When the four members of the Blue faction arrived in Romania, it was already the morning of the next day.
"Fourteen heroic spirits, each capable of taking on a thousand enemies—this is undoubtedly the largest scale among the numerous apocryphal Holy Grail Wars. However, this scale is abnormal by any measure. Based on my understanding of the Holy Grail system, such a situation would distort the Grail itself, which governs the system. That is when the Ruler appears."
The group consisted of a beautiful woman in an emerald-green dress, a handsome young man in a noble-style suit, and two figures—one large, one small—cloaked in black, their faces hidden.
It was a peculiar party. Passersby turned their heads in surprise as the group walked past. Despite their efforts to remain inconspicuous, their otherworldly presence made them stand out like a moth to a flame.
Sensing the excessive attention, the young man raised his head and swept his gaze around. The sheer intensity of his stare made onlookers avert their eyes. With a snap of his fingers, he cast some form of magecraft before continuing his explanation to the woman beside him:
"Among the overseers of the Holy Church, nine out of ten harbor ulterior motives... Since humans cannot be trusted to judge other humans, the Holy Grail, regardless of whether there is an overseer, will summon a Servant to act as the adjudicator of this Holy Grail War based on its own logic."
"The Ruler does not take sides. They act solely to preserve the concept of the 'Holy Grail War' itself. This time, the Holy Grail War has gathered monsters who cannot be ignored. Therefore, the summoning of a Ruler is practically a certainty."
At this point, Sakatsuki gave Artoria a meaningful glance, causing her to avert her eyes guiltily.
Compared to a proper Ruler, her status as one—modified by Merlin under the pretense of "bringing more Noble Phantasms"—was clearly dubious at best.
Not to mention, she had been summoned by Sakatsuki himself.
"Barring any unforeseen circumstances, the Ruler summoned this time will be Jeanne d'Arc, the famed Maiden of Orleans," Sakatsuki stated outright. "When she arrives, both the Black and Red factions will make their moves. Reika, that's when you must join the Black faction and protect the Ruler."
Though Sakatsuki's actions were practically rule-breaking, he was well aware of Jeanne's overwhelming strength and absurd defensive capabilities—especially her second Noble Phantasm, that conceptual armament of mutual destruction. Without preparation, even he would be powerless to stop it.
As for Artoria, her Lawful Good nature meant she would never raise a hand against Jeanne without just cause.
—So, the only option was to befriend her.
At this thought, the Chaotic Evil young man sighed helplessly and came to a stop at the end of the street.
"Have you memorized all the key points, Reika?"
"Mhm, of course!" The beautiful woman cheerfully waved a small notebook filled with arcane knowledge before summoning black flames to reduce it to ashes—proof that she had committed everything to memory.
"It seems you've mastered the black magic formula quite well." Sakatsuki admired Reika's intelligence. "I won't apologize to you. Though it may seem unequal, this is the part you must fulfill in our contract. Let me simply wish you survival till the end."
"A life-saving debt is hard to repay. I should be thanking you for giving me this opportunity, Mr. Sakatsuki." Reika hugged little Jack, smiling gently. "After all, without you, I'd never have met little Jack or Miss Artoria."
"Mommy~" Jack nuzzled against Reika like a kitten, making her giggle.
Seeing Reika's resolute attitude, Sakatsuki said no more. After exchanging a glance with Artoria that conveyed mutual concern for each other's safety, they went their separate ways.
Sakatsuki would infiltrate the Red faction as an envoy of the Mage's Association, pitting his wits against Amakusa.
Meanwhile, Reika, little Jack, and Artoria would join the Black faction under the guise of the annihilated Osarei family, becoming members of Yggdmillennia.
Deception and suspicion, opportunism and uneasy alliances.
Wishes clashing with wishes, missions entangled with tragic desires.
Let the curtain rise, O peerless heroic spirits.
Until the rainbow blue engulfs all red and black—
Until even that supreme golden radiance becomes but a strand within the chromatic light.
***
Yggdmillennia, Fortress of Millennia
On this clear, lazy afternoon, the Red faction's Servants and Masters were still working to build rapport. But for Darnic and Vlad III, who had long passed this stage, awaiting the Osarei family's arrival took priority.
Sipping expensive red wine, Vlad III maintained his regal composure despite having once been mortally wounded.
"...Darnic, do you know how I feel at this moment?"
His pleasant smile made the answer obvious. Still, Darnic ventured a reply:
"No, for a lowly magus like myself, the thoughts of Your Highness—renowned as 'Little Dracula'—are far beyond what my humble considerations could fathom."
