The echo of the declaration reverberated through more than half of Fuyuki City on the vibrations of mana.
What any modern magus could only achieve with a magecraft device, this was accomplished with a trifling little cantrip from the one making the declaration. It was a display of power. An arrogance born of genuine confidence in that power. A single Heroic Spirit Servant simultaneously declaring war on six others was, to many cautious magi, nothing short of suicidal arrogance.
But after the one making the declaration spoke her own name, those magi exhaled in understanding.
The Age of Gods magus Medea. In the Fourth Holy Grail War, the undisputed killing machine among Heroic Servant Servants.
If it was that existence rumored to stand at the pinnacle of the Age of Gods, then a statement like this was not entirely incomprehensible. She genuinely had the capability to back it up.
After all, the Church had spent years inflating her reputation to extraordinary heights. There had actually been two other combatants in the Fourth Holy Grail War who stood at the same T0 tier as the Age of Gods magus Medea, but she had been talked up into some entirely new category all on her own. The Three Founding Families at least had their own records to refer to for rational assessment. But for outside magi, the Church's word was effectively gospel. You didn't have to believe every word of it, but believing seventy or eighty percent of it was perfectly reasonable.
This created a peculiar situation.
The Three Founding Families knew Medea was powerful, but not powerful enough to simultaneously contend with all six Heroic Servant Servants.
The Clock Tower and outside magi knew Medea was powerful, and naturally concluded she could slaughter all six Heroic Servants.
Medea herself believed she was powerful, and reasoning from the intelligence her Master had provided, concluded she was probably the highest-spec combatant in the Holy Grail War. Having consumed this many resources and equipment, taking out six second or third-rate Servants should be trivially easy, right?
Miss Illya and Kotomine Kirei, upon hearing that declaration, both paused momentarily.
Could it be that the Age of Gods magus Medea was actually that strong?
Otherwise it was difficult to explain how, while the two of them were in the middle of a Noble Phantasm head-on collision, someone else still had the nerve to declare war this brazenly.
"The decisive battle is set for three days hence at midnight. The new district villa area on the outskirts of Fuyuki City."
"In the name of Caster, in the name of the Age of Gods magus: if you still possess the pride of a magus and a Heroic Spirit Servant, come and settle this fight to the death with me. I will make you suffer. In the most despairing manner, I will resolve the lot of you with a single pinky finger."
"Of course... if you'd rather flee like a whipped hound, tail tucked between your legs, I don't mind at all. After all, facing a disciple personally instructed in magecraft by the goddess Hecate herself, an existence on an entirely different plane of existence from yourselves, there's nothing shameful about running."
The outskirts of Fuyuki City.
The Age of Gods magus Medea, who had already laid out the preliminary framework for a magecraft temple that would only require time to fill in, read aloud the declaration of war her Master had sent her, lips twitching repeatedly at several passages, nearly breaking her composure. But after seeing the encouraging, trusting look in her Master's eyes, she gritted her teeth and read the whole thing to the end.
She swore, this was the single most outrageous thing she had ever done in her life or in death. Simultaneously declaring war on six Heroic Spirits celebrated by the world, three of whom had openly confirmed Anti-Magecraft skills as Three Knight-class Servants. Even the great Greek hero Heracles probably hadn't been this brazen.
But she had no choice, because her Master had made it plainly clear: she was the strongest.
Even if she didn't take the initiative to declare war, others would come to bring her down. Better to set her own timetable and prepare against ambushes. At least this way, the initiative remained in her hands.
As a certain saying went: if you lose a one-on-one fight, people think you're pathetic.
But if you take on six opponents at once and lose, that's an honorable defeat.
"Why three days? Master Caster, I recall what I wrote was tomorrow night."
Young master Atrum frowned slightly. The declaration he had composed set the decisive battle for midnight the following night. And it was even more brazenly worded, telling every other Servant and magus that if they didn't want to fight, they could crawl over tonight and surrender right now.
His Servant had changed it on him. Three days later. That hardly suited the image of their absolutely unbeatable combination.
"Master, even at the fastest possible pace, my temple will need at least three days before it's operational. Setting up a magecraft workshop only requires deploying the formula, but the construction of a magecraft temple demands far more fine-tuning."
And in those three days, I have no idea what kind of low-quality mess of a temple I'll manage to build.
Miss Medea tugged at her purple hood and explained calmly. Her Master's resources were remarkably abundant, and with the assistance of those thirty-odd magus assistants, her temple already had a rough skeleton. But the gap between a rough skeleton and an actual magecraft temple was vast, like learning primary school arithmetic and then being handed an advanced calculus exam.
Even with the aid of a computer (resources), it couldn't be done overnight.
"Also, pride is a fine thing. But these enemies are named, storied ancient heroes regardless. If this ends too quickly, others might think you, Master, came to this magecraft ritual simply to demolish it. Even if it's just a provincial little village at the edge of the world."
