[Your voice echoed through the depths of Camelot's palace.]
[And before you, seven figures appeared.]
They were still the same dark, deep silhouettes as before. Undeniably, they were the heroic spirits summoned by Alaya — the Guardians bound to human Order.
Seven Rider "Servants" under the command of Alaya —
but this time the figures were different.
The silhouettes were clearer. As Lucan's words fell, the seven shapes seemed to step out from shadow and truly take their place within the world: their feet touched down, and the blackness that clung to them flowed away like liquid, revealing more substantial forms.
"Oh my… what a messy 'world'."
One figure spoke first. Tall, clad in tight scarlet clothing that outlined every muscle, pale hair standing on end, a gaunt, dark long face — his casual stance nevertheless radiated a cold, lethal intent. "To command us so casually — is that really wise?"
A gaunt, hunched form chuckled low: "…Command is destiny!" His dark robe hid a monstrous right arm that bulged and writhed as if alive, grotesquely eye-catching.
A count in medieval black, blue flames of vengeance silently burning around him, manifested with golden eyes scanning the hall; an icy curl lifted one corner of his mouth: "Hmph… the end of 'waiting' is still this filthy task?"
A figure in a tattered cloak, gripping a broken knightly blade, appeared next. Tired and self-mocking, he muttered: "…Another low-grade assignment, is it?"
A white-haired, red-eyed youth in simple monastic robes appeared, a compassionate but resolute smile on his face: "To 'save'… even if this self become a demon, so be it."
"Hoh? Facing a world-changing Great Hero — that's not bad at all!" A man in tight battle garb, gripping a crimson spear, showed an eager, hound-like grin.
A dark, hulking silhouette in hide trousers, muscles bared, hefted a vast axe and roared; his overwhelming, berserk mana seemed inhuman.
Seven disparate figures stood before you. They took position within the palace and hovered in Lucan's sight before the throne. In that instant, in the brief exchange of lines in their varied tongues, each looked up at him.
Is this the "target" this time? This is—
"Welcome, Guardians of Human Order."
Lucan's face wore a seemingly sincere smile, as if greeting not challengers summoned by Alaya to revise history, but friendly guests. He bowed his head to them, and while the Guardians stood stunned, he began to name them, one by one:
"An anonymous modern hero active in the twenty-first century — Emiya."
The white-haired man's expression stiffened; his previously untroubled face turned grave.
"Leader of an assassination cabal that roams the Middle East — Hassan of the Cursed Arm."
The hunched figure's skeletal mask rasped, "This mandate… is destiny."
"The 'King of the Cave,' Edmond Dantès — or perhaps I should call you the Count of Monte Cristo."
The black-clad count's golden eyes widened slightly.
"A classical-age king and adventurer, Mandricardo."
The man with a broken sword remained disdainful.
"The revolutionary 'sage' of the Far East, Amakusa Shirō Tokisada."
The Shinto-clad youth's face turned thoughtful.
"The light-born son of Celtic myth, Cú Chulainn."
The spear-wielding man clicked his tongue in appreciation.
"And finally…" Lucan glanced to the last colossal, frenzied form in the group, "the great hero of Greek myth — a side of Heracles consumed by madness."
He spoke each name and title aloud with perfect clarity. The Guardians — those who had contracted with Alaya — naturally carried era-relevant memories, so all of them already held, in an instant, information about Lucan from this life. After a moment of surprised deduction they made assumptions.
"Is he a top-tier mage-warrior with True-Name-seeing?"
The man called Emiya clicked his tongue: "This mission will be nasty."
Hassan remained silent
"A war to bury glory —" the Count's gaze sharpened dangerously.
Each of the others voiced lines; all began to treat Lucan as a wielder of far-seeing power — one who could perceive True Names.
Lucan said nothing to correct them.
[You do not actually possess True-Name sight.]
[It was simply that the seven Guardians before you were ones you already knew — you recognized Emiya as the modern-era hero, the popular protagonist of some "Moon World" tale's future incarnation.]
[The Count of Monte Cristo, Cú Chulainn the Light Child, Heracles — those who are famous across Europe and the world — needed no introduction. Amakusa Shirō Tokisada is known as a sage in the Far East. Even Mandricardo — though his renown might be smaller now — is a classical-era adventurer-king who once wore Hector's armor and bore a sword of saintly status, surviving countless trials and ultimately succumbing to a tragic despair.]
