Once upon a time, a woman achieved mastery of the Third Magic—Materialization of the Soul. In her life she took many students, but none succeeded in learning it. After her disappearance, her students, unwilling to let it die, created artificial humans modeled after their teacher. The only ones that could approximate the Third Magic at all were the beings known as the Winter Saints—and "approximate" meant once a decade, at best.
As generations passed, the students gave up one by one. Only the Winter Saints and the other artificial humans deemed failures kept going. This was the origin of the Einzbern family—one of the Three Founding Families of the Holy Grail War.
Fuyuki's Holy Grail was the ritual tool they had built to achieve the Third Magic and reach the Root. Reaching the Root was not just the Three Families' life work—it was the dream of every proper magus.
Of the four Holy Grail Wars fought, none had succeeded. The last two had failed because during the Third War, the Einzbern family had illegally summoned the extra-class Servant Avenger—All the World's Evil—and when the Grail absorbed his power, it was irrevocably tainted.
This Grail was somewhat different from the ones Ritsuka had collected from Singularities. This was all she'd had time to absorb, because—
"Doctor? Can you hear me?"
No response.
The signal had been crackling since yesterday—voices fragmenting in and out, cutting out entirely partway through El-Melloi's briefing on the War, and not coming back since.
Ritsuka stared at the ceiling for a while.
She woke up pinned—or that was what it felt like for a moment, the way people call it ghost-pressing-the-bed. Coming to properly, she found the culprit: a fluffy bundle sitting on her chest, weighing approximately one and a half Fous.
"Have I been neglecting your mana supply?"
She said "mana," but since forging the contract, Yimi hadn't asked for any.
She reached through the contract to check—not a pseudo-Servant like Mash, but not quite a standard Servant, either.
Ritsuka lifted the bundle aside and tied her braid in front of the mirror.
"It's this late already?"
She'd come to her senses well into the night, spent the rest of it finding lodging while hashing out the situation—Yimi's nature, and the specifics of the Fourth Fuyuki Holy Grail War—and hadn't gotten to sleep until well past midnight, plus the time lag between her timeline and this world's.
The daytime hardly mattered. The Holy Grail War was fought in secrecy; engagements happened in deserted areas or under cover of night.
"Ruler. Time to wake up."
In last night's brief sleep, Ritsuka had glimpsed something of Yimi's past—a perspective on horseback, chasing a speeding train, the kind that looked early 20th century. Heroic Spirits from that era generally had nothing to do with mythological creatures.
"Mm... braids."
Half-asleep, the girl pulled herself back into human form, dressed herself, shuffled to the vanity, climbed onto the chair, and began tying her hair in the mirror. Shakky had taught her this—worried she'd never manage on her own—though only the one style.
"Not staying as a cat today?" Ritsuka asked.
Cat form was convenient for reconnaissance, even if a cat with panda-like markings looked unmistakably like a Familiar.
Yimi shook her head, put on the hat Ritsuka had set out, and tucked her tail away.
If there was any chance she might need to shift back to human form at a moment's notice, she preferred not to be a cat. Transforming in public meant the hideous beginner combat gear—and no shoes.
Ritsuka drew the curtains and looked down from the hotel's height. "To have this kind of development in 1995... The Doctor always calls it a small city, but it's actually quite a nice view."
The only version she'd seen before had been on fire—not exactly a scenic tour.
Waking to find the sun already low was unsettling—but every other Master was probably running an equally unhealthy schedule for the sake of the War.
Ritsuka gathered herself and headed out with Yimi.
"Now that we know the Holy Grail is problematic—do you have any kind of plan, Ruler?"
"No."
"I—it can't be completely nothing. You appeared as a Ruler, didn't you?"
"Maybe something?" The cat tilted her head in thought.
"..."
A magnificently unconfident statement.
Rayshift was down. But since she'd actually managed to summon a Ruler, following established patterns, the likely prerequisite for going home was resolving the Holy Grail situation. Not that a half-rate magus could dismantle anything on her own.
"If El-Melloi's plan holds: keep at least three Servants alive, then find a way to dismantle the Great Grail."
"Fish bread!"
The shout pulled Ritsuka back from her thoughts. Yimi had wandered off and was standing on tiptoe at a food stall, fingers hooked over the edge of the counter, radiating want as clearly as a lighthouse.
She glanced at the display, then turned to look at Ritsuka with pleading eyes.
After the last world, Yimi had at least learned that things needed to be paid for.
"Not 'fish bread,' little one—it's taiyaki." The vendor corrected her warmly and looked at Ritsuka. "How about it? Can I interest you in something for the little lady? Very tasty."
"Two, please." Ritsuka paid.
Where did the money come from?
Don't ask too many questions.
"Mm. Head pat." Yimi pushed her head toward Ritsuka's hand.
Being petted first meant eating someone else's food with a clear conscience.
"Of course." Ritsuka could almost see a little Bond +1 float up above Yimi's head.
I absolutely have to try summoning her when I get back to Chaldea. Assuming I can.
"We've formed a contract—at least tell me about your Noble Phantasms."
Yimi checked her Status Panel and read out the one she understood least. "There's one called 'My Lord Is Here.'"
That sounds so familiar! You're Jeanne d'Arc's otherworld counterpart, aren't you?
Yimi bit into the taiyaki—and discovered it was absolutely not fish-flavored bread. Her expression soured on the spot. She pushed it into Ritsuka's hand.
Not a matter of good or bad—more like biting into what you expected to be a sweet zongzi and getting the savory kind. The gap between expectation and reality.
Yimi sniffed the air. "Master—there's magical energy."
"Lancer challenging someone, probably. El-Melloi mentioned something about that yesterday. Let's go."
"Oh!"
Diarmuid Ua Duibhne—a man who really knew his stuff, appearing in this Holy Grail War as Lancer.
Tragically, his Master Kayneth had intended to summon the King of Conquerors, Iskandar—but the relic serving as the catalyst had been stolen by Kayneth's own student, forcing a last-minute substitute.
"Fujimaru—can you hear me?"
Thinking of everything El-Melloi had told her yesterday, Ritsuka couldn't help herself. "With a student like that—Kayneth really drew the short end of the stick. A true family misfortune... oh—Lord El-Melloi."
"..."
Possibly bad signal. El-Melloi had gone quiet again. This communication link was genuinely infuriating.