And so, the Holy Grail War came to a close that night with Kayneth's camp bowing out.
Thanks to Shirou Amamiya's maneuvering, Kayneth may have lost the Holy Grail War, but he unexpectedly won his fiancée's heart in return. In a way, he might have been the biggest winner of the night.
On the other hand, if one had to name the person who suffered the most tonight, it probably was not Lancer, even though his own Master had ordered him to kill himself.
Lancer did not resent the brat's scheme that led to his defeat all that much. He accepted the outcome with surprising calm.
The one who really got hurt the most was only one person. Waver.
First, Shirou strung him along completely, then Kayneth-sensei beat him up, and in the end he got absolutely nothing out of it.
But when Rider came to pick him up, Waver never imagined he would get hit with one more blow.
"You knew from the beginning that Shinji was lying to me?"
Rider nodded as if it were nothing.
"Of course."
From the very start, the King of Conquerors had known that Lancer taking the Master hostage was just something Shirou had made up on the spot. That story had far too many holes in it.
At first glance, it sounded reasonably convincing, but anyone who thought about it carefully would find all kinds of problems with it. It was not enough to fool Rider.
Waver's eyes went wide with anger.
"If you saw through Shinji's plan, then why didn't you tell me?"
Rider scratched his cheek and answered with an innocent look,
"It has always been the retainers who offer advice to their king. Since when does a king provide counsel to his subjects?
Besides, that brat was not trying to set you up. He was only targeting Lancer and his Master.
And I also thought the strategy he came up with tonight was quite good, worth testing out, so I decided to place a bet on him."
With the air of someone completely uninvolved, Rider stroked his chin and clicked his tongue in admiration.
"Mm, just as I expected. That brat is even more capable than I imagined."
Waver, standing beside him, was left utterly speechless.
"Worth testing out... I, I almost got killed by Kayneth-sensei!"
Waver was so furious he could barely get the words out.
After all that, he was the only one who had spent the whole night in the dark, making a fool of himself like a clown.
He had worked so hard and steeled himself so much, yet in the end no one cared about how he had performed.
All of a sudden, Waver felt dizzy, like the blood had drained from his head, and his whole body started trembling.
Rider too... he never took me seriously.
Even though I'm his Master!
He's nothing more than a mere familiar of a Magus!
And yet he tricked me together with an outsider. Unforgivable!
Waver clenched his right hand so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palm, sending magical energy into the three marks on the back of his hand.
He was determined to use a Command Spell to make Rider understand his place, but just then, a large hand landed on the boy's shoulder.
"And another thing, boy."
The red-haired giant spoke.
"If you're the man who serves as my Master, then there's no way you'd die from a tiny little predicament like this, is there?
If you can't even handle a situation like tonight's, then what right do you have to be my Master? How are you supposed to ride across the battlefield with me from here on?"
"..."
Waver could not help freezing in astonishment.
Rider's words were so matter-of-fact, overflowing with the arrogance and pride of a king, without the slightest trace of respect for his Master.
If anyone else had said something like that, Waver would only have found it disgusting. But hearing it from Rider, it did not feel offensive at all.
That was probably what people called Charisma. Perhaps that was the very quality that had drawn in the great warriors of two thousand years ago and made them swear to follow the King of Conquerors to the death.
Biting his lip, Waver lowered his head and asked,
"Then... do you think I'm qualified to be your Master now?"
The red-haired giant burst into a bold, hearty laugh.
"Isn't it obvious?
The one fit to be my Master must be a brave warrior who gallops across the battlefield at my side.
Boy, in this era there isn't a finer man for the role than you."
"......."
A dizzy spell washed over Waver again.
But this time, it was not anger making him lose himself. It was pure joy.
At last, someone had truly acknowledged his worth.
In the past, Waver had always believed that praise from others had no value at all, and that taking pride in being admired was itself a kind of foolishness.
The boy, who had never once been the center of anyone's attention, had always believed that without question.
So now, Waver did not know how to face the awkward joy swelling inside him.
He could not suppress the wild delight in his heart, yet his pride would not allow him to lose himself in it so shamelessly.
Waver's mind was in complete disarray, and he had a feeling that what he had experienced tonight would become a treasure he would never forget for the rest of his life.
...
...
"Shirou, I came to pick you up."
By the time Irisviel arrived at the top floor of the Hyatt Hotel with Saber, Shirou was in the middle of saying his final farewells to Kayneth and Sola-Ui.
Kayneth had already lost both his Servant and his last Command Spell. He accepted his defeat cleanly, and the next morning he would board a plane with Sola-Ui and leave Japan.
