"My apologies, Ruler. As you can see, my soldiers are locked in fierce battle with the enemy below.
Unless you have some other business with me, would you refrain from interfering?"
Semiramis, the "Red" Assassin, faced Ruler after her entry into the Hanging Gardens.
"Of course I have business with you."
Jeanne frowned as she studied the woman before her.
Half of Assassin's pitch-black gown had already blended into the night, while her skin was so pale it felt almost unnatural.
Semiramis's appearance reminded Jeanne of a witch from a storybook.
Could she be the mastermind? No, it was still too early to say.
"I suspect that you have violated the rules of this Holy Grail War."
"Suspect?"
The Queen of Assyria sneered. "Did your god tell you that through a 'revelation,' Holy Maiden?"
"..."
Jeanne's brow twitched slightly. She steadied herself and said,
"If you have nothing weighing on your conscience, and you believe you have fully obeyed the rules of the Holy Grail War, then let me meet your Master."
The mockery in the "Red" Assassin's eyes instantly turned into wariness.
Watching her reaction, Ruler became even more certain that her intuition had not been wrong.
"…Unfortunately, my Master is very busy.
Besides, he is timid by nature and does not wish to meet other Servants. That includes Ruler."
"I am not asking for your consent."
The moment Jeanne said that, Semiramis entered a battle-ready state.
As if suppressing her opponent, Ruler pointed her banner at her and said,
"Assassin of 'Red,' you should know that resisting is pointless.
The pillar of light fired from the Hanging Gardens was Magecraft you used, wasn't it? In that case."
"Yes, my Magecraft cannot pierce your Magic Resistance."
In the Holy Grail War, Jeanne was the natural enemy of all Magecraft-based Servants.
Her "Magic Resistance" rank even surpassed the Saber Class, known for having the strongest "Magic Resistance," reaching the astonishing level of "Undetectable (EX)."
"I have many other privileges as well… Assassin of 'Red,' please do not force me to use this one."
As she spoke, Ruler's entire body gave off a faint, sacred glow, and the "Red" Assassin's expression tightened.
"The greatest privilege of a judge, Command Spells that can be used on every Servant."
That was the greatest reason Ruler served as the arbiter.
The judge held two Command Spells for each Servant.
In the case of this Great Holy Grail War, that meant twenty-eight in total, now appearing like stigmata across the girl's back.
If she ordered a Servant to harm themselves, most Servants would be finished on the spot unless their Master used a Command Spell to counter hers.
Semiramis's elegant brows furrowed slightly.
"I advise you not to do it. Even if you use up every Command Spell you have, I have no intention of betraying my Master.
And should you use them all, my Master will stop you as well."
"…So your Master isn't a puppet under your control."
Semiramis smiled meaningfully. "Of course not.
Whatever I may have been in life, I am now a Servant loyal to my Master."
It doesn't feel like she's lying…
Ruler frowned slightly, then took one step forward and declared,
"In that case, you are my enemy."
Assassin was inwardly startled.
There was no way her plan with Father Kotomine had been exposed.
In other words, Ruler had come to confront them purely on instinct.
Was it really necessary to go this far based on nothing but that absurd "revelation"?
This woman is abnormal…!
Semiramis's face showed a trace of tension.
In this Holy Grail War, she feared no Servant… but Ruler was the exception.
As a Servant possessing both the Assassin and Caster Classes, Semiramis found both her personal combat ability and Magecraft Noble Phantasms perfectly countered by her opponent.
Ruler could probably defeat her immediately without even using a Command Spell.
She had to buy time until something changed below.
"Speaking of which…"
"Please do not change the subject, Assassin of 'Red'!"
How sharp. Hmph…
With an alluring expression, Semiramis asked, "What is your relationship with the 'Black' Saber?"
"I said… huh?" Jeanne blinked.
"Wh-what relationship?"
"Why did you appear on that man's Noble Phantasm?"
Semiramis pressed her aggressively. "Don't tell me Saber has already won you over.
Did he send you here to cause trouble for us?
Mm… My conversation with him that day did end rather unpleasantly. So he thought to use you to get back at me."
"That is not what happened!"
Jeanne refuted her sharply.
"There is nothing shameful between Saber and me. More importantly…
Saber is not the kind of shameless man you are making him out to be!"
"That's the part you care about? Ruler… are you not being a little too partial toward Saber?"
"Am… am I?"
Jeanne tilted her head and thought it over, but she did not feel that was the case.
She had not given Artorius any advantageous information. Whenever the subject of the Holy Grail War came up at the inn, the two of them tacitly avoided it.
