"This is the data on the Masters participating in this Holy Grail War. Take a look."
The next day, while driving through the streets of Fuyuki, Tenkei Shiomi handed Morgan a stack of documents from the driver's seat.
"Shouldn't you be giving me information on the Servants instead?" Morgan took the documents and started flipping through them, but voiced her doubts.
"You make it sound so easy. That kind of intel isn't just lying around," Shiomi muttered. "Besides, if we want to win the Holy Grail War, it'd be more efficient to target the Masters first."
Morgan glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Every Magus in this war has probably thought of that. It's nothing special."
"Ever heard of Tian Ji's horse racing strategy?" Shiomi smiled. "Match your worst horse against their best, your best against their average, and your average against their worst. Two wins out of three."
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "So you want me to take out the Masters while you stall the Servants? That's a pretty reckless plan. My husband hasn't even entered battle, and you're already throwing in the towel?"
"...I told you, it was just a figure of speech! Don't take it seriously!" Shiomi nearly slammed the brakes as they crossed the Mion River Bridge.
If he had, he really might've become the first Master to be eliminated—by a car crash, no less.
"I don't take orders from anyone, not even a Master. Treating you as my husband is already the most I'm willing to concede." Morgan's tone was calm, but clearly teasing.
Shiomi didn't know Morgan all that well, but he could tell this fairy queen wasn't someone who'd stay subordinate to others for long. He could only silently accept the way she chose to treat her Master.
"Not happy with that?"
"How could I be..." Shiomi gave a dry laugh.
"In the end, you never intended to treat your Servant like a mere familiar, did you?" Morgan pointed out.
Most Magi, to conceal their Servant's true name and emphasize the hierarchy between them, would refer to their Servants by class.
But up to now, Shiomi had never once called Morgan "Berserker."
"No matter how advanced a familiar might be, they're still heroes whose names were passed down through history and legend. I have nothing but respect for beings like that," Shiomi said honestly, a sharp smile playing on his lips. "Of course, if we're talking about gods, that's another matter."
Morgan's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
Just then, the car passed over the Fuyuki Bridge and entered the modern city district.
The scenery shifted abruptly—from traditional streets to a forest of steel and concrete.
Morgan wasn't particularly interested in modern cities, but she didn't mind sightseeing like this, riding in a car.
As they stopped at an intersection waiting for the light to change, Morgan suddenly held her breath, staring intently at a black sedan slowly pulling up to the curb.
Noticing her change in demeanor, Shiomi turned his attention to the car too. Suppressing his Mana, he relied purely on sight to assess the situation.
A blonde woman, barely over 150 centimeters tall, stepped out of the car. Dressed in a sharp black suit, she carried herself with such poise that the masculine attire only enhanced her elegance—a perfect image of a refined beauty in men's clothing.
"That's... Saber?" Shiomi was stunned.
He had only intended to take Morgan for a drive around town to get a feel for the city, but to run into the leader of the Three Knight classes—Saber, the one with the highest class ranking—was more than unexpected.
Morgan's reaction, however, went far beyond surprise.
She recognized Saber.
In the Holy Grail War, when Servants recognize each other, it's a double-edged sword—it often means their true names are at risk of exposure.
A Saber that Morgan recognized, and—there was no mistaking it. That striking, dignified face bore an uncanny resemblance to Morgan herself, save for the difference in skin tone and hair color.
Saber was reaching out to help a woman out of the car—a Homunculus from the Einzbern family, Irisviel von Einzbern.
"Artoria Pendragon..." Morgan spoke Saber's true name. "No, in this age, the more common name would be Arthur Pendragon."
Shiomi narrowed his eyes. "The holy sword wielder who founded the white city of Camelot? King Arthur? The Einzbern family really hit the jackpot."
There had always been rumors that the appearance of certain Servants in the Holy Grail War could trigger unexpected reactions.
Shiomi had dismissed them as baseless superstition—until now. Now, even he couldn't help but believe it.
"They're your enemies. How to handle them is your call," Shiomi said lightly. "I just don't want any mistakes caused by a disagreement."
Morgan then activated a concealment Magecraft. "Let's wait until nightfall—then we'll pay them a visit."
It was obvious that Saber and the Einzbern woman, who appeared to be her Master, were simply sightseeing in Fuyuki during the day.
Their casual wandering through the bustling new city felt nothing like a Master and Servant pair preparing for the Holy Grail War...
Until night fell.
Fuyuki Seaside Park.
Artoria stood watch as Irisviel strolled barefoot along the shoreline, letting the waves lap at her feet. All the while, Artoria kept a wary eye on their surroundings, then suddenly turned with alert precision.
"It's night now. There's no one else around," said the woman dressed in a sharply tailored suit, her voice serious and commanding. "You've been tailing us all day. Isn't it time you showed yourself?"
Irisviel stopped as well, calmly peering from behind Artoria toward the direction of her gaze.
Responding to Artoria's call, a Servant materialized from spiritual form.
When the figure became clear, both Irisviel and Artoria were visibly stunned.
Though their reasons were different.
"She… has the same face as Saber…" Irisviel gasped, covering her mouth in shock.
Even with preparations for the Holy Grail War, this was far beyond anything they expected.
Artoria's shock ran even deeper.
"...Sister."
"Is seeing me really that surprising, Artoria?" Morgan, still clad in modern attire, spoke with a mocking glint in her eye. "Such a strong reaction. I'm flattered."
"Saber's sister… That means you're—" Irisviel suddenly realized.
Artoria snapped out of her daze and glared sharply at Morgan.
"If we're both Servants in this Holy Grail War, then a battle between us is inevitable," she said, raising her guard. "Even if you're my sister, I won't back down."
Unlike Artoria, who was on high alert, Morgan remained relaxed, which only deepened Irisviel's unease.
"Be careful, Saber. Her Master still hasn't shown up... and I can't sense any presence nearby."
"Unfortunately, my Master is a bit of a softie—still busy trying to tuck a child into bed at a time like this," Morgan said with a playful wink.
"Then what are you here for?" Artoria asked.
She could clearly sense that two presences had followed her during the day, but as evening approached, only one remained.
Morgan gave a graceful smile. "When was the last time we met like this?"
"I don't really remember. After I inherited the throne, I was constantly at war, managing the kingdom. You rarely ever came before me," Artoria said plainly.
Morgan looked at her with a gaze that wavered between sympathy and derision. "And in the end, the Britain you fought so hard to unify… still fell apart."
Hit where it hurt most, Artoria furrowed her brows, staring hard at her sister.
After all, the fall of Britain and the disappearance of the White City were closely tied to Morgan.
Yet Artoria never blamed anyone. She only blamed herself—for not being strong enough to be the king her people needed.
She always knew that Britain was destined to fall, but she had hoped its end would be peaceful… not drowned in flames and war.
"That's why I'm here—to participate in the Holy Grail War as a Servant," Artoria said firmly. "What about you?"
"You don't need to know, you wretched Red Dragon."
As she spoke, Morgan's outfit transformed. Mana swirled around her, and as the light faded, she now wore the familiar attire Artoria knew—only this time, her face was unveiled.
In her hand was a long wand shaped like a lance, its blade aimed directly at Artoria.
"Just as I thought…"
Without hesitation, Artoria accepted the battle her sister had brought. In an instant, her sleek black suit vanished, replaced by magic-woven armor.
She understood all too well—she and Morgan were fated to clash. They were utterly incompatible.