But most likely, before they even landed at the airport in London, word that Lord El-Melloi had been defeated in a minor Magus ritual in the Far East would already have spread throughout the Clock Tower.
The democratic faction would probably make a great fuss over the matter and look for ways to damage El-Melloi's standing within the Clock Tower.
But no matter what those people might say, Kayneth no longer cared.
For him, his most important wish had already come true.
More importantly, this defeat had made him understand many things.
First of all, he had realized that he was not a born warrior.
Joining a Magus battle just to add distinction to his record now seemed nothing but foolish and laughable.
What exactly had he been thinking... wasting such precious time on something as futile as the Holy Grail War?
As one who pursued the path of magecraft, he would have been far better off spending that effort on solid, practical research rather than chasing empty glory.
Kayneth decided that once he returned to London, he would formally propose to Sola-Ui.
That way, El-Melloi and Valualeta would become an even firmer alliance.
He had already made up his mind. For the next fifty years of his life, he would set himself one modest goal: make aristocracy great again.
"...Hmph. Trambelio and Valualeta. Once I get back to London, your good days are over."
Kayneth wore a self-satisfied smile, while Sola-Ui clung to his arm with an indulgent look on her face.
He's getting carried away again... honestly.
The moment I stop watching him, he starts heading for trouble. That was the thought lingering quietly in her mind.
"Shirou."
Kayneth looked at the red-haired boy and asked, "What are you planning to do after the Holy Grail War is over?"
"Huh?"
Shirou froze.
"My Holy Grail War's only just hit the middle stretch. Who knows whether I'll even still be alive next week?"
After the red-haired boy answered honestly, Kayneth looked at him with open disdain.
"Don't say such spineless things! You're the man who defeated me, an Archibald. How could you possibly die in some absurd little ritual like this?
Since you beat me, then as my successor you'd better put on a proper show. Crush every last participant in the Holy Grail War and make it clear who the real strong one is!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll do my best to win."
Kayneth was fired up and full of passion, but Shirou's response was flat.
"Now then, back to what comes after the Holy Grail War."
Kayneth's expression turned serious.
"Shirou, have you ever considered continuing your studies as a Magus?"
"So you want to invite me to the Clock Tower?"
At Shirou's question, Kayneth showed a somewhat awkward, embarrassed look.
"If you have any interest in it, then come to the Clock Tower. I'll educate you into the finest Magus in the world."
After their indirect clash tonight, Kayneth had already sensed the enormous potential hidden inside Shirou.
He had never undergone any systematic training in magecraft, and he was shockingly ignorant of many of the most basic principles of the world of magecraft, yet he had reached this level through talent alone.
If someone were to teach him the fundamentals of the Magus world, Shirou's future achievements would be almost impossible to imagine.
A conviction took root in Kayneth's heart, one that sounded utterly impossible on the surface.
If Shirou entered the Clock Tower and devoted himself fully to magecraft, then one day he would reach that supreme rank, Grand.
Perhaps he might even touch the realm of Magic itself...
"I haven't thought that far ahead yet. Right now I'm focused on the Holy Grail War, so I can't give you an answer."
Shirou replied, "Still, I'll keep Kayneth-san's invitation in mind for now."
"Hmph. You're the first person who's ever brushed off my invitation to my face."
Kayneth was clearly displeased by Shirou's evasive attitude.
"Shirou, come here a moment."
Just as they were about to leave, Sola-Ui suddenly let go of her fiancé and called out to the red-haired boy.
"What is it, big sis?"
Shirou trotted over to her.
"Thank you for tonight, Shirou-kun. This is your compensation, or reward, for winning our bet."
As she spoke, Sola-Ui bent down, leaned forward, and kissed him on the cheek.
"!?!?!?"
The three people and one spirit in the room, Kayneth, Irisviel, Saber, and Lady Avalon, all changed expression at once.
"Sola-Ui!?" "Shirou!!"
Ignoring her fiancé behind her, whose face had gone pale, Sola-Ui only looked at the red-haired boy in front of her.
With a meaningful smile, she murmured softly, "Shirou, when you're a little older...
when you come to London to visit, make sure you say hello to your big sister, all right?
I'll give you the warmest welcome I can. Of course... behind Kayneth's back."
"Shirou! On second thought, you really should stay away from the Clock Tower!"
Kayneth's furious roar rang out into the night.
...
...
On the way back, both Irisviel and Saber seemed to be in low spirits.
