As Emiya fell, both Saber and Illyasviel cried out in alarm.
Saber immediately charged forward to catch him—but it was already too late. With Moriarty fully buffed and having unleashed a Noble Phantasm, Emiya had reached his limit. Golden light radiated from his body.
He gave a wry smile, lying in Saber's arms.
"This is… truly a miserable defeat…"
With those words, he closed his eyes. His body gradually dissolved into strange motes of light, scattering into the air.
Emiya – defeated.
Saber's face darkened. She rose to her feet, dispelling Invisible Air from the holy sword and revealing its true form, pointing the blade straight at Moriarty.
Illyasviel, too, gave Heracles the order to prepare for an all-out attack.
"Oh my, a joint battle? And a two-on-one, no less? That's rather unlike you, Princess of Knights."
Moriarty elegantly produced a handkerchief from who-knows-where and began polishing his coffin, his voice dripping with mockery.
Saber's expression only grew darker. She was about to raise her sword and bring it down on Moriarty when another voice interrupted her.
"Wait, wait, wait—Princess of Knights?"
Turning, Saber saw Chikujōin Magane grinning wickedly, stepping in her way.
"This time, how about you let me take a turn?"
Without waiting for Saber's response, Magane turned to Moriarty with a taunting smile.
"To cross blades with the legendary Napoleon of Crime—how delightful! Let me see whether the great James Moriarty truly lives up to his name."
"It seems, young lady, that you're the murderous type," Moriarty said with a helpless shake of his head. "What a pity. If you're looking for a real killer, you should find that little miss over there, or the Doctor—or better yet, Lady Shiki. As for me, I'm just an ordinary old man with… oh, perhaps a slight fondness for mischief."
Who would believe that?
"Little miss? Doctor? Lady Shiki? Are those all Servants too?"
Magane furrowed her brow, then quickly broke into a cheerful laugh.
"Whatever. Right now, the only one in front of me is you—so let's have ourselves a grand, heart-pounding duel!"
Where does she get the confidence to go head-to-head with a Servant? Ritsuka silently cursed. Seeing that Moriarty actually seemed to be considering the challenge, she quickly cut in:
"Sorry, old man with the bad back—maybe next time. You head back."
Hearing that he didn't need to fight, Moriarty immediately retreated to his team's side. The dignified aura he'd carried just moments before vanished completely.
"So… anyone got any black tea?"
Honestly, Ritsuka had no idea why the enemy wanted to insist on fighting one-on-one instead of attacking together. (Probably because a group brawl would turn into an instant slaughter, especially with over 200 Servants watching from above.) Still, she didn't mind—this way her Servants could warm up and get some real combat practice. Staying cooped up in Chaldea for too long turned even the best fighters into rust.
-"What?! Hey, you cowardly old man—don't run away! Seriously, to think the so-called legendary criminal is just a loyal dog who listens to a little girl's every word?!"
Magane was furious now, loudly taunting both Ritsuka and Moriarty in hopes of goading him into fighting.
Ritsuka's mood soured instantly. Fine. You want trouble?
Without hesitation, she called out:
Gramps—she's all yours!"
DONG… DONG… DONG…
A strange, heavy bell began to toll across the battlefield. Magane, who had been shouting just moments before, froze and shuddered. She could feel someone nearby—someone she could not see—but whose overwhelming presence pressed upon her senses. This person wanted her dead.
Her hair stood on end. The tolling bell seemed to echo from some ancient, distant place, carrying the scent of death and smothering the entire battlefield. Everyone felt the weight of it on their lungs.
---
"Something… something's coming!"
Magane's teeth chattered. She could sense it clearly now—someone was here who could kill her effortlessly.
"What the hell is this? What's with this terrifying aura?!" she demanded of Ritsuka.
There it is again—every time something happens beyond their understanding, they have to ask me. Can't they just quietly accept their fate? Ritsuka's expression betrayed her irritation.
Blue flames suddenly erupted in front of Magane, making her jump back in alarm. The flames poured forth from nowhere, and within them, a shadowed figure took shape.
"The bell tolls… seems today, a particularly grave head shall fall," the figure said as he stepped out of the azure fire.
The sight made everyone's heart jolt—
A skull mask. Heavy black armor. In his hands, a massive, ink-black sword (or perhaps something beyond a sword). Blue flames flickered from his body, licking across the intricate patterns of his armor. Staring at him for too long brought a strange dizziness. He seemed like a Reaper, walking from Hell itself into the living world.
"Servant: Old Man of the Mountain. I descend here as the Grand Assassin."

