That day, Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia was more tense than usual. Even the hands controlling her wheelchair, which served as a substitute for her legs that had been immobile since birth, held more strength than normal. And that was hardly without reason.
What she was about to undertake was a great decisive battle that would determine her own, and her clan's, future—the Holy Grail War.
The original Holy Grail War conducted in Fuyuki sixty years ago was a battle to the death between seven Servants and the Masters who commanded them. However, due in part to interference from the Mage's Association, the nature of this Holy Grail War had transformed somewhat.
Gathered were twice the number of Servants as before: fourteen. Yggdmillennia and the Mage's Association. Each would command seven Servants to exterminate the opposing seven Servants.
A "war" of unprecedented scale, where peerless heroes famed across all ages and lands would assemble. That was the Holy Grail War.
The Yggdmillennia clan, including Fiore, had staked their entire future on this battle. If they lost, they would be destroyed. Turning back was not permitted. Having seceded from the Mage's Association, Yggdmillennia had no means of survival other than achieving victory in this war.
Fiore gazed intently at the Command Spells residing in her hand. The pulsating magical energy formed three sigils. To an outside observer, they might look like tattoos, but to Fiore, they were her trump card, her lifeline, and her passport to the war.
The Command Spells dwelling in a Master's hand granted three absolute commands. Even though she was a mage, Fiore was still merely human; this was her only means of commanding a Servant—that is, a Heroic Spirit.
Their presence confirmed without a doubt that Fiore was one of the Masters recognized by the Holy Grail. Of course, as the holder of the second highest rank within Yggdmillennia, she was also the next head of the family, and one of the few first-rate mages within the clan, whose members were numerous if not always quality... There was no reason she wouldn't be chosen.
Ever since she had heard of this matter from Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia, the current head, her participation had been practically a foregone conclusion.
Therefore, in order to survive and fulfill the responsibility of bearing her clan's fate, Fiore had exhaustively prepared, making arrangements in every possible way to summon the finest Heroic Spirit.
In the bundle resting on her lap was the catalyst to summon the greatest Archer in the world—an ancient arrowhead, stained with bluish-black blood surviving from the Age of Gods.
There were only two possible Heroic Spirits that could be summoned from this arrowhead. One was the very one who shot this arrow: Hercules, the strongest and greatest hero of Greece. The other was the great sage Chiron, who was struck by this arrow.
Both were the finest archers whose names were etched in myth. Whichever one was summoned, the Archer class was certain, and they were the best possible Heroic Spirits one could conceive of for the Archer class.
It wasn't that she felt no fear or anxiety about calling down such beings, who existed on heights unreachable by ordinary humans, into the present world and commanding them.
The Lancer of the head, Darnic, who had already completed his summoning, and the Caster of the youngest "Black" Master, the golem prodigy Roche Frain Yggdmillennia, were both great personages whose very encounter could be called a miracle.
While Caster's general fame had to be said to be low, for a mage like Fiore, he was a figure who could not be ignored. As for Lancer, he was the great hero of this very land, Romania: Vlad III.
He was world-famous, and within this country, his fame bonus swelled to its maximum. Lancer's parameters were virtually at their peak. As a Servant, he was of the highest standard.
The shock of seeing his figure was unforgettable—an overwhelming sense of pressure she had never experienced before. It was truly the bearing of a king, nothing less than an unshakable self-identity, peerless and permitted only to a being transcending humanity.
A possessor of power that could make people kneel with a single thought. That was the standard-bearer of the "Black" faction, whom their head revered as a king.
In the ritual chamber, a complex and precise magic circle had already been drawn with a mixture of melted gold and silver.
There were four summoners present, including Fiore. The "Black" faction had five remaining summoning slots. This day, they intended to fill four of those slots simultaneously through a mass summoning.
One person was not present, as they would be performing their summoning in a far-eastern island nation. Meaning, unless that one Servant joined them, they would be at a numerical disadvantage no matter what.
Precisely for that reason, they had to assemble their pieces before the Mage's Association could organize their own faction. The enemy's fundamental strength was already superior, so they could not afford any oversights in their preparations.
Now, Fiore too would summon a Servant. Her aim was solely the Archer class.
The murmuring ceased, and as if gauging the moment, the head stood up. On the throne was Lancer, overlooking the ritual from on high.
"Now, each of you, place the catalysts you have gathered upon the altar."
At Darnic's instruction, the Masters nodded. One by one, they placed their catalysts upon the altar.
Suddenly, the tension spiked, and her heart leaped. With practiced hands, Fiore manipulated her catalyst, placed it on the altar, and returned to her designated spot.
Her chest felt ready to burst. Magical energy circulated through her entire body, assailing the Magic Circuits embedded in both her legs.
"Let silver and steel be the essence.
Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.
Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill.
Let each be filled after repeating five times.
Now, let it be shattered once the cycle is complete.
Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword.
In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.
Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead,
I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.
Yet, you, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ――――!"
Fiore had drawn an Archer-class Servant, just as she had aimed for. By that point, a considerable amount of magical energy had drained from her body, and it was clear to her eyes, trained from her time in the Spiritual Evocation department, that the being before her was not of this world.
Consequently, Fiore thought the summoning had proceeded without a hitch, let out a relieved sigh, and felt a wave of relief.
But her exhilaration lasted only until that moment.
When one of the four summoned Servants, the Rider-class Servant Astolfo, went around asking each Servant for their True Names, Fiore's Servant spoke in a deeply troubled voice, yet without any pretense.
"My apologies, but I cannot tell you my name. For some reason I do not understand, my memories seem to be in disarray. To be honest, I cannot recall my own name."
Back in her room, Fiore glared at her Servant with a displeased expression.
The reason was clear: he was not the Servant she had desired. He was neither Hercules nor Chiron. She didn't know where she had gone wrong, but it seemed she had summoned a completely different Heroic Spirit.
To make matters worse, he claimed not to know his own name. His parameters, while belonging to one of the three Knight classes, were mediocre.
A Servant's parameters are influenced by their Master's prowess and their own fame. Even if he were amnesiac, if he were a great personage summoned by a first-rate mage, his specs should remain high.
In other words, this Archer—with low specs despite being summoned by Fiore—could only be a Heroic Spirit of low standing.