---

---

In the end, it had been her curiosity above all else that lead her to this position.

While she professed her loyalty to the Church without a shred of duplicity, the truth was that she had little interest in the veracity of naming this conflict 'the Holy Grail War'. She could care less about its ultimate goal. Perhaps that was why they had approached her in the first place? To be honest, she didn't care. Not when the opportunity that had been afforded to her by her appointment lay right before her eyes.

She had no interest in the Holy Grail itself. Not only because she did not desire it for her own, but because she did not even care about it in the same regard as the Church itself.

If it were a fake? That didn't matter. Nor did it matter if it was the genuine article.

What mattered to her was its capabilities. What mattered to her was who it could call.

Heroic Spirits. Servants. Summoned figures of the history of humanity brought to the present to wage battle against one another. To claim this Holy Grail.

That was where her interest lay. The opportunity to meet these people, to see who they were, to see their true nature. That was what she desired.

She clasped her small, delicate, frail hands together in prayer as her eyes regarded the moonlight. The night was still quite young. The sun had only just set.

She had accepted the role of the Church's Overseer for the sake of witnessing them.

A smirk crossed the lips of the Overseer.

She had accepted the role of the Church's Overseer to watch them struggle.

---

The first night approached.

She was nothing if not confident.

For what reason had she prepared? For what reason had she been born in the first place? This was her purpose, and she wouldn't fail.

Especially given the spirit she had summoned in the first place.

Her long black hair hang over her back as one of the maids provided by her remaining relatives brushed it. The small girl, appearing to be nothing more than a child, sat with her legs kicking lightly as she considered the course the war would take.

Undeniably, no matter who her opponents may be, she was going to claim victory. It was a simple fact, not only backed up by self-confidence but also by her capacity as a magus, as a homunculus.

She was tied to this land. The Sakurazawa bloodline always had been, but Hitomi herself was even more intrinsically linked to the land by her very nature. As long as the battle took place here, there was no doubt in her mind that she would win.

Not that there was any reason to doubt she'd win in the first place.

"... I am done, ojou-sama," the maid's voice said behind her.

"Good, good. There's no reason not to look my best tonight, after all," she declared, smiling to herself as she slipped off her seat and looked back over her shoulder, "Not that my opponents will be capable of appreciating the fact that I am."

Her smile only broadened.

Ah, the strain on her when she'd summoned her Servant hadn't been the most pleasant experience, really... it had hurt inside of her stomach when she initially called him from the throne.

But it had faded swiftly, and Hitomi was greeted with a powerful figure from Japan's history. Not only a native heroic spirit, but one whose name was known through the country for his exploits.

Sakata Kintoki, one of the Four Heavenly Kings of Minamoto no Yorimitsu.

... Who had immediately asked if she was feeling well when as she recovered from the initial summoning, which was a little unexpected... but not unwelcome... but still!

She had summoned a powerful Servant, and she was going to take advantage of this to the fullest.

Hitomi left her room, followed by her maids, and headed downstairs.

"Are you ready, Berserker?" she asked, arms placed on her hips, "We're going to teach our opponents that they never should have tried to enter this Holy Grail War!"

@1Charak2@Rin@Raineh Daze@KoL@King Cosmos@Vahir

Travelling to Japan across the breadth of the world had been entirely uneventful compared to the runup, which had almost inexplicably--to Evelyn, at least--involved strange, hushed meetings with Church officials. Who was she, what did she want, who was putting her up to this? Despite Elisabeth's insistence that this was for her own safety, it had felt rather like she was being assessed for death. The later explanation that this was entirely true but still preferable to getting the information from an actual magus had been... disquieting. As much as she disliked her eyes, having them plucked from her head and her arm cut off as a key into this war was a step down from wearing a blindfold.

Once in Japan... well, she was a girl of limited means; there was no fancy catalyst for her summoning. All Evelyn could do was hope that whatever spirit most resonated with her was strong enough to have a chance at victory. So far, she seemed fortunate...? Orion was a legendary figure, the second most identifiable constellation and likely the greatest hunter to have ever lived. How that would translate into fighting other Servants, though, or if he was really all that... she couldn't say for sure.

For some reason, Elisabeth had taken a near immediate dislike to him and started arguing over nothing much in particular. Not enough to refuse his assistance in reaching their current position, though, as she begrudgingly stood beside the hulking figure and looked down at the city.

Evelyn, having no business standing near the edge of a skyscraper like those two, had instead seated herself cross-legged in the middle of the roof and lit up a cigarette.

"You really think you can spot a Servant from up here? They're probably hiding," Elisabeth said, doubting that anyone would do anything to reveal themselves so blatantly. "I'm telling you, we'd be better off checking with the Overseer. Last thing we need is to antagonise the Church."

---

"Yo, Master!" the Berserker said, uncharacteristically cheerful for... basically anyone summoned into that class, as he turned around to look at her. From somewhere else in the mansion, he'd managed to pull a full-length mirror and had, until her appearance, been admiring himself in it. That, at least, was something trivial for him to do. How the man had so rapidly acquired a change of clothes and sunglasses...? Well, his shopping ability was probably golden, too.

"Feelin' better now? My ol' costume ain't golden enough, so I got somethin' fresh that should fit in more."