[You know them; even those whose impressions were faint became clear as your 272-god Thought Circuit spun.]
[They are worthy of contracting with Alaya.]
[These figures are not weak: individually they are near or have already reached God-domain-level specializations. Even if none alone could match you, together they are a different matter.]
[You also know that a berserk Heracles retains power beyond normal god-levels, reborn twelve times through his labors and resistant to prior causes of death. Mandricardo's armor from the hero Hektor can nullify much non-divine mystic force and impact. The Count holds church treasure and a dark flame that can burn both matter and spirit. Cú Chulainn wields rune-given universal marks and the fatal spear that ignores evasion. Emiya Shirō's Unlimited Blade Works can reproduce others' blades and techniques inside his internal boundary. Amakusa's circuit links to leylines for explosive instant mana beams. Hassan of the Cursed Arm's concept resurrection is a deadly, stealthy threat.]
[If they coordinate fully, they can pose a real threat to you.]
[Deploying Heracles as main force, Mandricardo as shield, Emiya as weapon, with Amakusa and Cú Chulainn flanking and Hassan striking from the dark — they could theoretically break through your True Aether barrier.]
[You have already run through their tactical possibilities in your mind, like reading probabilities. Though a theoretical probability is not practice, even the slightest chance is still a chance.]
[If Alaya had chosen seven far stronger servants, you might be driven into stalemate — which is not what the Counter Force wants. Alaya's choices are never random: it values 'affinities' as much as raw strength. Like the seven Crown Servants who guard human Order — not all of them are the absolute strongest; many are specialized counters.]
"This will be a battle that requires me to prepare."
Lucan, however, betrayed no panic. He had expected Alaya to treat him like a compacted 'Beast' and chosen seven Servants that each countered some aspect of him. But foreknowledge meant lack of surprise, and forethought meant he'd prepared.
"No need for more words — fight!" Emiya's gaze hardened; he stepped into position before the throne, every inch ready.
As the Guardian Servants descended, they were given era-related memories by Alaya. They knew the figure before them: a top-ranked Great Hero, a God-domain-level mage-warrior set to alter an age, to cause history to veer where the Counter Force would not permit. With the True Name seen and the true identity known, probing words were unnecessary — trial would be pointless.
"Is that so?" Lucan smiled again. "I suppose not."
At that moment Emiya, Dantès, Hassan, Cú Chulainn, Mandricardo, Heracles and Amakusa all sensed something: a fading of their own existential presence. They felt the power that had summoned them — Alaya's force — being diluted.
This was…
"Two years of Morgan le Fay as 'King.'"
Behind Lucan, the silver-haired queen's figure slowly manifested, as if from nothing. "The Fairy Knights, the two days clustered around Artoria Pendragon."
Shapes of fairies materialized around the throne. They were ephemeral, flickers from the past — projections, not truly present now — yet they had no rightful place in the "past." They should have been cut off and erased by Lucan's earlier rollback. And yet, as if thawed from a frozen state, they influenced Alaya's judgment anew.
Yes: though severed, they had never entirely vanished. Though time had been rewound, their existence remained in the minds of the few who remembered — preserved in the Faerie Realm as "fantasy" and waiting to be released.
They had been kept within the Fairy Domain's surface seastream. And Lucan had maintained them there, ready for this release — to be rejoined with the world's timeline.
"I think you should have sensed it too."
Lucan's footsteps carried him forward, a smile on his lips: "Mystery is awakening again in this British soil."
The Fairies — the mysteries of the Fairy Kingdom, Camelot — were like a seed buried deep in the earth that had long since rooted, and now after two years pushed through the soil. Once it sprouted, it would become a towering tree. Its existence now affected Alaya's instantaneous judgment, causing miscalculation: Alaya mistook now for then, and thus its summoned Guardians were spiritually thinned.
Thus, the Servants' strength waned.
The summoned Guardians perceived this and were struck with horror. They turned to the man who had enacted the ultimate grand magic and could not help but ask, stunned:
"How did you manage such a miracle?" Amakusa Shirō asked.
"If it were normal, of course it would be hard," Lucan answered without stinginess. "But if you supply the past with the present —"
"With the power of the 'continent,' sustain a 'nation,'" he said. "Then it becomes no problem."
Undoubtedly it was because Camelot's legions had conquered the continent.
He charged at an irresistible fate, enacted unparalleled grand magic, and prepared to forge the miracle called "Eternity."
Song of Eternity — Subotai