Morgan and Gilgamesh were intensely aware of each other.
The workshop reinforcement Morgan had performed the moment she was summoned was meant to block Gilgamesh's sight.
Gilgamesh's immediate flight high into the sky to survey the Fuyuki area was to find Morgan.
The two shared a fierce sense of rivalry,
And at the center of it was Kyle/Marduk.
Time returns to the first night.
Just as Assassin had attacked the hospital.
Gilgamesh and Morgan were glaring daggers at each other in the skies above Fuyuki.
"I do not know what business a loser has participating in this ritual. Do you intend to cast another curse?"
"How arrogant you are, specter of Britain. If you still have not abandoned that wicked hope, I shall sever it myself."
It began lightly.
'You're a failure who lost your friend and got Kyle killed while casting your curses.'
'And you're a specter desperately clinging to a nation doomed to fail no matter what you do.'
This barely even counted as slander.
After their light greetings, the two got to the main point, neither slowly nor quickly.
"The position of Magus that I have bestowed seems too grand for a specter. Perhaps because you are a seed rotten from the root, you cannot even provide proper attendance."
'Not only did you forcibly steal the Command Spells, which are the Master's right, but you also imprisoned him in a hospital. Are you even a Servant?'
"Attendance? That is amusing. Was a child-killer capable of using such a word?"
'You put on a show of killing a baby right in front of Kyle. And with that, you intend to become Kyle's Servant?'
Maximum Dislike. The two had disliked each other from the very beginning.
Morgan was the queen of a Lostbelt, and Gilgamesh was the king of Pan-Human History.
Though the two, each possessing the eyes of a ruler, shared a similar way of thinking, there were subtle differences.
Gilgamesh, fundamentally, has an interest in humans.
Humans themselves are vile, cunning beings who constantly change their words.
But the things they create shine more brilliantly than anything else. There are times when vile humans create the most radiant things, and times when the opposite is true.
Gilgamesh believes in the sparkle of humanity.
Therefore, Gilgamesh judges.
What can the humanity of the current age truly accomplish?
Does a future exist for these beings? Or does it not?
It was Gilgamesh's job to determine this. It was the inevitable destiny of the king who ended the Age of Gods and opened the horizon for the Age of Man.
Morgan, on the other hand, has no interest in humans. She had no interest in the fairies or humans who were the people of the Fairy Kingdom.
The only things important to her were the semblance of a peaceful nation and the land of Britain. Just those two.
The rest was meaningless.
The mysteries of fairies? The creations of humans? Unnecessary.
Morgan's magecraft and item construction could cover it all.
The sum of all the sparkle possessed by the humanity of the Fairy Kingdom could never surpass her alone.
That is why Morgan detests Gilgamesh.
She detests her for not ruling as a perfect being, despite possessing perfect abilities.
And that is why Gilgamesh detests Morgan.
She detests her for ruling over a nation in which the possibility of a future does not exist.
Their fight was inevitable.
"It seems words will not suffice."
"I will take back the Command Spells and the Caster-class container."
Morgan's magecraft and Gilgamesh's treasures clashed.
The magecraft, a mortal wound just by touch as if it were sowing calamity, did not reach Gilgamesh.
Sitting upon her Vimana, she fired countless treasures. They went beyond nullifying the magecraft and attempted a direct assault on Morgan's body.
"Meaningless."
But even those treasures could not pierce Morgan's defenses.
For Gilgamesh, who typically countered Heroic Spirits with the advantage of possessing the originals of all mysteries, Morgan, who was not a Heroic Spirit of Pan-Human History, was an extremely bad matchup.
The current Morgan was a dual entity, a mix of the Pan-Human History and Lostbelt Morgans, but ultimately, her personality and control belonged to the Lostbelt version.
Countering with the originals? Morgan's primary magecraft, Water Mirror, does not exist in Gilgamesh's treasury.
Likewise, breaking through her defensive spells was also impossible.
The treasures that could rend magecraft were powerless before a more refined technique.
"How irritating."
A meaningless war of attrition continued. The boring battle, in which not even a minor scratch could be inflicted, yet which was underpinned by countless calculations, ended quickly.
If they truly wanted to determine a winner, they would have to draw their Noble Phantasms.
But Gilgamesh did not want to go that far.
She was, at best, a witch captive to her own stubbornness. To draw Ea would be an act that wounded Gilgamesh's own pride.
Growing bored, Gilgamesh closed the Gates of her treasury first.
