_________________________________________________________________________________________________________
This was the Holy Grail War—every summoned Servant here had one wish: to claim the Grail for themselves.
So when Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, made his declaration, it came off a little ridiculous… yet somehow, that was exactly what made him so charismatic.
"I'm afraid I can't accept your offer," Diarmuid said firmly. "The Holy Grail I seek will go only to the master I've pledged myself to in this life—not to you, Rider."
He admired Iskandar's honesty in introducing himself so openly, but even respect couldn't change his loyalty.
Saber—Artoria—didn't respond. Her attention was locked entirely on Morgan.
Morgan had been ready to listen, but when she realized Iskandar was trying to recruit her as a vassal, she actually laughed in disbelief.
"You call yourself a king—what makes you think I'm not? I am Morgan, Queen of Britain's Fairy Kingdom! What right do you have to ask me to serve you?"
Her words sent shockwaves through the group.
Wait, Queen of Britain?Wasn't the King of Britain supposed to be… King Arthur?
When did that change—and into a woman, no less?
Artoria's brows furrowed, her face darkening.She finally understood. The Morgan before her wasn't the one from her own world. This Morgan came from another timeline—one where fate had been rewritten, and she had taken the throne for herself.
"The King of Britain… You mean that King?" Iskandar asked, eyes widening. Even he had heard the name. It was too famous not to know.
Morgan's face twitched. Rage surged within her.
Of course—they thought she was Arthur. Even after becoming a queen, she was still just "another version" of him in their eyes.Humans only remembered the canon, never the deviations.
"No," Diarmuid cut in, leveling his spear at her. "You're not the Knight King."
Morgan didn't bother to explain. Her tone turned cold and proud.
"My name is Morgan."
A heavy silence fell.
Iskandar: "..."Diarmuid: "..."Every Master present: "..."
Wait—what? Morgan… the Morgan… became Queen of Britain?
Artoria sighed, stepping forward as everyone stared at her in confusion.
"My name is Artoria Pendragon, King of Britain."
"You're the Knight King?" Iskandar blinked in disbelief. "I expected someone taller… You Brits sure have a lot of kings, don't you?"
The crowd was just as lost as he was.
If both Morgan and Artoria were women…then, uh—how exactly was Mordred born?
"There's only one King of Britain," Artoria snapped, drawing her sword and pointing it straight at him. "Unless you want me to prove it with steel, King of Conquest."
Her voice was calm again, eyes steady, even as she glanced toward Morgan.
"Then how did she become queen?" Iskandar asked curiously, completely ignoring Saber's hostility and gesturing toward Morgan.
Before Morgan could answer, Diarmuid spoke first.
"I see now. You two are from different timelines."
The realization dawned on everyone else.
Morgan let out a quiet, sharp laugh—she didn't deny it.
"So, Rider," she said mockingly, "still want me as your vassal?"
Iskandar scratched his head, a bit disappointed.
"Guess that means negotiations have fallen through, huh? What a shame. I was looking forward to it."
The duel between Saber and Lancer had already been interrupted, and now Rider and Berserker had joined the chaos. The situation was spiraling out of control.
Just then, Diarmuid's Master—Kenneth—finally broke his silence. Hidden in the shadows, he'd spotted someone standing next to Iskandar: a familiar young man.
"Waver Velvet… So that's where you've been. I was wondering what kind of insanity made you steal my relic. Turns out, you wanted to join the Holy Grail War yourself!"
His voice dripped with fury.
"In that case, I'll give you a personal lesson—on what it means when magi kill each other!"
"Be honored, boy. You'll experience fear and pain firsthand!"
Kenneth's voice was venomous, sending Waver into a panic. The boy clutched the hem of Iskandar's cloak, trembling.
"Hah… running into your homeroom teacher in ranked mode," Alex snorted from the sidelines, amused.
Iskandar looked down at his terrified Master, gave his shoulder a reassuring pat, and then turned to shout at Kenneth.
"Hey, Magus! Sounds like you want to replace this kid as my Master? That's rich!"
"The one who fights beside me must have the courage to ride into battle, to charge the enemy head-on! But you—too scared to even show yourself? You're not fit to command anyone! Hahaha!"
The mockery was merciless.
Diarmuid's face darkened. His Master had been humiliated—and by another Servant, no less.
Wait—did that mean Kenneth had only picked him as a backup because Iskandar's relic got stolen?
That was an insult beyond words.
Kenneth's expression twisted with rage. Being looked down on by a Servant—unforgivable.
To him, Servants were tools—nothing more than weapons for a Master's use.
Iskandar, however, wasn't finished.
"And I know there are more of you hiding out there," he called out suddenly, raising his voice to the night. "Those cowards skulking in the shadows, spying from the dark!"
Far away, Alex raised an eyebrow.
"Ah, here it comes—the famous moment," he said with a grin. "Merlin, Roxy, let's get ready. Time for us to make an entrance."
Iskandar continued, his booming laughter echoing across the battlefield.
"Saber! Lancer! Your honorable duel was truly magnificent! Surely I'm not the only one who heard such a glorious clash of steel. To all Servants summoned by the Grail—come forth and join us!"
Silence.
No one answered.
"What, too scared to show your faces?" Iskandar smirked. "Then know this—you'll have the eternal scorn of Iskandar, King of Conquerors!"
A full-scale taunt—broadcast across the battlefield!
From his home, Tokiomi Tohsaka sighed as he watched through his familiar's eyes.
"Ah… this is bad."
The perfect opportunity to let others fight it out had vanished.He knew exactly what would happen next.The Hero King wouldn't take an insult like that quietly.
Sure enough, at the scene, the first ones to step out of the shadows were Alex, Roxy, and Merlin.
Alex could've kept watching, but no way was he letting himself be called a coward.
"M–Merlin?" Artoria's composure shattered the moment she saw him.
"Hello, little Lyria!" Merlin waved cheerfully, grinning at her.
"..."
________________________________________________________________________________________________________