"I'll try contacting the Church then. I hope you can keep monitoring what's happening out there," I said casually, though my eyes remained sharp as they glanced at the window, faintly reflecting the moonlight.
"I understand, Master," Medusa replied. Her voice was soft yet steady, as if already accustomed to orders that carried weight.
I stepped closer and produced a replica of Avalon, shimmering faintly as though it were breathing with holy light. "Before you go, take this. It will grant you additional protection."
Medusa lowered her head slightly, her violet hair swaying gently. "Thank you, Master." She gladly accepted the gift. The Avalon immediately merged into her body, leaving behind a brief trace of light before vanishing completely. With a light step, Medusa turned and disappeared into the night's shadows, like a spirit fading into darkness.
I exhaled slowly, then headed toward the workshop. The room carried the scent of metal and old parchment, with a large wooden desk cluttered with scribbles, magic circles, and scattered tools. The dim lamp light added to the somber air, making it feel like a chamber of conspiracy hiding dangerous secrets.
I reached for the communication device—an old relic fused with both technology and magecraft. As I activated it, a faint red glow pulsed. Not long after, the connection went through. A man's voice came from the other end, calm yet filled with authority. A voice I recognized: Father Risei.
"Hello, I am the Master of Rider. I heard you're planning to halt the war and enforce a temporary ceasefire. Care to explain the reason?" I asked bluntly.
"So, you are Rider's Master." Risei's tone was flat, almost like reciting a prayer at the altar. "That is correct. The Church wishes for the Masters involved in this war to observe a ceasefire. The reason is that we have discovered the presence of an eighth Master who has summoned a Servant. However, that Servant appears to be out of control… and has already dragged civilians into this conflict. We are currently investigating the Servant's identity. As the supervisor of this war, we hope you will comply with our directive."
I leaned back in my chair, my fingers tapping lightly against the armrest. A faint smirk curved across my lips. "Ohhh… is that so? And what about the other Masters? Are you so sure they'll actually obey the Church's orders? You do realize this war isn't fought by saints. Honestly, I'm far more worried about someone stabbing me in the back."
"The Church, as the appointed supervisor, will guarantee absolute honesty and fairness in this war," Risei's voice remained calm, giving no opening. "There is no need for you to worry. All we ask is your cooperation while we uncover the identity of this eighth Master."
For a moment, silence hung in the workshop, broken only by the ticking of an old clock in the corner. I stared at the device in my hand, then let out a small chuckle, as if I could see through the hidden layers in Risei's words.
"Very well, then. I do hope you'll stay true to your word," I said at last, my tone half serious, half mocking.
Without waiting for a reply, I ended the call. The room fell silent once more, accompanied only by the faint glow of the magic circle etched upon the desk.
Three days had passed since I first contacted the Church, and in that time they had managed to impose a fragile truce upon the Masters. Yet peace was only a thin veil. Behind it, the trail of blood still lingered.
Kirei, guided by Assassin's silent hand, had tracked down the location of Caster's hidden workshop. But when he arrived, accompanied by Father Risei and his mentor Tokiomi, the place had already been abandoned.
What remained within those walls was nothing less than a nightmare. Blood soaked the floor until it gathered like a dark, glimmering pond. The bodies of children and adults alike—men and women, young and old—lay strewn across the desecrated ritual circle.
"…Oh, Lord…" Father Risei's voice broke into a prayer, his words trembling as they left his lips.
"Kirei," he asked, almost dreading the answer, "are you certain this is the work of Zouken Matou and Caster?"
"Yes," Kirei replied, his tone as steady as ever. "Assassin confirmed it. I even gave the order to pursue them… but they slipped away."
Tokiomi's face twisted in restrained fury, his voice like steel. "Does the Matou family care nothing for the consequences of their abominations?"
Kirei said nothing. He lowered his head and folded his hands in prayer beside Father Risei. Yet he knew—just as he always had—that no one would ever answer his prayers. That knowledge was precisely why he had chosen the path of the Church's executor. Even so, the sight before him stirred something in his chest, and his heart beat violently against the silence of the slaughter.
…...
