On the top floor of the Fuyuki Hotel, Kayneth arranged the final component of his magic workshop and connected the leylines across the entire structure. At last, he clapped his hands. A smile appeared on his face, and with a snap of his fingers, several mercury familiars floated into the air and moved toward the rooftop.
Since he was staying on the top floor, how could he neglect the possibility of enemies approaching from above? Especially after Aslan had warned him that this Holy Grail War would be far more brutal and unforgiving than he had imagined. Kayneth would not overlook any area. Numerous familiars, resembling floating eyes, were constantly observing the surroundings beneath the hotel.
Balin leaned against the wall, watching Kayneth as he installed layer upon layer of magical defenses. With a look of disbelief, he raised an eyebrow. "No way, Master. You're really going to deck the place out like this? At this rate, you might as well buy a plot of land and build an underground fortress."
Kayneth rubbed his temples. "If someone had reminded me sooner, I probably would have. After all, I don't just represent myself—I also represent those who support me. So, I have to survive this Holy Grail War. No matter what."
His tone was grave. He meant every word. Kayneth had summoned his Servant early and arrived in this small seaside town in the Far East well ahead of schedule—just to transform his lodgings into a flawless magic workshop.
"But after all this work," he added, "we've gained something. At the very least, we can take a day or two to rest before the Holy Grail War officially begins. Let's use the time to invite our allies for a visit."
A small smile returned to Kayneth's face. He pulled a bottle of red wine from the cabinet, poured himself a glass, and held it up. Through the ruby liquid, his irises gleamed with a blood-red hue. Kayneth had adjusted his mindset. In those crimson eyes now shimmered a fierce desire to fight—and an unmistakable killing intent.
Balin gave a lazy grin, arms crossed. "Don't worry, Master. You've drawn a good card. We'll definitely make it to the end."
Setting his wine glass aside, Kayneth picked up the phone, dialed Aslan's number, and informed him that he had settled in—and wanted to extend an invitation for a visit.
Naturally, Aslan agreed. But he didn't plan to bring anyone with him just yet. He even slipped on gloves to conceal his identity as a participant in the Holy Grail War.
At the same time, Aslan found himself a little curious: what kind of expression would Balin make when he saw him?
It had been more than 1,500 years since their parting. His temperament had changed. The dragon blood in his body had awakened after they were separated. Because of this, the magical aura Aslan now radiated was different from the one Balin would remember.
Aslan had already prepared himself. No matter what Balin asked, no matter how he probed, Aslan would never admit to being the same man from 1,500 years ago.
Smirking mischievously, Aslan hailed a taxi and headed straight for the hotel.
It wasn't a long ride. In no time, he had arrived at the hotel's base. He activated a touch of his magical energy and took the elevator to the top floor.
Fortunately, Kayneth had already added Aslan's credentials to the magic workshop's guest list, so the elevator didn't jam or go haywire as it approached the upper levels.
Otherwise, Aslan might have enjoyed a brief lesson in terminal velocity. Not that it would have harmed him—he was more than strong enough to survive such a fall.
Kayneth sensed Aslan's presence the moment he stepped into the elevator. It was hard not to—the entire elevator was enchanted with detection spells. Smiling to himself, Kayneth stood up, took out a few bottles of juice from the sideboard (he remembered Aslan didn't like alcohol), and began setting the drinks out.
"Lancer, let's raise our glasses to welcome our ally. Trust me—you two will get along."
Ding!
As the elevator reached the top, Kayneth opened the door and greeted him. "Student Aslan, you're finally here. I've been waiting. We'll definitely win this Holy Grail War."
Balin stood in the room, swirling the wine in his glass. The name he'd just heard was unsettlingly familiar. No way. It couldn't be. Aslan? Could it really be that Aslan? Surely not. Humans didn't live that long… right?
No. Stay calm. The name Aslan wasn't that rare. That had to be it.
Sure, maybe Balin wasn't all that famous himself. But his Aslan? That man would've become a legend. Of course parents would name their children after him, hoping they might inherit a trace of the hero's greatness.
"So the Servant you summoned is the Knight Balin, huh? I guess I didn't give you the wrong relic after all."
A second voice rang out—one that wasn't Kayneth's.
It was so familiar that it hit Balin like a jolt. And yet… something was off. It was deeper. More composed. Slightly roughened with time. Which made sense—Aslan had lived through fifteen centuries. His voice and demeanor had both changed from the young man Balin had once known.
Balin's grip tightened on the wine glass. The voice stirred old memories, but the subtle differences clouded his certainty. His body froze for a moment.
The voices grew louder. Closer. Finally, that somewhat-familiar tone passed through the doorway—followed by golden hair and light blue eyes.
"Aslan?! You're not dead yet?!"
"It's true that I'm Aslan," the young man replied, "but I don't know you."
Aslan looked at his old friend and suppressed the surge of emotion rising in his chest. Shrugging, he turned to Kayneth and said, "Your Servant's pretty rude. What's with the 'not dead yet'? I'm only eighteen. I even gave you the holy relic passed down from my ancestors."
-End Chapter-
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