The silver-haired homunculus had her hands on the wheel, but unlike the drive over, she was not in that wild, manic state at all. She drove the sports car like an old sedan, swaying lazily along the empty roads before dawn.
"..."
An awkward silence hung over the car.
To keep the atmosphere from growing even more uncomfortable, Shirou had no choice but to fill the silence, chattering on and on about the battle earlier that night.
Irisviel glanced at the red-haired boy through the rearview mirror.
"Getting kissed on the cheek by a beautiful married woman must have made you very happy, Shirou. Otherwise, why are you talking so much tonight?"
Shirou was speechless inside. Who do you think I'm talking this much for in the first place?
Then he suddenly felt someone staring at him.
"What is it, Saber? You're staring at my face awfully seriously."
"...It's nothing."
Saber turned her head and looked out the window, with no telling what she was thinking about.
...
...
The Mion River marked the boundary between Shinto and Miyama Town.
Above the Fuyuki Bridge spanning the river and linking the two sides of the city.
[Assassin] calmly adjusted his breathing, blending himself into the environment as he focused his awareness on the sparse traffic below.
This was the only route from Shinto back to Miyama Town, and also the place with the clearest view.
If one intended to assassinate Saber's Master, Irisviel, then there was no better location.
As long as that woman was killed, this job would be complete.
At first, he had assumed this would be a very easy assignment, yet one unforeseen complication after another had kept arising.
For the past several nights, [Assassin] had actually been searching for a chance to act, but never once found the right moment.
The reason was the red-haired boy by Irisviel's side.
[Assassin]'s instincts told him that as long as that red-haired boy was there, the assassination would not succeed.
Every time he placed a finger on the trigger, an image would flash through his mind of the red-haired boy suddenly drawing his sword and cutting the bullet out of the air with a single slash.
To kill Irisviel for certain, he would have to get around that red-haired boy first, or else...strike when the boy had no way to observe his surroundings.
For example, inside a closed car.
So [Assassin] decided to wait until Irisviel and the red-haired boy were driving back.
No matter how sharp that boy's senses were, there was no way he could stay on guard against an attack coming from outside while sitting inside a car.
And so [Assassin] lay in wait on the bridge, quietly waiting for the right moment.
Very soon, a highly conspicuous silver sports car appeared on the Fuyuki Bridge.
After confirming that it was the Einzbern car, [Assassin] dispelled his spirit form at the top of the bridge.
Beneath the dim starlight, a black-clad man in a hood appeared.
He raised the sniper rifle, so familiar it was almost like an extension of his own arm, and shifted into the ideal sniping posture.
He fixed the scope's crosshairs on the driver's seat of the sports car. The instant the silver-haired woman's face fell into the center of the reticle, his finger settled onto the trigger.
That ominous premonition from earlier did not come. [Assassin] was certain that with a single shot, he could take Irisviel's life.
I can kill her...!
Just as [Assassin] was about to pull the trigger, a mana-charged dagger shot toward the back of his head.
"!!"
It was like a killing weapon thrown straight out of thin air.
If [Assassin] had not been used to fighting alone and killing alone in life, and because of that developed the habit of keeping watch on his surroundings even while aiming at a target...
Then he probably would not have noticed anything until the dagger had already pierced his skull.
Even though the other side had suppressed her presence to the absolute minimum, [Assassin] still caught the faint tremor in the air and the magical energy stirring within the silence.
He realized that while he had been aiming at someone else, he himself had already become a target.
[Assassin] spun around sharply and knocked away the dagger flying at him with a dagger of his own.
Then he saw her. A woman in black robes stepping out from the darkness of night.
"Just as Shirou predicted, you really were lying in wait here."
Hassan of the Hundred Faces stood atop the bridge, a sly smile showing beneath her skull mask.
[Assassin] kept a calm face, but inwardly he was badly shaken.
I've been discovered... no, I was ambushed!
Someone had anticipated his actions tonight in advance.
For [Assassin], this was something entirely unprecedented. Just who was this person called Shirou?
The answer was obvious. One of the people inside the sports car he had just been aiming at. That red-haired boy.
"Thanks for your hospitality back at the docks. So what should I call you, the other Assassin?"
The purple-haired woman in black robes was clearly an Assassin herself, yet she advanced on [Assassin] with the confident presence of a warrior.
And soon enough, [Assassin] understood where that confidence came from.
Hassan of the Hundred Faces flicked her arm, swept up her robe, and drew something long and slender from within.
It was a sword, glittering beneath the starlight and wrapped in magical energy.
How is this possible!?
[Assassin]'s eyes widened in disbelief.
