Chapter 231: Where Did the Servant Go?
Summoning a Servant and giving form to the souls of heroes is the foundation of the Holy Grail War.
It is also the one task every Master must complete before the war begins.
Yet the process itself is not complicated.
Because, in truth, it is not the Master who summons the Servant.
It is the Greater Grail.
Whether it is drawing soul records from the Throne of Heroes or from the world itself, whether it is constructing the Spirit Origin that anchors the Servant, or providing the vast prana needed to make that existence endure, all of it is handled by the Greater Grail embedded in the leylines of Fuyuki.
What the Master provides is comparatively small.
A suitable ritual for descent.
A catalyst, a relic that pinpoints a hero's identity.
And the prana needed to connect the descending Servant to the Master's Command Spells.
For Tokiomi Tohsaka, the current head of the Tohsaka family, one of the Three Founding Families and the steward of Fuyuki's leylines, that cost was negligible.
So the summoning was swift.
In the ritual chamber beneath the Tohsaka basement, the chant echoed against stone. The mercury lines of the magic circle pulsed as if burning, and a brilliant light flooded the underground space.
"Silver and iron as the base."
"Stone and the contract of the earth."
"My ancestor, my teacher, Schweinorg."
The incantation inherited by the Tohsaka line flowed without hesitation, each phrase locked into place like a key turning.
"Come forth, guardian of the scales."
"Through the argument of suppression."
"By the seven heavens and the three great words that bind you."
Light flared.
Then condensed.
Then opened.
"Kirei, it is a success," Tokiomi said.
He stood before the circle in his well fitted red suit, listening to his disciple at his side. His expression shifted, and a quiet satisfaction surfaced.
It worked.
Which meant one thing.
"Victory is within reach, Kirei."
"Yes, Teacher."
Kotomine Kirei stood a step away. The mercury lines had already burned down into dark traces.
As another Master, Kirei's own summoning had also completed. But compared to Tokiomi's spectacle, his was nearly silent.
After all, it was an Assassin.
Under normal circumstances, among the seven standard classes, Assassin was the least suited for direct combat.
Tokiomi did not linger on it. To him, Kirei was a channel, proof of connection between the Tohsaka household and the Kotomine Church.
A tool for cheating.
He did not need his disciple to dominate the battlefield.
Because Tokiomi had absolute confidence in the Servant he had called.
He lifted his chin, voice measured, ceremonial.
"Summoned by the first shedding of the serpent in the lands of Mesopotamia."
"The most ancient hero."
"King Gilgamesh."
"I welcome you."
The burning light faded, and a figure stood where the circle had been.
Golden hair.
Crimson eyes that looked like judgment.
A tall frame wrapped in gold armor, and a face sculpted in cold arrogance.
The king of the oldest civilization. A monarch who treated history as his personal property.
Even as a Master, even as the one who had called him, Tokiomi bowed his head with careful respect.
"Great and ancient Hero King, please allow me to explain."
"Silence, mongrel," Gilgamesh said.
His voice was a blade.
"Who permitted you to speak without this King's permission?"
A pressure exploded outward, filling the chamber. Tokiomi froze, unable to move. It was not only fear. It was the simple fact of being crushed by presence.
Kirei's forehead dampened with sweat.
He had studied at the Clock Tower. He had seen monsters wearing human faces.
But this was different.
This was the weight of a king who remembered the Age of Gods as if it were yesterday.
"This King governs all creation," Gilgamesh continued. "The world is this King's garden, and all things are this King's possessions."
"You summoned me with the filthy intent of using me to plunder what is mine, then tried to deceive me with words."
"Your sin cannot be repaid even if you die ten thousand times."
The air trembled.
Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the crushing aura loosened.
Gilgamesh gave a cold laugh.
"Hmph. Though you are a clown coveting my treasures, I will spare you for now."
"But remember this."
"That treasure is an important item for this King's reunion with a friend."
Tokiomi exhaled, forcing his heartbeat back into order. His expression grew even more solemn.
Strong Servants always came with claws.
This one came with a crown and a guillotine.
After a brief hesitation, Tokiomi probed carefully.
"The friend you mentioned, do you mean the Sage of Uruk, Rowe?"
