Within the endless white void, a man toyed with several "marbles" in his hands.
"It's gotten a little quiet around here."
"I've decided. I'll randomly select a few lucky souls and grant their wishes."
He balanced the beautiful "marbles" in his palm, examining them with idle amusement.
The identity of this man? That was a meaningless question. He himself had no idea how long he had existed. He only knew that the last time he had encountered another being, they addressed him as...
God.
Though even that had been an unknowable stretch of time ago.
"Hmm, but just handing them out directly would be far too boring."
"Oh, I know. Let's hold a special war."
As if glimpsing some entertaining scene yet to unfold, he murmured to himself. The moment the thought took shape, seven orange orbs appeared in his hand, each containing a differing number of stars within.
"Earth will do for starters."
With the location and era already settled upon, God began scouting for participants.
"..."
"..."
But just then, he sensed two consciousnesses reaching out to him in communication.
This world's Gaia and Alaya...
"You want two participant slots?"
"Hmm... that's not out of the question, but don't go choosing anyone who will wreck the whole thing."
"I know you're trying to replicate otherworldly existences and forge new Heroic Spirits... but fine, I don't mind."
Understanding the calculated request of these two entities, God agreed to Their conditions. After all, the stage was set on their turf. Giving a little face cost him nothing, and when he was in a good mood, he was easy to talk to.
"Then... the Dimensional Dragon Ball War..."
"Let it begin."
"This is a war that can truly grant wishes, after all."
The seven orange orbs in his hands gradually shrank, then transformed into beams of light that streaked off toward different locations.
"I announce..."
Late at night in Fuyuki City, a ritual unknown to the world was underway.
The Holy Grail War.
A war fought over the omnipotent cup, rumored to grant any wish, even passage to the "Root." Seven chosen participants, designated as "Masters," would command summoned Servants to wage battle. The last one standing would obtain the wish-granting vessel.
And tonight was the night many of those Masters would summon their Servants. Every single one of the chosen believed themselves to be the destined victor.
The crimson marks surfacing on the backs of their hands were the proof of their title as "Master."
Bang!!
"Cough, cough..."
Waver Velvet, a student of the Clock Tower, had intervened in this war for his own personal reasons.
The pervasive smoke gradually dissipated, and the silhouette emerging from within it allowed him to release a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
'The summoning ritual succeeded.'
'Now the question is... which Heroic Spirit did I get?'
He still had no idea who he'd called forth, but in this anomalous Holy Grail War, at least it proved he had the most basic guarantee of survival.
His hand, buried in his pocket, tightened around the orange orb. Waver's nerves were getting the better of him.
When the face of the figure before him finally came into focus, his mind went blank for a moment.
An almost biting aura of authority paired with striking features; pitch-black hair, deep purple irises, and a bewitching beauty that bordered on otherworldly. A resplendent white imperial coat made his status as something beyond ordinary unmistakable. His frame appeared slender, almost delicate, yet the sheer force of his presence was undeniable.
"Are you my Master?"
The newcomer appraised him briefly, then posed the question.
"Yes!"
Waver's reply came out tense, his body trembling for reasons he couldn't quite name.
"This is Japan?"
Without dwelling on Waver's reaction, the Servant turned and surveyed the surroundings. From the elevated platform, the glittering night skyline of the city stretched out below.
"Eh?"
Waver blinked. Servants were heroes plucked from history; even with the knowledge the Grail instilled upon summoning, identifying the country this quickly was... odd.
"It's nothing. Allow me to introduce myself. We'll be partners cooperating in the war ahead, and a relationship built on distrust would be... inconvenient."
"My Class is Rider."
"My name..."
"Lelouch Vi Britannia."
"Kirei, have you completed the summoning?"
"Yes, Teacher."
In a dark mansion at night, Tohsaka Tokiomi, one of Fuyuki City's established landlords, regarded his disciple with anticipation.
"The Class is Assassin."
Without hesitation, Kotomine Kirei disclosed the Class of his Servant.
"An unconventional Assassin, then?"
"No matter. Employed wisely, he can still grant us a significant advantage."
Tokiomi shifted his gaze to the man leaning against the doorframe. The figure's aura was one of utter stillness, the kind that invited morbid curiosity.
Brown-red hair gathered in a long ponytail. A distinct cross-shaped scar on the left cheek. Eyes carrying a cold gleam that instilled quiet dread. Dressed in the garb of a bygone era's wandering ronin, a katana hung at his waist.
"He is an exceedingly skilled swordsman. In a straight fight, I suspect I'd be dead in the blink of an eye."
Kirei glanced back at his own Servant, recalling the uproar the summoning had caused. His father had been so rattled by the Servant's killing intent that he'd instinctively moved to strike first; the result had nearly been his head parting from his shoulders in a single flash of steel.