Not that he really had any hope of fitting in. If there was one thing Kintoki wasn't, it was subtle. Or unobtrusive.

---

The Holy Grail War...a ritual to summon Heroic Spirits, powerful figures from throughout human history, from their resting place at the Throne of Heroes, and have them vie for supremacy in battle. The final prize was nothing but the Holy Grail itself—or rather one of the many objects to ever be called by that name—an all-mighty wish-granting device.

"That's an impressive idea, huh?" In Kyrsi's opinion, there was something amiss with this ritual. It all sounded too good to be true, or perhaps, a little incomplete. She decided to take part in it just to see if how false this advertisement was, and maybe learn a thing or two. Most important of all, the part about summoning Heroic Spirits was true!

Kyrsi found that baffling when she finished the summoning ritual and found herself face to face with a...Caster? Yeah, that had to be it. After all, there was no other explanation for what kind of Servant would answer her summons. Of course, Kyrsi would have preferred something more dashing like a Saber or a Rider, but at least she won the cutesy lottery it seems. All that was left to do now, is go out and win this war!

"Hey, Caster, I know you probably want to set a workshop or something like that. But, what do you say about going out and scouting the area personally first?" Kyrsi asked of her Servant while rummaging through a pile of random clothes. "I even have the perfect disguise if you want to remain incognito," she said as she pulled a pair of garish yellow raincoats.

---

A black sedan pulled into the front of the Golden Plaza Sako Hotel. Nobody paid much attention to it: the four star hotel was one of the most expensive in the region, and as small as Sako was, it had a regular influx of wealthy businessmen and government officials who were not shy in their ostentatiousness. Of course, that the young man that stepped out was a foreigner solicited some curious glances, but even Sako had its international business. And dressed as he was in a black suit and sunglasses, he mixed right in with the crowd in the lobby. He was followed by an older man and woman, equally well dressed. The former pushed a trolley with suitcases and bags; the later carried only a slender black briefcase.

The receptionist, it can be imagined, was a bit perplexed to find himself having to deal with a trio of westerners. Just my luck, he thought, annoyed. He occasionally had to deal with foreign visitors, of course, but they usually had interpreters with them. There was nothing to do about it: he would have to rely on what little he remembered of his high school english classes. As he started stammering, though, the young man leaned onto the desk. He took off his glasses, and just looked at the receptionist with bored green eyes. And spoke in perfect Japanese, albeit with a strange accent.

"You're going to want to get your manager."


"Sir, you don't understand. There's just no room."

In a large and meticulously ordered office, an old man sighed and rubbed his forehead in exasperation. He'd worked his entire life for the company, and managed to become the manager of the Sako hotel branch through fanatical adherence to company policy and a deep well of patience. But even that well was running dry right now. He was already up to his eyeballs in dealing with the conference visitors, he didn't need to deal with a foreign rich kid who didn't understand how a reservation worked. "There's... there's absolutely no room. Zero. Nothing. We're completely booked with the International Apiculture Development Conference, there are no rooms that I could offer you even if I wanted to."

The kid in front of him was just leaning back, fingers steepled, completely expressionless, looking at him as if he were an infant having a tantrum. "So make room," he said quietly.

"Make-" The manager blinked in disbelief at the spoiled brat's arrogance. "Look, there's a Golden Plaza in Oga that's more sizable, you might have better luck there. Or you can find another hotel in Sako. I'm sorry, sir, but there's nothing more I can do for you, I'm very busy and have other business to get to. Maybe try reserving in advance next time."

"I apologize, I must not have made clear who I am. I'm Renaud de Gusicard, heir of the Maison de Guiscard."

"I don't know who that is, and frankly I don't care."

"You should, you fool," Renaud snapped icily. "You see this watch? It's a Verriac, artisan crafted, one of a kind. It's worth ten times the car I rode here. I own it because my family is the oldest and wealthiest house west of the Rhine." He glanced back. "Louise! Sortez-le, l'ignorant mérite un lesson d'histoire."

One of the two figures behind him, a dark-skinned woman in her fourties, stepped forward, snapping open the briefcase as she did. The manager's objection was cut off with a gasp as he took in the sight of a beautiful golden scepter crowned with a double headed eagle spreading its wings. It seemed to glow. Or was everything else darkening in its presence?

Renaud leaned back and pulled it out of its case, and held it over the desk with both hands. "This is the Scepter of Chartres. Forged by an ancestor of mine, Lucbald de Chartres. Priceless, beyond what you can even comprehend. It's been passed down, uninterrupted, in my family for a thousand years. It was carried by the Guiscards who advised Capetians, Valois, Bourbon, and, occasionally, Plantagenets. If I were mad enough to sell it, I could buy your entire pathetic chain and tear this hotel down. I own it - or rather, my family owns it - because we are the among most distinguished and prestigious lines of Europe."

He gripped the scepter, feeling his mana feed into the mystic code as he stared, unblinking, in the old man's eyes. "So, when I tell you to make room, it's because it's an incredible honour for you to have me staying in this... fine establishment. Unless the prestige of having accommodate someone of my caliber does not interest you, or your superiors?"

The manager simply stared, mouth agape, unable to form a coherent reply for several long moments, his eyes unfocused. Suddenly, he shook himself off. "Yes, of course, I apologize. I wasn't in my right mind." His voice was faltering, almost dazed. "I'll find something. We can maybe... maybe get one of the guests a room in another local hotel, and pay for it as compensation."

