"The… King of Heroes of Uruk? Gilgamesh?!"
Artoria and Iskandar both showed looks of surprise.
As heroes whose names were recorded in history, of course they knew of this legendary king—two-thirds divine by blood, a half-god, half-man, the oldest Hero King.
His appearance meant far more than that of an ordinary Servant.
After a brief moment of shock, an even fiercer fighting spirit and curiosity burned in Iskandar's eyes.
"Hahaha! I didn't expect even the legendary First King to show up in this Holy Grail War. Now this is interesting!"
However, just as Gilgamesh was basking in what he believed to be everyone's awed gaze and getting ready to continue his "kingly declaration"—
Something changed again.
"Fsssh—!"
A dazzling golden beam of light, like a meteor tearing through the night sky, suddenly shot out from a certain window on the second floor of the mansion, brimming with overwhelming power.
Its target was Gilgamesh, standing in the courtyard!
The attack came far too suddenly and far too fast.
And the divine power contained within it was incredibly pure and overwhelmingly strong.
A flicker of genuine surprise flashed across Gilgamesh's crimson eyes.
But as a Servant, his reaction speed was also top-tier.
Almost a split second before the beam struck him, golden ripples spread out in the air behind his back—the Gate of Babylon opened at once!
A huge, ornate shield inscribed with ancient runes emerged from within and snapped precisely into place in front of the golden beam.
"Boom—!"
The clash between divine power and Noble Phantasm erupted in a violent shockwave and blinding flash of light. The trees in the courtyard shuddered, and the wine glasses on the table trembled slightly.
"Which mongrel dares to sneak-attack this king?!"
Gilgamesh flew into a rage.
The golden ripples of the Gate of Babylon instantly expanded several times over.
Dozens of treasures glinting with cold light poked their "heads" out, all aimed toward the direction the attack had come from.
To him, being ambushed while proclaiming his own identity was an immense insult.
A figure lightly leapt out from the second-floor window and landed on the branch of a tree in the courtyard.
It was Ishtar.
She had already changed into casual clothes more suited for moving around.
But the expression on her face—an even more obvious mix of disgust and contempt than before—was unmistakable.
Floating at her side was the heavenly bow that symbolized her status, Maanna; faint golden motes of light still clung to its bowstring.
"Hmph."
Ishtar curled her lip. Her voice was crisp but carried undisguised disdain.
"I could smell that overpowering stench of arrogance on you from miles away, Gilgamesh."
"What's wrong? Now that you've materialized as a Servant, you actually look even more disgusting than before."
"…It's you?!"
The anger on Gilgamesh's face was instantly replaced by sheer shock.
His crimson pupils narrowed slightly as he stared fixedly at Ishtar standing on the treetop.
That familiar divine aura, that bratty, arrogant tone…
"Ishtar? You troublesome goddess—why are you here?!"
He had clearly recognized this Venusian goddess of the Morning Star, a deity from his own era with whom he had more than a few… "encounters."
"Heh. If you get to come, why can't I?"
Ishtar folded her arms across her chest, looking down at Gilgamesh from above.
"The moment I saw you shining like a gaudy gold ornament, looking like you're dying to tell the whole world 'I'm amazing,' my fingers started itching."
Gilgamesh's shock had not yet subsided.
Another presence appeared beside Ishtar—cold, silent, yet equally laden with immense divinity.
Like a shadow thickening into shape, Ereshkigal silently manifested on the branch next to Ishtar.
Her gaze also fell upon Gilgamesh.
Unlike Ishtar's openly hostile disgust, her eyes were deeper and colder—like one looking upon an intruder who had stepped uninvited into the Underworld.
"…Gilgamesh."
Ereshkigal softly spoke his name, her voice like the chill wind of the underworld.
"The clamor of the surface has indeed drawn in a soul that should not exist."
"Ereshkigal?! You too…?"
Gilgamesh's shock this time was very real.
One goddess from his era appearing here was already a surprise.
Two goddesses with deep ties to him both showing up at once completely exceeded anything that could be called "normal" for a Holy Grail War.
His crimson eyes narrowed slightly.
His gaze traveled back and forth between Ishtar and Ereshkigal.
Finally, it shifted back to Rei Ao, who was sitting at the table watching like he was enjoying a show.
"I see…"
Gilgamesh seemed to have understood something.
The anger on his face slowly melted away, replaced by an expression tinged with mockery—and even greater interest.
"So this farcical Holy Grail War is even more 'lively' than this king had imagined."
"Even you beings who should have stayed behind in the Age of Gods have used some strange power to come out and join the circus."
"And that man over there…"
He looked at Rei Ao.
"To get these two troublesome goddesses to 'coexist under the same roof,' you really do have a bit of skill, mongrel."
For a moment, the atmosphere in the Tohsaka mansion's courtyard became incredibly eerie and tense.
The originally planned "Council of Three Kings," thanks to the forceful intervention of the Hero King Gilgamesh and the unexpected arrival of the Venus goddess Ishtar and the Underworld goddess Ereshkigal, had completely transformed into a divine gathering—one that crossed the boundary between the Age of Gods and human history, entangling a web of complicated relationships.
Artoria gripped her holy sword tightly, wary of a god-level battle breaking out at any second.
Iskandar, on the other hand, looked positively thrilled at this "grand event" that had far surpassed his expectations.
Waver's face had gone deathly pale; he clung tightly to Iskandar's cloak.
Rei Ao still sat calmly at the table.
He had somehow produced a cup from who-knows-where, scooped himself some of the fine wine Iskandar had brought, and took a light sip, as if simply enjoying a spectacular performance.
Under the moonlit sky of the courtyard—kings, heroes, goddesses…
All kinds of powers had been drawn together by fate.
The air was thick with the fragrance of wine—and the scent of gunpowder.
~~~
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