"Saber… are you back?"
At the Einzbern castle—
Because enemies meeting again only sharpen old hatred, Arthur had been pinned down by Gilgamesh from night straight into morning. Only now did he finally shake off that infuriating pursuer and return to his base.
The moment he stepped inside, Irisviel and Bedivere—who had been tense with worry—both exhaled in relief and hurried forward.
"Don't worry," Arthur said, shaking his head. "I'm fine."
Gilgamesh was terrifyingly strong, yes—but Arthur was no weaker. In other worlds, he had defeated the King of Heroes before. There was no chance he'd be injured by nothing more than a first-night probing clash.
Irisviel finally released the breath she'd been holding. Bedivere, meanwhile, couldn't help a quiet awe:
As expected of the King. No matter the world, the King of Knights remains overwhelming… even against Gilgamesh.
Irisviel hesitated, then asked what had been lingering in her mind.
From her perspective last night, Gilgamesh hadn't merely "fought"—he had fixated, relentlessly targeting Arthur as if it were personal. Yet she couldn't understand how. One was tied to Britain, the other to Mesopotamia—separated by more than a millennium. Where could that hatred have been born?
Arthur sighed, and the shadow in his eyes deepened—like someone recalling a nightmare he'd never fully escaped.
He explained simply.
In another timeline, another Holy Grail War, the two of them had once again stood as Saber and Archer, and fought with a savagery that bordered on obsession. Arthur, armed with superior information—and a measure of fortune—had managed to defeat Gilgamesh in a battle that could have gone either way, and in doing so, he had prevented a catastrophe on a massive scale.
That should have been the end of it.
But for reasons he did not fully elaborate, both of them retained their memories of that war. And now, by some cruel coincidence, they had met again under a Grail's summons.
So the "bloodshot-eyed hatred" made sense: Gilgamesh wasn't here for the Grail. He was here to reclaim a victory he believed was stolen by carelessness.
Irisviel and Bedivere could only marvel.
A rival from a previous Grail War—appearing again in this one. Fate, coincidence… or something worse.
Arthur didn't deny it. If there truly was "fate," then his bond with Gilgamesh was certainly not a blessing.
More like a curse.
Because it touched on matters Arthur clearly considered private, Irisviel and Bedivere didn't push further. It was enough to understand this: Gilgamesh was a wall Arthur would have to climb—no matter what.
Then Irisviel brought up something else—carefully.
Did Arthur want her to hand over "that important thing"?
Arthur's refusal was immediate.
He knew exactly what she meant:
Avalon—the sword sheath belonging to this world's Arthur.
Arthur himself also possessed Avalon, but in his case it had already fused with his Holy Sword of the Star and was always with him. The problem was that due to the Thirteen Seals, he could not yet unleash Avalon's absolute "severing of space-time" defense at full power—though even restricted, it still provided frightening endurance and support.
Yes—taking this world's Avalon would give him a larger advantage.
But Bedivere had already explained Irisviel's condition to him. Arthur understood what Avalon meant for her.
And more than that—he was Arthur. A king. A knight. He had pride, and faith in his own blade.
If gaining advantage required his Master to shoulder a lethal risk, then he would rather fight without it.
So he said, without hesitation:
"No. Master. Even without this world's sheath, I can defeat Gilgamesh and every other enemy—and secure final victory for you."
Irisviel and Bedivere respected his resolve, and did not insist.
With most Servants already identified, the war's outline had become clearer. Yet the biggest surprise to Arthur was this:
This war's Caster was not Morgan, as expected, but Cú Chulainn—an old opponent.
Arthur hadn't expected to meet him here again, and in the Caster Class no less. Unlike Gilgamesh, however, Cú Chulainn did not seem to carry memories from their prior conflicts—an oddly disappointing detail.
At the same time, Arthur was quietly grateful.
If the Caster had truly been Morgan of this world, he would have preferred fighting almost anyone else.
After confirming Arthur was uninjured and that the first night had "ended" without disaster, Irisviel finally voiced a wish she'd been holding back:
She wanted Arthur to take her out.
She wanted to see the outside world.
She wanted to see the sea.
Not long after—Fuyuki City.
"Master… how do you feel?"
A handsome blond man in a white suit—the very image of a prince from a fairy tale—looked at Irisviel beside him.
Irisviel was practically glowing.
