The courtyard of Einzbern Castle had been temporarily arranged into a banquet venue with an antique style. Moonlight and the castle's magecraft lights intertwined, spilling onto a long table covered with a white tablecloth, set with exquisite silverware and tempting delicacies and fine wine, creating a peculiar contrast with the fortress's overall stern atmosphere.
Artoria Pendragon, Saber, was already seated in one of the main seats. She had removed her armor, changed into simple casual clothes, but her upright posture and solemn expression still radiated a kingly dignity. Yet, deep within her emerald eyes lay a trace of profound heaviness.
"Hahaha! Such moonlight, such fine wine! To be invited by the legendary king of knights truly lifts one's spirits!"
A hearty laugh like thunder approached from the distance. The Conqueror King Iskandar's massive figure appeared at the courtyard entrance. He still wore that T-shirt printed with a world map, looking completely at ease, as if this were not the enemy's stronghold but his own palace. With his brawny arm around the trembling, nearly shrinking Waver, he strode in with large steps.
Saber stood up, her etiquette impeccable. She raised her already-filled wine glass in a toast to the Conqueror King. "Welcome, Conqueror King Iskandar. Thank you for responding to this invitation." Her voice was steady, carrying a kingly dignity, and she then took a small sip from her glass.
"No need for formalities! Where there is wine and a feast, there are friends!" Iskandar laughed heartily, unceremoniously found a seat, poured himself a large glass of wine, drank it in one gulp, and let out a satisfied sigh. Waver cautiously sat down behind him, nervously observing everyone present.
At that moment, golden motes of light coalesced in the air without warning.
Gilgamesh, dressed in casual clothes yet still exuding unparalleled arrogance and nobility, appeared in the center of the courtyard as if he were the star of the stage. He didn't even glance at Iskandar; his crimson serpent-like eyes locked directly onto Saber, his gaze burning and full of possessiveness.
"For a mongrel's banquet, this King's presence is already an supreme honor," he spoke, his voice cold and haughty. "Woman, you should be well aware of the price required for this King to wield Ea for you. Submit to this King, offer everything you have—that is your only salvation."
Saber's brow furrowed, her fingers tightening slightly around her glass. Suppressing the disgust in her heart, she maintained her composure and met Gilgamesh's gaze. "Archer, I acknowledge your strength. But that man, Kanjuro, his power and methods are equally unfathomable, even surpassing conventional understanding in some aspects... I invited you based on the consideration of jointly confronting a threat. This is currently the most advantageous choice for both of us. Your assistance will earn my respect, not the'submission' you speak of."
Upon hearing the name "Kanjuro," an extremely fleeting shadow of something even he himself was reluctant to admit crossed Gilgamesh's arrogant face. He instantly recalled the scene from their last confrontation—that man could actually mimic, even temporarily replicate, the Noble Phantasms from his Gate of Babylon in a bizarre way! That power was definitely not explainable by ordinary magecraft or Noble Phantasms; it was an unpleasant 'anomaly' that touched upon the world's rules themselves. For the first time, it made his wildly arrogant heart feel a wariness toward a certain 'mongrel' that went beyond anger.
This wariness kept him from immediately lashing out. He merely snorted coldly and fell silent, tacitly accepting Saber's proposal of 'cooperation.' He casually summoned a golden goblet, filled it himself, walked aside, and began examining Saber and the Irisviel beside her with a gaze as if appraising collectibles.
Irisviel felt that gaze, her body stiffening slightly as she instinctively moved closer to Saber. She sat beside Saber, playing the role of the gentle and attentive hostess, refilling Saber's empty cup with wine, but her red eyes were lowered, concealing unspeakable pain and fear.
The nightmare of that night eight years ago had never truly faded.
Kanjuro had barged into her life like a demon, forcibly taking possession of her, leaving behind Illya, and completely altering the relationship between her and Emiya Kiritsugu—a relationship that had always been based on duty rather than emotion.
What tormented her heart even more was that it was precisely due to her 'negligence' and helplessness that Kanjuro had the opportunity to use that bizarre imitation created by the 'Gospel of Matthew' authority to swap out the true avalon scabbard.
If the scabbard hadn't been swapped, Saber's magical energy wouldn't have been continuously interfered with and potentially corrupted by that imitation. Her power might have been more complete, and her mind wouldn't have been imperceptibly eroded by that dark magical energy... All of this filled Irisviel with deep self-blame. She felt she had implicated Saber and tarnished the glory of the king of knights.
In the courtyard, the moonlight was cold and clear, the fragrance of wine permeated the air.
Three kings gathered, maintaining the etiquette of the banquet on the surface, but beneath it, each harbored their own thoughts—suspicion, desire, fear, and heavy responsibility intertwined into an invisible web.
The alliance seemed to be formed, but its foundation was as fragile as a spider's web.