"Indeed," Gilgamesh snapped, then caught himself.
"Hmph. That barking wild dog."
Gilgamesh crossed his arms, golden light shimmering along his armor.
"This King resides in an eternal realm."
"I answered your summons to punish that disobedient, self exiled stray."
Tokiomi opened his mouth to speak again, then stopped.
His expression tightened.
He felt it.
A presence, brazen and unrestrained, announcing itself to the night.
Gilgamesh felt it too.
"It seems you sensed it," Tokiomi murmured, voice low. "That provocation."
Gilgamesh threw his head back and laughed.
"Excellent."
"A grand ceremony, a proper stage."
"As a reunion between this King and a friend, it is perfect."
He spread his arms like a ruler welcoming worship.
"Oh King, please calm yourself," Tokiomi began. "Striking first before the war officially begins is unwise."
Gilgamesh raised his hand.
And lifted his middle finger.
"This King calm down? You idiot."
The words fell like a slap.
Then Gilgamesh dispersed into golden spirit particles and vanished, leaving Tokiomi staring at empty air.
A long silence followed.
Tokiomi blinked.
"What a unique king."
Kirei, still on the side, murmured without thinking.
"Like you?"
A deep voice answered him, resonant with amusement.
"Hoo hoo. Perhaps."
"But compared to them, this old man is merely a weak Assassin."
"Pay no mind."
Weak?
Kirei's thoughts flickered back to the towering figure that had flashed into existence for him alone during the summoning.
He kept his face calm.
If that was weak, then Kirei was less than dust.
He turned to Tokiomi.
"Teacher."
"My father sent word."
"Rowe has appeared near the Fuyuki Bridge, openly broadcasting his existence."
"It is not only King Gilgamesh."
"Several Servants have been drawn in."
That was the advantage of cheating.
Tokiomi inhaled, steadying himself.
"Use this."
"Gather as much information as possible on the other Servants."
"And as for Gilgamesh…"
Tokiomi's jaw tightened.
"Leave him be."
In truth, he had no other choice.
And the irony was sharp.
The Holy Grail War, officially a seven day ritual of controlled slaughter, had not even begun.
Yet the board was already on fire.
…
No matter what they decided, they could not stop Rowe.
After leaving the Kotomine Church, he had gone straight to the riverside near the Fuyuki Bridge, to the container yards along the Matsuensawa River that cut through the city.
There, in the deep night, he stood openly.
His presence, loud as a siren, declared him a Servant to anyone on the hidden side with senses sharp enough to listen.
He was here to seek death.
So he made himself as unbearable as possible.
His true name was already known.
Waiting was pointless.
If someone wanted to test the weakness he was advertising, then let them come early.
He had even chosen a role that looked manageable.
A magus.
A sage.
A Caster.
Rowe stood in a linen robe, eyes half closed, letting the river wind brush past him.
He could feel eyes.
He could feel attention sliding over him from a distance.
"Rowe, is it?"
"Yes," a quiet voice replied. "According to the wiretaps near the Kotomine Church, that name is correct."
High above the containers, a man watched from shadow.
Kiritsugu Emiya.
The magus killer, an outsider hired by the Einzbern, one of the Three Founding Families.
He understood what the name Rowe implied.
A wise man. A hero. A conqueror. A god.
Depending on the record, any one of those was enough to flatten the modern world.
"Keep watching, Maiya," Kiritsugu said, pressing the communicator embedded in his ear.
He cut that channel, then tapped into another.
A familiar voice answered, bright and confident.
"Hello? Kiritsugu? We are already planning to leave. The plane tickets are bought."
"Once you arrive, find somewhere to live," Kiritsugu said. "It does not need to stand out, but do not go out of your way to hide either."
"Don't worry. I am super skilled," the woman said proudly. "I have played stealth games too."
Kiritsugu almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his tone hardened.
"Reality is not a game."
"Be careful."
"You be careful too, Kiritsugu."
"I will," Kiritsugu said.
Then he added, quieter.
"You too, Illya."
He held the cigarette at his lips, not yet lit, listening for the next words.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Illya said.
"What?" Kiritsugu paused.
