Counterstrike

' This is bad no screw bad I am dead ' an young boy thought as he peeked from above

The magus was shouting after all, what stood in front of him was a Servant, along with the girls near her who was apparently her Master. They were in the middle of a Holy Grail War; it was hardly strange to find a Servant somewhere.

However, the Magus was not a Master.

This was an infraction a breaking of the rules. Where was the judge? This Servant and her Master ought to be punished. The Magus was not even directly involved in the Holy Grail War, but only in a support role.

"W-wait you can't kill me I am "

" A first rate mangus from the mage's association and also a spy "

" This is unacceptable! I was only following-"

But he was cut short as a the girl fired some sort of spell at him without even chanting

the mangus could only croak, and his conscious was leaving him as he involuntarily brought a hand to his own chest and his hand found an enormous hole, where his heart had been bore clean through,his Magic Crest was giving its all in an attempt to revive him, but with their degraded Crest, all it could manage was prolonging the moment before his death.

'Ahh… so I am going to die.'

the truth broke him, as fear shut down his mind. Drained of energy, he would never rise again.

the Servant spoke.

"This is a very nice place to live, isn't it, Mother?"

"Yes, it's a beautiful home. But we can't stay here, Jack go call Fiore-sama"

The mother explained in a gentle tone of voice to her Servant, who nodded meekly and disappeared

" You upstairs come out "

A jolt of fear passed through the boy for a moment he stood paralysed before coming down with his hand in the air

"P-please don't kill me " he sqeauked he was a second rate mangus and against a master even if she did not have her servent with her he already knew he stood no chance to win

"That would depend on my superior's "

" I-I can be useful yes! I -I uh know where the main communication head lives! "

"How is Lancer?"

"Instead of going into spiritual form, my Lord is sitting on his throne and seems to be thinking about something. He appears to be considering some matters from his discussion with Ruler."

Gathered together in one of the castle's rooms, the head of the Yggdmillennia clan, Darnic, and Archer stood in front of each other as they started working out their plans from now on.

"To think that Saber would drop out so early on…"

Darnic wore a dark expression. It was only natural; the one extolled as the greatest of the seven Servant classes, Saber, possessed outstanding talent that should have ensured he survived until the final stages of the war. There were Servants like Caster and Assassin who excelled at targeting their opponent's weak points, and Servants like Rider who overwhelmed the enemy with an abundance of Noble Phantasms—so it wasn't like the Saber class had an absolute advantage, but unlike those other classes who suffered from the issue of compatibility with their enemies, the Saber class could deal with any type of enemy in battle with its all-purpose strength and skills.

Moreover, Saber of Black had been Siegfried, the great hero of the Netherlands. Excluding Saber of Red, he should have been able to dominate any battle no matter what Servant he faced.

"It's no use regretting what's past now. The Red camp will probably detect Saber's death sooner or later. When they do, there is a high chance that they'll attack to try and finish us off in one stroke."

The Red camp had lost Berserker to them and was also down to six Servants. If Archer were their commander, he would want to attack before the Black camp made countermeasures to deal with Saber's loss. They had the best chance of winning now while the Black camp wasn't prepared.

"Caster's Noble Phantasm will be necessary."

"…I heard we haven't yet gathered all the necessary materials yet, though."

A Servant's Noble Phantasm was brought into this world when they were summoned, and was naturally compiled out of prana. Though there were sometimes necessary conditions for activating it, it was rare for the Noble Phantasm itself to require materials to construct it.

Most of the time, this occurred in cases where the Noble Phantasm still existed in the world up to the present day. However, in this case, what was needed was the Noble Phantasm itself instead of the materials.

A Noble Phantasm was not an unknown weapon. Noble Phantasms were none other than the ultimate mysteries of Heroic Spirits that were sublimated into their legends. Therefore, Noble Phantasm were already completed existences… normally speaking.

If there was a Noble Phantasm that did not follow this logic, it would be something too huge to be possessed by a single Heroic Spirit, or—something that was incomplete but still carved into legend.

"There's just one material left. If we can obtain it, Caster can activate his Noble Phantasm."

"…A first-class magus."

Darnic spoke with a grim expression. Hearing those words, Archer finally understand the reasons for various things that had been happening.