Jeanne had not done anything for him either… unless washing the dishes after meals counted.
Watching the blonde girl seriously ponder the matter, Semiramis could not help sighing.
Even if she was praised as the "Holy Maiden who saved her nation," in the end, she was just a dense nineteen-year-old girl who had never been in love…
The Queen of Assyria, who was well versed in manipulating people's hearts, saw the Holy Maiden's problem at a glance.
There was no real need to point it out directly, but.
Semiramis said lightly, "Ruler, could it be that you have developed special feelings for Saber?"
"?"
Jeanne was filled with question marks.
Artorius was the savior she had admired since childhood.
The king who defended his homeland and fought against invaders, the wielder of the Holy Sword who saved the world.
To Jeanne, he was the pillar of strength, the light, during the darkest years of her life.
There could not possibly be another hero who held such a place in Jeanne's heart.
Even so, she would never bring personal feelings into her duties…
If Artorius did something wrong, Jeanne would not hesitate to punch him in the head.
What on earth was Assassin trying to say?
Seeing the faint mockery in Assassin's expression, Ruler suddenly seemed to realize something.
I… I've fallen for Artorius?
...
...
"You've really taken good care of my kid, haven't you, Lancer…"
Shirou picked up the fallen "Magic Sword Clarent" and stepped between Lancer and Mordred.
"Come. Choose a stake to hang your corpse from, Vampire."
"————Crack."
The instant Shirou spoke the word "Vampire," the temperature of the surrounding air changed sharply, and a strange static-like sound rang out.
"...What did you just say?"
Lancer's expression, mounted atop his horse, had not changed at all from the beginning.
But the emotion contained in his eyes burned hotter than any flame.
"Answer me truthfully… What did you just call me…!?"
His eyes were bloodshot to an almost exaggerated degree, and veins bulged across his face.
Lancer's voice was filled with absolute rage, as if he were desperately suppressing an agitation he could not contain, his teeth grinding audibly.
Facing that murderous glare, Shirou spoke with a composed expression.
"Hmm, so you don't like being called that?
I think being remembered after death as a monster is rather impressive.
It seems we are fundamentally incompatible… Well, please forgive my shallow offense.
The 'Black' Lancer, Count Dracula."
In the next instant, the rage vanished completely from Lancer's face.
After judging that his opponent was merely trying to shake him, the king regained his usual calm and dignity.
"Die."
Countless wooden stakes surged up from the ground around Shirou, enough to block out his vision, and poured toward the red-haired boy like a storm.
"You want to compete with me in firepower? It's been a while…"
Shirou remained unmoved. Behind him, a vast army of swords appeared, covering the sky, and shot forward as space twisted.
In terms of sheer number, Lancer undoubtedly held an overwhelming advantage.
With his home territory advantage and the Homunculi supplying him Mana, he could project up to twenty thousand stakes at once in this Holy Grail War.
By contrast, the number of swords Shirou could project at once.
Even with the support of the "Heart of Albion," two or three hundred was roughly his limit.
But there was a fundamental difference between the two.
Every sword Shirou projected was a masterpiece worthy of being called a Noble Phantasm.
On top of that came the extraordinary projection speed he had honed through thousands of years of battle.
Shirou's sword formation easily shot down the great number of stakes unleashed by Vlad III.
"What?"
A faint flicker crossed Lancer's expression.
This was the first opponent he had ever faced whom he could not suppress.
During the preliminary skirmish of the Holy Grail War, the Mage's Association had sent fifty elite Magi. Lancer had killed forty-nine of them in an instant, then gravely wounded the last one and deliberately let him escape.
The violence of overwhelming numbers was what Vlad III prided himself on most.
Now, slight as it was, that confidence had truly been shaken.
"…Hmph."
No matter.
Vlad III still held two enormous advantages.
The first was the fame bonus granted by his homeland.
Here in Romania, and especially in the Transylvania region, his fame was of the highest class.
Although the increase in power brought by fame was not especially large, this land held faith in Vlad III.
At the same time, Vlad III himself was the kind of Servant most capable of making full use of that fame bonus.
"Guardian of the Nation," a skill that allowed him to treat a specific area as "his own territory."
When fighting within that territory, Lancer, as a king, received a parameter bonus equivalent to "Mad Enhancement A."
On top of that, there was the Mana supplied by the Yggdmillennia clan.
Hundreds of artificial lifeforms continuously supplied Vlad III with Mana, allowing him to unleash infinite "piercing" at will.
There was no problem.
Even if his opponent was that legendary "Holy Sword User."
