Let's move time forward just a little—yes, only a short distance. We'll skip ahead to the moment Kariya used the Command Seal.
A barrage of Gilgamesh's treasures erupted from the treasury, slamming into the ground with devastating force. The impact tore the earth apart, collapsing it into a massive crater. The cement and steel reinforcement shattered under the onslaught, sending clouds of dust and debris billowing into the air. Under such an attack, the Berserker's survival seemed all but impossible.
Yet Gilgamesh frowned. If he was not mistaken, Berserker had vanished without a trace before the blow had even landed. Ironic—after all that effort, the wretch had still slipped away. The anger he had only just managed to quell flared to life once more.
Gilgamesh began scanning the surroundings for those self-proclaimed kings. Until he vented this rage, peace of mind was impossible.
Just as Gilgamesh prepared to strike again, Tokiomi—safely ensconced in his basement—sent word through the Command Seals. Of course, these "instructions" were dressed up as suggestions, but in truth, they were orders. And the Command Seal ensured they could not be ignored.
To be honest, today's battle had exceeded even Tokiomi's expectations.
The King's Treasure had displayed far too much power. By now, they had surely become a thorn in the side of many. Fortunately, the king had not revealed all his cards. That restraint meant they still had room to maneuver, even if they were now marked.
Gilgamesh was not pleased with the order to withdraw, but he swallowed his irritation and reasoned it through. After exhausting some magical energy, it was wise to retreat—at least temporarily. This was war, after all. If he continued attacking other Servants…
It wasn't fear of being surrounded—he simply found the prospect headache-inducing.
Gilgamesh was not invincible. If he were, then in the original timeline's aerial battle against the sea monster, Lancelot would never have managed to shoot him down—or even wound him, as the records discreetly omit.
Two fists cannot beat four hands. Even if Gilgamesh excelled in one-on-one duels, at this stage, if Aslan joined the fray, Gilgamesh might struggle to counter Distant Utopia—should Aslan choose to unleash it. Meluseen's speed was another factor he could not easily contend with.
That was enough…
He was still furious—angry enough to lose sleep tonight—but for now, he would end it here.
Drawing a deep breath, Gilgamesh pushed down his dissatisfaction, rearranging his expression into its usual mask of arrogance.
"Hmph. Because I joined the fight, you all scurried off to hide. Should I call that cowardice—or wisdom?
Let's stop here for today. I've only just warmed up. The next time we meet, you'll kneel before me and beg to leave!"
With that, Gilgamesh dissolved into golden light and vanished without a trace.
Watching Gilgamesh depart, the King of Conquerors patted his trembling Master reassuringly, then arched an eyebrow in the direction the golden king had gone. "You're quite the face-saving monarch. Why not just admit you didn't want to take on that many opponents at once?"
Hidden in the shadows, Kayneth considered whether to have Balin strike now, eliminating an enemy Servant or Master. But the memory of the golden-armored man's presence made him reconsider. Best to wait until the Golden King had left the stage before launching any ambush.
Gilgamesh's overwhelming pressure was enough to make Kayneth set aside even his grudge over Waver stealing his holy relic. After all, the boy could never have taken it without outside help. There was no point in being too angry at such a naive student.
In Kayneth's eyes, his pupil—who would one day be known as Lord El-Melloi II—was still an innocent child. Had Waver ever wondered why it had been so easy to "receive" a delivery from his own teacher, a monarch of the Clock Tower?
This was a child raised in a honeypot, untouched by storms or schemes.
The thought stirred a faint sense of pity. Had Waver's summoning brought forth not the King of Conquerors but some intractable Heroic Spirit, the boy might have perished in the Holy Grail War, condemned by his enemies as the killer of his own Master.
A fate impossible to refute—his death would have been exploited just the same.
"Retreat, Lancer. And you, Mr. Waver—during this Holy Grail War, I'll be giving you additional instruction about the world of magi. You'll also be punished for stealing my holy relic. Be prepared. I will be charging for these lessons."
Shaking his head, Kayneth produced a fashion magazine from his coat. Ever since discovering the fashion industry, he had found it a reliable distraction whenever he was irritated. His copies were covered in his own neat annotations.
At moments like this, he began to understand why so many magi clung to hobbies that seemed utterly at odds with their image.
After Balin departed, Merlin smirked, only to spot Irisviel approaching—with a girl he knew all too well following behind her. Quickly, he raised his hand, and a swirl of petals surged up from beneath his feet, cloaking him entirely.
"It seems we won't be fighting today. My Master and I will take our leave."
Ironically, it was that very flourish—the showy bloom of petals—that allowed Kiritsugu to spot Akuta Hinako outside the port. And from there, the connection between Merlin and Akuta Hinako clicked into place in his mind.
-End Chapter-
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