"See that you do," Renaud said simply as he got up from the chair, putting his glasses back on. He took a moment to admire the scepter again, a faint smile coming to his lips, before placing it gently back in its case. Louise clamped the case shut.



"What now, sir?" Maxime asked.

Renaud glanced at the two from the other end of the large suite they had been granted. It wasn't up to his usual standards, but he had to admit, for a small city it wasn't terrible. Three bedrooms, a lounge, a small kitchen, and all in western style. It could certainly have been worse.

"Well, now I do my part," he said casually. "We were fortuitous with the number of rooms, I'd say: One for you two, one for me, and another for... well, for my business. You can see the sights - what sights there are in a place like this, anyway - or go get something to eat, or whatever suits your fancy. I'm not planning on going anywhere. The rest of my day will be a bit tiring, and after all that travelling the last thing I want is another drive anyway."

Louise smiled. "That sounds perfect, sir. Maxime and I are going to check out a restaurant we heard about here, apparently it-"

"I really don't need to know the details," Renaud interrupted. He waved dismissively from the couch. "Go, have fun. While we still can."

It didn't do to be too close to servants, he reflected when he was left alone. That goes for aristocrats, and doubly so for magi. He knew the couple's names, their duties - to, as needed, cook, clean, and drive him as he pursued his war unimpeded by mundane matters - and that's about all he needed to know. They were paid, of course: while some mages used magic to control the minds of their subordinates, the Guiscards had long found that to be a crude and unreliable art. The human brain, faced with magical control, tends to resist, which always seems to cause incidents at the worse possible times. The Scepter was symbolic of his family's wisdom and mastery: instead of dominating the mind, true power came from suggestions, subtle and reasonable. Give the mind an idea, empower it with magic, trick it into thinking it had come up with it... that was true control.

Not that they were controlled that way either. As his mother was fond of saying: frankly, money ensures the loyalty of the common rabble far more reliably than any magic could.

Still, while after long service they were trusted to be blind and mute, Renaud found their presence inconvenient. The less involved they were with the Holy Grail War, the better. This was his war, and he wasn't so heartless as to want to see them caught up in it any more than necessary. A true mage of his caliber fights their battles alone. La noblesse oblige, after all.

He got up with a heavy sigh. No point in delaying. It was time.



He had, in the end, needed to make some alterations to the third room. The bed, to his incredible annoyance, took up far too much of the room, and he had to spend half an hour dragging it out of the room's too-small door, cursing himself for telling Louise and Maxime to leave as he did so. But he eventually managed to get it into the lobby, his first victory in this holy grail war.

The floor space freed, he was able to begin drawing the summoning circle, using materials he had brought in all that luggage. This was not as difficult as he had feared, no doubt in part because he had practised this very ritual for two decades now. He did catch his hand shaking as he started: What's wrong with me?, he wondered. I'm... excited. Yes, excited. His entire life had been endless, brutal, agonizing training for this war. This was the culmination of his existence, his entire raison d'être. He couldn't be blamed for being a bit excited for that.

"Foolish boy," he could imagine his mother snear in his head. "Of course you can be blamed for that. Your incompetent hand will ruin the ritual. Control yourself. Your duty to your name is more important than your sentimentality."

"Careful now," he muttered to himself as he drew the lines. He did not make any errors, to his relief. His hand might be shaky, but years of drills guided him.

I think that's it. It's done. Everything was ready. All he needed now was...

He pulled a small box out of a coat pocket, and opened it. He pulled out its content: A small scrap of paper, ancient, lined with faded kanji characters. This was it, the catalyst that he'd been given. With this, he could summon...

"This servant is ideal for our cause," his grandfather, his voice frail from disease, had told him. "Summoned to her native land, her abilities will be all the more considerable. Of those masters we know in this war, none have a native catalyst such as this: in this way, with luck, we will be in an advantaged position."

"And also," his mother had interjected, "What we know of her legend indicates that she is, among servants, most likely to be attuned to our own desires. A servant who understands the importance of honour, of duty, of family... unity in purpose will lead you to victory more surely than pure power ever could."

Yes. That was all true. But in spite of all that - or perhaps because of it? - he felt nervous looking at this scrap of paper. He was about to summon a being on a level of existence far, almost incomprehensibly, beyond his own. One who was nearly the embodiment of his family's ideals. In a sense, his lifetime of effort and training was about to be put judgment. He silently prayed his power and strength of will would not be found wanting.

For the Maison de Guiscard.

He knelt to the circle. "Fill, fill fill...."

---

"Oi Oi, Liz don't complain so much about this just yet" Orion would say his hulking frame looking over the edge of the large building to ascertain a look at what he was dealing with. He simply wanted to know each and every turn and bend of the city. Each potential point from which prey could be cornered or to which he could run from fish that were potentially too big for him. If this was a battle with legendary heroes after all, he could end up fighting heros that were way out of his element.

"A hunter must hunt right? So once I've gotten a good look at this city, We'll run to the church right away Liz, if Master agrees." The Archer would say taking in the night air. The atmosphere of the modern world was much different to that from his own time. He wouldn't exactly call it an improvement, but it was a wonder how far humanity was getting without help from the gods.

