A Giant Toy? I Have One Too!

A purple-red fireball rose from the ground, expanding into a blazing "sun" that illuminated the Trifas sky, visible even from Sighisoara tens of kilometers away.

Gradually, as the radiant brilliance reached its peak, it dimmed just as quickly, leaving only the burning ground and the plumes of smoke towering toward the sky as evidence of the "sun's" brief reign, mirroring the mixed emotions of the Masters of the Yggdmillennia clan.

There was joy—this Romanian Holy Grail War had turned into an overwhelming victory for the Yggdmillennia clan. Reaching the Root through the Greater Grail would allow them to counterbalance the Clock Tower, even if it might not entirely replace its authority.

The Clock Tower's grip on the world of mysteries had gone unchallenged for so many years, with countless hidden figures in its ranks. Darnic wasn't so naive as to think that Yggdmillennia could suddenly surge past the "old guard" to replace centuries of accumulated power and influence. That simply wasn't realistic.

Yet, there was also concern. The supernatural world, which thrived on secrecy, was now brazenly exposed. This unusual "purple sun" phenomenon, while initially shocking, would no doubt raise suspicions once people calmed down.

Suppressing the news wasn't impossible, but it would require a considerable expenditure of resources—enough to cause even Yggdmillennia some pain.

No doubt, the mage dispatched by the Mage's Association to keep the Holy Grail War under wraps was having a terrible night.

"Let's hope the damage Her Majesty caused isn't too severe, and that this war ends soon," Darnic murmured. He had never imagined a day would come when he'd be hoping for lesser Noble Phantasms from a Servant.

Such are the ironies of life.

During the Third Holy Grail War in Fuyuki City, the Servants hadn't caused such destructive chaos. The battles took place at night, and the damage could be explained away as gas explosions.

Sighing deeply, Darnic pressed his fingers to his forehead, using a spell to link with the World Chronicle. Observing the restless citizens in Trifas on his screen, he let out a weary sigh.

"Uncle, Berserker Frankenstein has returned to the fortress, and Lord Vlad has also been escorted back by Her Majesty's Astartes soldiers after his defeat. Caster Avicebron is now treating him," Fiore, rolling her wheelchair beside Darnic, hesitantly reported.

"Ah, I understand. The king did his best, after all—his opponent was Karna, the son of the Sun God Surya," Darnic replied, gazing out over the battlefield, his expression unreadable, leaving his true thoughts concealed.

"Patriarch, Her Majesty has returned. With Red's most troublesome Servant, Lancer Karna, now cornered, it's unlikely he'll escape. Now that Archer Chiron and Saber Siegfried remain in peak combat condition, shouldn't we…"

Gordes, the middle-aged blond man standing at Darnic's other side, suggested eagerly, glancing meaningfully toward the Hanging Gardens above.

But Darnic refused without hesitation. "No. We are merely humans; the supernatural battles of Heroic Spirits are beyond our scope. Our judgment could be skewed, leading us to misinterpret the battlefield. Let Archer and Saber decide the best tactics themselves."

Darnic's younger days as an officer in the SS had taught him the dangers of excessive micromanagement from superiors.

Besides, Her Majesty has returned. There's no need for us to worry further.

"Exactly. Gordes, the Patriarch is correct. All we need to do is await good news from Her Majesty, Rider," Selene's Master, a mature woman named Celenike, echoed with a strangely unhinged smile.

"…Understood," Gordes muttered, nodding with some reluctance.

Observing all of this in silence, Darnic's desire to claim the position of Black Rider's Master grew stronger than ever.

Perhaps it's time to enact my final contingency. Otherwise, once Red has been crushed, tonight the Greater Grail will activate, and then the clan's internal conflict will begin.

After all, the Greater Grail could grant only one wish. With Vlad III severely injured, no one in the Black faction could likely prevent Celenike from claiming the Grail.

...

At that moment, the fortress's balcony fell into an eerie silence among the Yggdmillennia Masters.

Until— "Where's Roche?" Darnic glanced around, noting that the Master of Black Caster Avicebron was missing, neither on the balcony nor anywhere in the castle hall.

"Roche? He went to Caster's golem workshop, I think. He mentioned wanting to see Caster's greatest masterpiece completed," Caules said, adjusting his glasses thoughtfully.

Darnic frowned. Red could resort to any desperate measures at this critical point in the battle. Roche wandering off alone was indeed risky.

"Caules, you—forget it, I'll go myself."

Initially considering sending Caules to retrieve Roche, Darnic quickly reconsidered. Caules was merely a third-rate mage. If Red did infiltrate, he'd likely be walking into a deathtrap.

Red Assassin Semiramis was still out there. Though her skill set was more aligned with the Caster class, as an Assassin, supported by the power of a "temple," she remained a threat.

No amount of caution was excessive when dealing with Servants as a modern mage. Darnic had seen firsthand the overwhelming power of Heroic Spirits when Vlad III effortlessly eliminated the fifty magi dispatched by the Mage's Association.

...

Meanwhile, elsewhere within the fortress—

"Homunculi, groups of three—five teams in total. Two teams on fixed patrol, three on roaming patrol."

"Golden-armored giants—two, stationed at the entrance and in the intersection corridors."

Dressed in his dark priest's vestments, draped in red ceremonial cloth, and gripping a Black Key, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada concealed himself with his form obscured, cautiously moving through the castle.

