The skirmish in the park hadn't caused much commotion. Even so, Servant Aslan carefully repaired the damaged ground with his own methods. Compared to the city's ordinary roads, the ones he reinforced might well withstand bomb blasts without cracking. One could only wonder what would happen to this park if it were ever demolished.
Not that Aslan cared in the slightest.
After bidding farewell to Akuta Hinako and Merlin, Irisviel and her Servant made their way to the outskirts of the city. Their next goal was to approach another Heroic Spirit—the King of Conquerors, Iskandar. Though he seemed brash and carefree, his wit and charisma had earned the loyalty of countless heroes. How could such a man truly be "careless"?
After all, his tutor was none other than Aristotle himself.
When Irisviel arrived at his doorstep, Waver was utterly shocked. Though he'd been attempting to keep a low profile in the city, his "hiding" was laughably simple. In truth, in the Holy Grail War, no one could stay hidden for long. Sooner or later, combat was inevitable—because in the end, only one could claim victory.
Thus, concealment was less about survival and more about delaying the inevitable.
Magicians, with their arrogance, were usually quick to answer provocation directly. Yet Waver, still young and a product of the new generation, lacked that kind of pride—and that was a blessing. After all, one could only continue researching if one was alive. Perhaps, fifty years from now, if another Grail War were held, all the Masters would simply pilot drones into battle.
Traditional magi sneered at such methods now. But in half a century? It would be those same "modern" magi laughing at the antiques, claiming they were stuck in the past.
Picture it: an old-style mage flaring his circuits, ready to duel—only to face a squad of autonomous combat robots equipped with thermal weaponry. The sheer embarrassment of the scene was almost poetic.
And if the Grail War somehow lasted a hundred years, Masters might all be piloting Gundams, their battles shifting to space. Hide from satellites, fight in the void, and let the Church worry about cleaning up the debris.
Why stop there?
The Grail could simply drag all Masters and Servants into a fully immersive VR arena. Death in the game, death in reality—Sword Art Online–style. A bloodless stage for all the destruction imaginable.
Or better yet, make it a racing tournament. Forget city blocks—have Servants race across entire islands, or even the breadth of Japan. Sell off the hosting rights to the highest bidder.
And of course, broadcast the whole thing live. Can you imagine the ratings? The combination of ancient heroes and modern masters would make for instant spectacle.
But for now, Waver stood at his door, reluctant yet resigned. He couldn't risk endangering the elderly couple who housed him, no matter how simply he'd deceived them. He wouldn't allow them to be dragged into this. Irisviel, however, understood the boy's instincts well. She also knew that if Kiritsugu himself had come, the old couple truly might have ended up as hostages.
Irisviel knew her husband's methods intimately—rough when necessary, and all for the sake of peace.
The King of Conquerors gave his young Master a hearty pat on the back. Dawn was breaking, the third morning of the Grail War. No great battles loomed just yet. As for assassinations—well, if he couldn't even protect his Master from a sneak attack at such close range, then what kind of "King of Conquerors" would he be?
Still, boys needed trials to grow. Waver had to learn courage himself. Perhaps someday, when threatened, the boy would slam a table and declare: "I was raised under the shadow of Heroic Spirits! You don't scare me in the slightest!"
That moment, the King thought, would be legendary.
"Alright then," Iskandar said at last, seated outside a breakfast shop with food in hand. "Saber and her Master—what do you want from us?"
Irisviel took the initiative, accepting the hot breakfast he offered with a polite "thank you" before explaining their request for an alliance.
The King of Conquerors stroked his chin, eyes glinting. "If your target is the golden king, you already know a sneak attack won't work. That leaves us with only one option: an open battle."
Irisviel paused, then nodded. He was right. Against a king like that, subterfuge was meaningless.
Iskandar grinned when he saw her agreement. "Good! Then before we fight, let's have a banquet. After all, we've gathered here in this Holy Grail War. Wouldn't it be a waste if we didn't share drink, stories, and laughter first? Heroes from different ages—shouldn't we talk before we try to kill one another?"
Irisviel blinked, slow to grasp what he was suggesting.
The King of Conquerors clapped her on the shoulder, smiling broadly. "Don't worry, leave it to me. Tonight, I'll head straight to the golden one's domain. Tōsaka's residence, isn't it? I've already made my inquiries."
-End Chapter-
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