"It's wonderful… Saber. This is my first time outside the castle. Everything is new. Everything is incredible."
She clasped her hands together, mimicking gestures she'd learned from tourist guides, eyes bright as she stared at the crowds and shops.
For her—born and raised in a frozen castle, cut off from the world—this city was freedom itself.
Her smile was pure.
Unfiltered.
Like snowlit sunlight.
Arthur… froze.
That smile stirred something deep and painful inside him—because once, long ago, he had fought to protect smiles like that.
And he had failed.
Guinevere. Britain. His people.
He had saved none of them.
The shame, the frustration, the hatred for his own helplessness—those old wounds rose again.
And yet… the same smile also gave him something he hadn't felt in a long time:
Comfort.
Since Britain's collapse, Arthur had drifted across worlds like a wandering blade, summoned and dismissed, fighting battles that weren't his. And now, seeing Irisviel's happiness—so uncomplicated, so sincere—he found a rare warmth in his heart.
He remembered what Bedivere had told him about Irisviel's fate.
And he made a decision.
This time, he would win.
Not for his own vanished dream. Not for a mirage of the past.
But to protect that smile.
He would win the Grail, and wish that his Master could become an ordinary person—free of the cruel destiny forced upon her—able to live quietly, peacefully, happily.
"Saber, hurry! Let's go look over there!"
Irisviel turned back, smiling brightly at the Arthur who had just steeled his heart.
But Irisviel—still innocent of the world—didn't realize how devastating her beauty was to ordinary passersby.
White dress. White hair. Red eyes. A pure, spotless presence.
She looked like a snow-born fairy dancing through the winter.
And beside her walked Arthur—so handsome, so noble in bearing, that he might as well have stepped out of a legend.
People stopped.
They stared.
The Holy Grail War had begun. Masters and Servants lurked in the shadows, plotting. Going out in broad daylight was obviously unwise.
But Arthur couldn't bring himself to deny her this small request.
Not after knowing her life.
Not after knowing her end.
Besides—it was daytime, when combat was usually avoided, and he was with her.
Still, Arthur maintained absolute vigilance. His attention never left Irisviel. His body remained tense, ready to erupt into battle at any instant.
"Come on, Saber—don't look so worried. Mr. Lucius said as long as we're careful, nothing will happen."
Irisviel tried to cheer him up.
Then she smiled mischievously.
"And maybe we can eat something! I've never tasted food from outside. Mr. Lucius even limits how many sweets I'm allowed…"
She pointed toward the shops along the street, sincerely debating what to try.
And that was when Arthur's expression abruptly changed.
His posture stiffened.
His gaze sharpened—like a blade leaving its sheath.
"Wait—"
Irisviel followed his line of sight, surprised.
"Saber… isn't that… Berserker from last night?"
On a bench outside a fast-food restaurant sat Gilles de Rais, dressed in modern clothing, wearing a resigned expression. A pile of packages was stacked beside him. He looked like someone waiting for a delivery—or trying to figure out why his mission had become retail errands.
"…Huh?"
Gilles also sensed Arthur's presence, lifted his head—and saw Arthur and Irisviel.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, the air became… extremely awkward.
"…Uh. What a coincidence, King Arthur," Gilles said at last, forcing a greeting to break the silence.
"Yes," Arthur replied, equally restrained. "You're here too?"
Arthur's gaze flicked toward the packages. From their branding and shape, they were unmistakably clothing—likely dresses, women's outfits.
Curiosity slipped into his voice.
"…You're shopping with your Master too? Is your Master a woman?"
"No," Gilles answered, shaking his head. "I'm just here to pick up parcels for someone else."
Then he looked at Arthur and Irisviel, incredulous.
"…Don't tell me you're actually out shopping?"
Arthur wanted to deny it by reflex.
But… he couldn't.
Because that's exactly what they were doing.
"…Yes," he admitted, and his own expression turned strange.
Gilles paused, then nodded slowly.
"You two are… remarkably relaxed."
Relaxed wasn't wrong.
Gilles had been sent out to investigate—but Morgan had shoved a shopping list into his hands on the way out. His "reconnaissance" mission had turned into a bizarre errand run.
He'd been planning to return and apologize for gathering nothing useful…
…and then, in the middle of the street, he found Arthur and Irisviel strolling openly like tourists.
This… counts as intelligence, right?
Gilles scratched his head, thinking.
His gaze wandered.