"As a Clock Tower magus, one should observe proper etiquette to a certain degree."
This was a lie. The real reason she had quietly revised the announcement's timeline was that she had detected something troubling. Two distinct mana disturbances emanating from within Fuyuki City.
The distance was too great for a precise inspection, but the scale of those mana signatures suggested that two first-rate Heroic Spirit Servants had just erupted into open conflict.
That was deeply inconvenient. She could handle first-rate Heroic Spirits with adequate preparation. But without her magecraft workshop fully constructed, fighting was genuinely difficult. Whether Age of Gods magus or modern magus, ninety percent of a magus's combat power came from the workshop. Continuing to issue a declaration of war under these circumstances...
Was a matter of honor, since her Master had placed such absolute faith in her, and she had no choice but to answer that expectation.
"I see... I have been educated, Master Caster."
Young master Atrum nodded in dawning realization.
So his Servant hadn't deliberately defied his wishes. She had been considering his reputation as a Clock Tower magus all along.
True enough. The Holy Grail War of Fuyuki City was just a provincial little magecraft ritual, but the Three Founding Families were magecraft families of standing. The Einzbern family in particular, with its long heritage, carried a considerable name even within the Clock Tower, renowned throughout Europe as the greatest artificers of artificial humans.
To make the whole affair brutally ugly on the very first night would be a reputation difficult to buy back with money. That was the etiquette of social navigation within magecraft ritual circles.
"Did people of the Age of Gods also value social relationships?"
"Ah, yes. You have to understand, the Age of Gods was a harsh environment. You had to learn a little of everything. Without mastering even the basic art of navigating human relationships, your progress in magecraft would be very difficult."
"...Then does the unofficial account that the captain of the Argo, Jason, preserved the shameful memory of his throne being stolen by his uncle Pelias, actually exist to conceal the truth that during the Argo's voyage, Jason traded away his own chastity to win the favor of great heroes like Heracles and Peleus, the father of Achilles, for the sake of maintaining alliances?"
"?"
That unofficial account of yours is... remarkably unofficial.
I don't even have the nerve to fabricate something like that.
"Although it does sound somewhat peculiar, based on everything I have personally witnessed and heard."
"Jason's background was indeed like that. How else could he have grown so close to a great hero of Heracles's caliber? It was entirely because of those methods he relied on... sigh, I really shouldn't speak of these things. It's truly too unseemly to put into words."
Miss Medea considered briefly, then sighed and answered with complete, unshakeable seriousness.
The way she shook her head partway through looked exactly like someone reluctantly dredging up memories of a figure's unspeakable past.
She had no idea which genius had fabricated this particular piece of unofficial history, but it was quite well-written, she, the Age of Gods magus Medea, approved. You say this unofficial account is inaccurate? Fine, then have the nerve to drag Jason and the great hero Heracles out from the Throne of Heroes to confront her. If they couldn't climb out, then whatever she said was correct.
"Note this down. Revised Age of Gods official history: personally verified by the Age of Gods magus Medea. The paper on Age of Gods historical research authored by Lord El-Melloi II is confirmed accurate."
"Jason and the great hero Heracles did, in fact, maintain a romantic relationship during the voyage of the Argo."
After listening to Miss Medea's rueful commentary, young master Atrum nodded and instructed the magus attendants nearby to record it as evidentiary material for an academic paper.
Since the Fourth Holy Grail War, research into the Age of Gods had briefly become something of a trend.
Spearheaded by the newly risen Clock Tower Lord, some magi argued that the records of the Age of Gods contained numerous errors, and that even unofficial histories were not without reference value. This spawned no small number of papers on Age of Gods history, since researching the Age of Gods was essentially equivalent to researching the Mysteries, and many magi were naturally enthusiastic about it.
The most contested debates centered on two issues: first, whether Age of Gods magi were required to master close-quarters combat; second, whether Jason harbored hidden scandalous secrets during the voyage of the Argo.
One was an extension of the lost path of the magus. The other was the possibility that Age of Gods history had many more errors yet to be excavated.
"This is for..."
"Preparing a paper for a rank advancement. Master Caster, you may not be familiar, but the modern magus rank system considers not only a magus's personal magecraft ability but also their research papers, and what innovations they have contributed to the magecraft world."
This was also precisely why some extraordinarily gifted but practically weak magi could become Clock Tower Lords at a young age. The modern magus world valued not just the individual, but above all, contributions to the field of magecraft.
If it were simply a matter of who could win a fight, then the Clock Tower's Sealing Designation enforcers would all be at the Color rank by default.
"Oh..."
Miss Medea hesitated, wanting to say something but stopping herself. She wasn't afraid of Jason, but she was somewhat apprehensive about Heracles.