When he encountered homunculi, he slipped past undetected, thanks to Semiramis' ancient concealment magic, amplified by the Hanging Gardens.

When he came across the towering golden-armored giants, he kept his distance, steering clear of their paths, avoiding detection at all costs.

Though burdensome, Amakusa Shirou couldn't afford to take risks. This was his final chance. Semiramis's concealment magic, at least, had thus far proven effective, as he hadn't yet been exposed.

After executing a series of maneuvers that would put an Olympic gymnast to shame, Amakusa finally reached the castle's inner courtyard.

"That massive explosion must have been Black Rider's doing... A Servant of incredible power and destructive capability—one who can observe the entire battlefield through her Noble Phantasm, no less."

Crouching in the shadow of a corner wall, Amakusa murmured in a voice only he could hear.

Indeed, his close surveillance had confirmed that a constant magical projection inside Fortress of Millennia's central hall displayed the entire battlefield.

Amakusa now understood why his faction had constantly been detected and why every move into the Hanging Gardens was exposed from the start.

"That book—it's her Noble Phantasm… No doubt, it's gathered information on every Servant since the start of the war. Even my identity may be exposed."

His face darkened as he processed this, as though a storm cloud had settled over him.

But the next moment, he shook his head resolutely. Semiramis' concealment magic was time-limited. He had to act quickly.

No matter the outcome, even if he burned like a moth to a flame, he would try.

Amakusa made his way silently to the lakeside. Deep below, he could sense the Greater Grail.

As a participant in Fuyuki City's Third Holy Grail War, it was only in the final moment of his dissipation that he connected with the Greater Grail, achieving incarnation and enabling him to survive in the world for over sixty years.

"Darnic…" he muttered, whispering the name of his former adversary as he drew a three-foot-long Japanese sword.

He gripped the hilt with his right hand, running his left index finger along the blade, drawing blood.

As crimson droplets trickled into the blood groove, his hand flared with a faintly blue magic circuit. He twirled the sword briefly, plunging the blade deep into the grass at the lake's edge.

"Thank you, Black Rider, for your display. That enormous mana spike from your attack scrambled much of the castle's detection systems, allowing me to slip through undetected."

In that instant, a surge of mana spread outward, probing below the lake's surface, where a massive golem emerged within Amakusa's perception.

"A golem? Caster's trump card, perhaps? And in a deeper layer of the lake… there's a large space down there. That must be where the Greater Grail is. Wait… there's a golem workshop? Inside…"

"Perhaps I can…"

...

In the plains outside the fortress—

The site where Selene had landed had transformed into a barren crater hundreds of meters wide!

With a little rainfall, this would soon be a small lake.

Step, step.

Her silver boots sank into the molten ground, still glowing from the intense heat. Waving away the blistering hot air that obscured her vision, Selene raised an eyebrow. "Huh? Didn't seem like I hit anything solid… Command Spells?"

"But it doesn't matter now. It's your turn." She lifted her gaze to the giant floating fortress above.

Just then, a hoarse, crazed voice rang out, "Ahahahaha—I smell it! The scent of an oppressor! A stronger presence than ever before!"

"Spartacus?"

Several hundred meters away, Berserker Spartacus, his limbs shattered and barely clinging to life, opened his remaining eye wide, staring feverishly at Selene with a maniacal grin.

Unlike last time in the forest, when Selene had masked her presence, now she unleashed her full power without reservation.

The aura emanating from Selene was unlike any ruler or tyrant he had ever encountered, reawakening him even in his severely injured state.

"Still alive, huh? Roaring like a wounded beast... such a persistent rebel."

In the short span of a few breaths, Selene watched as Spartacus' broken limbs regenerated into a grotesque mountain of flesh.

He had grown several times his original size, abandoning all traces of humanity. The mass of his body squirmed under grayish flesh, with eyeballs growing in clusters and sprouting long, fleshly "arms" that resembled monstrous tentacles.

Just a glance at the monstrosity was enough to make Selene recoil, her interest in a fight dwindling. "Bud, he's all yours. Draw him away!"

"As you command!"

At her words, particles of purple-red mana gathered, and Budo reappeared, towering and unscathed, positioning himself directly before Spartacus.

"Hahaha! You, too, are an oppressor! Die!"

Laughing maniacally, Spartacus, in his berserk state, absorbed the power of Selene's "Heavenly Wrath," further fueling his unstoppable fury.

"I will defeat you! I must endure this agony and reach the hope beyond despair, to destroy every last tyrant who descends upon this world for the Greater Grail!"

"Rebellious to the core, are you… I don't care who you are or where you came from, much less about your history! But!"

Bud raised his mighty fists, his face set with resolve, his armor ablaze with blue-white lightning that crackled louder and louder.

"If you dare challenge the authority of my Empress, it is my duty… to wipe you out!"

Electricity surged from Bud's armor, growing so intense that hints of golden lightning flickered amid the blue-white arcs, illuminating his figure like a god of thunder.

BOOM!

With a thunderous blast, the monstrous "flesh mountain" flew backward, sent hurtling by the concentrated torrent of lightning.

"Battlefield cleared; now it's just us."

With the ground finally cleared, Selene turned her gaze to the Hanging Gardens above, spreading her arms wide.

"A giant toy, huh… I've got one too."

"Descend upon me—the Glory of the Empire!"

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