No sooner had he spoken than Lancer shot Darnic a displeased glance.
"Excessive flattery reveals a man's limitations, Darnic. You who address me as 'lord' remain my Master, and I as Servant do not deny this."
"Understood."
Had he overdone it? Darnic clicked his tongue inwardly. After all, Vlad III was once the ruler who dominated this land of Romania. Even an isolated magus capable of inhuman acts would show due reverence.
"Darnic. I spent half my life protecting this nation from the Turks. Though I handled all affairs befitting a king, one regret remains."
"And that would be?"
"People—the lack of a peerless commander to entrust my armies to. I devoted everything to battle and victory, which conversely meant I could do nothing else. Not incompetence, mind you—merely—"
"'Not enough time or capable hands'—is that what you mean?"
At Darnic's words, Lancer nodded in satisfaction.
"And I have finally obtained an irreplaceable 'person.' Six heroic spirits—among them, even Saber: Siegfried. He could be called the finest warrior I could have ever hoped for!"
Indeed, apart from Gordes, only Lancer and Darnic knew just what kind of heroic spirit that Saber was. Gordes' catalyst was a bloodstained leaf from the Bodhi tree. Though he had relied on the assistance of his old acquaintance, the Einzberns, to obtain such a relic, that fat man's luck was anything but ordinary.
"Not just Saber. The great sage of Greece, Chiron; one of Charlemagne's Twelve Paladins, Astolfo; the mad creation of Dr. Frankenstein, Berserker; and Caster of Black, Avicebron. Though that man is somewhat stubborn, the soldiers he creates are truly peerless in combat."
Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Berserker, Caster. In the original Holy Grail War, it was only natural for seven pairs of Masters and Servants to refine their strategies and engage in battle through tactics.
However, this Holy Grail War was vastly different from that model. The reason? The combat strength was not one, but seven—all the basic classes of Servants. Even classes like Caster and Assassin, which had an extremely difficult time surviving until the end in the Fuyuki Holy Grail War, could fully demonstrate their true worth here.
For example, Roche's summoned Caster was already in the process of producing over a thousand golems. Categorized as small, medium, and large, these golems were eagerly awaiting the moment of battle.
"We are all the Great Lord's subordinates, the Great Lord's generals."
Snapping out of his thoughts, Darnic looked at the triumphant king before him and once again pledged his loyalty. Vlad, swaying his glass of red wine, couldn't help but let his mind wander into the distance.
"—Ah, what regret. Had I possessed them back then, I would never have had to be imprisoned in that castle."
In 1462, King Mátyás of Hungary arrested Vlad III as a collaborator of the Ottoman Turks and subjected him to twelve years of imprisonment.
To have all his achievements in defending his country tarnished, only to realize he had been branded as a bloodthirsty demon—what humiliation.
Nowadays, the world knows the name "Vampire Dracula," the righteous tale of Van Helsing slaying the vampire Dracula, as penned by Bram Stoker. But how many know that the prototype of Dracula was the historical figure Vlad III, the rare and great hero who defended Wallachia from Mehmed II?
"But that is all a distant, dreamlike past now. What I must consider is the present! It is my bloodstained, pitiable name!"
"Rest assured, my lord. By defeating the seven Servants and activating the Greater Grail, your wish will undoubtedly be realized."
The restoration of his honor—that was the wish of Lancer, Vlad III. He sought to cleanse the stain of "Vampire Dracula" that had spread across the world.
He had no intention of denying the path he had walked. Battling the Turks, enduring imprisonment, living through years of obscurity—he was prepared to accept all these as part of his life with philosophical detachment. But having his name sullied in mud by those completely unrelated to him was something he could never tolerate under any circumstances.
Lancer's fervor in this Holy Grail War was likely the most intense among all Servants, and this very obsession played perfectly into Darnic's hands.
At that moment, an expressionless attendant approached to deliver a message.
"Your Grace, Lord Darnic, an envoy claiming to be from Osarei has arrived."
Finally.
Exchanging a glance, Darnic and Vlad III rose together and left the parlor, proceeding toward the throne room.
Beneath the towering, majestic throne, a beautiful woman clad in an emerald-green dress exuding an ominous aura stood waiting in silence.
"Reika Rikudou, First-Class Magus of Osarei. It is an honor to meet the head of the Yggdmillennia family and the sovereign of this land."
With a graceful bow that accentuated the soft curves of her dress, the woman smiled tenderly, her gaze toward the throne both serene and clear.
Like a narcissus blooming in a pool of blood.
***
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