"…I see. So that's why Caster wanted that homunculus."

"That's right. Caster's Noble Phantasm requires a [core] to function, and the quality of the core is reflected in the power of the Noble Phantasm. The only ones that possess the necessary talent among our clan are—"

"The seven who became Masters. And also the homunculus in question."

"We can gather any number of second-rate and third-rate magi as materials. However, a magus who is the successor of a thousand-year-old Magic Crest can't be obtained in such a short period of time."

"I don't think that the homunculus has a Crest, though—"

"But that homunculus was made using crafting techniques stolen from the Einzberns. It's not unusual for an extraordinary monster to be born among those we created. Caster probably noticed that."

That's true, Archer thought with a nod. His Magic Circuits were first-class. As a result, his feeble body hadn't been able to endure the power of his Circuits.

"But at this point, capturing that homunculus is a dim prospect. In other words…"

"We have to use someone among us as the materials, huh?"

"Yes. In that case, there is only one person who qualifies."

Darnic muttered with a bitter smile.

Archer guessed that he was probably referring to Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia. Especially since Saber had chosen his own death, his Master was definitely not unrelated ,when he regained consciousness, Gordes had shaken pitifully before Lancer's cross-examination of what had happened and had blamed everything on Saber , Rider and Assassin's. Watching him do that had not brought pleasant feelings even to a Servant like Archer.

Gordes had forgotten that, at the same time as being his Servant, Saber was also the undying hero Siegfried who was unparalleled in history… No, perhaps it was more accurate to say that he averted his eyes from that fact if Saber didn't obey his Master's orders, it was probably due to his own beliefs. To try and overcome that with a high-handed attitude was completely out of the question. As a matter of fact, Archer felt that Gordes' arrogant attitude had caused Lancer's anger towards Rider to cool down.

"Was it okay to make Caster the Master of Berserker of Red?"

Though Gordes had lost Saber, he still had one of his Command Spells left, and continued to possess the rights of a Masters. If he were to make a new contract, it was only natural to do so with Berserker of Red, but—

The contract with Berserker had already been completed with Caster as a proxy Master.

"We can't expect anything from Berserker's Master, after all. Once we transfer Gordes' Command Spell to Caster, his role will end after guiding Berserker's rampage with the Command Spell."

"…I see."

Darnic rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Archer what do you think about Assassin's Master?"

"It seems unlikely that she would try to betray us now "

The incident with Saber had shaken the black camp the fact that the homonculi can have free will was a large concern especially if you considered Assassin's master Misa to put in other words, there was a high probability that Misa might turn against the black camp and her sevent Assassin of Black—Jack the Ripper—had a short history and was a serial killer, which was far from the level of a Heroic Spirit, but with the special characteristics of his class, she undoubtedly specialized in killing Masters.

In that regard, Assassin was quite a terrifying Servant to have as an enemy.

After the incident Misa was given a task to eliminate all the members of the mage's association who had infiltrated Romania,a task she performed with striking efficiency

"Having both Assassins in the Red camp is the worst possible outcome, but…"

Archer shook his head at Darnic's words, as if to say that he trusted the homonculus enough to not even consider that possibility . It was then that the door suddenly opened and the two of them turned to look at the same time.

"Grandfather, Archer. May I have a minute of your time?"

The one who barged in was Archer of Black's Master, Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia. Normally, she acted in a graceful manner in all situations, but for once, she wore a highly bewildered expression.

"What's wrong, Fiore? To not even knock—"

Without answering, Fiore silently signaled as two homonculi entered carrying a strange item that

"This is…"

What Fiore pointed at was the photo of a woman. Though they were low grain photos, one could see that she possessed well-ordered features " We managed to recover this from her grandfather"

"I recognise her, she is Pemetrekis a magus who was in the same department as me at the Association."

At her words, Darnic also recognized the seriousness of the situation.

"…. Pemetrekis is a magus specialized in intelligence-gathering. Adding in the battle abilities of her familiars, ."