That and he had already spotted a couple of pretty girls. His master and her friend non-withstanding. On the way here. Even in this day and age, there were pretty women and that was enough for him to keep picking up his bow and go on hunts. Even if there wasn't much dangerous wildlife in a city. He was hunting the most dangerous game of them all. Still. It was kind of fun to be able to be out and going again. He would stretch upwards flexing those oversized muscles of his as he leant back, looking up at the moon for a half moment before turning back to his own master.

"Alright I got what I wanted. Now do you both need a lift back down?" The bear-faced man would grin a bit more motivated now he knew the layout of the city better. Happy to carry his master and her friend all the way to the overseer if need be. "Or do you want to stay up here a bit and enjoy the coldness of the night air" He'd say looking over at Elizabeth, already guessing she wouldn't want to do such a casual thing, even if they had some respite before the fighting started

---

Fire. Fire and blood. A night sky dyed crimson with the grudges of countless warriors. The blood of her father, brother, everyone that she ever cared for.

Those were the last things to be engraved on Caster's mind before she left this world almost a thousand years ago. Despite all of their effort. Despite the peaceful life she left behind to join her brother's attempt at avenging their father's demise, overcoming the Genji oppressors wasn't Taira's fate. Nevertheless, Caster stood with him to the very bitter end. And to this day, she still burned with hatred for those who opposed them and the world they built, trampling on their corpses.

All those feelings run through her mind after answering the summoning ritual. "To think that a modern mage would be brave, or foolish, enough to deal with forces far beyond their comprehension..." Caster thought as she tilted her head and gazed at her Master with emotionless, crimson eyes.

"A foreigner, huh? Perhaps that's for the better," she said after a brief moment of silence when the only sign she wasn't a mirage would be the faint smell of wet earth mixed with higanbana perfume.

"I'm the Caster Class Servant, Takiyashahime of the Taira clan. If that's of your agreement, our contract is formally sealed," Caster introduced herself in an elegant, albeit in an old-fashioned, way.

"If you are not opposed to it, I would like to begin working on a workshop immediately. A temple, or shrine, would do well for that. Especially if it has a cemetery attached to it as became customary in this era," Caster said as she approached her Master and looked him in the eyes. Despite being a more than a head smaller than him, and the fact she was behaving subserviently as befit her position, Caster still exuded the imposing aura of one born and raised to a splendid noble household and wouldn't part with it for as long as this Holy Grail War lasted.

In matters such as this, it was important to take things slowly. One mistake, one slip and it would spell certain doom for Huang and possibly her whole family as well; such were the dangers involved.

When she thought about it in those terms, it never failed to get her blood pumping. How many could do as she was doing now? How many had the nerve or the steady hand that was required? How many were willing to risk their lives for a little extra power? Not many and certainly none to the same degree as her.

She was born for this.

Huang extended a hand, reaching into the open maw of the giant snake and bringing it perilously close to the deadly fangs with a glass vial between her fingers. She held the vial so that the tip of the fang, longer than her entire hand, rested just inside the rim and watched as the secreted poison began to run down the sides and collect at the bottom.

It was unfortunate that the Huang family had never found a better way of extracting the venom from their masterful creation than this; at times she couldn’t help but wonder how her family had survived as long as it had, since if she so much as brushed a hand against those fangs, if either she or the creature moved at the wrong time, she would be dead before she realised she had made a mistake. They’d lost more than a few promising young practitioners to the creature over the centuries; although, how promising were they to allow themselves to die in such a way?

Perhaps it was intentional? Being able to collect this creature’s venom could be seen as a rite of passage in a way; a final test. Those who were too scared to even dare approach it were unfit to lead the family and those who couldn’t keep a steady hand were equally useless; if they were unable to face what they had achieved to date then how could they ever surpass it?

Although, she could hardly blame them when it liked to coil its large body around her whenever she did this, encircling her and trapping her within its grasp; teasing her with the fact that it could crush her at a moment’s notice, should it wish it. Had the creature possessed anything like a personality she might think it was doing it intentionally to see if she would falter, but such an idea was foolish; perhaps it was merely animal instinct, or maybe barely restrained hatred.

Once the vial was filled to the brim she moved away, the creature uncoiling its body out of her way. She pressed a stopper into the vessel and placed it gently into a wooden rack already laden with similar vials. With that, the last of her preparations were complete; she had summoned her Servant, she had established her workshop, she had erected the bounded fields that would both hide and protect her. The only thing left was the war itself.

In other words, the hard part was done and now she could have some fun.

The most dangerous part was over after all. It wouldn’t be her doing the fighting during the war after all and it wouldn’t be her dying should things turn out poorly. That task she would leave to her dear Servant.

Speaking of which.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Rider; it’s a delicate process and I needed my focus.” Huang turned to face the man in question. He was younger than she would have thought, in the prime of his youth rather than the experienced warlord she had expected; unless this was how he looked as he conquered the world, in which case how nice for him. So long as he possessed the strength and ability then his appearance didn’t matter.

So long as he had the ability.

“Tell me Rider; as one of the greatest conquerors ever to exist, how would you go about winning this war?”

----



The animals were not very talkative tonight.

