The discussion inside the Tohsaka residence had just come to an end.
The air still held the lingering mix of embarrassment and anger from Ishtar and Ereshkigal over the bathroom incident, along with the heavy tension brought on by the news of the "extra Servants."
That quiet, strained atmosphere was soon shattered by a loud, rough voice booming from outside the mansion, a shout powerful enough to scatter the night fog.
"Saber—! King of Knights, Artoria! Will you come out and speak with me?!"
The voice was filled with boldness and an unquestionable sense of power.
It pierced straight through the bounded field around the Tohsaka estate and rang clearly in the ears of everyone inside.
Artoria's emerald eyes sharpened at once.
Her instincts as a Servant pushed her into full alert in an instant.
Without the slightest hesitation, the invisible barrier of the Wind King's Enchantment rippled faintly.
The holy sword that symbolized the glory of the King of Knights was already in her hand, though the blade itself remained hidden within swirling air.
She gave a small nod to the people inside, then her body flashed forward like lightning, leaving an afterimage as she shot out through the front gate.
In the courtyard, moonlight spilled down like liquid silver.
There, an ancient and imposing war chariot floated a few inches above the ground, drawn by two magnificently muscled, divine-looking bulls.
Standing tall upon the chariot was a figure as massive as a mountain.
He wore a simple modern T-shirt beneath a heavy fur coat.
Short red hair like burning flame, a thick beard, and eyes blazing with the fire of conquest and grand ambition.
It was Rider, the King of Conquerors, Iskandar.
Hunched a little behind him, looking cramped and uneasy, was his Master: the young boy Waver Velvet.
Right now, Waver was clutching the edge of the chariot in nervousness, clearly uncomfortable with Rider's choice to come "call them out" so directly.
"Rider?"
Artoria stood poised with her sword, posture straight and firm.
Her wary gaze swept over Iskandar and his chariot.
"Visiting this late at night—what business do you have?"
"If it's a declaration of war, I am ready anytime."
"Ahahahahaha!"
Iskandar burst into thunderous laughter and waved a hand.
"No, no, nothing like that."
"King of Knights, the moon is fine tonight. I, this king, have come bearing fine wine—not for battle, but to convene a council of kings!"
"To share good drink under the moon with worthy opponents, and freely discuss each of our paths as kings and our aspirations—is that not a splendid thing?"
As he spoke, he slapped the side of a huge wooden barrel next to him. It was clearly filled with rich, fragrant liquor.
Artoria frowned slightly.
A council of kings?
Holding something like that during a Holy Grail War—an event that seemed elegant on the surface but was riddled with uncertainty—struck her as unwise.
She was just about to refuse when a calm voice sounded behind her.
"Sounds like a good idea, Iri. Accept it."
Rei Ao was somehow already standing at the mansion entrance.
He leaned against the doorframe, a faint, amused smile on his lips.
His eyes passed over Iskandar and Waver, then finally settled on Artoria. He gave her a small nod.
Seeing Rei Ao, Artoria relaxed just a fraction.
There was still doubt in her eyes, but out of trust in his judgment, she dismissed her sword and let it fade from her hand, silently signaling her agreement.
Iskandar's gaze shifted to Rei Ao.
Some of the hearty laughter faded from his face, replaced by a hint of scrutiny and seriousness in his eyes.
He could tell that this seemingly ordinary man carried neither magical energy nor the unique aura of a Servant.
Yet he gave off a sense of unfathomable depth, like staring into a boundless sea.
Waver had noticed Rei Ao as well.
Hiding behind Iskandar, he whispered,
"Rider, that guy… he's not a Master—he doesn't have any Command Spells—and he's not a Servant either…"
Iskandar didn't turn around.
His eyes stayed locked on Rei Ao as he rumbled,
"Boy, you can't judge a man by appearances alone."
"He may be neither Master nor Servant, but…"
He paused, his tone more serious than ever.
"He's a powerful man whose depths you cannot see."
"In my life spent roaming battlefields, that kind of feeling is never wrong."
Rei Ao neither affirmed nor denied Iskandar's evaluation.
He simply smiled and said to Artoria,
"Saber, go bring out a table and a few chairs."
"Since the King of Conquerors wants to 'sit and talk,' we can't be the ones lacking in manners."
Artoria gave Rei Ao a look.
She still thought it was strange to drink with an enemy Servant in her own yard, but she turned back into the house without protest.
Soon, in the spacious Japanese-style garden of the Tohsaka residence, a low table and several chairs were set out under the moonlight.
Iskandar, without the slightest restraint, thumped his barrel of wine down beside the table.
Rei Ao, Artoria, and Iskandar took their seats.
Waver stood somewhat stiffly behind Iskandar, doing his best to shrink his presence.
However, just as Iskandar was about to open his mouth and begin this "council of kings"—
A voice, even more arrogant, as if it trampled the entire world underfoot, suddenly rang through the courtyard without warning.
"Mongrels!"
"A council of kings without this king present, and you dare call it a council of kings?"
"What a colossal joke!"
Golden particles of light gathered rapidly to one side of the courtyard, like summoned subjects answering a call.
When the light faded, the figure of Gilgamesh, clad in golden armor, appeared in all his arrogance.
His crimson eyes, full of boundless contempt, swept over everyone present.
They finally landed on the barrel of wine and the three seated figures, his face twisted with scorn and displeasure.
"Who are you?!"
Artoria once again dropped into a combat stance in an instant.
Her holy sword had yet to fully take form, but her sharp killing intent was already locked onto Gilgamesh.
This golden Servant radiated an extreme sense of danger.
His arrogance and overwhelming power were both something to be wary of.
Iskandar stroked his thick, knotted beard, eyeing Gilgamesh with great interest.
With a booming laugh he said,
"Oh? Another king, is it?"
"Judging from that blinding outfit and that infuriating tone of yours—are you Archer? Or maybe that skulking Assassin?"
He clearly hadn't recognized Gilgamesh's true identity, and could only guess between the unknown Archer and Assassin.
Gilgamesh reacted as if he'd just heard the most ridiculous thing in the world.
He let out a cold, superior snort.
Lifting his chin, he spoke in a tone like he was proclaiming an absolute truth to the world:
"Ignorant rabble, listen well!"
"I am the king who reaches back to the distant Age of Gods, who ruled the first city, Uruk, and gathered every treasure under heaven into my vault—the oldest of kings, the King of Heroes: Gilgamesh!"
"Mongrels, to be allowed to witness my radiance at all is already the greatest honor of your worthless lives!"