It seems they now have a chance to finally gain an advantage over the Red camp

Thus, it was announced that the largest-scale Holy Grail War in history—the [Great Holy Grail War] was over. The Black camp had lost, and the war ended with the Red camp as the victors. Unfortunately, the Greater Grail had ceased functioning, so no wishes could be granted, but an enormous reward was given by the Association of Magi as compensation. With the Greater Grail non-functional, they couldn't fight amongst each other either now.

The Red Masters relaxed as they pleased and soothed their fatigue from the war.

"Everyone, I truly thank you for your hard work."

Just like when they met at the beginning, Shirou Kotomine presented them black tea.

"Thank you for the tea."

The moment they put the tea to their lips, a refreshing aroma plunged inside their chests. A comfortable pleasantness that pervaded not only their lungs, but all their internal organs. Perhaps it was also because they had finished their jobs without a hitch that they felt so relaxed, to a degree they hadn't felt since they became magi.

"This is good tea."

"Thank you very much for the praise."

"Shirou. Won't you drink some?"

"No. Brewing it is my specialty, but I'm not accustomed to drinking black tea—"

Smiling wryly, he poured hot water in his own cup. So the Japanese are like that, the magi thought absentmindedly.

"Ah, I just remembered. Could you all please hand over your Command Spells?"

"Our Command Spells? Why?"

The Command Spells—were extremely—important—and necessary—in order to win—the war—

"Really now, everyone. Don't you remember? The Great Holy Grail War is over."

"…Now that you mention it, that's right."

"…Now that you mention it, that's true."

Yes, the Great Holy Grail War was over. When they heard that Ruler had joined the Yggdmillennia camp midway through, their sweat had turned cold, but they had somehow managed to deal with that as well thanks to Shirou's quick-wittedness. It had truly been a hard battle. Since the preparations before the fighting—yes, it had been quite a handful since the preparations.

"I am the overseer. I must recover all of your Command Spells and have them ready for the next Holy Grail War. I apologize for the trouble."

"It can't be helped. There's no use keeping them now anyway."

"…I suppose that's true."

"Then how about I bill the costs and expenses to the Church? If we arrange so that I provide the money and look after the Command Spells—"

"In that case, we can agree to it, but… is that all right?"

"The one being billed is the Church, not me. Think of this as my revenge against them for pushing this important task onto a junior member like me."

Laughter spilled from everyone at his expression, which was just like that of a mischievous boy. Though they had been wary of him at the start of the war, thinking him to be an assassin sent by the Church, he had in fact worked quite hard for them.

"We appreciate all the hard work you did as the overseer. We would also like to reward you, but—"

"Ah, please do not worry in that regard. I also received something from you all as proper compensation."

Someone asked what it was. Shirou spoke with a small and elusive smile like always.

"That would be your rights as Masters. That is suitable as compensation, is it not?"

I see, someone said with a nod.

"Are you really fine with something like that?"

"Yes, of course. Then, I will arrange the preparations to conduct the transfer ritual. Please enjoy chatting amongst yourselves for a short while."

"We'll do so."

—At last, without noticing the unnaturalness of the situation right till the very end, the magi decided to hand over 'that', which they should have treasured more than their lives, over to the smiling boy, free of charge.

"More importantly. How should we use the reward we received?"

"I think we should spend time relaxing and enjoying ourselves for a while. This recent job was quite hard."

"It seems that an auction for grimoires has opened at the Clock Tower. With this reward, I'll be able to buy at least three books that I've wanted for a long time."

"I'll use it to give a personal donation to my department. The budget has been constricted."

"It's no fun to use it for things related to the Association. I will…"

The war had ended. Now they just had to get their reward. Incidentally, there was one thing they just couldn't seem to understand.

Just how exactly did we win?

Even though it was something they should definitely remember, for some reason none of them could answer that question. But it all became inconsequential to them when they drank the black tea.

Only days of peace and decadence filled their memories, and everything seemed to shine. Without glory or prestige, they merely quietly passed the time in idleness—

Shirou Kotomine walked out of the room quietly Semiramis the Assyrian Empress was extremely skilled in making drugs few of which he used for getting the Red masters drugged

I suppose that drugs are a type of poison

'Sketch-Sktch' Kotomine looked at he magic message tool writing a message for him

Shirou felt a small sense of relief their communication has been down lately and he was starting to get worried about the mangus who were on duty

Lord El-Melloi II had to pull a lot of strings in order to send them here and he would be very unhappy if something happened to them

Unfortunately after reading the message Shirou was now extremely worried

'Haa this is a big obstacle '

Participants in the Holy Grail War were able to see dreams. Perhaps it was due to the deep mental connection between Master and Servant.

