With Kiritsugu Emiya's ringing promise, the air inside the Einzbern castle changed instantly—from heavy grief to a wave brimming with hope and vigor.
In that moment, the strongest new alliance of the Holy Grail War was officially formed.
But Steve didn't allow anyone to luxuriate in this mood for long.
The plan was laid out—now only swift, decisive execution was needed.
"Kiritsugu, I ask that you and Lady Irisviel take Saber and come with me to Ryuudou Temple immediately," he gave his first command.
"Kariya and Berserker are already waiting there. The temple is protected by my 'Temple'—currently, it's the safest place in all of Fuyuki City."
Upon hearing this, Kiritsugu didn't hesitate at all.
He had only just risen from the ruin of his ideals, and now desperately needed a new, clear goal by which to revive the strength of the Magus Killer.
He gazed at Steve deeply and nodded.
"Understood. We'll depart at once.
Iri, Saber, Maiya—let's go."
The man's decisive air had returned, but the coldness was gone.
Instead, he possessed a new steadfast resolve for justice.
After seeing off the four members of the Saber camp leave quickly to rally at the temple, only Steve and the silent young Archer remained in the parlor.
"Shirou,"
Steve turned to him.
"Now it's our turn—to accomplish the most important, final part of the plan."
The young Red Archer lifted his head, grey eyes glinting with complex light.
His recent "reunion" with his foster father, and the reconfirmation of the great plan about to unfold, had deeply shaken him.
He nodded quietly.
"…I understand.
We're heading to Tokiomi's, right?"
"Correct."
Saying no more, the two turned on their heels, leaving that white castle which had witnessed despair and rebirth behind.
Unlike the usual Holy Grail War operations, they walked under the warm afternoon sun.
The city of Fuyuki was peaceful and still, as if there hadn't been a fierce fight just the night before.
Guided by distant memories of home, the young Red Archer quietly led Steve, each step like retracing his forgotten past.
Soon, a grand Western-style mansion appeared:
The residence of the Tohsaka family, lords of Fuyuki City and a renowned lineage of magi.
Ignoring the magic wards shimmering around the house, Steve walked straight up to the wrought-iron gates and pressed the doorbell, as though he were any ordinary visitor.
Ding-dong—
The bell's crisp sound broke the afternoon's calm, like a pebble thrown into the stormy heart lake of Tokiomi Tohsaka…
…
Meanwhile —
In the Tohsaka mansion's workshop, its master frowned at the water mirror before him. He detested and refused to use modern electronic cameras, preferring to scry with magecraft.
The mirror reflected the temple's guests and a red-clad boy at the door.
Tokiomi's heart was in utter turmoil.
This magus had, via his familiars scattered across Fuyuki, been "monitoring" Steve's movements all night.
He had watched as, with lightning speed, Steve "invited" the mad Berserker and his Master, Kariya Matou, to the temple.
This morning, he saw Steve stride boldly through the Einzbern barrier—persuading the infamous "Magus Killer" Kiritsugu Emiya into a formal alliance and gathering his retainers at the temple for standby.
Saber, Berserker, Caster…
Three factions assembled at Ryuudou Temple in less than 24 hours.
If this force were deployed in a normal Holy Grail War, it could crush all other participants outright.
Now, this terrifying Caster had ignored the Tohsaka magical barrier and stood, smiling, at their front door.
Tokiomi's heart pounded violently.
Anxiety, fear, and the humiliation of having his magus pride trampled all tangled within him.
He unconsciously glanced at the corner of the workshop—
There, the world's oldest hero, Gilgamesh, lounged in a leopard-print suit, idly twirling a gold goblet.
He appeared to also see what was happening at the door.
"King, Caster… he—"
Tokiomi's voice was slightly hoarse.
"Hmph, I see it."
Gilgamesh didn't turn, merely smiling in amusement.
"That mongrel is more interesting than I'd thought.
To ring the doorbell openly, instead of sneaking about with assassination or schemes…
What, Tokiomi, are you frightened?"
"No, of course not,"
Tokiomi quickly bowed.
"But the uncertainty is concerning…"
"What's there to worry about?
With me here, a lone Caster can't possibly cause trouble."
At last, the hero king faced him, his crimson snake eyes glittering with interest.
"Let him in.
I want to see what kind of drama this mongrel—who's turned Fuyuki upside down—is planning in front of me."
With the king's permission, Tokiomi felt a bit reassured.
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressed all anxiety, smoothed his appearance, and regained the impeccable dignity of the Tohsaka family head.
Leaving the workshop, traversing the long corridor, Tokiomi reached the entrance and heaved the heavy door open.
Creak—
The door swung wide.
Sunlight poured in, and Tokiomi bowed politely to the man smiling outside.
"Caster, I did not expect your visit. What brings you here?"
"Negotiations, nothing more, Master Tokiomi. No enmity,"
Steve replied amiably.
Entering the opulent living room, Steve saw the legendary king himself, Gilgamesh, lounging as if he owned the place—casting a critical gaze upon Steve like he would a new collector's item.
A faint sheen of sweat appeared on Tokiomi's brow. He walked to the wine cabinet, choosing a treasured Burgundy red, and, with the elegance of ritual, tried to mask his inner tension.
Handing a glass of wine to Steve, he kept his tone calm.
"Then, Caster, state your purpose."
But seeing his guest's hand tremble, Steve decided not to waste time.
He was determined to shatter the magus's "elegance" entirely—with the most precise of bombs.
Just as Tokiomi lifted his glass to his lips in hopes of steadying himself, Steve spoke.
His words were not loud, but to Tokiomi, they rang like thunder.
"Master Tokiomi, would you like me to fulfill both the Tohsaka family's greatest desire—'reaching the Root'—and the completion of the Second Magic?"
Pfft—!!!
Tokiomi abruptly spat a mouthful of deep red wine most inelegantly, staining the priceless carpet before him.
The usually reserved magus turned crimson, coughing violently—the wineglass slipping from his hand and shattering on the floor.
"Cough...what—what did you just say?!"
He didn't even bother to wipe the wine from his lips, looking up in a daze of ecstasy, fear, and disbelief.
The elegance he'd maintained his whole life vanished at that instant.
The king, still seated nearby, was stunned—never had he seen his host look so shamefully undignified.
Then, from the very bottom of his soul, he burst out laughing.
"Hahahaha! Hahahahahahahahaha!
Amusing, so amusing! This mongrel really is interesting!"
Gilgamesh straightened, for the first time genuine, profound interest flickering in those ruby eyes.
Steve had succeeded.
With a single phrase, he commanded the full attention of both key negotiators at once.
…