That game console had originally been a gift from Rin Tohsaka's classmate. But since Rin was hopeless with electronics, she'd never even figured out how to turn it on—so it sat on the counter as a decoration until Gilgamesh spotted it and finally put it to its proper use.
Watching that scene only made Tohsaka Tokiomi's headache worse.
To the point where he would honestly rather Gilgamesh take risks and go on the offensive than stay home and torment him like this.
Because what kind of normal Servant spends the second day of a Holy Grail War doing absolutely nothing—calmly playing video games at his leisure?
"I am the strongest. That is beyond dispute."
Gilgamesh lounged on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other, eyes down as his fingers tapped the controls, speaking without even looking up.
"And in order to win the Holy Grail War, every challenger must first pass through my gate. There is no need to take the initiative. I only need to sit here and wait for the rabble to come and entertain me. I went out yesterday merely to greet the holy sword wielder and declare my existence."
"One appearance is sufficient. If I kept going out, wouldn't that tarnish my prestige? Let them come to me. This war contains a number of interesting specimens—some may even be worth my hand."
His crimson eyes narrowed slightly, voice amused.
"But in the end, the one who reaches me will still be that holy sword wielder."
"And if he is so unfortunate as to be eliminated by the trash outside…"
Gilgamesh's tone turned colder, indifferent.
"Then it hardly matters. A man who cannot even defeat the other Servants has no right to demand my full effort."
"Ah… even if that's true, shouldn't we still—"
Tokiomi was struggling to find the right words. Something felt wrong. He didn't understand the logic of "waiting for challengers," but surely it didn't mean waiting like this. At the very least, shouldn't they be gathering intelligence? Learning Noble Phantasms? Watching the other factions clash and harvesting information?
He was about to press the point—maybe ask Gilgamesh for advice—when Gilgamesh suddenly tossed the console aside and curled his lips into a knowing smile.
"Oh? So it begins at last… a challenge."
He lifted his gaze toward a direction beyond the window, speaking to himself.
"Hmph. Perhaps it's nothing more than the rabble tangling among themselves."
"What is it, King of Heroes?" Tokiomi asked at once.
As much as Gilgamesh's personality made him suffer, Tokiomi never doubted his perception.
"It's Lancer."
Gilgamesh's smile sharpened.
"He's openly issuing a challenge to Saber. Is he trying to end the war quickly by removing a rival at the earliest opportunity? How entertaining…"
"And it seems he's laid a rather decent trap for the holy sword wielder as well. Not entirely foolish."
"Lancer and Saber? Diarmuid and Arthur? They're fighting?"
Tokiomi's heart leapt. Two top-tier classes clashing meant a chance at mutual damage. It was the perfect opening—if they struck at the right time, they might harvest both of them in one sweep. Even if they failed to "reap," merely observing such a battle would reveal invaluable information.
"Excellent, my king—then we should go and—"
But when he turned—
Gilgamesh had already reclined again.
And resumed the next stage of the game.
"..."
In that moment, Tokiomi felt as though every emotion he'd had was simply wasted breath.
"Ho…"
At the same time, on a hill some distance from the Einzbern castle, Iskandar stood with one hand on his chin, staring toward the distant battlefield.
After escorting his Master, Irisviel, back into the castle, Saber had come out to meet the challenge—his holy sword drawn, his presence blazing—now locked in a fierce exchange with Diarmuid that only heroes from legend could sustain.
"Both are champions among champions," Iskandar praised without restraint. "Their skill is so evenly matched that it's impossible to call. Merely watching is a feast for the soul."
"Even from this far away, that killing intent is so sharp it feels as though I'm standing beside them."
Waver, however, couldn't share his enthusiasm. He looked to the side—at Kayneth, who was quietly and carefully observing the situation.
"Professor Kayneth… are we really just going to keep watching? Didn't you say we were going to strike their Master?"
Iskandar answered before Kayneth did.
"Easy, little Master. Waiting a bit longer won't hurt."
He grinned.
"The Holy Grail War isn't made of only us. Lancer is broadcasting his mana this loudly—any curious Servant who enjoys a spectacle will come to watch."
"We need to make sure we've drawn in most of the onlookers before we move. Isn't that right, Lemon-head?"
"Not bad, Rider," Kayneth replied. "You're correct… though not entirely."
"Oh?" Iskandar's eyes brightened. "Do tell."
"This battle has only just begun," Kayneth explained, voice measured. "Lancer hasn't yet forced Saber to commit fully. If we attack now, Saber may be able to disengage and return to defend his Master."
"My command to Lancer was simple: do not hide your strength. Fight with everything you have. Hold Saber in place—ideally, destroy him."
Kayneth's gaze remained fixed on the distant clash.
"But I also understand Lancer's temperament. What he truly wants is a fair duel—an honorable, straightforward contest against Arthur."
"So he will push as hard as he can to decide the outcome himself, and he will escalate the battle until Saber can no longer spare a single thought for anything else."
Iskandar's grin widened.
"So your plan is…"
"To keep increasing the pressure," Kayneth said. "Let the duel climb toward its peak. Make Arthur so utterly absorbed that he cannot afford even an instant of distraction."
"And then—at the critical moment—we strike the castle."
Kayneth spoke his scheme openly, without flinching.
"If we succeed, we capture Saber's Master and force his withdrawal. If we fail, even a fraction of a second of hesitation in a battle of that level is enough for Lancer to seize victory."
"Either way, Saber is eliminated."
"And a full-power clash between Lancer and Saber will draw the eyes of other Servants—those in the open and those in the shadows. That only increases the odds our plan succeeds."
Kayneth turned slightly, finishing the thought.