His calm voice echoed in their ears—and with it, the suffocating aura vanished. But the tolling bell did not stop.
Selesia glanced at her Creator.
"Another one?! Hey, Creator—did you know about this?"
Takashi Matsubara shook his head.
"No. 'Old Man of the Mountain' should mean 'Hassan-i Sabbah.' That's the name of the legendary assassin order. In the Fourth and Fifth Holy Grail Wars, none of the Hassan-i Sabbahs were monsters of this level… this must be another Hassan summoned in Chaldea. But a Grand Assassin? What does that even mean?"
---
Ritsuka stepped forward, drawing everyone's attention.
"Let me explain. Remember when I told you about the Human Order Incineration incident? Do you know who was behind it all?"
Everyone shook their heads.
"It was a Grand Servant—a false Grand Caster, Solomon! Each class has its own pinnacle. The one who stands at that peak is a 'Grand.' Solomon (false) stood at the top of the Caster class. And this old man here stands at the very summit of the Assassin class—Grand Assassin, the First Hassan-i Sabbah. The origin of all Hassans. Every other Hassan is his descendant. His task? At the end of each person's life, he tolls the final bell… and harvests their soul. You could also call him the Angel of Death."
The shock on everyone's faces satisfied Ritsuka greatly.
"Oh, and by the way—there are seven Servants this strong."
No one could speak. This was an even greater revelation than Moriarty's true identity—this was a figure of pure legend, on par with those who could destroy the world.
The Old Man of the Mountain stared silently at Ritsuka as she bragged about him.
"Master. This time… where is the one whose destiny has come?"
"Her," Ritsuka said, pointing without hesitation at Magane.
"Huh?! Wait, wait, wait! Why me?!" Magane's face paled.
"Silence. I never lie about my contract's terms—you are the one whose time has come."
You're spoiling her way too much, Gramps! Everyone swore inwardly as the Old Man's blue flames flared with irritation.
"Damn it…" Magane muttered. She knew there was no point arguing with this doting old man.
"Fine! So what if you're the pinnacle of the Assassin class? Assassins are useless in direct combat anyway!"
---
"Fool…"
The Old Man's eyes flashed. In an instant, he and his blue flames blinked into existence before Magane. He raised his massive blade high.
"Bring me your head."
"Whoa!" Magane rolled aside just in time. The black sword crashed into the ground, carving a three-meter gash into the earth. Cold sweat poured down her back—if that had landed, she would've been cleaved in two.
When he raised his sword again, Magane quickly shouted toward Illyasviel:
"Hey! There's a Cyclops here!"
Illya blinked, then realized Magane wanted to use her ability.
"No, there isn't!" she replied.
Magane began her incantation.
"Falsehood and deception—let lies become reality."
With a roar, a massive figure appeared between them—blue-skinned, wielding a colossal spiked club, a single blood-red eye glaring murderously at the Old Man of the Mountain.
The Cyclops swung its weapon down, aiming to crush him to dust. But a flash of blue flame—and the Old Man was gone.
---
The monster blinked in confusion, unable to find its target—until it felt a sharp pain in its back. The Old Man's sword was buried deep in its flesh, his movements as practiced as if honed over centuries.
Though his weapon was large, it was nothing compared to the Cyclops's massive frame, and the wound seemed minor. But as he withdrew the blade, he didn't even glance at the creature—simply continued toward Magane.
"It's not dead yet!" Meteora began to warn him—
But Ritsuka stopped her with a smile.
"It's already dead."
As the Old Man walked away, deep, enormous gashes suddenly appeared across the Cyclops's body. The giant toppled over, dissolving into ash.
Magane's eyes widened. Seeing him dispatch her creation so effortlessly made her regret picking this fight. She began to prepare another ability—but the Old Man, unwilling to waste time, simply activated his Noble Phantasm.
"Kiku ga yoi—Listen well."
The aura of death flared around him as he strode forward. Magane tried to flee, but found she could not move.
"Banshō wa nanji no na o sashishimeshita—The bell has named you."
Fear filled her eyes as the Reaper drew near.
"Tsuge shi no hane kubi o tatsu ka—Messenger of death, take the head."
He swung the black blade, speaking the true name of his Noble Phantasm—
Azrael.
The Old Man stood still, sword resting at his side. The tolling of the bell lingered in the air as countless white feathers drifted down. Magane, frozen in terror, dissolved into those feathers and scattered to the wind.
"Pointless… truly pointless," he said as he blinked back to Ritsuka's side.
Chikujōin Magane – defeated.