Unease slid into his chest like ice.
"Lancer is gone."
"But she left a note. She said…"
"I sensed his presence."
"I am going to see him."
"To see the mentor of my path as a king."
"If there is a chance, I will personally bring the Holy Grail back for Miss Illyasviel."
Kiritsugu's hand trembled.
For one heartbeat he wanted to crush the earpiece in his palm.
Do you think this is a fan meeting? he wanted to scream.
Do you think the Holy Grail is a souvenir?
The war had not started, and he had already lost his Servant.
He glanced at the red Command Spells on the back of his hand.
Then dismissed the thought.
Command Spells could force obedience from many heroes.
They did not bind a true king.
Kiritsugu exhaled a thin stream of smoke, staring into the night sky.
For a moment, the desire to abandon everything and return to warmth was almost unbearable.
"Oh," Illya added, as if speaking of something small.
"I dreamed you came back last night, Kiritsugu."
Kiritsugu closed his eyes.
Sure.
I will buy a ticket and return right now.
Like hell I will.
But Kiritsugu did not know he was not alone.
He was not the only one whose Heroic Spirit had gone missing.
…
"Sola, still no news of Saber?"
"None," the red haired woman replied, voice sharp with contempt. "Not even a trace."
"And you call yourself a genius of the Department of Mineralogy, yet you cannot handle even this?"
"You bragged about summoning the strongest class."
"You said a rural ritual like this could be treated as a trip."
"Now I am afraid you cannot even take the trip, Lord Kayneth."
In London, within the Clock Tower, Kayneth El Melloi Archibald's smile was strained.
He was a department head, a lord of the modern magical world, and at this moment he looked like a man begging a verdict from his own fiancée.
He truly had not expected it.
He had obtained a fragment tied to the Scourge of God who had once crushed Europe, intending to summon a powerful hero.
The moment the Servant arrived, a surge of prana detonated through the chamber, stunning everyone present.
Then the Servant left.
Kayneth never even saw the face.
Worse, the Master and Servant contract shattered on the spot.
Only an urgent, cold voice lingered in Kayneth's ears.
"Evil civilization must be destroyed."
"Rowe, Evil civilization."
"Reclaim the kiss."
Sola's stare could have killed him.
"Answer me," she snapped. "Are we still going to Fuyuki?"
"No," she continued, before he could speak. "We lost a catalyst. Then we lost a Servant. We should not go."
"No," Kayneth said, forcing steel into his tone. "Of course we go."
He looked at the red Command Spells on his hand.
"I can still sense a vacant seat."
"We will summon another Servant."
"This time I will not allow them to escape."
Half a day later, inside the Department of Mineralogy building, the newly arrived Servant stared at the binding layers being placed on him, then at Kayneth, who had his back turned and was boasting to Sola.
Diarmuid blinked.
Then, misunderstanding the situation completely, he thrust his spear forward.
That day, rumors spread across the Clock Tower.
They said Lord Kayneth ran across half the academic district because his hemorrhoids ruptured.
Meanwhile, his runaway Servant stood on the shore, staring at an endless sea.
White hair pulled by the wind.
Dark skin smooth under moonlight.
She looked lost.
How do I get there?
A red dress fluttered into view beside her, blooming like a rose.
The woman wearing it stepped closer and offered her hand.
"Hmm? Are you also a Servant?"
"You have Rowe's aura too."
"Come with me."
"My name is Nero Claudius."
"A Servant summoned by the world."
"Outside the seven classes."
"My class is Emperor."
…
"There is an anomaly in the Greater Grail," a voice murmured in the dark. "The number of Heroic Spirits has exceeded the norm. There appears to be an eighth class beyond the seven."
"Yanya, we must summon early."
"But I am not ready yet…"
"If you are scared, run," the old man sneered. "Just like before."
"I gave up on you long ago, Matou Yanya."
"I still have that child adopted from the Tohsaka."
"In a few days, she will be ready for the worm pit."
"No," Yanya pleaded. "Please do not hurt Sakura. I can…"
"Grandfather, Uncle," a small voice said. "Why are you not sleeping yet?"
The room went still.
Then the old man's gaze snapped to the back of the girl's hand.