Morgan, too, stopped her magical bombardment.
It was only the first day of the Holy Grail War. They had confirmed that their powers were evenly matched.
An all-out war would come later, Morgan predicted.
"Hmph. Enjoy this moment. In the end, the Beast will be mine."
"An interesting hypothesis."
Morgan scoffed at Gilgamesh.
Gilgamesh's eyebrow twitched upward slightly.
"Allow me to tell you something, since you seem to be misunderstanding, King of Heroes."
"I shall hear it."
"Kyle hates you."
A vein popped on Gilgamesh's forehead.
She, who had been indifferent to countless provocations, reacted for the first time.
"What did you say?"
"Hmph."
"You wretch! Stand right there!"
Morgan used a water mirror to vanish in an instant.
Gilgamesh fumed alone in the empty sky before finally returning to the mansion after listening to Tokiomi's five-hour-long plea.
Filled with venom, Gilgamesh spent the day vowing not to spare her next time.
The second day. Gilgamesh spent money indiscriminately.
She didn't care where she could spend it. It was fine even if the goods were of low quality.
This stress. She had to relieve this terrible stress.
"You wretch…! You wretch!"
Gilgamesh vented her surging anger even while shopping.
'Kyle hates you.'
It was no different from a child's taunt.
It was a condemnation lacking any colorful vocabulary, like 'I despise you,' or 'I never want to see you again.'
But that single phrase was unbelievably irritating.
A direct statement, not mincing any words.
What made her so angry was that she couldn't deny it.
"C-Customer? Are you alright?"
"Do not lay a hand on my royal person, you fool."
The concern of a mere shop clerk like this was nothing but unpleasant.
Grinding her teeth, Gilgamesh waited for night to fall.
***
At last, the night of the second day arrived.
Tokiomi, who had been agonizing over how to persuade Gilgamesh to proceed smoothly with the Holy Grail War, found himself with another headache.
Gilgamesh, who had been solely focused on finding the Caster known as Morgan, had suddenly fallen for the provocation of another Heroic Spirit.
The place was the wharf.
At the port, the center of trade for the reasonably large Fuyuki City, Heroic Spirits were gathering.
Originally, this would have been a good opportunity to hide one's own strength and observe the other camps' forces with a familiar.
"Saber, and Lancer. The honorable duel between you two. It was truly magnificent. It is only natural that my blood boils at such a battle!"
The Rider class. He who, upon his appearance, had declared his True Name—Iskandar, the King of Conquerors—was once again shouting to all participants of the Holy Grail War.
"I cannot be the only one! The only Heroic Spirit drawn out by these clean sword strikes!"
Rider spread his arms wide. His immense spirit was truly worthy of being called the King of Conquerors.
"Pathetic. How pathetic! O heroes and champions gathered in Fuyuki. Did you feel nothing from the valor displayed by Saber and Lancer! To possess a True Name that remains in history, yet only bide your time and watch for an opportunity. If this is not cowardice, what is?!"
Leaping from his chariot, he moved his mouth without rest, like a brilliant orator.
It was not a persuasion laced with logic and reason.
It was a roar, packed with a spirit and confidence that only Heroic Spirits, past heroes who possessed honor and pride, could understand.
"Let all Heroic Spirits summoned by the Holy Grail gather here now! Know that any coward who still fears to show their face shall not escape the scorn of I, Iskandar, the King of Conquerors!"
And then, he grinned. The hearty laugh of a true man certainly had the power to make a man's heart pound.
However, to a competent magus—that is, to the Masters—it looked like nothing more than bizarre foolishness.
Rider's Master, Waver Velvet, was not a competent magus, but he could at least distinguish right from wrong.
He grabbed Rider's leg, shouting as if in a scream.
"Idiot, idiot, idiot! What nonsense are you spouting! Not only did you say your True Name, but what are you doing provoking them?!"
"Hmm. Strange. When I said but a word, a legion of a million would respond with a great cheer."
"The maximum number of Heroic Spirits is seven…!"
It was absurd. Waver was so dizzy he felt like he would vomit.
There was no way any fool would be lured out by such a crude provocation and reveal their own information.
There shouldn't have been… but there was.
"The modern world is in chaos. That a rabble of upstarts would dare to call themselves king, setting me aside."
Gilgamesh, clad in golden armor, appeared at the wharf, opening hundreds of gates from her treasury.
It was a good opportunity to relieve her stress.