Or rather, they were saying quite a lot but most of them seemed more interested in who he was than in giving him any information. Being able to communicate with animals didn’t mean being able to command them after all; he could merely hold a conversation with them and unlike the animals of his homeland, with whom he was well acquainted, the birds and beasts of Japan saw him as a stranger.

Most fled at his approach and those that stayed were too curious to be of much use; it wasn’t every day that they met a human who could understand them after all.

He leaned back against the rough bark of the tree he was sat in, arm outstretched as he allowed an inquisitive little bird perch on his finger. Those animals that lived in the centre of the city seemed most unafraid of him, so he thought he might have better luck in a park than the wilderness on the outskirts; alas, they had seen nothing of note as of yet.

”I’m afraid this isn’t going too well Master. I’ve made a few new friends, but so far I haven’t found a hint of our enemies.”

---

A shrine? A cemetery? He should have seen this coming. They'd meticulously planned every detail of this grail war, of course Caster would want to base herself in a nexus of magical energy. And her tone - Grandfather had always told him he needed to establish himself as the familiar's master, especially with a caster-class servant. A heroic spirit such as this might exploit any perceived weakness for their own advantage, perhaps even magically dominate their master if they deemed them too weak. A life of preparation and confidence came crashing down on him as, for a brief moment, it seemed to him as if he was doing everything wrong, and-

"If you believe it would be advantageous to do so, by all means," he replied dismissively as he got up to his feet, showing no hint of unease. "There is such a shrine in Sako, though it is beyond my current resources to commandeer it. Consider securing the site to be your first task as my servant, then." He checked the time lazily, as if unfazed by the feudal japanese sorceress that just materialized from thing before him. "I do not care how you achieve this, so long as the secrecy of magecraft is maintained."

"In the meantime, I am drained from my preparation and this ritual." Which he certainly was, he felt ready to collapse at any moment, his fatigue not helped by the steady drain of mana to maintain his servant. "I am going to sleep. I expect when I awake a servant of your caliber will be able to have secured a site for a workshop and make a report."

Without another word, he turned out of fog-filled room and into his own quarters, slumping against the door as he shut it.

Show no fear. Show no uncertainty. Hesitation is death.

For now, I rest, he thought. Then we find the other masters, and win the war. As he drifted to sleep leaning against the door, unable to put off his exhaustion any longer, his mother's words echoed in his mind.

"...And above all, you must win back our honor by destroying that Huang bitch."

---

The Khan of Khans watched the chinese witch work her strange magecraft, keeping a fascinated eye in spite of his bored expression. Truth be told, he did not think much of her when he was first summoned to this world. This was in part due to her evident wealth - he distrusted those who had never known privation or squalor - and partly because of her ethnicity. The Han and their southern kin were, in his experience, weak and cowardly, a people of serfs fit only to be ridden over, threatening only behind their damnable walls.

But it had not taken long for him to see that this woman was something fierce, worthy of being called his master. Even this strange ritual - mocking death in such a way, risking all for power? She, who had the appearance of a deer, but the heart of a wolf, was equal to any of his Noyans in life.

He was leaning against a wall, juggling his scimitar in the air and catching the blade with his hand, when she asked her question. "How would I win this war? Curious thought," he answered in a bored tone. "The answer seems obvious. Terror will not help us here, as our enemies will fight to the death. Destroy one, and the rest will turn on us as a threat."

"But as dangerous as a pack of wolves is, a lone wolf is easy prey. Division is our ally." Dropping his feigned boredom, he gave her a wolfish grin. "So we feign weakness. They will aim for the tallest trees first: we encourage this from the shadows. We seed discord, we provoke, we foster conflict and hatred amongst these warriors. When they are too distrustful of one another to form a united front, then we strike."

He spoke with complete certainty. He was not saying what might be, but what would be. He was the favoured son of Blue Heaven, after all.

---

"The practitioners of this era developed a very unusual custom, I see. Nevertheless, you needn't worry. I—This humble Satsuki—am very used to being discrete in all things," Caster answered her Master's in a pleasing voice. Her tone—and indeed her very appearance—changed halfway through her sentence, to something much more fitting of her earlier days as an exiled nun.

"With your permission, I'll depart, then. However—before that—please have this. Place it under your pillow and it shall aid in your expeditious recovery," Caster said, taking her leave after handing a katashiro—a paper doll—bound to a healing shikigami to her Master.


Caster arrived at the shrine not that long after leaving her Master's hotel room. Weak as she may be in comparison to the other Classes, this servant body was indeed a very convenient tool for Caster. Not only was it much faster and durable than she ever could dream of, but the ability to enter the realm of the spirits without complex rituals also had a number of priceless applications. Caster could only wonder what she would have been able to do if she mastered such magecraft while she was alive.

Nevertheless, dwelling in the past was pointless.

As she expected, the shrine was built on excellent ground. A perfect workshop for her to stay for the duration of this Holy Grail war. She could even feel the presence of a barrier that rejected spiritual bodies, no doubt erected when fending off youkai and vengeful kami was a daily task for the shrine inhabitants.

Taking back her physical form, Caster approached the shrine on foot. From now on, she wasn't the Caster Class Servant Takiyashahime, but Satsuki, a nun from far away on a pilgrimage to Hokkaido. Even if this was a Shinto shrine instead of a Buddhist temple, gaining entrance to the premises on the pretense of being a weary traveling nun in need of a place to rest her sore feet for a few days wouldn't a hard task. Especially when she had with her a "letter of recommendation written by a friend from Kyushu" to present to the shrine's head priest.