They were able to view each other's pasts in the form of dreams. It was a phenomenon that was widely known to have occurred in the first three Holy Grail Wars and the smaller derivative Holy Grail Wars.

—So Shishigou Kairi wasn't surprised at all when he found himself in Britain in the far ancient past.

"…Well, this kind of thing happens too, I guess."

This was probably his Servant Mordred's past. When he realized it, she was already right there next to him. The sword she held was the weapon she favored in this Holy Grail War as well—Clarent: Radiant Sword of the King.

Originally, this weapon did not belong to her. It was a sword that served as the symbol of the throne, which King Arthur had obtained and stored in his armory.

Mordred had stolen it and incited a large-scale rebellion to take the title of 'king' for herself, and now she was tightly grasping this sword in front of King Arthur as she challenged him to a one-on-one fight.

"…In other words, this is Camlann, huh?"

Yes, this place was the hill of Camlann. The site of the final decisive battle between the rebel army led by Mordred and the regular army led by King Arthur. In this sad and gloomy war, the curtains would finally close on the brilliant knightly story of King Arthur's legend.

Fired arrows pierced lightly-armored rank-and-file soldiers. Mordred, with her entire body clad in armor, pushed forward in defiance of all attacks.

King Arthur, who boasted of tremendous charisma, had finally managed to unify Britain. Yet in spite of that, why did so many soldiers approve of Mordred's rebellion?

With unification close at hand, weariness of war had spread and grown rampant within the country—that was one reason.

The scandal between Queen Guinevere and the Knight of the Lake, Lancelot, who, despite being extolled as perfect, had fallen into an immoral love, had caused the king's authority to weaken in the people's eyes—that was also one reason.

Many knights had been gripped by both a strange fear and even disdain for their king, who was too pure and upright and never acted according to personal feelings—that was also one reason.

But there was another reason.

Seeing Mordred on the battlefield, Shishigou could understand it quite well. Her way of fighting was savage. The magnificent and gallant sword technique that other knights boasted of was like a frail twig before her style.

It was a style of killing that focused on obeying her instincts and optimized her fighting habits with the greatest efficiency.

The morale of the troops who followed her from behind was high. It was a rhythm that urged people's instincts. Their footsteps banged loudly and grandly like large drums as they stepped forward.

—It was a calamity like that of a dragon.

Mordred was a famous knight. She had worked hard to be one and seemed to be so in reality. Still, if she had proceeded to the battlefield as a [knight, hundreds of thousands of soldiers probably wouldn't have followed her.

Her strength was real and somehow seemed to be filled with madness. But that very madness was her most admirable and suitable trait on the battlefield.

Since she was as strong as a monster and scattered enemies like a gall of wind, her soldiers continued to follow her as if stirred by madness.

—They wanted to see how far this mad warrior could go.

A faith that went under the name 'frenzy'. If they thought about it deeply, that was probably the only motive for the soldiers. But even if they had high morale, they were finite in numbers. One was killed, two were killed, hundreds, thousands of them died across the battlefield.

Mordred did not look back at them. Soldier—no, humans were beings that multiplied of their own accords after winning. That was how she seemed to view them.

She prioritized attacking a thick formation of enemy soldiers. When she scattered them like wood chips, she would look for another thick enemy formation and ride swiftly towards it. Enemies that faltered, enemies that resisted, enemies that ran away—she slayed them all and piled up mountains of corpses.

And as expected, Mordred paid no heed to the rank-and-file soldiers. The only one that held her interest was none other than her father—King Arthur.

"Where is King Arthur?! Where is the King of Knights?!"

She cried out and tore through the soldiers surrounding her by two, threefold. By challenging thick formations of the enemy, she had a high chance of treading where the king was. However, as if fate itself refused her, the two of them never encountered each other on the battlefield no matter where she went.