"After we remove Saber, you bring me back out and cover our retreat. If another faction tries to scavenge the aftermath, you can crush them."
"Correct?"
Iskandar clapped his hands and roared with laughter.
"Hahahaha! Well said, Lemon-head. With me here, no one gets to pick at the spoils."
He stared toward the battlefield, almost delighted.
"Your scheme is thorough—airtight, even. I can't help but applaud it."
Beside them, Waver felt a chill run down his spine.
The plan was terrifying. It squeezed Saber from every side—exploiting Lancer and Rider's advantages to the fullest, turning a heroic duel into a blade pressed to the throat.
If Waver were in Saber's position, he couldn't even imagine how he'd respond.
It was too sinister. Too ruthless. Too effective.
A noble hero might despise it or refuse it—yet other kinds of heroes would praise it as brilliant.
Iskandar was clearly the latter.
As a hero, he loved fair fights and honorable duels. But as a king, he understood the battlefield demanded everything—ambush, deception, brutality—because in the end, only victory wrote history.
And after last night's "introductions," after greetings were exchanged and names were bared, there was nothing wrong with beginning real bloodshed on the second night.
Because war did not care about etiquette.
Iskandar glanced at Waver—still stunned, his remaining naïveté shaken to the core—and spoke slowly.
"Watch closely, boy. What you saw last night was playacting."
"What you're witnessing now is… real war."
On Mount Enzō, clouds swallowed the moonlight.
After confirming that Ritsuka and Gilles de Rais had already departed, a figure appeared before the gate of Ryūdō Temple.
A man with blue hair, a cane in hand, eyes sunken and cold—his very presence steeped in damp malice.
"I've waited a long time for this," he rasped, his voice like rot. "With that excellent grandson of mine around, finding a chance to meet you alone isn't easy."
"I had to measure distance carefully… to avoid his detection."
At the top of the steps stood the familiar witch of the isle.
Morgan looked down at him with pure disgust—an expression that asked the same question without words:
Why are you here?
"You've got quite the look," the blue-haired man chuckled. "Don't glare at me like that, Witch of Britain. I'm not a worm at the moment."
"And besides—our transaction stands. We are not enemies."
Morgan's eyes narrowed.
"Then what should I call you—Matō Zōken? Makiri Zolgen? Or a Demon God Pillar?"
"Call me whatever you like," he replied lightly. "Barbatos, Zōken—those are all me."
"But for now… I prefer 'Makiri Zolgen.'"
His smile thinned.
"I didn't come to argue about my name. I came to ask: how goes the ritual you promised?"
"This is the fifth cycle already. According to you, the sixth will be the one that approaches completion. We're one step away. The timing is near."
"I haven't forgotten."
Morgan's voice was flat—yet the name that followed carried weight.
"It's something prepared for Ritsuka. Only by completing it can he finally break free from this cursed world, sever the chains of fate, and obtain true freedom."
She stared down at him, suspicion sharpening her disgust.
"You came just to confirm that? For your kind, isn't it enough that this Singularity continues to exist?"
"It is," Zolgen admitted. "No matter who wins, no matter how it ends, it means nothing to me. As long as the Singularity persists and obstructs humanity's restoration, that is sufficient."
"However… this Singularity's usefulness is nearing its limit."
He tapped his cane lightly against the ground.
"And I have been ordered elsewhere. I came only to confirm the state of things before I depart."
Then his tone shifted—almost conversational.
"Lev… Flauros."
Morgan's eyes darkened.
"He remains interested in Ritsuka. After all, that child was once his student in the days when he still wore a human face."
"If possible, he wishes to take Ritsuka when this Singularity ends—bring him into the new world we intend to build."
He didn't finish the sentence.
Because Morgan's response was a spell.
A blazing magic shot detonated where he stood, blowing a crater into the ground.
Zolgen reappeared a heartbeat later, having dodged by the narrowest margin.
"That was close," he observed calmly, looking up at her. "But you understand this as well: if your plan fails—if the sixth cycle does not complete—then everything ends."
"In that case, being taken by Flauros may well be the best outcome for the child."
Morgan said nothing for a beat—then answered with icy certainty.
"I will succeed."
"Good." Zolgen nodded. "Then we'll watch and see."
"By the way—this will be my last visit. After the fifth cycle, I return to the King's side."
"And so, before I leave, I intend to give Ritsuka an opportunity."
His voice turned oddly sincere.
"When I was not yet fully awakened, I made that boy suffer… more than once. But his resolve—his will—has moved even me."
"Each time I see his eyes, his soul… I begin to understand why Flauros values him so highly."
"So I will grant him a chance."
"A chance for revenge."
Zolgen's gaze was steady, deliberate.
"Before I depart, I will reveal myself and offer him a clean end to the grudges of this cycle."
"I will not use the power of a Demon God. I will face him only as Matō Zōken."
"Do not interfere, Witch."
Morgan's eyes narrowed—murder seeping through her calm.
"You mean to toy with him?"
"Not toying. Not a trial."
Zolgen's reply held no fear, no wavering—only conviction.
"Recognition."
"This is his revenge against fate."
"And it is the growth I wish to witness—his transformation."
"Your protection is not the only path forward. I would argue this is the true key to his future."
He lifted his cane again, tapped it once—
And his body dissolved into a swarm of insects that scattered into the darkness, vanishing without a trace.
Morgan remained on the steps, silent, watching the last of the swarm disappear.
Her eyes narrowed, unreadable—thoughts hidden behind a thin veil of stillness.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 90)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 95)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 80)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter70)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter70)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter50)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter60)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 30
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 30
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