The sight before Hitomi's eyes was her Berserker outfitted like some sort of stereotypical delinquent, the type who might hang around alleyways and engage in street corner brawls over the honor of a woman or something of that nature.

Just how had he acquired that clothing so quickly?!

"I suppose golden is one word for it," commented the small girl, waving one hand as she did, "But I don't think you have a chance of blending in looking like that."

Sakata Kintoki was a huge, muscular man who would stand out in a crowd of bodybuilders, let alone the average person.

However, that wasn't her concern at the moment.

"Hmph, it will do for tonight I suppose," Hitomi folded her arms across her chest with a nod to herself. She already had a plan for the proceedings tonight.

She had summoned a legendary figure born on these very lands, in a class that could enhance his already-impressive capabilities, and yet in his case left his mind intact.

There was no reason not to press her advantage.

"Berserker, we're going to strike first," she began, "Any one of our opponents on the streets tonight will soon learn to regret their decision."

@Raineh Daze

---

"I am Mordred, the one and only true heir of King Arthur Pendragon!"

She had arisen from the circle with a singular purpose in mind. She had felt the call, not only from someone seeking to summon a Heroic Spirit, but from someone using a catalyst tied to the round table itself.

A worthless piece of trash, for sure, but an opportunity she would not, could not, pass up.

"So, are you my Master?"

The woman who had summoned her, who had answered her, was...

... kind of a disappointment, but whatever. On the overweight side it looked like, though it was hard to tell with the clothing she was wearing, definitely not the type who was used to any kind of fighting.

but whatever. It's not like she had to do any fighting, right?

Saber knew she could take care of all of it by herself. The blonde knight knew there wouldn't be any problem. She was going to crush their opposition and claim her wish, claim the throne, for herself! Just as was her right!

To her dismay, the 'strategy' that her Master chose to employ in spite of her eagerness to strike first was to remain in this apartment, doing as little as possible, in a bid to wait for opponents to come to them instead.

Mordred couldn't stand it.

Being cooped up inside without doing anything would be bad enough even if there wasn't a chance to be taking out her enemies, but all they'd done for two whole days was stay inside while her Master occasionally reinforced the bounded field surrounding her home.

It was maddening. She didn't care if this catered to her Master's skillset or whatever! She was the one fighting! and she wanted to fight!

She'd had enough.

"That's it, Master! We're going out tonight, and we're going to enter this war already! I'm not going to sit here like a coward any longer!"

At this point, grabbing her Master's hand and physically dragging her from the house into the night seemed like the only course of action.

So it's exactly what she did.

@Rin

"If you can't see anything, we should get going," Evelyn said, stubbing out the remains of the cigarette and standing up, "Being up here feels too exposed."

Although it seemed unlikely that anyone was watching them from up here, if they could get on top of a building so easily, what was to say that nobody would have some form of aerial surveillance? She didn't get the idea that mages were big on drones but if everyday people had a way to snoop on rooftops, mages had to have their own ways to do the same.

Elisabeth looked over at Orion, weighing whether it would really be so bad to just jump... except that yes, it definitely was too high to simply leap off. "Fine."

---

Kintoki didn't seem the slightest bit deterred at his Master's lack of faith in his disguise, or maybe even he thought that blending in was too much to hope for as long as he looked more foreign and less like the legendary hero that he was. Not that Kintoki's bulging muscles would ever help there. "We're going out now? Alright!"

Whether or not Hitomi was entirely ready, she seemed to have set Kintoki in motion, being swept up under one arm and carried out the door immediately--only for the golden man to pause right outside the door and instead put her down on his shoulders. "So, Boss, where to?"

---

Gaining access to the shrine was easier than Caster anticipated. The Head Priest seemed to buy her story at face value, even though she was more or less sure he somehow saw through her nature as a spiritual being, even if unintentionally. Perhaps, he and his family had some kind of latent psychic ability, or leftover mediumnic power from their bloodline?

At any rate, that didn't matter for Caster at the moment. she would have plenty of time to investigate it later.


Now that she secured a base of operations, she quickly set up a workshop on her guest room. This place was located on some really good spiritual grounds. Bing abe to tap into this land's leylines without fear of giving away her position easily would be quite the advantage.

Right after that, she sent out some scout shikigami, bound to beautifully folded origami cranes, to scout some parts of the city where enemies would be likelier to gather. To her luck, it didn't take long for one of them to find a strangely dressed, but rather well-built, man talking the animals at a park.

Caster couldn't see his armaments, but judging by his build and attire, he was certain to be one of the Knights, or maybe Rider. An excellent opportunity for her to test the mettle of her skills against a qualified warrior.


Moments later, a trio of decrepit ashigaru skeletons, wearing scraps of rotten armor and rusty naginata rose from the shadows close to the other Servant's position. They advanced at a steady and slow pace, trying to intimidate him with cries of terror.

It was time for Caster to take her first move on this Holy Grail War.

---

"Ow ow! No need to rush, Saber. I know it took a little longer than expected for me to find these disguises, but we are totally ok to go now," Kyrsi said after an eager Saber threatened to drag her out of her house if she didn't speed up. Kyrsi didn't know about Saber's time, but modern ladies had their priorities. Such as finishing some touches on a pair of yellow raincoats, embroidering some distraction charms to them.