White hair. Red eyes.
"…So you're the homunculus Master my Master mentioned? You're the Master, then?"
Irisviel stiffened. Even without overt hostility, Gilles's shadowed eyes were unsettling.
"Yes," she replied, cautious. "Is there a problem?"
"No." Gilles didn't press. He only studied her for another second, then spoke with a strange sincerity.
"You may be artificial, but I can tell—you have a pure heart. You're far better than many troublesome magi. Your luck is impressive, King Arthur."
Arthur nodded silently.
He felt the same.
This time, he had finally drawn a good Master.
Then Arthur's tone turned sober.
"Even if this is only an encounter… we are enemies in the Holy Grail War. When we meet again over the Grail, there will only be battle."
Gilles smiled faintly.
"That's right. War decides winners and losers. You're English… but I don't dislike you."
His eyes lingered on Arthur—meaningful, heavy.
"Then I won't disturb your shopping. I'll take my leave for now."
He lifted the stack of parcels and vanished into the crowd.
Irisviel watched him go, still tense.
"That… was the Servant from last night?"
"Yes," Arthur confirmed. "The 'Silver Lancer'—though in truth he's Berserker."
Arthur frowned slightly.
"I still don't understand how he's maintaining sanity. His speech, his behavior… nothing about him feels like a mad warrior."
But what bothered Arthur more than the Class anomaly was Gilles's look.
It carried an odd weight.
A hint of something unsaid.
Arthur had no proof—so he said nothing.
But he made a decision.
Until the Holy Grail War ended, he would not bring Irisviel out again.
This war felt… wrong.
Ryūdō Temple.
"Master. I'm back."
Gilles de Rais returned through the temple gate, arms full of parcels. Ritsuka glanced at Morgan with a helpless look.
"You really did make Marshal Gilles run errands again…"
Morgan smiled lightly, utterly unbothered.
"That's hardly 'making trouble.' It's a small task. Don't forget, I've been here all day with you, planning."
She winked.
"Or did you want me to go collect them myself?"
Ritsuka sighed.
"…Fine. But next time, no."
"Of course, of course," Morgan replied, dismissive—clearly not taking it seriously at all.
In truth, she hadn't expected Gilles's "investigation" to produce anything. Daytime reconnaissance was usually pointless; everyone hid in their bases and moved at night. Sending Gilles out was mostly to draw attention—and conveniently handle her shopping list.
She was about to return to her preparations—countermeasures tailored to each Servant—
When Gilles suddenly spoke.
"Oh, right—Master. While I was out, I encountered a Master–Servant pair… shopping."
"Shopping?" Ritsuka blinked. "At this stage? Which pair?"
Morgan also looked over, intrigued.
"It was Saber—King Arthur's faction. I saw his Master: a beautiful woman with long white hair and red eyes. She matches the Einzbern traits you described."
"Irisviel…" Ritsuka's memory snapped into place.
A homunculus modeled after the Winter Saint. The Einzbern "lesser Grail."
Kiritsugu Emiya's wife—public bait, meant to draw attention.
Ritsuka thought for a moment, then asked the most important question.
"Did she have Command Seals on her hand?"
"Command Seals?" Gilles answered immediately—his reply making Ritsuka's eyes widen. "Yes. She wasn't hiding them. The seals were on her left hand."
"…You're sure?"
"Yes. I'm sure."
Gilles had scrutinized them carefully. This wasn't a detail he could mistake.
Ritsuka's thoughts tightened.
Her Command Seals are visible…? Then what about Kiritsugu Emiya?
He had already investigated Kiritsugu—and found nothing. No trace of the name. No record. As if the man didn't exist.
Even the Einzberns had shown no signs in recent years of taking in an outsider husband.
Ritsuka had considered the possibility that information was being concealed—but concealment always leaves seams.
Here, there were none.
Combined with Gilles's report, a troubling possibility surfaced:
Is this a worldline where Kiritsugu simply… doesn't exist?
Still, suspicion wasn't certainty.
Until he knew whether this was bait, misdirection, or a true divergence, he couldn't act rashly.
So he decided on the night's approach.
"Then tonight… we'll probe them," Ritsuka said quietly. "The situation is too chaotic. We need to reorganize and collect fresh intel."
"I understand, Master," Gilles replied, nodding.
And somewhere beyond the temple walls—Fuyuki's second night began preparing its teeth.
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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