If the great hero ever learned that she had been talking about him like this in the mortal world, things might get a bit awkward.
But considering he was a demigod, he almost certainly wouldn't appear in this Holy Grail War where she was already the top-ranked Servant. So she let it go without saying more.
Besides, she hadn't fabricated this unofficial history herself. Whoever did could deal with Heracles on their own. She was just a weak, pitiable, helpless, simple witch who had caused nothing but trouble for Jason...
Forget it, forget it. No point dwelling on these things. Three days. For absolute certainty.
Better to simultaneously keep building the magecraft temple and investigate the true names of the other Heroic Servants. That way she'd be prepared with magecraft countermeasures tailored to their weaknesses. She'd already made such a flamboyant declaration of war, so there was nothing left to be afraid of.
"It seems before our duel is settled, a formidable enemy must first be dealt with."
"You no longer intend to continue?"
"The Age of Gods magus Medea. The strongest Heroic Spirit Servant. Rather than deciding the outcome here, my Master wishes to first observe her peerless grace from a distance."
The gleam of the spear and the torrent of the black sword faded and dispersed together.
Gazing down from above at the small girl in black armor within the crater, Karna laughed softly.
Though this Saber had spoken his true name, the records in the epics described his vulnerabilities as extremely few. So he had no reason to kill her on that account alone. He had, after all, done everything within his current ability. The mana supplied by one and a half Command Seals was simply insufficient to overcome an opponent with this unreasonably vast mana reserve.
Moreover, this was a residential district. Neither he nor she could truly unleash their full power. Both in terms of output and tactics, there were things to hold back. In that kind of environment, deciding the winner was one thing, but truly deciding life and death was a fantasy.
Unless his Master were to give him three Command Seals, allowing him to release the Noble Phantasm that could slay even gods.
But that was clearly impossible. His Master appeared to have other plans of their own as well.
"I have no objection to you continuing to pursue me. But the commotion we've made has been large enough. The Heroic Servant familiars drawn here represent more than one faction. Even you would be spread too thin."
Karna hoisted his spear over his shoulder, turned away in the night sky, and gradually dissolved into spirit form, fading away.
Miss Illya lightly leaped upward, stepping out of the deep crater. She did not choose to give chase.
As he had said: the commotion had been too large. Even with her considerable strength, she could not simultaneously fight Karna and protect her own Master.
The Saber class had nothing like the Archer class's Independent Action skill.
Even if she could sustain her presence in the world on her own for a short time, without a Master she would eventually lose the ability to manifest.
"One leaves, and two more come. Truly rotten luck. Luck even more out-of-spec than my mana..."
Slipping through the night, Miss Illya muttered a rueful commentary to herself as she moved quickly toward the Emiya residence, now reduced to smoldering ruins. She had not released her armament, because her senses had picked up two Heroic Spirit mana signatures approaching the residential district.
She had just been summoned, only to immediately face off against a powerful lancer whose defense and offense were both maxed out and completely unreckless. Having pushed him back, now two more were showing up.
She had absolutely no illusion that these two unknown Servants had come here to watch the show. Back in the Fourth Holy Grail War's port battle, when Saber and Lancer were clashing, she herself had tried to snipe the Master. Servants drawn in by a battle could never have anything good in mind. They were probably here to see if they could pick off the weakened party.
After ten years inside the Grail, her personality was nothing like it had been a decade ago. No longer frenzied.
More like... indifference. An indifference similar to Karna's.
Because that place was cold. There was no one to talk to. Just her, alone.
She slept, most of the time. Digesting the Evil of This World. And so she had become what she was now.
Whether facing an enemy or her own Master, there was little she felt toward anything. A flat, uncaring calm. Because she simply didn't care. Just as she hadn't bothered to think about whether a Noble Phantasm exchange in the middle of a residential district would reduce the whole area to rubble, causing massive casualties.
This was detachment.
No inclination toward active malice. No regard for law or for life.
"The Age of Gods magus... Medea?"
Recalling the declaration she had just heard, Miss Illya was not particularly surprised to find a certain Age of Gods witch appearing in this Holy Grail War. She was only somewhat puzzled at such a brazen announcement.
Simultaneously declaring war on six Heroic Servants, in a war that had already clearly produced someone as above-tier as Karna, even the Golden King Gilgamesh would not act this recklessly. What possible basis for confidence did she have?
Consider: even she herself, in the Fourth Holy Grail War, had achieved at best simultaneously facing Artoria and Diarmuid as her best result.
Every other time had either been a coordinated siege exploiting circumstances, or one-on-one with the enemy in a compromised state.
Crack.
The Emiya residence had been reduced to a charred, black ruin.
Everything except a storage shed protected by her own black mana had been incinerated and crumbled to ash. Walls and earth alike had dried and split apart.
