Yuzuru's eyes scanned the post page of that high-profile "Holy Grail War" announcement by Huginn, the mysterious user. The ominous black-background site felt more like stumbling unprepared into a dark, moldy tomb than a modern message board.
The official name of HunterNet was "Hunter Marketplace." It hosted countless listings for tomb-raiding or ancient relic exploration missions, posted by clients from around the world. These clients offered bounties, and registered hunters would submit "bids" with résumés to be selected.
But Huginn's post wasn't like that. There was no bounty listed, no selection of hunters, nothing normal about it.
This person played by a different set of rules.
Huginn claimed the Holy Grail was an omnipotent wish-granting device—priceless, beyond any bounty the Hunter Marketplace could offer.
Only those chosen by the Grail itself could participate in the war. The Grail would grant a "Holy Mark" upon the back of the chosen's hand, proof of their right to enter. These individuals would become "Masters."
As for how one gets chosen, Huginn cryptically stated that anyone with a burning desire and enough longing for the Grail might be selected.
The whole "sincerity of heart brings miracles" spiel was strangely effective. Hunters who had seen their fair share of occult phenomena were eating it up.
The deeper Yuzuru read, the more his brow furrowed. Huginn had spun a full mythos around the Grail, painting it as a mystical "symbol of miracles," a "relic of Christ's mercy." It was absurd, yet disturbingly convincing—because countless ancient texts actually did reference the Holy Grail.
Naturally, self-proclaimed occult experts came out of the woodwork, aggressively backing the post's authenticity and fighting off skeptics like rabid zealots:
"You doubt it? Why not go see for yourself? Or are you just salty you can't even afford a single relic?"
"You dare question why the Holy Grail would appear in Japan? Fool! The Lord's radiance shines upon all lands! Even Japan bears Christian roots!"
"Keep yapping nonsense, and once I summon my Servant, I'll trace your IP and have them decapitate you through the router!"
Yuzuru was stunned by the ignorance—and frustrated even more because he knew the truth. The "Holy Grail" was just a codeword for the White King's bloodline.
But… Huginn's footage of the Servant battles was exceptionally high quality. Even the most elite factions of the Orochi Eight Families had never recorded such clear, continuous footage of Spirit Summon battles.
If Huginn wasn't tied to the Holy Grail War's backers, Yuzuru wouldn't believe it for a second.
So this was really happening?
He hadn't cared much for bounty hunters before. Most were low-tier mixed-bloods with only shallow knowledge of dragonkind—rogue opportunists without discipline.
And besides, Japan barely had any hunter activity, nor relics to speak of. The only major site was the underwater ancestral ruins of Takamagahara.
All of that was thanks to their "god"—the White King. His bloodline had cursed many Japanese mixed-bloods into horrific "oni," which in turn scared off other dragons from the island entirely. As a result, almost no dragon relics remained here.
The last time Yuzuru paid attention to "hunters" was only because it came up in Shirou's résumé.
Wait—didn't Shirou mention the Holy Grail War before…?
—
Wind chimes tinkled gently in Shirou's home, swaying with the summer breeze heavy with moisture.
Eriri was crouched just outside the living room hallway, like a curious little kitten peeking around the corner.
Inside, Shirou sat on the couch. On the TV played the manglobe anime "Samurai Champloo." He glanced sideways, noticing Eriri's attempt at eavesdropping—along with a flash of red hair by the window. He sighed.
It wasn't that he banned Eriri from watching anime. But since guests were over, and to avoid any chance of her identity leaking to her family, she had agreed to stay hidden.
Of course, being the child she was, Eriri had no intention of actually leaving. She just sat nearby, imagining the scenes from the audio like a makeshift theater.
"You sure have a youthful spirit, Shirou-dono. Big fan of anime?"
The guest, Su Enxi, pointed at the screen curiously. She didn't even react to the red blur outside—assuming it was just Nono.
On screen, the trio of Mugen, Jin, and Fuu wandered through Edo-era Japan on their journey to find the "sunflower-scented samurai," backed by funky Hip-Hop beats.
In the corner was the unmistakable logo of TV Tokyo—the station infamous for always airing anime, no matter what. Major breaking news? Earthquake? Political scandal? Doesn't matter. TV Tokyo would air their anime like the world was perfectly peaceful.
"Don't start with the 'only kids watch anime' crap. Samurai Champloo isn't even aimed at children."
Su Enxi leaned back dramatically. "Didn't expect the mighty Shirou-dono to be an anime otaku!"
"Hah? Don't act like a normie in my house. Aren't you the full-package otaku? ACGN master and everything?"
"…I have no idea what you're talking about. Hahaha…"
Su Enxi forced a smile and sipped her tea, trying to keep up her elite businesswoman image.
In her mind, being outside meant playing the role. She had to maintain her "high-class executive" persona. Maybe go a little crazy now and then—but still maintain her glamorous Black Gold Swan aura. Not some greasy NEET!
As long as it was a verbal sparring match, she figured she'd have the upper hand. She just had to dodge, feign ignorance, and never engage with any nerdy topics.
"I heard from Mai," Shirou cut in. "She said she learned some classic otaku lines from you."
That one sentence ended the match.
Su Enxi's expression shattered. Her carefully maintained persona fell to pieces. With a thud, she dropped her forehead onto the table like a melon smashing open.
"I surrender. What do you want to ask?"
"You three… plan to join the Holy Grail War?"
"Yep. Don't ask why. Boss's orders. We're even told to form an unconditional alliance with you. So you can start interrogating your new 'teammate' now."
"All three of you joining? Got a relic ready?"
Su Enxi sat up. "The boss picked Sanwu for it. Said she's the most suitable, and already matched with a relic."
"What do you mean…?"
"Shirou-dono, you probably don't know her full name—Zero Razumovskaya Romanova."
"…Romanova? As in the Russian Imperial family?"
Shirou's heart skipped. He remembered a certain FGO 2.0 character—Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova, the "Princess" from the Lostbelt arc.
Su Enxi explained, "Yes. Zero descends from Empress Elizabeth of the Romanov dynasty. Though records say she never married, there's speculation she secretly wed her favorite Razumovsky."
"Catherine the Great, after seizing power, feared this rumor. If Elizabeth had a child, it'd threaten Catherine's claim. So she ordered Razumovsky to burn the marriage document."
"He did. Catherine spared him. He became Zero's ancestor."
Su Enxi drained her tea like a dying camel. "Oh, and by the way, Zero currently lives in a palace in Russia—Elizabeth's palace, no less. Officially recognized as a Romanov descendant, she's buying back relics tied to her lineage. So, no worries about summoning requirements."
Shirou recalled Zero's cold expression, her icy royal aura.
A true princess, huh… And if he was being honest, her personality and air were very similar to Anastasia.
Their compatibility might be absurdly high…
(End of Chapter)
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