That was right. Vlad III had realized the red-haired boy's True Name earlier than anyone else.
The Grand Prince of Wallachia, a devout believer, had understood.
The Heroic Spirit who had taken the "Black" Saber seat was none other than the saint the Church had sung of for a thousand years.
The "Savior" who had raised the Holy Grail.
…It was simply too shocking.
He had expected to encounter top-class Servants with tremendous fame in a seven-on-seven Great Holy Grail War.
But he had never imagined he would meet that strongest King of Knights, the one said to be absolutely impossible to summon into the world.
In terms of a Heroic Spirit's rank, there was likely no Heroic Spirit who could stand equal to this ever-victorious king of the Age of Gods.
In some legends, he had even led the Knights of the Round Table to subjugate the "Grand Dragon" and devour its heart.
From that perspective, he could be considered the source of Siegfried, the dragon-slaying hero of Germanic legend.
And so, the dragon slayer being defeated by his own original and having the "Black" Saber seat taken from him was truly an ironic turn of events.
His opponent possessed the strongest heart on the planet, commanded infinite swords including Excalibur, and was the strongest Saber, a being one could fairly call the planet's defense mechanism.
Even so... Even so, Vlad III should still have had some advantage.
The Greater Grail limited the upper ceiling of a Servant's abilities.
Anyone who wished to take part in the game had to obey the rules of the game. Not even the "Savior" was an exception.
No matter how powerful or irregular a Heroic Spirit he was, he could not overcome Vlad III, who ruled a nation and had turned the very land beneath his feet into a source of power.
Lancer released "Kazikli Bey" once more.
The "Black" Saber remained unhurried, projecting two hundred swords to oppose the twenty thousand stakes.
The ultra-high-speed barrage shattered the stakes before they could even approach Shirou.
The battle reached a stalemate.
Shattered blades and stakes flew in every direction, and flames seethed together with the earth.
If Vlad III's stakes were a flood, then Shirou's swords were a storm.
One side wielded absolute numbers. The other wielded godlike speed and destruction.
The two fierce powers collided, crushing everything around them again and again, reducing all things to dust in the end.
At that moment, Lancer suddenly understood something.
The red-haired boy in black before him, the one opposing him now, was not standing there as a king.
He was a monster, a legend, a natural disaster, the European horror story Vlad III had known since childhood.
The immortal king who ravaged the earth and stirred up storms, the "Wild Hunt."
So that was how it was…
In certain fabricated stories, the true identity of the "Wild Hunt" was King Arthur, wandering the earth.
The King of Britannia had not gone to the distant fairyland with the witch as the legends claimed, but had instead become the pitch-black King of Storms.
At that thought, Lancer, bathed in the fierce atmosphere of battle, actually lifted the corners of his mouth.
It seemed the only thing he shared with the "Black" Saber was not simply that they were both world-famous devoted husbands.
You too were slandered by fools after your death.
Feeling a sense of kinship, Vlad III felt genuine admiration well up from the bottom of his heart.
"You truly are worthy of that legendary king's reputation, to stand against my kingdom alone to such an extent.
It is no wonder the world sees you as a symbol of terror. To your enemies, you must be the most terrifying legend of all."
"Thanks. You're not bad yourself."
Shirou spoke calmly as he continued to intercept the attacks.
"That's what I've been saying. Don't worry so much about what other people think. Lancer, you care far too much about how the world sees you."
"What?"
In an instant, the "Black" Lancer's eyes blazed with fire.
Vlad III's reason for answering the Holy Grail's summons, his wish, was to restore his reputation.
As a devout believer and a patriot, he wanted to wash away the stigma of "Vampire Dracula" that had spread across the world.
Vlad III had no intention of denying the path he had walked.
But his name had been disgraced by something completely unrelated to him, and that was something he could never accept.
Among all the Servants, Lancer's resolve in staking everything on this Holy Grail War was surely among the strongest. Darnic also appreciated that obsession of his.
Shirou felt Lancer's fury, yet still spoke with casual ease.
"To you, those stakes are an attack, a defense, a show of force, and a source of fear.
Your ideal form is to become the nation itself, all on your own, to the point where you don't even need subordinates.
I do agree that a king should stand alone, but you went too far. That's probably why later generations came to see you as a monster."
"!"
Vlad III clenched his teeth.
Of course he understood the implication behind the red-haired boy's words.
The two of them were the two extremes of kingship.
One was a king who made himself the guardian of the nation.
The other was a king who led the strongest legion of superhumans in history, the Knights of the Round Table.
Long ago, when Vlad III read that part of the legend in a book, he had wondered.
