Gazing at the man's back by the window, Fiore fell into a brief silence.
"..."
Her expression was somewhat troubled. It wasn't simply that she hated conflict. Like other magi, she had studied at the Clock Tower, where she still had classmates. It wasn't that she bore resentment toward them, nor did it mean she would instantly become their enemy… but in her heart, there was unease.
Naturally, there was also fear. This was the world of magi, and the Clock Tower was its supreme symbol. The enormity of that organization filled her with dread when she thought about it too deeply.
Though fear lingered within her, there was no way she could oppose the head of her family—her uncle, who stood before her. He was powerful, a monster with a formidable magic crest. To defy him would mean instant expulsion from the clan, and the fate of a traitor.
"Let's go, Fiore."
The man turned back and urged her before taking the first step forward.
"Yes…"
She snapped out of her thoughts and nodded, the maid behind her pushing the wheelchair forward.
From the beginning, she had known there was no way to resist her family's demands. Still, she had wanted to protest, until the day she was shown the massive white altar—the colossal magic circle, pulsing with inexhaustible mana.
'I will let you see this, but you must keep it secret from the others.'
That was what Darnic told her as he led her to the chamber beneath the hidden Greater Grail. Though it had not yet been activated, its overwhelming mana and sanctity made her dizzy. She clutched her chest, suppressing the urge to faint.
'As long as this wish-granting device exists, your heart's desire can be realized.'
Yes… she could not resist the whispers of temptation. She, too, had a wish. A wish that magecraft alone could never grant.
Lowering her gaze to her unfeeling legs, she gently stroked them with her palm. That wish alone was enough to drive her to commit to this—facing the Mage's Association, and stepping into the peril of the Holy Grail War.
Minutes later—
"Now then… let the lords of our house join in the ritual to summon our Servants."
"Yes, Uncle."
When the two of them entered the Audience Hall where the summoning was to take place, the four Masters had already gathered. Besides them, homunculi silently carried in the necessary implements.
The magic circle had already been inscribed, the materials prepared with a mixture of dissolved gold and silver. Thanks to the efforts of a mage maintaining their temperature, they still remained in liquid form. The circle's scale was vast, sufficient to summon multiple Servants in one stroke.
The time was only a few minutes before midnight—when their summoning would begin. Aside from the faint glow of the elaborate magic circle, the great hall was dim, without any other light.
The noise in the hall suddenly ceased. With around ten minutes left until midnight, Darnic stepped before the throne, spreading his arms as he proclaimed:
"—Then, please place the catalysts you have gathered upon the altar."
The Masters nodded, Fiore among them.
The first—Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia. A rather fat man, and Fiore's uncle, he always carried himself with arrogance. His magecraft specialty was alchemy.
Fiore lifted her gaze slightly toward the box in his hand. His catalyst must have been either extremely valuable or something he wished to keep hidden from others, for he never removed it from the box.
He set the box upon the circle, then stepped back to rejoin the group, his chest puffed out proudly over his large belly.
The second—Celenike Icecolle Yggdmillennia. She practiced black magic, often providing sacrifices by cutting open the abdomens of beasts or humans and kissing their hearts. With a delicate face, she nevertheless carried the stench of blood.
Fiore always tried to keep her distance from Celenike, feeling she was not suited to deal with such a person. Celenike's catalyst was a stained glass bottle, within which some unknown liquid sloshed.
The third—Caules Forvedge Yggdmillennia, her younger brother. He practiced summoning magecraft, and gave off an air of immaturity, as if he were not yet eighteen.
Speaking of age… she herself had little room to comment. At that moment, Caules, lacking confidence, was muttering the incantations under his breath as he placed his catalyst—an old sheet of paper covered in anatomical sketches—into the circle. Fiore thought she glimpsed a few words scrawled in the lower right corner: "The Ideal Human"?
The last participant was herself, Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia. Her background had already been introduced, so there was little need to repeat it.
She opened the small wooden box on her lap… revealing her catalyst resting quietly inside.
—It was a purple bellflower.
This was the first time everyone had seen each other's catalysts in public, and naturally they were curious. Caules, noticing his sister's, was surprised.
"A flower? Do you recognize it, Sister?"
"I'm not really sure…"
Fiore shook her head. She knew little of flowers—truthfully, she knew little of the outside world in general. She was a specialist magus.
"I see… but it suits you, Sister…"
To Caules, his sister Fiore was pure, just like a flower.
"Oh~ a bellflower, is it."
Darnic, however, seemed to know. He chuckled.
"Uncle… you recognize it?"
Caules turned to the man standing beside the throne.
"Heh… a dreamlike flower. Beauty tinged with boundless transience and a trace of sorrow."
Darnic smiled faintly as he explained:
"Its meaning is—'Eternal Love.'"
Eternal… love.
Fiore lowered her gaze to the flower in her hand, gently brushing its leaves with her fingers.
"I see… such a meaningful catalyst. I am all the more eager to behold the hero who will answer its call."
"Che… in the end, it's just a subordinate who obeys our orders."
Gordes muttered under his breath, arms crossed.
If her summoning succeeded, she would treasure her Servant, treating them sincerely and wholeheartedly.
"Fiore."
"Yes… Uncle Gordes."
Hearing his call, she raised her head, patiently looking at him.
"You had better put forth your full effort! Though I'm still bitter that Darnic gave the Saber position to you, in this situation I must put the greater cause above my pride! Besides, this is the perfect chance to temper you, the future head of our house."
Gordes spoke sternly as he admonished her.
"…Understood. I will not betray that expectation."
Fiore hesitated for less than a second before answering smoothly. She then exchanged a glance with the maid behind her.
Pushed forward in her wheelchair, she finally set her box at the very center of the circle. Compared to the others, hers alone was a flower.
"Such an unusual catalyst… and not only that, even your Command Spells differ from ours, Sister."
It was true. Hearing this, Gordes glanced at the back of her hand. The three-pronged crest there was beautifully intricate, unlike the class-based designs of theirs.
"Mm… it's beautiful."
Returning to her place, Fiore gazed down at the mark on her hand. A faint smile crossed her lips as she gently traced the pattern.