[Mass Update: 7/8]
After the Masters left, Roland's interest in the battlefield dropped considerably.
"Well then, next I'll start slowly guiding the direction of this Holy Grail War. But... I feel like I'm forgetting something."
He mulled it over for a moment before suddenly slapping his forehead.
"Ah, right. I promised Matou Zouken I'd deal with Darnic. Oh well. That guy's not really capable of doing anything serious anyway."
"Besides, he's not even a Master himself... If you're in the mood, we can just go and wipe him out."
Medea voiced exactly what Roland had in mind. Though she knew from him that Matou Zouken was an ancient monster who'd survived hundreds of years, and in strict magical terms, was far older than she was, Medea, a skilled and confident magus in her own right, wasn't the least bit intimidated.
"That won't be necessary. He's still useful for now. As long as Darnic's still around, their feud will keep brewing. And if Zouken really has the gall to invoke the contract and demand something from me...well then, I'll just have Killer Queen blow the entire Matou family sky high."
With a casual clap of his hands, Roland cheerfully declared the fate of the Matou family. But when he turned to glance toward the old capital, his expression froze.
While many parts of the new capital of Fuyuki were now lit brightly thanks to the secret war underway, the old capital, across the river, remained largely dark.
Except for one spot.
A distant section was glowing orange, small points of fire dancing wildly, dyeing the night sky in flickering flame.
"Caster... that's the Matou residence, isn't it?"
"Yes. There aren't many strong leylines in the old capital," Medea confirmed calmly. "That direction aligns with the Matou estate."
As she confirmed it, Roland's brow furrowed.
"But I haven't blown anything up yet. Why's my ally going up in smoke?"
He was absolutely certain he hadn't made any wish-fulfillment misfires, so something really had happened to the Matou family.
Without another word, he waved his hand. The shadows around him and Caster curled and expanded, engulfing them, and they vanished from sight, only to reappear at the edge of the Matou grounds a heartbeat later.
But unlike the last time they visited two days ago, the ancient Matou estate, standing for centuries, had been reduced to ash.
Standing in the silent night, Roland's crimson eyes stared coldly at the center of the devastation, where a massive crater had torn the ground like a meteor had struck.
Where once stood a luxurious mansion, there was now nothing. As if it had been erased by some divine hand with a giant eraser.
"Master, I don't sense any presence nearby."
Medea's keen senses swept the surroundings, her expression calm but sharp.
"My shadow units didn't pick up any movement either," Roland muttered. "Whoever did this is long gone. Judging by the timing... it probably happened during the fight between Enkidu and Gilgamesh."
He walked up to the edge of the pit and peered down.
Not just the worm-infested basement, even the very foundation had been leveled.
"Who could've done this? Something this loud and violent... and no one noticed?"
Medea followed, intrigued. "Do you think it could've been a magus?"
"If it was magical, there's no way you wouldn't have picked up a trace."
"Exactly. Which means... this was done by a Servant."
Roland's mouth curled into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Interesting… My shadow troops have been tracking every Servant and Master active tonight. So where did this one come from?"
"You don't mean…"
Medea trailed off, her brows tightening.
"There's an eighth Servant."
Roland's voice was quiet, but heavy with meaning.
Even with how loose the rules of the Holy Grail War had proven to be, even he hadn't expected a loophole this blatant.
This wasn't just some errant rule-breaker. No, this was something designed to slip through the cracks.
And given that all the other Masters had revealed themselves, even the more eccentric ones, none of them had the kind of power or stealth necessary to pull off something like this unnoticed.
Only a Caster could cheat the rules, and Roland had the Caster in question standing beside him.
"So then who the hell is this interloper? And why target the Matou?"
"Zouken may not be beloved, but attacking the Matou household, a founding family, without context?" Medea said, arms crossed. "If they're not even a Master, it's practically suicidal, they will be targeted by all the masters for wantonly attacking the home of one of the three major families that are a contestant of this holy grail war."
Roland narrowed his eyes, the shadows behind him fanning out like a web of wires, snaking through the dark city.
With no name, no face, no Command Seals, the shadow troops couldn't home in on the enemy just yet. So Roland gave them one directive:
Find the one responsible.
"I couldn't care less if that old worm is dead or not. But the kind of damage we're seeing here... this wasn't a targeted strike. This was pure rage. Indiscriminate destruction."
He turned his gaze slowly, steadily, toward Mount Enzō.
As if his sight could pierce through the mountain itself, his crimson eyes locked onto a distant point. His brow furrowed, and a rare flicker of unease crossed his face.
Ever since being chosen by the Grail, Roland had sensed it: a faint, invisible thread pulling at his soul. A connection.
He had felt it before, when he looked at Irisviel, and sensed the remnants of that demonic flame still lingering faintly within her.
But the signal he felt now… was nothing like that.
It was powerful. And very real.
The feeling had already faded, and there were no visible threats in his immediate vicinity, but Roland didn't dismiss what he'd just experienced.
He never ignored his instincts.
"Caster," he said firmly, "we're heading back. I need your help with something."
"Anything, Master. What do you need?"
He glanced at Medea, who had quietly moved beside him, her expression a mix of alertness and anticipation. She was ready.
"You have a skill, item creation, right?"
"Yes." She blinked, momentarily confused by the question. "It started at rank B, but after integrating some of the myths from later eras, it's reached rank A. I can make items that conform to common sense, such as amulets that increase wealth, and even potions that are close to elixirs of immortality."
Though it didn't sound flashy, this skill was one of Medea's greatest assets. The items she could craft would be considered priceless artifacts to modern magi. With time and material, she could turn even a mundane person into a combatant capable of rivaling true Masters.
But because Roland had never needed her to make such things for himself, most of the tools she'd created so far had gone to Sakura.
Roland turned and began walking back toward their stronghold, the vision of the Matou ruins burned into his mind.
That sensation from the Holy Grail...
Unbelievable. Impossible. And yet...
If it was him, if it was that man, then anything was possible.
"I want to create a special item," Roland muttered, eyes glinting.
"One that can verify a very dangerous guess of mine."