Waver was in a particularly foul mood. The strong opponents in this Holy Grail War were honestly far too many—first the Archer who threw his Noble Phantasms around like cheap projectiles, then the Ruler whose mana seemed limitless, and on top of that a Berserker of unknown identity who could apparently pull Noble Phantasms out of thin air.
Yesterday he had genuinely been thinking about an alliance. He didn't really care about the Holy Grail itself, but he didn't want Kayneth—that condescending professor of his—to see him losing in some humiliating fashion after having stolen the Catalyst.
The result had been getting his nose rubbed in it. He certainly wasn't going to crawl to his teacher; Saber refused to gang up two-on-one against Ymi out of some misplaced sense of fairness; and Archer was a special kind of insanely arrogant. His own Rider, naturally, refused to ally on terms that would put him beneath anyone.
Today, he had finally come out for some long-overdue fresh air, planning to pick up a historical text or two on Alexander the Great while he was at it—only to suffer an attack from a rotten kid.
"S-sorry, it was my fault." The red-haired boy hurriedly bowed his head and apologized.
"You little—" Waver had a stomach full of foreign curses ready to unload, but at that moment he noticed the small girl tucked behind the red-haired boy: pure, untouched, innocent and adorable.
Looking at this absolutely precious little loli, Waver had a sudden epiphany. As an adult, he shouldn't be petty with a child. He instantly felt his soul cleansed, and he believed she certainly hadn't done it on purpose.
His narrow disposition opened wide; the anger on his face shifted to gentle indulgence.
"Oh, isn't it Ruler? Berserker was the one who got taken out yesterday, wasn't he?" The King of Conquerors yanked Waver to one side and waved at Ymi.
"He's... talking to you?" The boy turned to Ymi.
"You idiot, don't go saying hello like that in front of civilians!" Waver tried to stop him and was promptly hauled aside again.
The King of Conquerors could go into spirit form normally—he just didn't want to. He had even bought himself a contemporary T-shirt for the occasion, with the words Admirable Great Tactics printed across the front.
"What a coincidence. Are you free tonight? How about you, me, and Saber—we get together?"
"Get together for what?" The kitten craned her head up at the giant of a man she least wanted to see.
The red-haired boy stepped in front of Ymi a little, lowering his voice. "He looks really suspicious. He's not a kidnapper, is he? I heard a lot of children have gone missing recently."
What kind of grown man would say "are you free" and "let's get together" to a kid?
"That little redheaded shrimp—I keep getting the feeling you're whispering something annoying back there." The King of Conquerors crossed his arms and ignored the boy's existence entirely. "The fact is, having three kings show up in one Holy Grail War would be a real waste if all we did was fight. Why not sit down and talk it out—who's most worthy of the Grail and so on."
Because Waver had wanted an alliance, Iskandar had already learned Saber's true identity at the time Ymi went after Lancelot. He turned to Ymi. "Even though you're not a king, little girl, the fact that the Ruler—whose true nature is one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse—would have her own designs on the Grail... I'd really like to hear what you have to say about that."
The cat got it. "You three want to gather together."
"That's right. So, what do you say?"
"I'll go take all of you out." Ymi raised a paw, expressing herself with absolute directness.
The King of Conquerors stroked his beard, troubled. "Don't say things that ruin the mood on such a rare day off. If you come, I might bring along some cake that little girls like."
He didn't know much about the modern day, but in his era—or any earlier one—children had always loved sweet things.
"Then I won't beat you up yet." Ymi lowered her paw.
The King of Conquerors laughed heartily. "Then it's settled. I'll be at Saber's place tonight, waiting for you."
"You moron, what are you broadcasting in front of a crowd of strangers?!"
The two of them left.
The red-haired boy who had been spectating the whole exchange looked like a small universe was being born inside his head.
What was that adult babbling on about? He really was a kidnapper—using all the things kids liked to lure them away!
————————
"A banquet?"
"Mhm. Cake, cake, cake..." That distinctive child-noise, faintly exasperating.
"As expected, no matter what changes, that one thing never does. That king is the kind of personality where if he thinks of something, it absolutely has to be done." Lord El-Melloi's voice came through with audible exasperation.
"Professor Kongming, are you talking about the Servant of that thief? Hello? Professor Kongming, can you hear me?"
That cursed signal.
If the kid wanted to go, just take her, Ritsuka decided. Free cake's free cake.
"What about Berserker? Coming with us?" Ritsuka had spotted the conflict on Lancelot's face.
"Of course. The chance to see her again—how could I possibly refuse?"
"Then let's go."
Compared to the other two factions' bases, the Einzbern residence really did qualify as remote, the manor itself hemmed in by a vast stretch of forest.
For all his confident declarations during the day, Saber had actually been the last to find out that the other side intended to host a banquet at her own home.
She could understand the urge—they were all renowned kings, and the desire to talk things over with kings of other eras and other lands was reasonable enough.
But...
"What is that, King of Conquerors?" Saber pointed at the pink, cartoon-printed box he was carrying. Whether it was because he'd ridden in too fast and dropped some electronic device inside, the box was currently playing what sounded like a local children's song.
Iskandar scratched his head. "I asked the baker if she had a big cake that little girls would like, and she recommended this. What's the thing inside that's singing? Strange food."
"'Little girls'? That's an insult I cannot let pass, King of Conquerors." Invisible Air materialized in Saber's hand, pointed straight at his nose.
Iskandar didn't show the slightest sign of anger. "You really are inexplicably touchy, King of Knights. Don't worry, this isn't for you. It's just bait to lure Ruler over."
"Ruler is coming?" Irisviel's eyes lit up.
"She agreed during the day, yes. Though given her personality, even with the legends I have to draw on, I can't say for sure. If she doesn't show, there's nothing I can do."
"He literally lured her in with the kidnapper's playbook..." Waver muttered, and was promptly flicked on the head by Iskandar.
As if on cue, Irisviel sensed something brushing against the Bounded Field nearby—then came the sound of hoofbeats.
Mixed with the sound of a motorcycle engine?
A motorcycle in the woods?
"Oh, here they come, here they come." The King of Conquerors spread his arms wide to greet them. The first thing he saw, however, wasn't the tender face of a little girl—it was a somewhat unfamiliar suit of armor.
Saber's pupils contracted. She recognized it at a glance.
She knew that armor far too well.
"Sir Lancelot, why are you—"
"My king." Lancelot dismounted from the motorcycle he'd Noble-Phantasm-converted (definitely not one Ritsuka had provided) and dropped to one knee in shame.
Then he felt the small girl behind him pat his head, voicing her displeasure: "How can you be asking for forgiveness already? You haven't even fought yet."
What a disgrace. The cat looks down on you.