"So… what information do you have?"
Kairi Sisigou didn't bother with small talk. Sitting down beside the other man, he draped his arms across the backrest and asked directly, stating the purpose of his visit. Meanwhile, Mordred and Semiramis stood at the sides of their respective Masters.
"It seems the Black Faction's Servants are already assembled."
Shirou answered calmly.
"Is that so… do you know their identities?"
"Among them, the Lancer… is presumed to be Vlad III. He should be the most dangerous."
From his breast, Shirou took out a document and handed it to Kairi.
Kairi accepted the list, scanning the names and corresponding information about each Master.
"So they did summon him after all…"
Seeing Vlad's name, he showed little surprise, as though he had already expected it.
"A Servant's strength is influenced by their local fame. Especially in Romania, he would not be summoned as a vampire, but as a hero."
"…"
Kairi's gaze lingered on the list until it reached Saber's entry. The name was left as a question mark. The Master's details, however, were clear—Fiore's photograph was printed there.
"No information on the Black Faction's Saber?"
"Unfortunately, nothing. No matter what method was used, her identity couldn't be uncovered. According to familiar observation… her appearance gives no clue to what kind of Heroic Spirit she may be. But her abilities seem related to lightning. She is female, and judging from her clothing, most likely Japanese."
Shirou shrugged helplessly.
"Oi, oi~ Saber is supposed to be the core of their camp. Isn't it too much of a coincidence that she's the only one without data?"
Kairi's expression grew complicated. Everyone else's identity was known, yet Saber alone remained blank?
"Don't worry. This is only temporary. There will be chances later to learn who she is. For the next stage of planning, this makes little difference."
Shirou spoke without concern, his expression relaxed as he reassured him.
"'Little difference,' huh… tch, fine. Then what about our side?"
"No need for worry. They are all excellent—at least, in terms of quality."
Kairi could hear the unspoken meaning beneath his words.
"Heh… thought so."
He smirked faintly, shooting a sidelong glance at the Assassin beside Shirou—Semiramis, the Empress of Assyria. Noticing his gaze, she smiled wickedly, curving her lips before turning her eyes upon Mordred.
"Tch…"
Mordred scowled, turning her head away in disdain.
"Also… the summoning of the Ruler class has been confirmed."
Shirou rose from his seat and walked toward the wall adorned with carved images, his eyes lifting toward a specific figure.
The image depicted a golden-haired woman dressed in robes, a flag in her right hand, scales in her left. A golden, sacred cross hung around her neck.
"…The fifteenth Servant, huh?"
Kairi frowned deeply, the situation clearly troublesome.
"The Ruler exists to ensure the proper execution of the Holy Grail War. That she has been summoned is only natural."
Shirou turned his face slightly, glancing back at Kairi.
"Haa… what a nuisance. The last thing I want is her eyes on me."
Kairi grumbled, rising to his feet with hands stuffed into his pockets, turning toward the exit.
"You won't meet the other Masters?"
Shirou asked.
"No need. My Saber has more than enough strength to fight alone. And I myself… am a lone wolf."
Clack…
Kairi reached the doors, pulling them open. The sunlight streamed in, scattering the heavy, suffocating chill lingering inside the chapel.
"The enemy has already formed their army in full. If you act recklessly, you'll cause trouble for us. Even so, you refuse to join forces?"
The Empress approached him, her tone half-persuasion.
"Ah… apologies, priest."
Clack…
Resolved, Kairi gave Shirou a casual farewell before stepping outside, shutting the thick wooden door behind him with a long creak.
"Seems we've earned his caution."
Returning to his seat, Shirou brushed his hair back with a rueful smile.
"Ara~ but I've done nothing at all~"
The Empress sighed, mocking lightly.
"Heh… and we still don't know Saber's true name. That complicates things. Information disparity is the worst scenario."
"Which means we must finish the 'Garden' quickly."
The Empress touched her chin, her tone carrying a hint of mystery.
"Just a day or two will be enough. After that, things will become simple."
Leaning back against his chair, Shirou revealed a confident smile.
...
At the same time, in the Black Faction's camp—
By day, the Fortress of Millennia resembled a dreamlike manor. Beyond distant Trifas, it was surrounded by a sea of fresh green meadows and forests, a mysterious sight. A colorless breeze carried the faint aroma of age, brushing over the soft flowers and grass, producing a gentle rustle rustle sound.
Within its luxurious chambers—red carpets, noble furnishings, and walls adorned with masterpieces of art—the reflection of Grand Prince Vlad III's face shimmered in the red wine of his glass.
"Darnic, what do you think I lacked most in life?"
He swirled the wine leisurely as he posed the question to Darnic at his side.
"For someone young like me… to answer that…"
Darnic respectfully closed the stopper on his own glass, then let out a faintly self-deprecating sigh as he heard the question.
"You are a talent, capable of commanding armies. No matter the case, it was never enough."
But the Grand Prince cut him off. To him, Darnic was a shrewd man of ability, and he was quite satisfied with him.
"But… this time is different."
Darnic exhaled and began recalling, one by one, the true names of the Black Faction's Servants, reporting them to his lord.
"Archer—Chiron, the great sage of Greek mythology, teacher of all heroes."
"Rider—Astolfo, one of Charlemagne's Twelve Paladins, famed for many adventures."
"Caster—Avicebron, the Kabbalist and golem master known among magi."
"And Berserker—the frenzied creature created by the genius scientist Victor Frankenstein."
"…Then Lancer—the guardian of his nation, its king and foundation, Vlad III."
At this title, the Grand Prince did not stir, still gazing at the wine in his glass.
"Hmph… Had they been my subordinates in life, I would never have been imprisoned, nor burdened with that foul name."
Raising the cup, his eyes narrowed, his tone tinged with both regret and lingering bitterness.
"But that is the past. What matters is now—defeating the Red Faction and seizing the Holy Grail. For that, I will give my all."
He drank deeply.
"I am glad to hear such words from you."
Darnic bowed slightly.
"And Assassin?"
"She is Jack the Ripper—the killer who shook England a century ago."
"I see…"
The Grand Prince set down his glass and rose, striding to the window to gaze out upon the grassy fields and the distant forest.
"That leaves Saber…"
He murmured low.
"Yes… regarding Saber, I have some concerns."
Darnic, too, set down the wine and stepped behind him.
"That woman who calls herself a god…"
"According to Fiore's account… she appears to be a Heroic Spirit without any historical foundation."
"Oh? Without foundation?"
The Grand Prince turned, intrigued, to look at Darnic.
"Indeed. This Saber does not belong to this world. She claims to hail from a mysterious land called 'Teyvat.'"
"…Teyvat? I have never heard of such a place. Then yes, without foundation indeed."
The Grand Prince stroked his chin, clearly without a clue.
"…And she is one of that land's Seven Archons, bearing the title 'Electro Archon' ruler of mortals—the Seven who govern the world."
At these words, Darnic lifted his eyes to Vlad, who met his gaze in turn. Both carried expressions of utmost seriousness.
"She is truly a god?"
The Grand Prince's deep voice pressed the question.
"Yes… the incarnation of thunder, the God of Eternity. Her true name is Beelzebul, known among her people as the Raiden Shogun."