"Wait."
"What is that?"
A thunderous crash shattered the Matou residence.
A colossal black giant stood amid splintered beams and collapsing walls, muscles bulging like carved stone, black hair wild.
He stepped forward and crushed the worms underfoot.
"Fuck you," he growled.
"I really hate worms."
Matou Yanya stared.
On the giant's shoulder sat a small girl, legs dangling casually.
Tohsaka Sakura.
No.
Matou Sakura.
Yanya's expression twisted through disbelief, then into something like joy.
"Heracles," a graceful voice said from a dark crevice across from the ruined mansion. "The great hero of Greece."
"Interesting."
A tall woman stepped out, elegant and lethal. The Queen of the Land of Shadows opened her eyes.
"That man."
"I finally found him."
A second voice echoed inside her, intimate and irritable.
"Skaði, are you happy?"
"Why are you asking if I am happy?"
"If you are not happy, I will not let you come out, alright?"
"Ugh…"
"H happy."
The coexistence within one body steadied.
Her gaze turned toward the Matsuensawa River.
A perfect smile bloomed.
"Long time no see."
"Let me see if your martial skill is still far above mine."
…
Under the same sky, others looked up as well.
"The weather is nice tonight," someone murmured.
In the Amaterasu Shrine in Tokyo, three fluffy tails swayed in bright moonlight. A beautiful figure in layered robes swung her fair legs gently, smiling.
"Are you truly not going to report to Lady Consort Yu from Divine Land?" a timid girl asked.
The girl wore a square hat.
"Of course not," the three tailed woman said, rubbing her head. "Believe me, Xu Fu."
"Can we not do this ourselves?"
"You were once the first Divine Emperor of the Eastern Sea."
"You lived as a human until now."
"In terms of strength, you are above me, and I am only here in a degraded state."
"If you cannot handle this, then that Taiyi will not want you, understand?"
Xu Fu swallowed, then nodded hard.
"You are right."
"Then I will listen to you, Lady Amaterasu."
The red glow of Command Spells lit the back of her hand.
"Please, temporarily, become my Servant."
"That is a given."
Amaterasu's smile widened, sharp as a fox's hunger.
Consort Yu had told her to cooperate, to protect Rowe from those who coveted him.
But foxes preferred to eat alone.
Still, the opponents this time were troublesome.
Rumor said an Earth Mother Goddess named Ereshkigal from Divine Land had also found her sister, a Mistress of Heaven from another pantheon.
None of them were simple.
…
"Gil, Rowe, it seems we will meet soon."
"Lord Enkidu, wait for me."
"Ata, you are too slow. At this rate, it will take forever to reach Fuyuki."
"But it will be fine. Artemis will guide us from the sky."
"I am not afraid of getting lost."
…
The night breeze stayed gentle.
Rowe could sense the shifting currents across the world, but he did not care.
Acquaintance or stranger, it did not matter.
They all carried wishes.
So conflict was inevitable.
Rowe stood by the river and waited.
He waited for hidden observers to lose patience.
He waited for approaching Servants to arrive.
Then a voice cut through the night, loud with contempt.
"AHAHAHAHA."
"You stray dog."
"When you meet this King, you should prostrate yourself."
A golden light condensed on a street lamp between the containers.
A tall figure stood on it as if it were a throne.
Gilgamesh crossed his arms and looked down at Rowe.
"To see the King and not bow is a crime."
"A crime punished by ten thousand deaths."
"Crime my ass," Rowe said, and raised his middle finger.
"You goddamn…"
Gilgamesh's retort died in his throat.
Because chaotic mist rippled up from the base of the street lamp.
Not the Gate of Babylon.
Something older.
Something heavier.
The power of the chaos core.
The ground beneath the lamp turned soft like a swamp. The lamp sank. Gilgamesh sank with it, fast enough that he barely had time to react.
In a blink, only his upper body remained above the surface.
The king who had arrived to look down now had to look up.
Rowe crouched.
His smile was bright, almost boyish.
"I have been looking forward to this for a long time, Gilgamesh."
He reached out and rubbed Gilgamesh's head like he was patting a bewildered dog.
It was, without question, satisfying.
.....
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