Later that night, word reached me. The Church would summon all remaining Masters. Their intent was clear: to unite them against Caster, and to offer reward to any who joined the hunt.
An hour later, the Servants began to gather at the appointed location. The first to arrive was Saber, followed in turn by Lancer, Caster—Iskandar—then Archer, and finally Rider.
Berserker and the second Caster were noticeably absent; it was clear enough that the two were acting in concert. As for Assassin, true to his nature, he remained hidden in the shadows, never once showing himself.
When Rider made his entrance, Saber clenched her fists tightly. Her anger still had not cooled—the fury born from her Master's broken promise to release Irisviel.
Kirei, observing that none of the Masters had come in person and had instead dispatched their Servants, was hardly surprised. He had expected as much.
"Well then, since you are all present, I shall speak plainly, without delay."
A deep voice resonated through the chamber as Father Risei emerged from the rear doors of the church, his steps carrying the weight of authority that pressed against the air.
"This Holy Grail War, which should have been a sacred ritual to grant the wish of its victor, now faces a dire crisis. Ordinarily, this war is meant to bestow its power upon heroic spirits who seek it. But a traitor has arisen among you. A family has betrayed the ritual by summoning an eighth Servant… and that Servant, rather than upholding the noble cause of this war, has turned upon innocent civilians, dragging them into its chaos."
Father Risei paused, his gaze sharp as a blade.
"The Church has confirmed that the one responsible is Zouken Matou. He has allowed his Servant to act unchecked, bringing disaster upon this city. I trust I need not recount in detail the atrocities of the second Caster—you all know them well enough. What matters is this: he has committed the gravest of violations. He has brazenly displayed magecraft before the public, with no effort whatsoever to conceal it…"
The church fell into a heavy silence. After those words, Kirei could feel the tremor of unease reverberating through the Masters, tied as they were to their Servants. Even Tokiomi, his composure renowned, could not completely suppress the shudder within his heart.
"He and his Servant are no longer merely private enemies. From this moment on, they are enemies to all of you—for their actions threaten the very sanctity of the Holy Grail War. By the authority vested in me as Overseer, I hereby declare a temporary change to the rules of this war."
"All Masters are to cease hostilities against one another. A truce is in effect until the eighth Servant and his Master are eliminated. Whichever Master succeeds in slaying them shall be rewarded by the Overseer with additional Command Spells."
As Father Risei spoke, he raised his arm. Etched across his flesh were Command Spells upon Command Spells, so numerous they climbed up his hand and along his forearm like chains of living scripture.
"…At that point, you can't even call them Command Spells anymore," I muttered, watching from my television screen at home, a bucket of popcorn in one hand and soda in the other. "Looks more like tattoos, don't you think?"
Beside me, Irisviel sat stiffly, her gaze uncertain. My shifting demeanor—at times cruel, at others strangely kind—left her unsettled. "Y-yes… Master," she answered, her voice betraying her unease. Fear lingered in her eyes; the fear that I might cut her open or torment her again. I ignored her reaction entirely, my attention fixed on the performance unfolding before me.
"These Command Spells are remnants of previous wars," Father Risei continued, his tone resounding through the chapel. "They were collected from Masters who had been eliminated. For those who yet fight, they will prove most valuable. I alone decide how they shall be distributed."
The Masters who listened through the bond with their Servants did not doubt his words. None could dispute the authority of the Overseer.
"If a single Master succeeds in this task, the reward shall be theirs alone. If several accomplish it together, each shall receive one Command Spell. Once the second Caster is confirmed slain, the war shall resume without delay."
Father Risei lowered his arm then, his eyes sweeping the gathered Heroic Spirits.
"Now. If any wish to speak, you may. But questions will only be heard from those capable of words."
The silence that followed was heavy and absolute. Not one Servant stirred to respond. At length, they departed one by one, their forms dissolving into the darkness beyond the church doors.
.....
Meanwhile, at the Matou residence.
In the damp, suffocating basement, the air was thick with the buzzing of maggots and the flutter of insects. The stench of rot mingled with the oppressive weight of foul magecraft, saturating the chamber.
