There was a reason why Kayneth, a traditional magus, would not be swayed by the magecraft of the Tōsaka family.
The Tōsaka family's jewel magecraft, tracing its origins to mysteries considered ancient even by modern standards, had been passed down through generations. The issue, however, was that jewel magecraft prioritized practicality over the study of its origins or theoretical foundation.
To be more precise, when jewel magecraft first emerged as a technique, many magi never considered pursuing its roots.
There are various reasons why one studies magecraft. From the perspective of modern magi, however, those reasons often appear impure. Rather than seekers of truth, they are more like craftsmen who wield magecraft as a tool.
In other words, jewel magecraft is one of the rare arts whose source is extremely difficult to reach.
At least, that was how the Tōsaka family's magecraft functioned. As for the true jewel masters, who could say? Regardless, it was for this reason that the Tōsaka ancestors turned to the Holy Grail—to pursue the Root their family could not otherwise reach.
Therefore, no matter how powerful jewel magecraft appeared, it meant nothing to Kayneth, a traditional magus.
"So, you magi sometimes ought to let go of your obsessions and focus on things beyond the Root. It's a simple truth. When you are blinded by the desire for victory, or by the pride of your lineage, you start to believe everything is owed to you." Arthur chuckled as he explained to Kayneth.
To most people in modern society, magi seemed cruel and inhumane.
Yet once you learned how to deal with them, you would find that, in a certain light, magi could be a rather endearing group. As long as you dangled the right bait, they would pursue it more diligently and eagerly than any animal.
Well, perhaps "adorable" was not quite the word for humans.
But Arthur thought so nonetheless. Wasn't it charming how easily magi could be manipulated—far more so than ordinary people?
"But you still underestimate Tōsaka… No, even Tōsaka Tokiomi himself likely hasn't realized the value of the task his family has left incomplete for generations." Arthur spoke with evident good humor.
He hadn't expected that a simple outing would bring such an unexpected windfall.
He didn't voice the thought, however, and instead looked at Irisviel.
At that moment, Irisviel's expression was filled with unease.
"Your Majesty, is this truly all right?"
"Do you believe I will fail, Iri?" Arthur asked with a soft smile.
"No." Irisviel lowered her head shyly, then gathered her courage. "Please use me, Your Majesty. I will dedicate everything to you."
"Very well. Leave everything to me. I will not disappoint your expectations."
And with that, the reconstruction of the Holy Grail began.
Meanwhile, the duel between Gilgamesh and Iskandar—the two kings—was drawing to a close.
No, perhaps it was too soon to call it an end.
After Arthur's interference from the sidelines and the replenishment of magical energy through a Command Seal, Iskandar had finally exhausted his trump card.
Every soldier of the [King's Army] had been slaughtered by Gilgamesh. As time passed, the Conqueror's abundant reserves of prana steadily dwindled. Now, he could not even summon his oxcart; only his body remained to deliver a final strike.
"You are indeed like me, Archer. It seems you had some trump card prepared, but it was never used because of Caster's meddling. Even at an absolute disadvantage, you still forced me this far—" Iskandar sighed.
They had held the advantage of time and place, and yet it had come to this.
Although Gilgamesh looked equally battered, the enemy had shattered the [King's Army] and faced him head-on in victory.
At this point, he could only admit defeat.
"Hmph. So you realize it. This is the extent of your worth." Gilgamesh's tone was cold as he wiped blood from his face, chest heaving faintly.
Within the [King's Army], he had witnessed the bravery of the Conqueror King.
Even relying on [Independent Action] and unleashing the full power of the [Gate of Babylon], Gilgamesh had only just broken through the trump card that embodied Iskandar's life of conquest. Yet this did not mean he had emerged unscathed.
Three broken arrows and two gunshot wounds pierced his shoulders and back, testimony to the ferocity of the struggle.
Blood loss was heavy—particularly from the two bullet wounds. A fraction deeper, and they would have pierced his spiritual core.
His condition was worse than ever before.
And yet, Gilgamesh still stood tall, head high, chest proud.
"Even now, you're still so arrogant, you bastard." Iskandar chuckled weakly. As if relieved, he turned toward his young Master. "Boy, come to think of it, I haven't asked—"
"Enough noise! The defeated should leave at once!"
A blade flashed.
Red lightning split the air, and crimson liquid followed.
Without warning, a sword from behind severed Iskandar's body and soul alike. Boiling blood splashed across Waver's face. The boy never even heard his Servant finish his words—his mind was fixed on the smile that had been there an instant before, now drowned in scarlet.
"R—Rider…"
Waver's voice cracked, his hand suspended helplessly in midair.
"Hm? Already broken? Pathetic." Lucius frowned, waved dismissively, and swatted Waver aside. Then he glanced at Gilgamesh. "Tch. Just one fight and you're already this pitiful. Trash is trash—let's finish this quickly."
No mercy. No compassion.
Facing Gilgamesh, Lucius lowered himself, body surging into lightning as he lunged.
In an instant, the two crossed.
A new battle began.
"Worthless cur!"
Gilgamesh spat his habitual insult, but he was no fool. In his weakened state, Lucius—whose swordsmanship he had already witnessed—was an opponent he could not best.
Once that blade closed the distance, it meant instant death.
And then—
Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang—
The harsh rattle of chains filled the air.
The Chains of Heaven shot out from every direction, binding Gilgamesh's body and yanking him into evasive motion.
A strange "ally" had joined the fray.
"Don't run now, bastard! Take this—[Magic Sword Release: Florent (Liberatio Angelus Florenta)]!" Lucius bellowed with wild laughter, utterly heedless.
He even opened with his ultimate attack, as though it were a gesture of camaraderie.
Gilgamesh froze.
Putting aside everything else, you are the one who lost your Master… He glanced at Kotomine Kirei, then fell silent.
Even so, with a renewed contract and a Master to sustain him, this Berserker—with his absurd mana consumption—was burning through Command Seals to unleash a Noble Phantasm immediately? Did he plan to die alongside him?
Then Gilgamesh noticed the countless Command Seals etched along Lucius's arm.
Gilgamesh: "…"
-End Chapter-
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