In the Tower of Avalon, Merlin—who had originally been enjoying himself—was now clutching his white hair with both hands, occasionally banging his head against the wall, a look of confusion and fear clouding his face. His usual elegance and gloating had completely vanished.
After one particularly emphatic headbang, Merlin spun around and hugged Fou, who was observing the scene with idle amusement. "What should I do, Cath Palug?! Aslan is threatening me—threatening me—to jump out and participate in the Holy Grail War!"
Merlin collapsed to the ground, covering his mouth and nose with his hands. A handkerchief had mysteriously appeared between his fingers. He looked like a pitiful girl from a tragic romance. He even shamelessly pulled out eye drops from his pocket and dripped them directly into his eyes, feigning tears.
The small white beast, who had just been hugged and discarded, wore an expression of unmistakable disgust. The fool before it was clearly a seasoned actor—and once the performance had begun, ignoring him was the wisest course of action. Otherwise, this seasoned dramatist would certainly rope it into the farce.
Merlin was not discouraged when he realized Fou wouldn't play along. Instead, he moved on to the next act.
"It's so hard. Really, it is!" he lamented, voice trembling with mock sincerity. "Didn't I send Aslan to the human world for the sake of world peace and stability? He's been cooped up at home for so long. A beautiful flower boy like me—so dazzling and conspicuous—would be recognized instantly if I stepped outside. It's not my fault!"
He covered his face with the handkerchief again, voice turning faintly dramatic. "Oh, why can't Aslan understand me? Would a flower boy as handsome as I am ever lie? Impossible! How could I entrust such an important task to him merely because I didn't want to leave the house?"
Fou rolled her eyes and curled her lips. Hadn't this shameless old fraud just exposed his true intentions?
Merlin gently dabbed the artificial tears from his face with the handkerchief, then stood up and patted the nonexistent dust from his robe. "Well, looks like I have no choice this time. If I don't go, I'm afraid the Supreme Masterpiece will crush me like a rag doll next time."
To avoid being seized by the head and slammed into the floor like a toy… or thrown into the sky only to be blasted half to death by a cannon... some effort was necessary.
"I just hope I don't run into any old acquaintances," Merlin muttered, frowning. Truthfully, he had a bad feeling about all of this. Something told him that if he stepped out for a stroll this time, things wouldn't go according to plan.
But regardless, he had clearly annoyed Aslan. After all, Aslan had lived in the Inner Sea of the Stars for over 1,500 years. Compared to Great Britain in the human world, the Inner Sea was Aslan's true home. And that meant one thing: after stirring up trouble, escape was impossible.
A monk may flee the temple, but the temple cannot flee the monk. Could Merlin carry the entire Tower of Avalon on his back? If he truly could, then when the white dragon came to extract his blood, why hadn't he just picked up the tower and smashed it in retaliation?
Just then, a voice rang out from the screen in front of him.
"Old bastard, get out of the magic circle before I finish chanting the summoning spell, or don't blame me for what happens next."
Far away in a castle of ice, a weathered man with cold, determined eyes slowly stood and walked toward the summoning circle of Mercury.
In a mansion in Fuyuki, Tōsaka Tokiomi gazed at the gem and snake skin laid before him. Pride gleamed in his eyes, and the curve of his mouth was tinged with refined confidence. He removed his gloves, revealing the Command Seals etched into his hand—his ticket to the Holy Grail War. Every preparation had been made. He even possessed a trump card.
This time, he would be the victor of the Holy Grail War!
Meanwhile, Kayneth had pulled off a minor trick with Sola, linking their magic circuits and enabling them to jointly provide mana to their Servant. With that done, he booked a plane ticket, ready to head east.
On the outskirts of Fuyuki, a bob-haired boy tossed aside a bloody rooster and reverently set a wooden box—containing a fragment of a red cloak—onto a stone bench.
He didn't know if what he was doing was right, but he couldn't give up. He had to prove that his theory was correct. He wasn't sure whether this came from a desire to validate himself or lingering resentment toward his teacher.
A young priest at the church stared blankly, his eyes cold and detached. Almost nothing in this world stirred his interest. Almost.
The one exception was perhaps authentic Mapo Tofu—its burning, numbing spice, the sight of others in tears from the heat—it was exhilarating.
"Ah… I'm summoning a Heroic Spirit now, aren't I? I should really calm down."
In a basement crawling with insects, Kariya averted his gaze from the withered old man beside him and focused on the already-carved summoning array. He took one last, steadying look at the bug-infested den.
He would save Sakura.
The memory of what had happened not long ago filled him with rage.
A month ago, the doors of the Tōsaka mansion had flung open. Flames scorched the ground as Kariya was thrown outside. Tōsaka Tokiomi stood tall, a ruby-encrusted scepter in hand, his expression cold and aloof. A flickering ember danced atop the gem.
"Kariya… At this point, a coward who fled from the path of the magus dares interfere with my decisions and my family?" Tokiomi's voice was calm, cruel. "Were it not for our former acquaintance—and my own noble upbringing—this flame would not have landed at your feet… but upon your body."
Tokiomi's words were sharp and pitiless.
Kariya clenched his fists, teeth grinding. That man always looked down on others, judging the world through his own narrow lens. He had no idea—none—what that old worm truly was!
The memory of Sakura, once a shy and gentle girl, now hollow and broken, ignited a fury that left Kariya trembling with helpless rage.
-End Chapter-
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