The godlike speed Assassin displayed had genuinely astounded Kotomine Kirei.
Battousai... Himura Kenshin.
A title and name distinctly Japanese in origin. The curiosity gnawing at him over this man's identity made Kirei itch to dive into historical archives immediately.
"No need for self-deprecation."
"Servants are, by definition, extraordinary heroes..."
"It's only natural that a Master would be no match."
Swirling his glass of red wine, Tokiomi smiled with practiced elegance.
"Teacher, your Servant..."
"Ah, don't worry about that. It went exactly as expected."
When asked about his own situation, Tokiomi's expression brightened visibly, enthusiasm bleeding through his composure.
The Servant Tokiomi had summoned was Archer. As one of the Three Knight Classes, he had every reason to be pleased. After all, it was the most ancient of kings, famed throughout history...
Gilgamesh!
His status and strength were beyond question.
'Even with whatever anomalies this Holy Grail War may hold, the advantage is mine...'
"Stop!"
"Kill him! Berserker!"
The words were merciless. The purple-haired girl watched the old man before her without a shred of pity.
The Berserker clad in pitch-black armor surged forward.
"You think that's enough to kill me?"
The old man stood on the staircase, leaning on his wooden cane with a wicked grin. A Servant was formidable, certainly, but his own depth of accumulated magecraft was nothing to scoff at.
Swarms of insects launched toward the attacker, only to be vaporized instantly by an unfamiliar power of light. Energy of a kind the old man had never encountered before.
"Of all people, you're the one who was chosen..."
Sensing something, the old man spared a glance at the sounds emanating from outside the door, but dismissed them. His physical body was pulverized by Berserker in an instant, but Matou Zouken hardly cared.
"These tiny beads. If seven are collected, any wish can be granted..."
"This Holy Grail War. I will seize them all."
Greed surged from within. Matou Zouken could barely contain his impatience. Originally, he'd had no intention of joining this iteration of the Holy Grail War. But with these new variables in play, he naturally wanted to try his hand.
Especially since Kariya hadn't been chosen as a Master. Instead, young Sakura had been selected, which was genuinely surprising. By all logic, this was the most improbable outcome. Yet it happened, and he had no choice but to deal with it; the collateral reach of a Holy Grail War never left anyone untouched.
Compared to Kariya, Sakura was incomparably talented. He'd initially entertained the thought of watching to see how far that failure Kariya could go. As expected, he had overthought it. Even the Grail itself wouldn't acknowledge that waste.
Long ago, he had planned to begin "modifying" the girl inherited from the Tohsaka family, but an inexplicable protection of light had shielded her all this time. Now, with her summoning a Servant, his suspicions were confirmed.
This girl's silent prayers and desperate cries for help had been answered by something...
"Hmm?"
As Zouken drove his main body, the "Crest Worm," to flee its hiding place, a massive surge of magical energy erupted. Instinct screamed at him to run.
BOOM!!
A pillar of black light exploded from the ground, ripping through the entire basement ceiling. Every remaining insect below was consumed by the sheer force and annihilated, leaving only two figures.
One was Matou Sakura, her expression cold and distant. The other was a warrior resting a hand gently atop her head, his entire body radiating dark energy. Encased in black armor with an ominous greatsword sheathed on his back, his helmet concealed his face entirely.
"Berserker..."
"Not as simple as this old man assumed."
Zouken identified the other party's Class at a glance, suppressing the dread coiling in his chest. The figure's appearance alone screamed danger, but a man of Zouken's experience did not frighten easily.
Until the very next moment, when his face contorted in shock.
The warrior charged toward his hidden position with impossible speed, leaving him no room to resist.
"Stop!"
Before he could even mount a defense, the lifeline hidden in the shadows was seized, the "Crest Worm" that served as his true body.
'How did he find it...?'
'This old man's centuries of refined magecraft, exposed so effortlessly?'
Sensing the grip of death close around him, Zouken scrambled to speak, but the warrior showed no mercy and crushed his core without pause.
"AAAAAH!!!"
In the wave of catharsis washing over Matou Sakura, the old man who had tormented her for so long finally crumbled to dust.
"Holy Grail War..."
An orange orb rolled down from above. Sakura's trembling fingers closed around it. The Four-Star Ball was breathtakingly beautiful.
Instilled with the relevant knowledge, she understood exactly what kind of dangerous conflict she had been drawn into.
'But... it doesn't matter.'
'Because Berserker is here.'
In her darkest hour of despair, the one who answered her was not Father Tokiomi. Not Mother Aoi. Not Uncle Kariya, and not Sister Rin.
It was the Berserker known as the "Warrior of Light."
He was the strongest.