And everyone knew full well that the terrifying existence they were attempting to unite against—the shadow looming over Fuyuki City, Kanjuro—was perhaps watching this 'feast' prepared for him from some dark corner, with mocking eyes.
In the courtyard, the fragile alliance led by Saber had just reached a preliminary verbal consensus. The heavy atmosphere eased slightly. Fine wine swirled in the cups, reflecting the differing thoughts of the three kings.
"Kanjuro's strength is unfathomable," Saber emphasized again, her emerald eyes sweeping over Gilgamesh and Iskandar. "No matter our ideological conflicts or personal grudges, it is wise to first confront him and eliminate this greatest threat before settling the Holy Grail War among ourselves."
Conqueror King Iskandar downed the wine in his cup in one gulp, slapped the table with his large hand, and let out a hearty laugh: "Hahaha! No problem! King Arthur, for your clarity and bearing alone, this king agrees with you! We'll deal with that troublesome fellow first!"
Gilgamesh merely glanced sideways at Saber with his crimson serpentine eyes, his tone still carrying an air of condescending arrogance: "Hmph, this king is merely indulging in this game with you all for the moment, since you, woman, have managed to pique my interest somewhat. As for that ignorant mongrel..." The corner of his mouth curled into a cold arc. "This king has never considered him worthy of my attention."
Hearing this, Saber felt slightly reassured and let out a long sigh of relief. She was just about to say, 'That's for the best. Let's deal with the most formidable opponent first; everything else can be set aside...'
Before the trailing sound of the word 'aside' could fully fade—
An indescribable, icy, and viscous aura of terror, like an invisible tide, instantly flooded the entire courtyard!
The moonlight seemed to dim at that moment; the magical energy in the air became chaotic and agitated. Everyone felt a chill shoot up their spines—a sharp alarm from their life instincts facing a higher-level predator!
From the shadows at the courtyard entrance, two figures slowly materialized.
The one at the forefront wore a well-tailored black trench coat, his figure tall and straight. His exceptionally handsome face bore a faint, bewitching smile, yet his deep eyes seemed to contain an unmelting melancholy and... boundless void. Merely standing there, he became the center of the entire space, as if all light and sound were collapsing toward him.
It was Kanjuro.
Following half a step behind him was Jeanne, cradling a holy sword burning with dark red flames. Her silver armor was pristine, but her face was as cold as frost, her eyes downcast as if indifferent to everything before her, or perhaps suppressing some surging emotion.
Their appearance was so abrupt, yet so fitting, as if they were the most honored (or most terrifying) guests predetermined for this 'Banquet of Three Kings.'
"Mongrel—!!!"
Gilgamesh was the quickest to react! His hatred and wariness of Kanjuro exploded to the extreme the moment he saw the man himself! Without even a single word of preamble, dazzling golden ripples instantly spread open behind him. Five or six Noble Phantasms of various designs, each brimming with terrifying magical energy, shot forth like a torrent of guided light, tearing through the air with a shriek that promised utter destruction, heading straight for Kanjuro! The speed was extreme, the power enough to level a small hill in an instant!
This sudden, lethal assault made both Saber and Iskandar's pupils contract sharply!
Yet, faced with this barrage of Noble Phantasms that would make any Servant brace themselves, Kanjuro didn't even pause his steps.
He simply casually raised his right hand.
In that instant, the shadows behind him seemed to come alive. Countless slimy, pitch-black, twisted tentacles materialized out of thin air! They were not physical entities but were formed from the purest dark magical energy and some indescribable rule, like living venomous snakes, accurately intercepting those golden Noble Phantasms!
There was no earth-shattering explosion, only an ear-piercing, grating noise like metal being forcibly twisted and torn!
Under everyone's incredulous gazes, those immensely powerful Noble Phantasms, upon contact with the black tentacles, seemed to sink into an invisible quagmire. Their light rapidly dimmed, their forward momentum easily dissipated and deflected. In the end, like discarded toys, they were casually flung aside and knocked away by the tentacles, clattering to the ground before dissolving into pure particles of magical energy.
And Kanjuro remained standing in place, not a single fold of his trench coat out of place. He didn't even glance at the scattered Noble Phantasms. His calm gaze swept over the tense group in the courtyard, finally settling on Gilgamesh, whose face had turned ashen. The bewitching smile at the corner of his mouth seemed to deepen slightly.
"This...?!" For the first time, Gilgamesh's handsome face twisted violently—an expression of extreme rage interwoven with a forcibly suppressed, incredulous shock. His proud 'Gate of Babylon' had been so effortlessly... neutralized?
Even the ever-bold Conqueror King Iskandar paused his wine cup mid-air. His bushy eyebrows furrowed tightly, and for the first time, his battle-hardened eyes revealed unprecedented gravity and even... a hint of horror. What he sensed was not just the sheer power of Kanjuro, but that pure darkness and profound depth emanating from the very soul, seemingly capable of devouring all light. Merely looking at Kanjuro made him feel as if he had instantly plunged into a bottomless abyss of hell. A long-forgotten emotion named 'fear' quietly crept into the heart of this Conqueror King.
