After the night's frantic upheaval, time slipped by in a blur—and before anyone realized it, morning had already edged toward noon.
In a secluded corner of Fuyuki City, deep underground where almost no one ever came, Waver—having just received Kayneth's message—led Iskandar through a narrow entrance and crawled inside.
"…This is really the place Professor Kayneth picked?"
The deeper they went, the thicker the darkness became. The air turned stale and filthy. Years of abandoned junk lay piled everywhere, sweating out a rotten, damp stench. It felt less like a hideout and more like a burrow.
It was basically the sewer from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Nothing about it fit the image Waver had of Kayneth.
In Waver's mind, Kayneth's "base" should have been a luxury hotel, a noble's manor—at the very least a detached villa. Instead, following the coordinates led him to what looked like an abandoned underground parking facility that had been dead for ages.
Waver was completely baffled.
How could someone like Kayneth tolerate placing a workshop in a place like this?
Even Waver—who wasn't exactly a refined aristocrat—felt sick crawling through that cramped entrance. How on earth had Kayneth endured it?
"Hm. The concealment is nearly perfect," Iskandar said beside him, sounding unexpectedly approving. He stroked his chin, taking in the terrain and the layout, and nodded with measured satisfaction. "If we're judging purely by stealth, choosing this as a base is clever."
Then he added, as if delivering a verdict:
"Not bad, kid. Your teacher is a man with wisdom."
"Huh?"
Waver's expression twisted. He stared at Iskandar as if he'd grown a second head.
"You don't think it's weird? If concealment is the goal, there are plenty of other options. And does he really need to go this far? Isn't the Holy Grail War supposed to be Servant versus Servant? Putting a base in a place like this feels kind of—"
"Overcautious. Excessive. Overkill. That's what you're trying to say, right?" Iskandar cut in, effortlessly finishing Waver's sentence before he could.
"…Yeah."
Getting interrupted like that was rude, and Waver didn't like it, but he'd spent two days with this red-haired gorilla of a king. He'd learned the hard way that modern manners meant nothing to ancient conquerors.
He sighed and admitted it.
He really did think it was overkill.
In Waver's mind, the Grail War was basically a strange—if dangerous—magical competition. He'd been stunned by the Servants, yes, but his worldview still hadn't fully adjusted. He was still treating it like an event with rules that kept things "contained."
Iskandar snorted.
"Last night you were one breath away from dying, and you've already forgotten the lesson." His voice hardened. "Kid, that kind of half-baked mentality will get you killed. If you keep thinking like that, you really might die in this war."
He didn't bother softening the blow.
"And don't forget—who was the one so terrified he wet himself?"
"I didn't wet myself! I told you that was sweat!"
Waver's face went red up to his ears. He shouted back, but even he could hear how weak his denial sounded.
This time Iskandar didn't drag the argument out. He spoke seriously—almost sternly.
"The Holy Grail War is still war. And the moment the word 'war' is involved, there is no such thing as simple or safe. You're too naive, kid. Do you really think last night's French Marshal was just an 'accident'? War isn't a game. It's a struggle to the death. The ones who lack vigilance and reverence die first."
Then he turned his judgment toward Kayneth's choices.
"Your teacher understands that. His grasp of information, his control of the situation, his concealment and planning—he's doing it right. That caution and precision are things you should learn. Because the Master of Iskandar cannot lose to anyone else."
Waver's shoulders sank.
"Hah? What are you even saying? Professor Kayneth is a Lord of the Clock Tower. A genius called a prodigy in the world of magecraft. How am I supposed to measure up to him?"
Iskandar sighed, looking down at Waver like he was hopeless. Then he flicked Waver's forehead.
"Ow! What was that for?!"
"Just trying to wake you up," Iskandar said, unrepentant. "And saying defeatist nonsense in war is a deadly habit, little Master. That teacher of yours may be formidable, but don't forget—he's also an enemy we'll have to face in the end. As the Master of the Conqueror King, you cannot show weakness so easily!"
"Even if you say that…" Waver muttered, still rubbing his forehead. "There's no way I can beat Professor Kayneth. The gap in talent and magical capacity is too huge. And… aren't we allied? He's not going to come after us, right?"
Iskandar's tone turned sharp.
"Idiot. I just told you—this is war, and war has only one victor. Even if we're allied now, once the other pairs are eliminated, we become enemies again. That's why you need to prepare now, understand? My little Master."
Waver hesitated, then frowned.
"…Even so. Challenging Professor Kayneth… can I really do it?"
Then he suddenly snapped, pointing accusingly.
"And I've told you a thousand times—just call me 'Master.' Stop putting 'little' in front of it!"
Iskandar burst into booming laughter.
"So that's what you're upset about? Fine—when you grow taller, we'll talk."
"What does height have to do with anything?!"