Matou Sakura believed that with absolute certainty.
"Blegh blegh blegh!!!"
"What the hell is this?"
"Disgusting. This guy's just like Marik."
Inside a dingy house, staring at the revolting environment around him, the blond-haired young man voiced his displeasure loudly.
He'd been invited to a special duel that could grant any wish. So how the hell had he ended up in this mess? His assigned partner turned out to be a deranged serial killer.
"Good thing an accident happened to him. Otherwise, being stuck with this creep? I'd seriously lose it."
Whether it was the killer's rotten luck or Jonouchi's own famous good fortune kicking in, the murderous Master had somehow smacked the back of his head against the wall and died on the spot.
Jonouchi grimaced at the sight, picked up the "Dragon Ball" the man had dropped, and felt a twinge of unease.
"My Class is... Caster?"
"A role that fights using magecraft?"
"But I don't know any magecraft! And the so-called Master just died. What am I supposed to do? Without one, won't I just vanish?!"
After agonizing over it for a while, he at least gave the man a proper burial. Then the headache truly set in.
"Oh wait, I just thought of something. Maybe this'll work."
Snapping his fingers, something clicked. A mechanical construct materialized on his left arm.
"Alright! The Duel Disk and my Deck are both here!"
"Gotta check fast if there's any card I can use..."
"Can't get eliminated before the game even starts!!"
"I ask of you. Are you my Master?"
Kiritsugu stared at the girl in gleaming holy armor with a blank expression, feeling a creeping sense of absurdity.
This girl was the legendary "King Arthur"?
Or had he drawn a dud?
On paper, pulling Saber, the strongest Class, was a fantastic hand. But her actual identity left him somewhat off-balance. Without another word, Kiritsugu ultimately chose to leave this situation for his wife, Irisviel, to handle.
"Need to collect all seven, huh..."
Running his fingers over the Command Spells on the back of his hand, contemplating the war ahead, Kiritsugu's brow furrowed. He fished out an orange orb engraved with a single star; it gleamed brilliantly under the moonlight.
With doubt lingering in his mind, one thought surfaced:
"Can something this small really grant wishes?"
"Kayneth, why do you insist on coming?"
"You already said it's just a simple rural competition. So why bother?"
Sola-Ui, ready to depart, was thoroughly displeased with Kayneth's arrival. She had warned him multiple times, yet he stubbornly insisted on tagging along, and her patience was wearing thin.
She never should have told him about this special Holy Grail War in the first place.
Masters needed to gather items called "Dragon Balls," and once all seven were collected, wishes could be granted. Whether or not it was real, since she'd been chosen, she had every right and reason to investigate. And absolutely no reason to back down.
Unfortunately, Kayneth caught wind of it and refused to stay home.
"Sola, I'm merely here as your collaborator."
"Lancer may have manifested as a Heroic Spirit, but no matter how you look at her, she's just a girl of unknown origin."
"A 'Magical Girl'? Absolutely ridiculous."
Kayneth rationalized his presence. He hadn't been selected for this Holy Grail War. His fiancee had. That alone felt deeply unsettling. But driven by a refusal to stand idly by, he had followed her regardless. With his help, things would surely go more smoothly.
After all, while Sola's summoned Servant did hold one of the Three Knight Classes, she hardly inspired confidence at first glance.
"Tch..."
Leaning against the wall, the girl in a light green casual top and blue jeans, her long crimson hair tied with a black ribbon, let her displeasure show upon hearing that remark.
"Hmph. Don't you dare talk about Lancer like that. If you can't trust her, then don't come getting in the way."
Sola's mood soured further. She finally had a chance of her own, and here was an "outsider" endlessly chattering about "that card of yours is no good" and "you'd be better off doing this." Armchair generals who criticized before the battle even began were nothing if not insufferable.
"Forget it. If you insist on staying."
Clearing his throat, recognizing the displeasure etched on his fiancee's face, Kayneth wisely chose not to press his luck with further low-EQ commentary.
And so, the seven Servants were summoned. The grand Holy Grail... No. The Dragon Ball War was about to begin.
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]
PS: New book, seeking support!!! Please vote and recommend!!
A quick explanation for those unfamiliar with Fate:
Saber refers to the Swordsman class.
Lancer uses a spear.
Rider commands or rides something.
Archer uses a bow (theoretically).
Berserker is the Mad Warrior class.
Assassin is the stealth killer.
Caster is the Magician class.
Each Class represents a different type of hero and fighting style. It's fairly intuitive: their Class tells you what they're good at.
The ones who summon them are called "Masters."
Masters have three Command Spells, and can expend one to force a Servant to carry out a single action. (Though it's less effective on Servants with high magic resistance.)
That's the gist of it.