There was no way he could have mistaken it.
The sword in Hassan of the Hundred Faces' hand... was a Noble Phantasm.
An overwhelming chill ran through [Assassin].
Why?
Why a sword?
He had never heard of any Hassan in the history of the Assassin Order who was famed for swordsmanship.
And according to [Assassin]'s own deduction, the Assassin in this Holy Grail War ought to possess some sort of duplication ability, a Noble Phantasm based on splitting into multiple bodies.
[Assassin] did not believe that the proud golden Archer would ever lend his treasures to someone else.
And yet the reality was right in front of him. The purple-haired woman had drawn a sword-type Noble Phantasm that completely did not suit her image.
There was no time to think about why. Assassin attacked.
Left with no better option, [Assassin] hastily threw up his beloved rifle to block.
The sniper rifle was split cleanly in two by the long sword, leaving behind a smooth, perfect cut.
Even though Hassan of the Hundred Faces possessed no martial training whatsoever, her raw Strength and Agility as a Heroic Spirit, combined with the sheer sharpness of the Noble Phantasm itself, were more than enough to make her dangerous.
[Assassin] leapt backward to avoid Hassan of the Hundred Faces' attack.
But the instant he landed, he sensed another presence.
From the darkness behind [Assassin], a huge man in black robes emerged.
Over 240 centimeters tall, built like a mountain of flesh. Gozul of The Strong was already waiting there, holding high a broad-bladed two-handed greatsword.
"Guh...!"
[Assassin] hurriedly twisted aside, barely dodging that heavy, crushing slash by a hair's breadth.
"Shhk."
The red steel framework of Fuyuki Bridge was cut apart like butter by the greatsword.
Gozul The Strong was far slower than Hassan of the Hundred Faces, and his swing contained no technique to speak of, but in terms of sheer Strength he might well have matched Saber when using Mana Burst.
In other words, that single blow had enough raw power to split the bridge in two.
Impossible...
A new Hassan, and a new Noble Phantasm.
[Assassin] sucked in a sharp breath. This was a development he had never anticipated.
But his long experience let him calm down quickly. First, kill the giant Hassan, slow-moving but immensely dangerous.
With that thought, [Assassin] growled out the incantation for his technique.
"Time Alter. Double Accel!"
Magical energy flashed through his body like an electric current, and [Assassin]'s entire presence changed in an instant.
Hassan of the Hundred Faces rushed in again from the side and launched another attack, but [Assassin] suddenly reacted at a speed far beyond before. He slipped past the dagger and then kicked her away.
After forcing Hassan of the Hundred Faces back, [Assassin] did not stop. He lunged straight at the slow-moving Gozul.
He sprang into the air, blade flashing.
Got him...!!
[Assassin] dropped from above, driving his dagger toward the crown of the giant Hassan's head.
"What?"
For the first time, [Assassin]'s expression wavered. The attack he had been sure would land was blocked cleanly.
Blocked by a third Hassan at the scene.
A new Hassan, Makule the Quick, appeared between [Assassin] and Gozul at unbelievable speed, a curved blade in each hand, and executed a flawless parry.
[Assassin] had no choice but to start retreating.
And while retreating, he saw a sight so bizarre it could only be called abnormal.
This was not [Assassin]'s first time taking part in a Holy Grail War.
In previous jobs, he had already experienced multiple Far Eastern rituals.
But only this time did [Assassin] feel completely dumbfounded.
Dozens of Hassans emerged one after another from the darkness of the night, each holding a sword Noble Phantasm in hand.
Two hundred years ago, a band of killers had once appeared in this country.
Its members possessed neither exceptional bodies nor famous ancient blades. They honed their martial skill in order to uphold their convictions.
The army of killers before him was the exact opposite of the Shinsengumi.
These Hassans had no swordsmanship to speak of, and yet each one held a gleaming Noble Phantasm.
[Assassin] did not believe those Noble Phantasms were originally theirs. This had already gone far beyond the scale an Assassin-class Spirit Origin ought to allow.
A host of Hassans possessing nearly a hundred different skills, each paired with a matching Noble Phantasm, a sword suited to that individual's ability.
Thus was born the strongest Assassin group in the history of the Holy Grail War.
Can't fight this at all. I'm leaving.
[Assassin] did not hesitate. He immediately decided to run.
"Don't think you're getting away!!"
Hassan of the Hundred Faces sensed his intent, shouted, and charged after him, slashing across the man's back.
"Time Alter. Square Accel!"
[Assassin], Kiritsugu Emiya, jumped into the rushing Mion River.