Stepping into the scorched wasteland, Miss Illya quickly located the red-haired boy through their contract, unconscious from blood loss and heat exposure.
As a Master, he was clearly unqualified. After all, being fought all the way to his front doorstep before summoning his Servant was embarrassing enough. But as a magus, his aptitude was respectable. Over twenty magical circuits was nothing to dismiss, and he could supply mana adequately even for a first-rate Heroic Spirit Servant.
"Emiya, hm..."
Miss Illya seemed to recall something. That surname was uncommon in the Far East.
And that familiar magecraft inscription. Was he Emiya Kiritsugu's illegitimate son by any chance? Had Emiya Kiritsugu recovered her relic in the great fire?
She tilted her head in puzzlement, but now was not the time to think about that. Without hurrying, she drew the sharp black longsword and made a small, shallow cut on her wrist. Blood trickled down and dripped around the boy, drawing black mana in a formation beneath him, like a hidden boundary field. Grey-black mist diffused from it, blurring his presence.
As a Saber-class Servant...
Her repertoire of magecraft was limited. Nothing like the Assassin class with its mechanisms for everything, stats built on mechanisms, output built on mechanisms, unkillable beauty.
But her skills were varied and adaptable. Beyond the foundational Anti-Magecraft and Mana Release, she also possessed a field-type skill that used mana to create a disturbed area nearly impossible to detect. And unlike Jack the Ripper's Dark Fog of London, this boundary eluded even the Instinct-type skills of Three Knight-class Servant, which couldn't pinpoint a location within it.
"He looks a little familiar. Like I've seen him somewhere before."
After finishing this, Miss Illya pressed her lips briefly to her wrist and let the wound seal itself.
She had a faint impression of Emiya Shirou, but it was an indistinct one. Roughly the feeling of having met someone many years ago, but now that they were grown up, they didn't quite match the memory.
After all, in ten years, the only things she had not let change were her wishes and her obsessions.
Even her own personality had grown considerably colder. Compared to that frenzied version of herself from a decade ago, desperately trying to claw her way up out of a deep, dark swamp, she resembled more a quiet older sister now. Calm in the face of enemies and desperate situations alike.
Whether regarding enemies or her own Master, she felt a flat kind of disinterest. Because she simply didn't care. Just as she had been too indifferent to bother thinking about whether her Noble Phantasm exchange with Karna in the middle of a residential area might bring it all crashing down in mass casualties.
This was apathy.
No malice, but no care for law or for life.
"Honestly, you really do know how to make trouble for yourself. You felt those two mana signatures too, didn't you?"
"If they hadn't stopped when they did, the entire residential district would have been flattened."
Somewhere in the residential district, a red-bodysuit-clad man set down his petite, high-class Master and spread his hands in mild exasperation. He clearly had little desire to press any further into the affected area.
The combat those two Servant had put out, just the shockwave alone would be enough to kill a weaker Servant. How utterly unconcerned must his Master be to keep trying to advance into the epicenter?
"Precisely because of that, we should go. I am the administrator of Fuyuki City. In my own domain, I have every right and every responsibility to put a stop to this magecraft ritual causing further casualties, and to avoid repeating the tragedy of the Fuyuki City fire ten years ago!"
The young Tohsaka Rin who had been set down clenched her little fists and spoke in earnest, though she was visibly trembling from the cold night wind, her tone entirely righteous and uncompromising.
"...A domain administrator who works part-time jobs to make ends meet?"
"Th-this is a covert inspection! Monitoring the livelihoods of Fuyuki City's citizens! How dare you call it a part-time job?"
"Right, then, my esteemed administrator. Please wait here."
The red-bodysuit man sighed, standing on a rooftop, gazing from a distance at the ruined remains of the Emiya residence in the far distance. Emiya Shirou had to be as dead as dead could be, right? A clash that fierce and brutal, and there was a chance the Lancer had simply hit the Saber-class King of Britain with a single Noble Phantasm and finished the fight.
Not an unreasonable thought. Because by his assessment of Emiya Shirou's magecraft aptitude...
Sustaining a Saber-class Servant's attributes would be a very difficult ask. At best, something between top-tier first-rate and top-tier super-first-rate. Running into a Lancer who started at the super-first-rate tier.
That Knight King probably hadn't even had time to release a Noble Phantasm. Mobility and strength were on the same tier.
"Stay here. There's more than one residual Servant signature. If something goes wrong, follow the original plan. Use a Command Seal to summon me back to..."
And yet before the red man could finish his words.
A surge of powerful mana.
Slowly approached from the far end of the street.
"!"
A silver-haired masked girl holding a black knight's sword stood outside the ruined street. She raised her blade to point in all four directions, mana stretching out in all eight.
"What, who is this, which version of Artoria managed to drive off the Lancer?!"
He saw the black-armored knight girl.
And the girl.
Saw him.