But—once there were no more walls to block her, fate would finally fulfill her wish. Both King Arthur's army and Mordred's rebel army perished almost completely, leaving corpses strewn about everywhere. As Mordred rested using her sword as a cane, King Arthur finally appeared before her.

His expression was completely tranquil, containing no pity or hatred for her. That expressionless face clearly irritated Mordred.

In any case, the two of them stood facing each other. There were no longer any living beings left to get in their way.

Mordred spread her arms wide and shouted passionately. She shouted with anger, delight and all the emotions she couldn't help feeling.

"How's that?! How's that, King Arthur?! Your country ends here! It's finished! Regardless of who wins—everything is already in ruins!"

The one who received those words was a king who looked just like a youth, with features very similar to Mordred's.

Without caring about Mordred's passionate words, or even responding with words of his own, the king merely lifted his sword like some sort of machine.

That was the most unacceptable response to Mordred. Howling, Mordred swung her sword.

King Arthur parried, causing sparks to scatter as the two holy swords clashed. They were both exhausted, but both fought hard as they refused to lose. But their battle would change nothing. Just as Mordred said, no matter who won, this country was quickly falling to ruins.

"You should have known this would have happened! You should have known it would end up like this! If you had just turned over the throne to me, it wouldn't have turned out like this…!"

But even so, Mordred's sword did not slacken.

She was born as an illegitimate son, admired her father, was rejected by him, and then hated him—and now they were trying to kill each other on the battlefield like this.

—I hate you, I hate you. I hate you, the perfect king. I hate you, who didn't acknowledge my existence. Even though I was happy to be in your shadow. You never once turned around to face me.

—That's why this is a natural punishment, King Arthur. I destroyed everything, everything you1 had!

"Do you hate me!? Do you hate me that much!? Did you hate me for being Morgan's son!? Answer me… answer me, Arthur!"

At that shout, Arthur finally responded to her as they crossed swords. In a cold, completely emotionless voice, the king pronounced his verdict.

"I have never once hated you. The reason I did not hand the throne over to you is because—"

You did not have the capacity to be a king.

It was a reply filled with [indifference]. He had merely understood Mordred's abilities and, without the slightest bit of emotion, divulged that she didn't have the necessary capacity.

Immediately after that, Mordred swung her sword in rage, and then, King Arthur's holy lance Rhongomyniad pierced through her chest. No matter how tough her armor was, it amounted to nothing before that lance.

—However.

Even after being fatally wounded, Mordred mustered the last of her dying strength and finally dealt a decisive blow to King Arthur. Mordred's helm split in two, revealing the face of a young girl that Shishigou was familiar with.

As blood dripped down from her lips, Mordred stretched out her hand to King Arthur who stood right before her eyes.

"—Fa, ther."

Mordred fell without touching her father. Watching steadily, King Arthur understood that he had won this battle and, without a word, turned his back to Mordred and walked away.

…After this, King Arthur was taken away by his surviving knight, Bedivere, and he had him return his sword to the lake. It was said that even after dying, he was healing his wounds in the land of fairies, Avalon.

That was how King Arthur's legend came to an end.

Paying no attention to King Arthur as he walked away, Shishigou gazed at the fallen Mordred. He sighed and muttered to himself.

"…Damn it, what a terrible dream."

It was so real. This dream was so lifelike he could even smell the blood on the battlefield. Mordred merely lay there with vacant eyes, her expression completely lifeless.

Yes, the current Mordred was completely a corpse. She would probably eventually be stripped of everything she had on her and rot away while devoured by insects.

King Arthur became a legend, and Mordred was remembered as the knight who tarnished that legend.

Since all the soldiers that followed her had been slain, there was no one left to remember her. That was only natural. This was a battlefield… those who lost and became bleached corpses were finished with this world.

Her passion, her keen wish was recorded nowhere and merely disappeared. Truly. Right until her last moments, she died in obscurity without even her parent turning back to look at her.

"—Ah, geez. I drew a troublesome Servant."

There's a limit even to compatibility, Shishigou thought. In the end, a Servant was merely a visitor from the past. Connecting with each other was important, but plunging in too deeply was out of the question. Once they got their hands on the Holy Grails, their relationship would end.