Their bickering echoed through the underground passages as they navigated the maze-like routes—until they finally reached the door to Kayneth's new base.
Inside, Kayneth could hear them coming from far away. His temple twitched. Veins threatened to appear.
No sense of danger at all.
And they were casually discussing how to defeat him right outside his workshop.
As if he were nothing.
If this were the old him, he would have stormed out and disciplined them on the spot.
But then he remembered his fate—remembered the plan he needed to execute—and exhaled in weary resignation.
If he intended to defy destiny, he needed their help. Like it or not.
Their voices drew closer.
Kayneth sighed, then gave his Servant an order.
"Bring those two inside. Don't let them loiter out there. I have something important to discuss."
"Understood, my lord."
Diarmuid nodded and immediately left the room.
About five minutes later…
Inside Kayneth's freshly constructed new workshop—no, not "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse," Waver, get it together—four figures of completely different builds, heights, hair colors, and presences were squeezed into a cramped space barely fifty square meters in size.
"So this is Professor Kayneth's workshop…" Waver whispered, eyes wide as he stared at the engraved formations and layered devices. Even without understanding every component, he could tell the sheer quality: the precision of the arrays, the interlocking spells, the rare materials.
He knew, with absolute certainty, that he would never be able to build something like this in his entire life.
For Kayneth, however, this was merely "barely usable."
He had erected it in a single morning under time pressure. In his eyes, the construction lacked polish. The details were rough. At best, it was a temporary foothold.
Iskandar, on the other hand, looked delighted—bright-eyed, almost childlike. He rubbed his hands together, openly coveting the mysterious Mystic Codes in the room, especially the core magical reactor.
"Ohhh! Little Master, this place has all kinds of interesting toys! Every one of them could be issued to my soldiers to strengthen them! And this furnace—this furnace is incredible!" He leaned toward it as if it were treasure. "I can feel outrageous magical energy inside! Thanks to it, my condition is superb—mana is overflowing, even my parameters have risen! I can feel it… I'm lacking nothing now!"
As instructed, Waver had already rerouted his own mana supply line into the reactor.
That single adjustment shattered the greatest limitation Iskandar had suffered so far: Waver's insufficient magical capacity.
With the reactor feeding him, Iskandar's shackles were gone.
He had returned to something frighteningly close to his peak.
At this state, he truly believed he could contest even Gilgamesh and Arthur again—head-on.
And for that reason, Iskandar's appreciation for Waver's teacher rose sharply. So sharply, in fact, that he immediately tried to recruit Kayneth into his army—complete with a promise to make him a grand general.
He'd even tried the same thing with Diarmuid earlier. Diarmuid had refused with unwavering loyalty: he served only Kayneth.
So in Iskandar's mind, recruiting Kayneth meant he could "get" Diarmuid too.
A bargain.
"…Keep dreaming."
Kayneth's eyebrow twitched violently.
He had just provided this king with mana, and the man immediately started eyeing his assets—Kayneth himself included—as loot to be carried off.
That shamelessness really did fit the conqueror who had swept across Persia, Egypt, and Greece.
Still, Kayneth refused to waste time arguing. This was not the moment for internal conflict.
He sighed, gestured for Waver to keep his Servant under control, and spoke with cold clarity.
"For concealment, I brought only one reactor from my family—this one. It supplies the workshop and supplies the Servants. I cannot give it to you. If you truly want it, then win the Holy Grail War first."
Then he changed gears, tone sharpening.
"We are gathered here for more important matters. The first night has passed. Our initial intelligence sweep is complete. Now we discuss strategy."
Iskandar didn't object.
He wanted the reactor badly, but he wasn't the kind of man who repaid a benefit by stabbing someone immediately. More importantly, taking the reactor now would cripple the alliance's supply and weaken himself and Diarmuid in the process.
That would be idiotic.
So he made a private decision instead:
Work with "Lemon-head" to eliminate the other pairs first… then find a way to take the reactor afterward.
Kayneth saw the gleam in his eyes and chose to ignore it.
He continued the briefing.
The identities of the other factions' Servants were now largely known.
Other than Arthur shifting from female to male, Gilgamesh looking slightly different, and the possibility that Bluebeard and Cú Chulainn had swapped Classes, the roster was mostly within expectation.
But at dawn, Kayneth's base had been attacked.
A red-cloaked Assassin—wielding modern firearms—had struck his hideout.
From Kayneth's observations and Diarmuid's report, the attacker was clearly different from the Hassan he had already dealt with.
Where had that Servant come from?
Kayneth had spent the morning thinking, and he had arrived at what felt like the most plausible explanation.
Only seven Servants should exist. Last night, when six Servants gathered in one place, Assassin was absent. Therefore, it was possible that the "modern gunman" was simply another split body of Hassan of the Hundred Faces—one specialized for firearms.
Of course, there were problems with that theory:
No skull mask.
