At this moment, undercurrents were surging in Fuyuki City as various forces quietly made their appearance.
In one corner of the city, Saber Artoria and Irisviel von Einzbern were riding in a luxury sports car, driving toward the city center.
Saber was focused. Calm instructions from Emiya Kiritsugu and Maiya Hisau came through her earpiece. Their first task was to scout for and possibly make contact with other Heroic Spirits appearing nearby.
Meanwhile, in the basement of the Holy Church in Fuyuki City, the atmosphere was completely different.
Kirei Kotomine sat quietly in the dim room. He raised his left hand. On the back of his hand, besides his own command spells, he had also transplanted the command spell patterns from another 'corpse' through some forbidden means.
That corpse had been meticulously preserved for eight years.
A shadow-like figure appeared silently beside him. It was Assassin—the nineteenth "Old Man of the Mountain," Hassan-i-Sabbah, known as "Hundred-Faced" for his multiple personality ability.
Besides him, there was an even more dazzling presence in the room.
Clad in golden armor, he sat with his legs crossed casually, his crimson eyes filled with scrutiny and amusement as he watched Kirei Kotomine's actions.
He was the oldest king of heroes, Gilgamesh.
"Heh, how utterly amusing," Gilgamesh said, toying with an exquisite golden cup, his tone full of mockery. "Plundering command spells from a dead man and preserving the corpse for eight years... Your twisted heart has allowed this King to witness a rare 'mongrel' drama."
In the face of the king of heroes' mockery,
a faint, almost joyful smile appeared on Kirei Kotomine's face instead: "I have always harbored a deep curiosity regarding the 'accidental' passing of my mentor, Tohsaka Tokiomi.
And since he was once chosen by the Holy Grail as a master, then even if he died, this qualification would not easily dissipate." He
his gaze fell on the plundered command spells on the back of his hand. "I also never expected that with this 'legacy,' I could summon you, the legendary king of heroes. This perhaps... is the arrangement of fate."
Hearing this, Gilgamesh elegantly swirled the golden wine cup in his hand, the nectar inside looking like molten amber.
"To this King, this war is nothing more than a diversion to relieve boredom."
His voice carried a condescending laziness. "And for you, Kirei Kotomine, it is merely a legitimate stage provided for your twisted heart that yearns to commit evil."
"Please do not speak so... bluntly." Kirei Kotomine turned and pushed open the heavy stained-glass window behind him. The night wind rushed in, bringing a chill.
He looked up at the boundless starry sky outside the window, his voice calm yet hiding an undercurrent. "In this life, there is nothing more pathetic than living in a muddle, accomplishing nothing. Ever since my 'respectable' mentor's accidental death, I have increasingly lamented the impermanence and wonder of fate.
Who would have thought that a Magician like him, who meticulously planned everything, would meet such an abrupt end?"
"It is precisely this point that makes this King find you somewhat interesting."
Gilgamesh took a small sip of the fine wine, his tone filled with contempt for all living beings. "Mortals and mongrels always foolishly chase after so-called meaning and value, attempting to prove their own uniqueness. They do not know that their entire lives are but marionettes in the hands of higher beings, performing one predestined farce after another."
Meanwhile, in a luxury hotel suite in Fuyuki City, decorated elegantly and filled with warm twilight tones.
One of the Lords of the London Clock Tower, Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, was straightening his meticulous formal attire.
Standing before him was a Servant with a tall stature and a handsome face tinged with a hint of melancholy.
"Lancer, you should have felt it clearly, shouldn't you? That blatant, almost provocative fluctuation of magical energy." Kayneth spoke with the commanding tone of a superior.
Diarmuid Ua Duibhne—this famous knight from Celtic mythology, the most outstanding warrior under the Child of Light, Fionn, bowed slightly at this moment.
A warrior's sharpness and loyalty flickered in those deep eyes. "The opponent deliberately released such a strong aura; their purpose is undoubtedly to lure us into showing ourselves."
To the side, an elegantly poised woman with fiery red hair walked over. She was Kayneth's fiancée, Sola-Ui Nuada-Reeah Sofialy.
A gentle smile was on her face, yet her gaze was involuntarily drawn to Diarmuid's handsome features and his tragic love spot.
"Lancer," her voice was soft as she reached out her hand, "if you feel your magical energy is insufficient during battle, I will replenish it for you in time. Please... act with caution."
Feeling the warmth of her fingertips, Diarmuid's heart couldn't help but stir slightly. His cursed love spot invisibly magnified his own charm.
He forcibly suppressed the fluctuations in his heart, adhering to knightly etiquette and loyalty as he lowered his head even further. "Thank you for your concern, Lady Sola-Ui."
As his words fell, his figure silently vanished into the night outside the window.
On the outskirts of Fuyuki City, in an abandoned industrial area, broken walls and ruins cast hideous shadows under the moonlight.
Artoria drove the sports car, making a beautiful drift and stopping steadily next to the rust-stained factory building.
Irisviel stepped out from the passenger seat, her pure white dress looking exceptionally striking against the desolate background.
At a higher vantage point they hadn't noticed, atop an abandoned water tower, two figures stood quietly, looking down at everything below.
Meanwhile, countless eyes hidden in the shadows—the "Hundred-Faced" Hassans dispatched by Kirei Kotomine—were also like dormant venomous snakes, bringing the area that was about to become a battlefield into their surveillance network.
Atop the water tower, Kanjuro stood against the wind. "Just arrived in Fuyuki City and already stumbled upon such a lively scene? It seems the 'nightlife' here is much more exciting than imagined."
Jeanne d'Arc, beside him, seemed to be standing on an invisible platform. "Isn't the purpose of our trip to hunt down the Magicians of the Clock Tower?"
Her cold gaze swept over the group of Saber below, her tone flat and emotionless.
"The main course should always be saved for the end to be enjoyed slowly," Kanjuro chuckled. "The good show is about to begin. That Heroic Spirit of the Lancer class is already impatient."
The moment his words fell, Artoria below seemed to sense something. She suddenly looked up, staring sharply in the direction of Kanjuro and Jeanne d'Arc. Despite the distance, her powerful Instinct had already captured those two oppressive auras.
Jeanne d'Arc's gaze met Saber's across the distance. She raised an eyebrow slightly. "Such a pure and unwavering aura of holiness... In this era, it is rare to see such a... pure 'idealist'."
"Sounds just like the old you," Kanjuro teased.
"Not necessarily," Jeanne d'Arc shook her head gently. "A conviction that has not been burned by fire is ultimately different from a will reshaped from the ashes. I have no way of knowing what she has been through."
As the two conversed, Artoria below was already on full alert. She said in a low voice to Irisviel beside her, "It's the aura I felt outside the castle before... Irisviel, it seems a fierce battle is unavoidable tonight."
She adjusted her magical energy flow. Although the sword of promised victory had not yet appeared, its invisible sharpness had begun to manifest.
Irisviel's gaze was deadlocked on Kanjuro high above.
Her heart couldn't help but beat faster. "Why... is he appearing here?"
---------------------------------
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! If the story has you hooked and you can't wait to see what happens next, you can unlock 30 chapters in advance over on my Patreon: patreon.com/TLHimejima1
Every bit of support means the world to me so if you're loving the ride, don't forget to drop a Power Stone and let me know.