With that said and done, though, Kyrsi was more than happy to comply. Not only that, but she had the perfect idea of where to check first...

"What do you say of checking out the Church first? I heard that someone I know might be staying there. If that's true, we might be able to kill two birds with one stone, maybe literally," Kyrsi said with a radiant smile stamped on her face.

"Will that be fine with you, Saber?"

"Haah? Why didn't you say so before?" Mordred cocked her head, one eyebrow raised. The church wasn't even particularly far, was it? Jeez, all that sitting around and waiting when they had a potential opponent so close by?!

"Jeez, Master, I had an opportunity to kick one of our opponents' asses this whole time..." the blonde knight folded her arms, having finally released her Master's hand after dragging her for full city block's worth of distance, "Let's go. I was tired of just sitting around already!"

There was no doubt in her mind. If Saber met an opponent in combat tonight, she'd beat them. There wasn't the slightest question. She was the heir to the throne of Camelot, and a powerful knight. One of the most powerful, ever!

Whoever she faced, they were going to regret stepping up to take her on.

@KoL

“Hmm, divide and conquer then.” It sounded so simple, but she knew that these things were never as easy as they sounded. Rider was talking about directing this war from behind the scenes after all, playing history’s greatest heroes and villains against each other for their own benefit.

How interesting.

She’d been told her whole life that it was better to keep her head down, hide in the shadows, and be patient. ‘The tallest trees are the first to be cut down’, how many times had she heard those exact words? To hear them again now chafed, in what should have been her moment of glory, but she could be patient; for the grail, she could be infinitely patient.

“Fine. Then let’s get started immediately; what do you say to a little scouting expedition Rider?” She leaned against the counter behind her, sitting demurely on the edge of a surface laden with deadly poisons. “We can’t hide away in the shadows then our absence will be noticed; if we’re to feign weakness then we need to be seen as weak. Go out and find one of the other Servants and fight them, drag it out for as long as you can, then run with your tail between your legs.”

Huang smiled then, but it had a cruel edge to it; lips curling up and teeth bared. “If you can draw more than one of them and goad them to fight each other then all the better.”

@Vahir

----



The birds flew away. Perhaps they could sense the malignant energy in the air as the skeletons appeared, or perhaps it was the tensing of Lancer’s muscles that scared them away; in either case, they had all fled by the time Lancer dropped down from the tree to face the undead. All of the animals had, leaving the park eerily quiet.

”Ah, never mind, it seems they’ve found me instead.”

Jangar regarded the skeletons coolly, unafraid despite their ghastly appearance and dreadful cries. He placed a hand on his chin and made a thoughtful noise as he examined them; they wore scraps of armour and carried weapons that were distinctly Japanese in origin and they appeared to be adorned with origami figures; the creations of a Japanese Servant perhaps, or was this aesthetic simply because of where they had been made?

One of the skeletons lunged forward when it was close enough, swinging its naginata at him in a downward stroke that was suddenly deflected off of the haft of an oversized spear that had not been there a moment ago. Jangar responded with a kick that caught the skeleton in the chest, cracking a couple ribs but doing little more than shoving the creature back.

”Shall I try and capture one? We might be able to learn something of its creator.”

Stepping forward, Jangar spun on the ball of one foot and swung his spear backhanded, catching the foremost skeleton in the temple with the haft just below the blade. The skull cracked and shattered, practically exploding from atop the undead’s shoulders from the force of the hit.

”Answer quickly, if you can. They won’t last long.”

@KoL@1Charak2

---

Renaud eventually woke up from his collapse, still clutching Caster's strange charm. He certainly felt rejuvinated: he could not dispute its power of healing. All fatigue was gone, and he was filled with energy once more. He was somewhat in awe of what he was holding, in fact: he had seen many ancient and treasured magic items in both his family's possession and the Clock Tower's, and this was easily the equal of any of them. And she had simply given this doll that emanated power like a beacon to him like it was nothing. Truth be told, he was a bit annoyed that she had given him it, as if to patronize him, her master. And even worse, he knew the real reason he was annoyed was that she dwarfed his skill as a magus in every way. Perhaps it would have been better to have summoned a Berserker or a Lancer instead? It might have spared his ego.

It might also have spared himself some bad dreams. He wasn't sure what he had seen - glimpses of fire and death, nothing good - and he found himself wondering whether a link to any servant would give such unsettling nightmares, or if it was unique to Takiyashahime. Her war had ended in ignominious defeat, he knew: hopefully, his own line wouldn't meet the same miserable end as hers.

When he shook off from himself those melancholic thoughts, he found a special small box among the many that had been brought up. He opened it, revealing a number of small bones inscribed with runic carvings. He grasped them gingerly. The Scepter might be his family's most treasured possession, but these were certainly their oldest. These were no chicken bones, though the uneducated observer might not recognize that fact: these belonged to creatures that had not walked the earth for over a thousand years.