With just one casual gesture, Kanjuro had made the two arrogant 'kings' truly feel what it meant to face... a despair-inducing gap.
The entire courtyard fell deathly silent.
Only Kanjuro's calm, seemingly echoing footsteps clearly hammered against everyone's hearts. Alright, this is the scene where Kanjuro continues to dominate with words and posture, turning the 'Banquet of Three Kings' into his personal stage:
Kanjuro's elegant yet bone-chilling words, like a stone thrown into still water, shattered the silence that had solidified upon his arrival in the courtyard.
"What? Three 'kings' drinking and forming an alliance here, such a grand event, and you didn't even send word to me? That's rather standoffish." The trademark bewitching smile played on his lips, but his gaze was like an icy probe, sweeping over everyone present.
Saber clenched her fist hidden beneath the table, forcing herself to remain calm, and demanded sharply, "Kanjuro! How did you know we were here?!" She absolutely refused to believe this was a coincidence.
Kanjuro shrugged, the movement carrying a careless laziness. His gaze passed over Saber and landed on Irisviel, whose face instantly turned deathly pale. His eyes instantly became 'gentle' in a way that was utterly chilling.
"For that, we must thank our beautiful hostess, mustn't we, Iri?" His voice was soft, like a lover's whisper, yet laced with a deadly sting. "It's been... a long time since we last met. Was it because your heart yearned for me, that you deliberately tipped me off?"
"No! That's not true! I didn't!!" Irisviel shot up like a startled rabbit, her voice trembling with fear and indignation. She looked toward Saber for help, her red eyes brimming with tears.
"Iri is not that kind of person!" Saber cut in decisively. She stepped protectively in front of Irisviel like a lioness guarding her cub, glaring at Kanjuro. "Kanjuro, stop your despicable attempts to sow discord!"
Watching Saber's staunchly protective stance, Kanjuro not only didn't get angry but seemed to find it amusing, as if he had seen something interesting. He let out a soft sigh, his tone tinged with regret. "How boring. Saber, you are far more... tedious than I imagined." He seemed to lose interest in further teasing and walked over to an ornate, empty chair, sitting down leisurely as if he were the master of this place.
His gaze then turned to the Conqueror King, who had been watching him intently. Iskandar's wine cup hung in mid-air. His sharp eyes, accustomed to battlefields and death, narrowed slightly, not hiding the scrutiny and unprecedented gravity within them.
"This king has killed countless men in his lifetime, his iron hooves trampling across thousands of miles of territory. I thought I had seen all the heroes and villains this world has to offer," the Conqueror King's voice was low and measured, each word carrying immense weight. "Yet I have never encountered an existence like you... Your aura is neither human nor demon; it's as if you are the embodiment of the very concept of 'evil.' Now, this king finally understands why the noble king of knights would go so far as to unite with us, viewing you as a great evil that must be eradicated."
On the other side, Gilgamesh downed the crimson wine in his cup as if drinking not fine wine but the blood of an enemy. He stared fixedly at Kanjuro, words like curses squeezed from between his teeth: "Mongrel... This king will definitely make you... die in the most painful way... a wretched death!"
Faced with the direct hostility and killing intent from the two 'kings,' Kanjuro merely shook his head inwardly, as if lamenting their overestimation of themselves. He didn't even respond. Instead, he casually picked up a clean wine glass from the table, filled it with amber-colored wine, and then performed an action that once again stunned everyone—
He naturally handed the glass to Jeanne, who had been silent beside him.
Jeanne expressionlessly accepted it. Under the incredulous gazes of the three kings (especially Saber, who knew her true name), she tilted her head back slightly and took a small sip. Then, her clear, cold voice rang out, like an ice spike striking the still surface of a lake, carrying an aloofness that looked down upon all beings after her fall:
"It's merely a gathering of self-proclaimed monarchs, lower lifeforms who are intoxicated with past glories, engaging in meaningless congregation."
"Lower lifeforms?!"
These words exploded like thunder in the courtyard!
Saber's emerald eyes were filled with shock and a sense of profaned anger. For the first time, Iskandar's bold face showed clear astonishment and displeasure. As for Gilgamesh, he was so enraged that golden ripples surged wildly around him, almost launching a second attack immediately! They, the king of heroes, the Conqueror King, the king of knights—heroes recorded in history—had they ever been subjected to such blatant insult from a (former) saint?!
"Ha! Hahahaha!" Kanjuro, however, as if hearing the most delightful joke in the world, couldn't suppress his laughter, which was filled with delight and appreciation. He reached out, pulling Jeanne's cold, delicate body into his embrace. Disregarding the gazes of everyone present, with an almost perverse intimacy, he gently licked her smooth cheek, leaving a wet mark.
"As expected of my Jeanne... I truly did not misjudge you." His voice carried a satisfied sigh.
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