Different attire.
And the attacker's combat ability seemed far superior to the other "faces."
Still—certainty was impossible right now.
What was certain was this:
Diarmuid had struck the attacker's arm with his Noble Phantasm, Gáe Buidhe, leaving a permanent wound that could not be healed by ordinary means.
Whether the target was truly Hassan or not, their fighting capacity had been severely compromised.
Which meant—
"I intend to take the initiative tonight," Kayneth said, looking directly at Waver and Iskandar. "We will set a trap."
He spoke with the calm of a man who had accepted that hiding forever was not a solution.
"Before the war began, our two teams formed an alliance. With the Conqueror King and Diarmuid—two top-tier Servants—we possess the greatest concentrated force currently in play. We must exploit that advantage before the other factions fully adapt."
Even after seeing his own future and becoming more cautious, Kayneth understood this truth:
If he wanted to break fate, he needed to seize momentum.
Only by taking the initiative could he shatter the chain around his throat.
Hesitation wouldn't save him.
"Oh? Sounds interesting," Iskandar said, stroking his chin, his expression turning serious. "Go on, Lemon-head. What's your plan?"
Waver didn't object.
He knew it wouldn't matter. Kayneth had brought him here for one reason: Iskandar.
In Kayneth's eyes, Waver still hadn't grasped the situation—or his own resolve—so arguing would be useless.
Kayneth laid out the analysis first.
"Ryūdō Temple is a stronghold—an Age of Gods workshop. A frontal assault is impractical. And that Caster may have performed an illegal summoning. It is not ideal as a first target."
He continued, methodical.
"The Tōsaka estate holds Gilgamesh, and it is entangled with Assassin. Engaging there now is also unwise. Berserker's location remains unknown."
His finger finally pointed to the outskirts:
"The Einzbern castle."
He looked around the room, voice turning decisive.
"Therefore, our target is clear."
He issued orders without hesitation.
"Lancer. Tonight, you will strike the Einzbern castle. Engage Arthur. Hold him. You must keep him occupied until we complete our objective."
Diarmuid's expression tightened.
"…A surprise attack."
"Decapitation," Iskandar said, sounding almost delighted.
Kayneth continued, gaze icy and unyielding.
"Rider. Waver. You will act with me. While Lancer pins down Arthur, we become the blade that pierces the castle. We eliminate Arthur's Master as quickly as possible and force his withdrawal. Do you understand?"
Iskandar, the warlord and strategist, nodded immediately.
The core was simple and sound:
Exploit the alliance's overwhelming strength on night two, kill off one of the greatest threats early, and do it by targeting the Master to secure success.
It wasn't "honorable," perhaps—but war did not reward honor. There was a reason Assassin existed as a Class. Victory wrote history.
And for Iskandar, the plan was also personally convenient. In exchange for Kayneth's mana supply, lending a hand cost him nothing.
But Diarmuid…
Diarmuid's face was complicated.
He wanted a knightly victory—an honorable duel, a frontal triumph against a great foe. He wanted to defeat Arthur with his own spear and sword, with dignity intact.
And yet—
Kayneth's words echoed in his mind.
"In this Holy Grail War, according to fate, I will die. My wish is to live—to change that cursed destiny."
At first, Diarmuid had doubted. But the seriousness in Kayneth's eyes had been unmistakable.
Kayneth had asked him, directly:
"Diarmuid—between your honor as a knight and your lord's life, which matters more?"
And then Kayneth had stated his will with brutal clarity:
"I will not fight this war as a tournament. No chivalric duels. No fair contests. My goal is one thing only: to live."
"Only the living have a future. Diarmuid, you speak of loyalty—do you have the resolve to sacrifice your pride to preserve your lord?"
Resolve…
The question dragged Diarmuid back to an ancient tragedy. To the pain that had never left him. To how many had suffered because of his stubbornness, his obsession, his refusal to bend.
He had sworn never again.
So—
"Please rest assured, my lord!"
Diarmuid lowered his head without hesitation and chose.
"I will hold Arthur. I will secure your victory!"
He bowed deeply, and his oath rang with steel.
"This time, I do not fight for honor. This time… I fight only to protect."
Every word carried unwavering determination.
In that moment, Diarmuid's path was clear.
Kayneth watched him, then nodded—quiet relief softening his mouth into the faintest smile.
"…Thank you."
Iskandar's lips curled upward as well, almost involuntarily.
A fine Master and Servant…
And without question, they would become a terrifying enemy after the alliance ended.
Yet even so, the thought of fighting alongside opponents of this caliber—after so many years—sent a thrill through Iskandar's blood.
His heart surged with the old hunger of conquest.
And the second night of the Holy Grail War, at last, began to take shape.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 90)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 95)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 80)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter70)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter70)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter50)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter60)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 30
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 30
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