Zouken—his grotesque body composed of swarming insects bound together—seethed with rage upon hearing that he had been marked for elimination. His fury rippled outward, and the countless vermin around him quivered in response.
"Caster," he hissed, his voice rasping with venom, "how are the preparations? Are you ready?"
"Yes, Master."
Unlike the timeline where Caster could act freely, here Zouken had ensured his complete subjugation. By consuming two Command Spells and binding him with his parasitic magecraft, Zouken stripped Caster of all independence, guaranteeing he would never spiral out of control as in Fate/Zero.
As for the sacrifices—the bodies piled and drained for his rituals—those were no accident. Zouken had offered them deliberately, both to extend his decaying lifespan and to fortify his stake in the war. Yet now, his careful plans had been disturbed. The Church's interference threatened everything.
"…So be it," he muttered, a twisted smile stretching across his withered face. "If it comes to this, I will throw Caster to the wolves. He will serve as bait. Meanwhile, Berserker will finish the rest."
At his side, Kariya Matou lay collapsed on the floor, unconscious. His body was being devoured alive from within, gnawed endlessly by Zouken's accursed worms, leaving him half-living, half-corpse.
"Tsk. Worthless child," Zouken sneered with disgust. "At the very least, Shinji is of more use than you."
For in this timeline, Shinji had survived his trial. Though his body was eaten alive from within by the swarm, his stubborn will kept him clinging to life—enough for Zouken to deem him valuable.
.....
Screen, Irisviel glanced at Allen. She seemed to have something she wanted to ask, and as if realizing it, Allen met her gaze calmly.
"If you want to speak, go ahead," he said casually.
Irisviel gripped the hem of her dress tightly before gathering the courage to speak.
"Master… you said you don't need the Holy Grail, and that you only joined this war for fun… but you've never told me the real reason. Why don't you want the Grail?"
Allen raised an eyebrow slightly, slowly stroking his chin with his fingertip as though weighing his answer.
"Ohhh… so that's what you want to know?"
Irisviel nodded softly.
"Well," Allen gave a faint smile, "it would be a long story if I told you everything from the beginning. But fine… I'll tell you the most important part."
The atmosphere shifted. Though his tone remained casual, his words carried weight, pressing heavily on her chest.
"That Grail," he said, "is already corrupted. It hasn't been able to grant wishes since the Third Grail War. Your family… it seems they never truly told you what happened back then."
Irisviel froze. "What do you mean…?"
"At that time, the Einzbern—your family—made a grave mistake. They summoned a Servant that should never have been called. The eighth Servant… of the Avenger class."
Her body stiffened in shock. "Avenger…? But there should only be seven classes—"
Allen nodded, his eyes gleaming with a strange light.
"Yes. They summoned the spirit of a man known as Angra Mainyu—'All the World's Evil.' A human forced to bear the sins of all mankind. He was not a hero, but a concept… a curse given form."
Irisviel's hands flew to her mouth. "That… that's impossible…"
"From that moment, the Grail ceased to be a holy vessel. Angra Mainyu's spiritual body seeped into the system itself, tainting the foundation of the ritual. What remains is nothing but a vessel filled with black mud—pure malice. That is why anyone who wins it will not obtain hope… only disaster."
Allen's gaze pierced into her, sharp enough to reach the depths of her soul.
"If someone were to use that Grail… the world would drown in hatred and ruin. Not just a small calamity, but the annihilation of mankind. That is why I do not desire it, Irisviel. Because I know exactly what would be born from it."
Irisviel could not speak. Allen's voice echoed in her mind, leaving her chest heavy and tight. All this time, she believed the Holy Grail was the answer—hope itself. Yet through his words, that hope transformed into something horrifying.
She looked back at him, trembling.
"…Then, if that's the case… why do you still choose to join this war, Allen?"
Allen chuckled lightly, returning to his relaxed demeanor.
"Because… I want to see just how far people are willing to go for what they call 'hope.' Besides," his lips curved into a sly grin.
*****
I need coffee here, do you want to buy it for me?.
👉 suport me to buy me a ☕ link at: Patreon.com/RRam784
You can also support this FF by throwing your power stone at me.
Every bit of support means so much and helps me keep creating consistently. ❤️