"Oh, delicious!!"
Rider took a sip of the wine and immediately widened his eyes in delight. Even Saber found her curiosity stirred. This was no longer a contest of pride, but a battle of wine.
As the wine slid down her throat, Saber felt a powerful surge rush to her head. It was indeed a drink unlike anything she had ever tasted—potent yet pure, rich yet refreshing. Its intense aroma filled her nose, leaving her with a heady, almost floating sensation.
"This is amazing… there's no way this was brewed by mortals. This must be the drink of the gods."
Seeing Rider's unreserved praise, Archer offered a satisfied smile. At some point, he had sat down as well, swirling the wine in his glass contentedly.
"Of course. Whether it's wine or weapons, my treasury only holds the finest. That's the taste of a king."
"What nonsense, Archer."
Saber snapped. The peaceful atmosphere began to crack under growing tension.
"I'm sick of hearing you boast about your wine stash. You sound less like a king and more like a clown."
Archer sneered at her fiery glare.
"Absurd. Anyone who doesn't understand wine has no right to call themselves king."
"Oh, come on, you two are being ridiculous."
Rider gave a wry smile and raised his hand to stop Saber from saying more, then lifted his cup toward Flan.
"Let's have a toast—to our little hero. In the name of those innocent lives lost, allow me to thank you."
Like Saber, Rider had previously scouted Caster's lair in the sewers with his Master. He, too, was deeply disturbed by Caster's deeds and had vowed to his Master that he would ensure the vile Servant was eliminated.
What he hadn't expected was that someone else would beat him to it and deal with Caster so quickly.
"It was just a small effort. Besides, I did it to earn an extra Command Seal for my Master."
"Tch, Command Seals? Are those things really worth winning?"
Hearing Flan mention the Command Seals, Archer scoffed in disdain. He was likely reminded of how Tokiomi Tohsaka had recently used one to force him to retreat.
"Ah, for Masters and Servants who get along well, Command Seals are great tools for enhancing strength. For those who don't… they're more like chains of convenience."
A mocking smile curled on Flan's lips. Archer's face immediately twisted in rage, and he nearly dropped his wine glass.
"You insolent wretch! Are you begging for death?!"
Just as the banquet threatened to spiral into conflict again, Rider stepped in with a helpless expression to mediate.
"Come on, can't we just enjoy a peaceful night of drinking? Archer, aren't you a king? Surely you wouldn't lose your temper over a little girl's teasing."
"Tch… Rider, a king's generosity is for his loyal subjects—not for just any monster or fiend to enjoy. For those insolent enough to defy the king's authority, death is the only fitting punishment."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. But just for tonight—can't you give us both some face? If you kill the host of the banquet, then the whole thing falls apart, doesn't it?"
"…Fine. I'll let it go—for your sake."
Archer clicked his tongue but begrudgingly restrained himself.
Flan looked like she wanted to say something more, but Rider gave her a pleading glance, silently asking her to let it go.
If she pressed further, even Rider might not be able to stop the fight from breaking out. The banquet would instantly become a battlefield—and that wasn't the outcome Rider wanted.
In truth, Flan didn't want that either. After all, this was their stronghold. If conflict broke out here, it was the Einzbern side who would suffer the most.
Rider took another drink, then suddenly said:
"I heard only those deemed worthy can obtain the Holy Grail."
The solemn tone in his voice quieted the garden. Hearing such seriousness from Rider felt almost… off.
"And the ritual to determine that worthiness is this war in Fuyuki. But if one is just observing, there's no need to shed blood. As Heroic Spirits, if we can recognize each other's strength… well, I don't need to say more, do I?"
"So, you want to compete with me to see who's stronger, Rider?"
"Exactly. A true contest in the name of kingship. Though at this point, maybe it shouldn't be called a Holy Grail War anymore—maybe a Holy Grail Debate fits better. In the end, between the King of Knights, the King of Conquerors, and the King of Heroes, who is most worthy of the Grail? That's the kind of question best answered over wine."
"Oh? Interesting. A king's debate, is it? Then I suppose those unrelated should take their leave."
As Rider said this, Archer's crimson eyes once again turned toward Flan.
"She may not be a king, but this young lady is a powerful enough hero to earn respect. I'd say she's qualified to take part in this debate as well. What do you think, Saber?"
Rider smiled and turned to Saber, who nodded in agreement.
Archer frowned slightly, about to speak—but Flan cut in first.
"I'm afraid I'll have to disagree. In a certain sense, I am a king."
Her declaration surprised all three Servants, and they turned their gazes to her, clearly expecting an explanation.
"It's just that my kingship is a bit different from yours. I am the descendant of the Lord of Darkness—of Dracula, the Demon King. My family, the Scarlet line, is the sovereign of the night… the rulers of all vampirekind."
Flan raised her head proudly. The small girl spoke with overwhelming pride, and the aura she exuded—one that looked down upon all others—drew quiet admiration from the three Heroic Spirits.
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