"As Ruler, I've been manifested here to… preserve the fairness of the Holy Grail War? To eliminate anyone who threatens its order?"
In the rattling cargo bed of a truck, Jeanne d'Arc sat devoutly, her Revelation open, gathering the Holy Grail War's information.
With her unique persuasion, she'd sweet-talked an old truck driver into giving this innocent-looking "schoolgirl" a ride.
Of course, hitchhiking with strangers in a foreign land was even riskier than budget-travel rides across the Tibetan Plateau. The latter might leave you "forced to go wah-wah-wah," but the former often ended in robbery and murder.
Still, should any driver try such thoughts on Jeanne… well, the saint would simply smite another highway bandit into ash under her holy flames.
"A Holy Grail War with fourteen Heroic Spirits… truly, what a mess."
Jeanne sighed, her tone heavy. More than fighting, her heart longed to protect the innocent civilians who would inevitably be caught in the chaos.
Then suddenly, her body froze, her expression turning mechanical and blank.
"Commencing inscription of governing principles. Engraving Saint Graph directives. Inputting compulsory orders."
The voice was cold, lifeless—like the endless ice fields. Simple, pure, direct. A mechanical beauty laced with inevitability.
"Altering Ruler Jeanne d'Arc's subconscious: primary directive of 'preserve fairness of the Holy Grail War' is now replaced with 'eliminate the thief stealing Heroic Spirits—Rhodes Frain Yggdmillennia.' This order overrides all others. Even if the war's structure must be destroyed, this directive must be fulfilled."
"Thus inscribed. By Alaya of the Counter Force. Final authority rests with Alaya-chan, DA☆ZE~~"
Jeanne's golden eyes snapped open. She scanned the surroundings, but nothing was amiss.
"…Why did I doze off? I'm supposed to be a Heroic Spirit…" she murmured, curling up in the truck bed as it rumbled toward the battlefield of the Holy Grail War.
But then her face hardened. She sprang from the truck, leaping high with her banner raised.
Her EX-rank Magic Resistance merged with the banner's holy power, forming the perfect defense that slammed down in front of the truck.
"BOOM—!"
The impact was a spear of flame, crashing onto the banner in a blaze of solar fire. Even without breaking through, the glare seared the eyes and scorched the night.
"Ah!" The old driver screamed, and Jeanne roared in fury.
"What kind of hero ambushes like this?! Are you some cowardly Assassin, striking at uninvolved innocents?!"
"You speak nonsense, Ruler." The cold, aloof voice rang from atop a highway sign.
There stood a youth in gleaming armor, spear in hand, snow-white hair drifting in the wind. His eyes burned with killing intent, his body coiled with feral grace like a panther ready to pounce.
"Lancer of Red—Karna of the Mahabharata. To think a hero like you would stoop to such baseness…" Jeanne spat her words, though Karna merely recalled his shining spear.
"This is my resolve, Ruler." His voice was calm, sharp. "This is a battlefield. On the battlefield, the only truth is death.
"If you lack even that conviction, what right do you have to call yourself a hero, Ruler?"
"You…! So slaughtering the innocent is your excuse?" Jeanne shouted, brandishing her banner, her resolve unyielding.
The clash was seconds away—until another voice cut across the night.
"Go! I choose you—Siegfried!"
A gleaming silver greatsword swung wide as Siegfried charged like a boar, barreling toward Karna on the sign.
Karna had no streetlight's counterattacking flair, no arsenal of countless Noble Phantasms. He leapt down, spear poised, striking from on high toward the dragon-slaying hero.
(Though honestly… "dragon-slaying saint" belongs to Sasaki Kojiro. Siegfried's role here is basically to buff other Servants, isn't it?)
"Ruler! Assist me! Together we'll strike down this rebel who dares attack the arbiter!"
Panting heavily, Gordes came waddling up. Since Rhodes had seized his luxury carriage as "spoils," he'd refused to swallow his pride and call a taxi. Instead, he'd run the entire distance—from Trifas city, through the suburbs, across the highway connector, hurdling barriers, until finally, twelve kilometers later, he staggered onto the freeway.
If he kept this up daily, Gordes might actually slim down. Truly, Rhodes had done the world a favor.
"No. I will not interfere. This is a fair duel between two sides." Jeanne's voice was rigid, her banner slowly lowering.
Gordes's face twisted with pure "ma mai pi" energy, the kind of expression that, if seen by the other Yggdmillennia magi, would earn applause for his artistry.
"I…" Gordes didn't even know what emotion was choking him. He only felt a surge of furious betrayal, a desire to strangle this bizarre "arbiter" with his own hands.
And at that moment, a crimson blaze shot toward him—Karna's spear.
But a shrill cry split the air.
"HYAH! Secret Art—Polygamy Castration Fist!"
A blur of movement—Gordes's fat body soared skyward, hands clutched to his groin.
By sheer "flexibility," he'd dodged Karna's lethal strike.