"How do you plan on finding it?"
Xia Mi didn't answer right away. Her gaze lowered slightly as she thought for a moment. Then her eyes shifted twice, and she glanced at the Greater Grail nearby, currently held firmly in place by Norton's latest version of the alchemy array.
She extended a finger and touched the mercury curtain, sending a short message in Dragon Script through their blood pact:
"The first time that thing made a move, it found Rider by following the ley lines. I don't know why it's targeting Servants, but if it did it once, it'll do it again. Next time a Servant is summoned, it won't ignore it."
When Norton received the message, his brows rose slightly before he understood—Xia Mi was worried about an information leak. In his view, the concern was unnecessary—the Greater Grail's seal wasn't so flawed as to allow even physical sound waves to pass through.
After thinking for a moment, he sent back: "I see. You want to use bait to draw it out… But Servants aren't ordinary bait. If it eats them, that's a real problem."
Xia Mi bit her lip. "Then make it simple—give it something big enough that it can't swallow or bite through!"
"That's quite the demand. There aren't many Heroic Spirits that meet that condition."
"Of course I know that. But that's not an issue! The Masters still have free slots. Just pick one lucky Master and dump this 'glorious mission' on them!"
———
Fengel was clad in a skin-tight multifunctional combat suit. His burly frame and muscles were wrapped so tightly in the special fabric and materials that it felt like every inch of his skin was being suffocated. An uncomfortable, constricting sensation roamed over his body—like being stuffed into a tin can far too small.
This suit, supposedly custom-made by Cassell Academy's armory for the Holy Grail War, came with high-tech night operations gear, a modular load system for carrying gear pouches, built-in wiring, a comm unit, and sensors directly linked to Norma, the academy's super AI. On top of that, it had multi-functional tactical pockets…
Damn it—he looked and felt less like a soldier and more like a walking, overstuffed warehouse.
Fengel cursed inwardly. And knowing the armory's eccentric habits, this thing probably had some hidden self-destruct function built in too.
He glanced to the side and saw Principal Ange still in his usual immaculate suit and tie, polished shoes gleaming, his posture and aura that of a refined gentleman casually heading to an evening engagement.
By contrast, Fengel, in his "battlefield chic" getup, looked like some half-baked marine grunt drafted at the last minute to haul cargo—utterly undignified.
He felt cheated. This didn't look like he was being sent to a serious Holy Grail War—it looked like he'd been lined up for a "glorious sacrifice." And to think he'd once been a top A-rank student who had contributed so much to the academy… How had it come to this?
Was this all part of some long-laid plan? Did the board of directors finally find out about the "little stunts" he'd pulled back in junior and senior year?
Oh no… if that were the case, he was in trouble! He regretted it all now.
He shouldn't have ticked off the cafeteria delivery guy just to scam a nightly plate of free braised pork knuckle, mashed potatoes, and sauerkraut. He also shouldn't have led the charge as a paparazzi spy, taking photos that, while netting him big payouts from the vice principal and a group of guys, managed to offend every single female student at Cassell Academy…
"Fengel, Fengel!"
Ange's voice snapped him back. "We're here."
Ange gave him a peculiar look—Fengel's eyes were vacant, and a line of drool had slipped from the corner of his mouth onto the pitch-black combat suit, rolling off the waterproof material like a bead of rain.
Shaking off his daydream, Fengel looked out the car window at the neon-lit nightscape. They were in Tokyo now, and it seemed so lively and peaceful you'd never think a Holy Grail War was underway.
If anything, that only made him more suspicious.
"Principal, didn't you say we were here for the Holy Grail War? This doesn't look like it."
"This isn't the battlefield yet. Before we start, I need to meet an old friend here in Japan. Luckily, he's recently started using a cellphone—otherwise, I couldn't have found him online."
Ange switched on the Maserati's radio. The Tokyo station host's voice rang out:
"Good evening, Tokyo! Last night in Shinjuku, yet another tragic 'accident' occurred! A nightclub became the scene of a violent clash between two yakuza factions. Both sides used illegal firearms!
"And wouldn't you know it—the street where it happened still had an unrepaired natural gas line. Perhaps one bullet was a bit too passionate—boom! The nightclub's luxury building was reduced to rubble. On the bright side, Shinjuku's night view gained another beautiful firework!"
What the hell… Fengel shivered. This place played rougher than Cassell's 'Free Day' mock battles. Calling a building explosion "fireworks"? Maybe Tokyo wasn't so peaceful after all.
Ange pulled out his phone, confirming his friend's location through Norma, then glanced at Fengel. "The Command Seal on your hand is still there, right?"
"It's there, but the artistic style is awful. The Holy Grail War organizers should really take a masterclass in tattoo artistry."
Fengel stared at the vivid red mark. It had appeared when he arrived in Tokyo. At first, he'd thought it was paint and tried to wash it off—scraping until the skin was raw—only to find it stubbornly rooted in his flesh.
"You can critique their style after the mark becomes a Command Seal upon summoning your Servant," Ange replied. "Don't forget the Holy Relic in your pack. When I return, we'll head to the summoning site."
"When you return?"
"Norma's given me my friend's exact location—it's close. Stay in the car and don't move. I won't be long."
Ange vanished into the night market, leaving Fengel to sulk in the car, listening to grim jokes on the radio and counting sheep like an abandoned mutt.
But when the crowds thinned and the night turned quiet, Ange still hadn't returned.
"Huh?" Fengel frowned as the radio shifted from clear speech to static.
Then he noticed—the neon lights outside were gone. The streets looked like something out of Edo period Japan, with peeling wooden signs covered in faded, indecipherable script.
Something was wrong. Time to bail.
He sprang into the driver's seat, reaching for the ignition—only to remember Ange had taken the keys.
"Damn, damn, damn!"
Fengel reached under the steering column to hotwire the car, but the Maserati wasn't some old movie prop—it had an advanced ECU anti-theft system and multi-layered security. Without the key's chip, it wouldn't start.
Still, a top-tier hacker like Fengel wasn't about to give up. He dug through his combat suit for his gear, starting the hack—but it would take a little time, and…
"Uh… gentlemen, can you at least give me a moment to surrender?" he groaned, spotting countless shadowy figures closing in—easily over a hundred.
What the hell kind of cheat-level Nibelungen was this? Both man and car had been dragged into it.
Frantically rummaging through his gear, he found only one odd black case at the bottom. Opening it, he saw an ancient Hydra skin—an extremely valuable relic from Greece, said to be the remains of the Hydra slain by Heracles. It was meant to serve as the catalyst for summoning a Servant in the Holy Grail War.
Eyes lighting up, Fengel clutched it like a lifeline, muttering:
"Uh… mighty Heracles above, please help me escape alive! Wealth, luck, beautiful women—let it all come my way!"
In his panic, he completely forgot the proper summoning chant, babbling like someone lighting incense and praying to every god they could name.
And somehow… the shadowy figures hesitated, as if cowed by some unseen pressure. A vast aura poured down from above, like a mountain falling from the sky.
"What the—!?"
The car shook violently. Then the roof was pierced, and a towering, 2.5-meter figure with bulging muscles dropped down. Casually ripping the Maserati apart like cardboard, he stepped in front of a petrified Fengel.
"Archer, Heracles—answering the summons."
Noticing the shadows, Heracles calmly drew his bow and loosed.
Boom!
The arrows hit like heavy cluster bombs, obliterating the enemies and unleashing a howling shockwave for kilometers around.
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][[email protected]/euridome]
[Thank You For Your Support!]