As someone who once wrote The Dark Swordsman, a large-scale fantasy novel set in another world during his middle school years—a novel that even fascinated a certain "old bug"—Kariya was clearly not the kind of student who only knew how to study. After all, this is the Far East, steeped in a rich two-dimensional culture. Having abandoned the path of magecraft, Kariya naturally became obsessed with comics, novels, and games.
After being mocked by Tokiomi, Kariya threw himself into collecting and purchasing models of various weapons and equipment.
Aslan believed that if the Fourth Holy Grail War had taken place 15 years later, the Berserker might have even pulled Frostmourne out of that box.
Now, wielding a massive axe in one hand, Berserker pulled out several other weapons with the other—boomerangs. Corroded by black and red energy, the boomerangs took on a demonic appearance, as if soaked in blood. He hurled them, and they struck the streetlamp where Gilgamesh was standing.
In the next moment, the streetlamp was cleanly severed. After flickering a few times, it went out entirely. The metal pole snapped into several pieces. Gilgamesh, losing his foothold, began to fall—but he was quick, managing to leap onto a nearby container just in time.
"Mad dog!! How dare you even dream of standing on the same level as me, you bastard—!!"
His words seethed with rage, but before he could finish, a chain tethered to an anchor came flying toward him. Gilgamesh twisted his body to avoid it, and the anchor embedded itself into the container. A black shadow followed rapidly, rushing straight at him.
The giant axe in Berserker's hand came down from above. Gilgamesh had no choice but to suppress his anger. Golden ripples materialized around him as several swords, glowing with a radiant light, shot toward Berserker. Truthfully, it hurt a little to use his collection on a mangy dog like this.
Even though his treasury was vast, Gilgamesh believed not everyone deserved to lay eyes on its contents. And this Berserker—this mutt with rabies who dared lump him in with commoners—was certainly unworthy of his treasures!
Fueled by fury, Gilgamesh sought to end the battle quickly. The weapons he summoned were of higher quality—nothing common. When they clashed with Berserker's axe, the sinister weapon shattered into pieces like the streetlamp before it.
But it didn't matter.
There were more weapons in Berserker's box.
The shattered axe had bought him enough time to advance on Gilgamesh. Once more, golden ripples appeared around Gilgamesh, and new weapons emerged, aimed at Berserker. Just then, the iron chain in Berserker's other hand whipped around, coiling tightly around the new weapons and locking them in place.
And then—Berserker pulled out a weapon no one expected.
No one knew if it was a joke or a mistake. By all logic, this item shouldn't have been in a weapon box, even if—technically—it was a weapon.
Berserker was holding a fly swatter.
He raised it, then swatted it toward Gilgamesh. Perhaps the sheer absurdity of the weapon stunned him, but even Gilgamesh failed to react in time.
Bang!!
As the sound echoed across the battlefield, everyone froze—actions halted, thoughts suspended. Tōsaka Tokiomi's golden Servant had been struck. Though he managed to raise a shield in front of his face, the atmosphere turned oppressively tense.
He'd even flinched!
Unforgivable!
Berserker stared at the fly swatter in his hand, as if confused about why something so harmless had made its way into his arsenal. After a moment of blank puzzlement, he tossed it aside and reached back into the box.
The damage may have been minimal, but the insult was staggering. In the very next second, everyone could feel the surge of Gilgamesh's fury. Magic power and regal pressure mingled and radiated from him like a furnace, intensifying the gravity of the entire port.
Back at the Tōsaka residence, Tokiomi swallowed hard. Just thinking about what had happened on the battlefield made his blood run cold. For a moment, he considered recalling the King from the front lines—but abandoned the idea. He figured it would be safer to let the king vent his anger a little. If he issued an order now, even with a Command Seal, he might be flayed alive.
Tokiomi nearly sprang out of his seat in the basement, clutching his face in horror, mentally peeling a layer of skin off himself. Meanwhile, Kariya, watching from the shadows, clenched his fists and pumped himself up.
Perfect.
Even though Berserker's antics were exhausting—and sometimes physically painful—watching that bastard Servant get humiliated filled him with satisfaction. His whole body even felt a bit lighter.
The four Servants on the battlefield exchanged glances. This time, even the King of Conquerors had nothing more to say. They nodded to one another, then began to slowly walk toward the edge of the battlefield, silently. Even the King of Conquerors couldn't help but wipe away imaginary sweat.
How had things gone so far off track?
On the other side of town, Aslan sipped the last of his warm coffee before slipping into his windbreaker. He looked at Melusine, who peeked her head out of his backpack. Smiling, he gently patted her head.
"I'm not bringing you this time," he said. "Where I'm going next… it's a bit inhumane. You'd have nightmares."
He checked his map and set his sights on the old district—not far from the hotel he was staying in. On the very first day of the Holy Grail War, nearly all the Heroic Spirits had converged there.
No one could have expected that.
And that gave him a perfect opportunity, didn't it?
If he wanted to achieve his goal more easily, he'd have to wait for Lancelot to appear—then face him directly. Though he had other methods to deal with Lancelot, a direct confrontation might be unavoidable.
-End Chapter-
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