If King Arthur was the strongest being, why recruit people weaker than himself?
Doing so would only dilute his own purity.
After clashing with him head-on, Lancer seemed to have found part of the answer.
Vlad III continued unleashing stakes.
Their firepower remained evenly matched, but he was certain that if this continued, he would be the one to win.
Very well. I shall overwhelm and deny your kingship with my own.
"Mm, that's enough of a warm-up."
"You said… a warm-up?"
The "Black" Lancer smiled. It was an unbearably grim smile, filled with rage, fervor, hatred, and killing intent.
"As expected of the strongest king, you truly are arrogant.
I have already punished your arrogance three times, and yet you know nothing of it.
That's right… my stakes have grazed your body. In other words, the conditions have already been met."
In the previous battle, "Kazikli Bey" had detonated from within Mordred and defeated her.
Now, Vlad III intended to repeat the same victory.
Although the tip of his spear had not touched Shirou, the stakes themselves could still carve a Curse into him. Even fragments left after the stakes were shattered could do it.
In that dense exchange of fire, the "Black" Saber had only been grazed by fragments three times.
If that was not a coincidence brought about by "Luck," then it was truly astonishing.
But that tiny flaw was already enough to decide the battle.
The "Black" Lancer used the same trick again, detonating stakes from within his enemy's body.
"Father!!"
Mordred shouted in panic.
Having personally experienced her heart being pierced, she knew all too well how terrifying that Noble Phantasm was.
Even Father…
No, Father was the strongest, of course. Invincible. But…
Yet in that critical instant, as the two sides of the girl's mind warred with each other, the atmosphere around Shirou changed.
"I am the bone of my sword."
He whispered softly.
As if it were only natural, he completed a grand Magecraft in a single one count.
The world beneath the night sky was overwritten.
The earth was wrapped in a boundary of flame.
In an instant, the late-night plain was transformed, and everything around them crumbled like a scribbled drawing.
With tremendous speed, this world was replaced by another.
The plain that had been swept by cold night wind only moments ago had become a sweltering foundry.
Flames surged, and enormous gears turned in the sky.
Across the boundless wasteland, ownerless swords stood in endless rows, stretching all the way to the horizon.
These swords, these deadly weapons connected to the earth, were all famed blades.
Countless weapons had been abandoned in this infinitely vast foundry.
And at the very center of this ruined kingdom stood the "Nameless King," proud and unmoving.
"This is…"
Lancer's expression froze in shock.
"Kazikli Bey" had not activated. Why?
Why had my stake not pierced his heart?
More than that, what is this abnormality I am feeling now…?
"A Reality Marble."
Shirou explained expressionlessly.
"A Great Forbidden Spell that materializes one's inner world and erodes reality… It is one of the Noble Phantasms I possess.
Its name is 'Unlimited Blade Works.'
This Reality Marble is a domain under my control. It does not fall within the scope of your territory.
In other words, as long as you are inside this bounded field, you are no longer the 'Defender of the State.'"
That was the true reason Vlad III felt his physical abilities sharply decline.
The earth he now stood upon was no longer the Romanian land where Vlad III was revered as a hero, so his fame had fallen to almost nothing.
Once outside Romania, Vlad III was nothing more than a bloodthirsty vampire.
By contrast, the "Black" Saber's fame stood at the very pinnacle of the world, the Nameless King praised for a thousand years.
Of course, even without taking fame into account, the difference between their strength in life was enormous.
The "Black" Lancer could still produce stakes smoothly, but the force and cunning behind them were no longer as sharp as before.
Shirou no longer even needed to project swords. By simply swinging the "Magic Sword Clarent" in his hand, he cut down every stake.
"Tch…!"
The "Black" Lancer attacked while violently leaping backward.
But after losing his land-based bonus, his parameters were far below Shirou's, and Shirou closed the distance with ease.
"Why have you stopped firing swords!?"
Vlad III had long since lost his initial elegance, and he roared the question in fury.
Could it be that this Reality Marble had some restriction that prevented him from projecting swords anymore?
"Huh? As if that could happen… You've got it wrong."
There was, of course, only one reason Shirou was doing this.
The silver sword that symbolized Britannia's royal authority suddenly erupted with a torrent of crimson Mana.
Shirou released the silver magic sword's true form, pouring all his power and fury into a strike against the "Black" Lancer.
Feel my anger with your own body…
You dared lay a hand on my kid. I won't let you get away with that…!!
"[Indulgence for My Unworthy Son (Clarent Blood Mordred)]!!!"
Crimson lightning swallowed everything.