That's why this truth was extremely irritating. A child who wished for her father's love was the worst bad joke to Shishigou.

While waiting to wake up from the dream, Shishigou sat down beside Mordred's corpse. And then he merely gazed aimlessly at the perished people of a ruined country.

No matter the era or nation, the scene of a country's last moments were always the same—

Thus, morning came, and the first words that came out of Shishigou's mouth were directed at Saber of Red and filled with ill humor.

"Geez, don't show me strange dreams."

"…I don't really get it, but is that my fault?"

Even Saber of Red was wide-eyed with amazement at such an unreasonable complaint.

The place the two of them awoke in wasn't the catacombs of Trifas. It was in the room of a small hotel in Sighișoara. Just in case, they weren't using a room they had rented themselves, but a room they had gotten someone else to pay for using suggestion magecraft.

Having received a message from the Association of Magi, Shishigou had decided to temporarily withdraw from Trifas, where they'd been hiding, to go to Sighișoara. Famous for its historical buildings and architecture

"…So. Why are we here?"

"Because the Association magi who were on standby here as backup have been held hostage by the black camp and we are here to negotiate."

The somewhat unbalanced pair drank coffee at an open terrace café under the clear autumn sky. Saber of Red turned her face away in displeasure, and Shishigou silently read the city's local newspaper.

There were no openings in Trifas for Association magi to enter the town, but the nearby city of Sighișoara was a different matter. Many magi had been stationed here as backup personnel. While their strength in battle was inferior to that of the magi hired as the Red Masters, there were countless other things they could do such as surveillance and despatching familiars.

They had diligently observed the battle between Saber of Black and Lancer of Red outside Trifas as well and had provided valuable information for Shishigou.

However, he appeared to have suddenly lost all communication with them. The Association of Magi had ordered them to give periodic reports. It was only natural to think that something abnormal had occurred.

"Negotiations, huh… But why are they doing that here instead of Trifas?"

"That's also one of the things we'll be investigating. Maybe they didn't want to cause a disturbance in Trifas, or—"

Shishigou spread out his newspaper and pointed at a simply drawn map. In the beginning, the murder had started at Bucharest and then gradually went north. Seeing that, Saber nodded in understanding.

"Maybe they're this is a trap ."

"Exactly. All the Red Servants have been gathered here according to Shirou, and he said that we are to represent the red camp . If we trust those words, ."

He felt it was somewhat dangerous to trust Shirou Kotomine's words, but he wouldn't lie about something like this. And, of the Black Servants, the deceased Saber and the ones within the Fortress of Millennia, Lancer, Rider, Archer and Berserker, had already battled against some of the Red Servants at least once. Based on the quality of the golems they fought, Caster, who was presumed to be a golem-user, was also probably among them.

"What about the other masters can't they come here ?"

"Apparently they feel it's too risky to appear now"

"Useless cowards " Saber snorted

Saber apparently decided to stroll around the streets. Fortunately, Sighișoara was one of Romania's tourist spots, with buildings that boasted of hundreds of years of history and were preserved even to this day. There was no way anyone would get tired of—no, wait.

After he parted with her and was in the midst of heading to the morgue, Shishigou realized a crucial point. She was a Servant, a person who had lived in the far past.

"Now that I think about it, there's no way she hasn't seen such things before."

Even if people said the buildings had a 'Middle Ages' look, she had lived in that very era.

Shishigou predicted that, at first, Saber would wander through the streets expecting to see new and curious things, but gradually notice and mutter to herself, "Huh, there's not much difference from the era I lived in?", and then immediately become displeased and kill time while sulking—

"It was so boring…" Saber of red muttered as she walked in the streets until she came face to face with a female homonculus staring at her with an expressionless face.

Before Modred could decide to kill her or not

"Nyaa."

Saber stood there, her jaw open. Did she go crazy?

"What was that?"

"A black animal with four legs is stuck on the tree, "

"Who... are you?"

"Misaka Misa homonculi commander of the black fraction "

"What! "

"Please hurry and save the animal, and avoid unnecessary talk while the animal remains in danger."

A black cat stood high up in a tree, visibly afraid as it hunched his back.

Looks like this day is going to be interesting after all