"This is all for me?" Ymi held the box—as big as a birthday cake—and looked up at Iskandar. Her opinion of the obnoxious giant had improved a fraction.
"I was planning to share it with Saber, but for some reason that triggered something I'm not allowed to bring up." Iskandar looked genuinely confused, picking exactly the wrong moment to be slow on the uptake.
Ritsuka took the cake out of the kitten's hands and peered through the transparent panel on the lid. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to poison my Ruler."
Chocolate flavor.
There was no guarantee Ruler wouldn't react badly. Some powerful Heroic Spirits in history and mythology could, surprisingly, be hard-countered by the most ordinary substances.
"This thing is poisonous? Modern people are remarkably devious. I really did pay good money for it this time." Iskandar crossed his arms, looking troubled.
"'This time?'" Ritsuka caught the word, and her eyes flicked between him and Waver a couple of times.
Lord El-Melloi knew what she was thinking—nine times out of ten it was this pairing has good chemistry too, doesn't it? But out of consideration for the King of Conquerors standing right there, Ritsuka was generous enough not to say it out loud. She crouched down, opened the cake box, and soothed the impatient kitten. "Hold on. I'll cut out the parts you can eat for you."
"Mm..." Ymi stood obediently to one side and waited.
Mrs. Iri, with perfect ease, slipped her hands around Ymi from behind and scooped her into her arms.
She didn't even resist. So good.
Reaching out to tease her a little.
"Sir Lancelot... so it was because of me that you were reduced to the point of being summoned as a Berserker?" At this point, Artoria had finally noticed Lancelot's class.
After all, every Servant—including the little Ruler-girl from the Extra Class—had now been revealed.
"Such words give me a headache, my king." Lancelot kept his head bowed. "For one such as I, who pushed Britain toward its ruin, the Saber class would be nothing but a mockery. Berserker is, naturally, the class best suited to a man like me."
"Have you always thought of yourself this way, Sir Lancelot...?"
"Hahahahaha— What a fine show this lot has put on for the King. As actors, I suppose I'll grudgingly grant you a passing grade." Vile words, accompanied by a flash of gold as the Servant materialized—the last guest invited by Iskandar, naturally.
"Archer..."
Gilgamesh narrowed his crimson eyes and looked down at the one he had not, in fact, expected to appear. "When you said it would be a banquet of kings, you, mongrel, instead invited some peculiar guests."
"Don't be like that. A narrow heart isn't befitting of a true king. I've actually been curious—you've looked at Ruler strangely from the very first day. Did her identity as one of the Four Horsemen frighten you?" Iskandar held out a chalice of wine without a care. "If you're late, you owe us a drink."
"What now—you, who dare to call yourself a king, can't even tell that this brat's Saint Graph is utterly different from what it should be?" Gilgamesh sniffed at the wine in the chalice, then in disgust pulled his own better vintage from a golden ripple and tossed it over.
"Forced into existence, as if she were fabricated specifically to be summoned—shoved onto a stage that was never meant to hold her, in the most unpleasant way possible."
"Saint Graph?" Iskandar took a sip of the wine he'd been handed. "Truly an exquisite vintage. But the Holy Grail is no wine cup. What kind of grand wish drives you to seek the Grail? You'll have to spell that out clearly."
Gilgamesh maintained his usual posture of arrogance. "Seek? An interesting choice of words. That thing was always mine to begin with. Every treasure in the world, traced to its source, comes from my vault. To claim it for yourself—the gall of a thief shouldn't go that far."
"This nonsense—if Caster were still alive, you should be sitting at his table." Saber, naturally, did not concede the point.
"The Grail was always—mine to begin with!" There was someone here with an even bigger grievance.
"That's right!" Even her Master was chiming in.
"Are you going to recite that judge's nonsense again, Ruler?"
"How do I put this—even saying it now, you're probably not going to believe me, but the Grail itself has a problem." Lord El-Melloi's signal had, evidently, finally come through.
"Who's that, sneaking around? Sir Lancelot's Master?" Saber scanned the surroundings warily.
"Even if you didn't see everything that happened yesterday, you must have noticed the Command Spells on Ruler's hand?" El-Melloi sighed in exasperation. "You can think of me as Fujimaru's teacher. As for our existence... think of us as people from the future. Saber's true Master must already have investigated and found that Fujimaru's identity doesn't actually exist."
That wasn't really proof of anything—even Kiritsugu Emiya was the kind of man who constantly used false identities.
"The very fact that a Ruler has appeared in this Holy Grail War means something has gone wrong. The Einzbern family should know this better than I do—the Servant you summoned in violation of the rules in the Third Holy Grail War contaminated the Grail."
Irisviel looked down, deep in thought for a couple of seconds. "Actually, we received word this morning that the head of our family was assassinated for reasons unknown. Nothing you've said is something I can verify."
"What?" That was outside Lord El-Melloi's expectations.
"People from the future? What a charming notion." Iskandar laughed for two beats, then smoothed his expression instantly. "But we have no reason to believe a sneak who won't even show his face, do we?"
"And here I thought I was being polite to you..."
It wasn't remotely persuasive, and El-Melloi wasn't surprised. Aside from killing Caster and forming a contract with Berserker, they hadn't managed any real feats—and that had been entirely on the back of Ruler's raw strength. As for the true names of every Servant: at this point in the timeline, that wasn't actually meaningful. Even if he'd been able to call them all on day one, it could be explained away as one of Ruler's Class Skills.
"Setting that aside, I'm curious—little Ruler, when you say the Grail is yours, what's your reasoning?" Iskandar turned his gaze to Ymi.
Ritsuka had finally finished cutting away the chocolate to keep for herself, while the kitten, with no manners at all, was about to grab her piece by hand.
"Let me feed you?" Irisviel intervened just in time.
"It's pretty obvious, isn't it? In legend, the 'Holy Grail' was originally just the cup the Son of God drank wine from." Ritsuka answered on Ymi's behalf.
"That's what she's saying, Archer." Iskandar looked over at Gilgamesh with delight, watching for his reaction.
"The Son of God... so that's the reason? Is your appearance, then, by the will of God Himself, to reclaim the Grail, Ruler?" Saber hesitated for a beat, then turned to Lancelot instead. "Sir Lancelot... what about you? With what wish have you come to this Holy Grail War?"
"My king, I wish only to receive your chastisement." Lancelot lowered his head reverently.