The King of Conquerors felt even more pleased after hearing Gilgamesh's words. Why? Because this only confirmed what he suspected—there were surely greater treasures within that golden vault before him.
"Well, let's leave talk of battle for later. Since everyone basically revealed their identities on the first night, there's no harm in repeating our true names now, is there?"
The King of Conquerors took a long sip of wine, then set the empty glass down on the ground with deliberate force. A sharp, ringing crack echoed, commanding attention.
"I am the King of Conquerors—Iskandar. Of course, another name may be more familiar to you: Alexander the Great. The king surrounded by his people, the king who seeks to conquer the ends of the earth.
I desire victory in this Holy Grail War, to gain a new body, and to begin new conquests in this modern age. I died young, cut short by disease, and I am unwilling to accept such an end. Therefore, I will not give up on the Holy Grail!"
Everyone present could hear it clearly: for this king, conquest was his essence. To stop was either to be satisfied or to die. Asking him to surrender the Holy Grail would be no different from asking him to die.
For a moment, silence blanketed the gathering. Then Gilgamesh broke into a grin and laughed uproariously.
"Hahahaha! Fascinating—truly fascinating! I never thought such a king would appear in the future, one who never ceases, who only advances! A king who never stops conquering? And to think such a man would gain followers!"
Whether his words carried admiration or mockery was unclear. Iskandar only shrugged with a broad smile.
"Take it as praise if you like. I am a king served by many, followed by those who would one day be kings themselves."
Gilgamesh emptied his glass, his crimson eyes locking onto the Conqueror.
"I am the King of Heroes, the first king—the king who defied the gods. And as for the Holy Grail? All treasures of the world belong within my treasury. Since the Grail is a treasure, I am simply here to collect it.
But along the way, I found a mongrel calling himself king. However… since you too are recognized as a ruler by many across the ages, I shall acknowledge you, Conqueror King! And with that acknowledgment comes my decree: I will personally end your life. Take it as the highest honor I can grant!"
Iskandar gave no reply. He merely glanced at his nervous Master with a reassuring smile before turning back toward the others.
Balin raised his glass, took a sip, and let out a weary chuckle.
"I am no king—just a knight who enjoyed a few great adventures before meeting a tragic end. But I won't surrender the Holy Grail. It's my only chance to save those I love.
Don't speak to me of royal law, and don't tell me all treasures belong to one vault. I've committed my share of sins in life, and I've no objection to committing more if it means securing happiness for my loved ones."
He drained the cup, set it down, and a fierce light flickered in his weary eyes—like a starving wolf with nowhere to run.
Merlin swirled his own glass, smiling wryly as he spoke.
"Well, I suspect everyone's already guessed—I'm not King Arthur. I am Merlin, the great magician.
Truthfully, I've lingered here too long, and I thought I'd create a clone to roam the world a little. The Grail doesn't concern me. Even if you gave it to me, I'd probably use it as a vase. Ha… ha…"
His awkward laughter drew several incredulous looks. Compared to the others' grand ambitions, Merlin's reasoning was riddled with holes. It felt as though everyone else had come to claim destiny, while he alone was here to laze about.
Aslan, watching him, let out a small sigh of relief. With Merlin saying that, I don't look so bad by comparison. He even felt grateful for the magician's unintentional cover.
Scratching his head, Aslan forced a sheepish grin.
"Well, I've been sitting in this place far too long. They say it transcends time and space, but even so—I can't sit still forever. If I could gain the ability to freely travel across worlds through the Holy Grail, that'd be great. If not, that's fine too."
The King of Conquerors arched a brow, then sighed, almost wistfully.
"In this Grail War, perhaps only you two are truly carefree…"
Yet as he thought more carefully, it wasn't surprising. From the bits of knowledge he'd gathered, it seemed these two men had no lingering regrets to drive them. Unlike kings and knights who fought for ideals or loved ones, they were simply here to wander.
And when compared side by side, the truth was clear: people's burdens could never truly be weighed against one another.
Artoria, standing behind Irisviel, remained silent. She kept her eyes closed, withholding her presence. For her, this concealment was a strategy for victory. Her kingly path was to give everything for her people. Whether others called her cowardly or dishonorable did not matter—this was war, and tonight's banquet was nothing but an open conspiracy arranged by Iskandar.
Why should she not seize advantage where she could?
Her desire to secure her nation's future burned no less fiercely than the ambitions of the others. And Merlin—by keeping her identity secret—had already offered his silent allegiance. That much, she could trust.
Suddenly, a dagger coated in black paint whipped toward Irisviel. Aslan reacted instantly, deflecting it with his wine glass. In that moment, all the heroes present—save Gilgamesh—rose to their feet.
There was no mistaking it. The only one who would strike in such a manner was Assassin.
-End Chapter-
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