Divination was an art that many magi shunned, for good reason. Whether it was augury, haruspicy, or his own specialty of scapulimancy, those that tried to read the fates rarely met with success. Answers were often vague and unhelpful; if you could even read the answer, it was incredibly difficult to discern the true meaning, as divination magic seemed to have a twisted sense of humor. Even as talented as he was in this art - he was certainly the best he knew, better even than his mother - he had to proceed carefully and know the limitations. Attempts to discern one own's fate never ended well, he knew, so he would studiously avoid inquiring of his own future... directly, in any case.

"Wyrd bið ful aræd", he muttered as he held the bones in his hands. Fate is inexorable. He felt a small stream of mana imbue on the bones, and he felt the runes reciprocate the connection. Most oracles you could find worked their power this way, imbuing mana into conduits to reveal the fates - those that weren't charlatans, of course. Naturally most did not truly comprehend what they were doing.

Neither did his ancient ancestors, the shamans of the north. Much as his family liked to imagine themselves refined and noble, this was their dark secret: They were descendents of fur wearing savages who sailed south in longships to reave and conquer Europe. Les Normands. The Guiscards brushed that truth under the rug, and pretended as if they were always aristocrats living in palaces, and creating refined artifacts like the Scepter as if to solidify that identity, but these bones were the true power of his lineage. He muttered the old norse words, and threw the bones on the hotel room floor, the motion calculated and precise to the smallest twitch.

"Caster Takiyashahime has gone to secure the Sako shrine," he intoned with a steady, clear, and confident voice. "I implore the spirits of my ancestors, show me what tapestry the Norns weave."

The bones landed, bounced, and bounced on still, continuing on as if possessed. Finally, they were still, spread out across the room. This was then the hardest part. He had to read the runes, and from their positioning and orientations, discover what meaning could be found, if there was in fact meaning to be found at all.

His apprehension grew as he reasoned the message behind the bones, his fears becoming more and more real as he became more sure in their meaning. Finally, he had it. Probably. The conflict will begin at the holy site, and the great spirits will clash. He cursed and jumped to his feet, throwing on his dress coat, and only taking a minute to ensure his appearance was proper before rushing out the door.

This was bad. Caster class servants were not suited to one on one combat, he knew, and typically relied on entrenching themselves. That had been the plan, for her to set up a connection at the shrine and draw mana from the dead there. But this was too soon. If Caster was about to fight another servant now, or if she was already fighting -

He raced down the hall, dialing his servants as he ran. He had to go salvage what he could, or risk losing before he even truly began.

---

Not bad, Genghis thought as he admired the machine in front of him. Not bad at all. He could find no fault in the resourcefulness of the Huang.

He did not know where the Witch had found the black motorcycle on such short notice, and he didn't really care. It was a fine machine. Not as good as a steppe horse, of course; a proper mount was less a partner than a tool, whereas a mechanical contraption such as this was cold and heartless. But as he sat down and held the throttle, he knew that this could work. With a Riding skill as impressive as his, he could push it to its ultimate limit, and then some.

It also helped that it would keep him incognito. He had even foregone his sable coat for riding leathers of the modern day, which should also help keep his identity hidden. He also had to admit he liked the clothing. Practical with nothing superfluous, that's how he liked it. Also, he looked damn good in it. He grinned, put on his glasses, and fired off from the garage, accelerating down the road like a rocket.

Where to? Well, he would go to where the other servants were. There was the Church, but it was neutral and inviolate. Fighting there was strictly forbidden.

So of course, he thundered along the street in the direction of the Church. Time to kick things off.

---

Caster's lips were twisted into a fox-like smile as she observed the battle between the skeletons and their—now obvious Lancer—enemy from afar. With so little time to prepare, she couldn't produce larger numbers of creatures. Thus, the hope of winning with quantity over quality was a lost one.

Yet, she had a last card up her sleeve, as a more appropriate way of gauging Lancer's might.

Even though she only had enough time to conjure one more powerful youkai, it should be enough to at least compel him to use that oversized weapon of his properly.


Coming from behind the tree Lancer has been in until a moment ago, the massive dark-armored warrior swung his ōdachi with enough power to not only chop the tree down in half but also cleave the ground, leaving behind a great scar on the earth. Although it wafted a demonic aura and had clear inhuman strength, it didn't look like it was quite at the level of a Servant.

In particular, its movements were stiff, almost as if something were restraining a parcel of its power. A fact that intrigued even Caster.

@King Cosmos

---

"Well, I erm... tried to. But you were speaking about how you were gonna make the others jealous or something like that, so you must not have heard it," Kyrsi said after Saber complained about not knowing about their possible enemies' location. "Anyway, the way you speak about them, it doesn't even look like you dislike them. Despite, y'know, everything that's said to have happened between you," she added, commenting on the impression she got regarding Saber and her apparent opinion about the other Knights of the Round Table.

"Sure, let's show'em what we are made of—So, erm... should I call a taxi or something like this or...?"

@VitaVitaAR

"Tch, why are you asking me about those losers, anyway?"

Mordred faced her Master again, a frown on her face. Why did she need to go chatting about the other knights again?

"You've got the best of them right here, right?" the blonde girl added, jerking a thumb towards her chest with a grin as she did. Sure, they didn't know where their opponents were, but that didn't matter! She was going to find someone tonight, and they were going to regret letting themselves be found when they realized just how powerful of an opponent they were up against!

Needless to say, she was making a beeline for the Church.

Whoever was there when she got there was going to be their opponent.

@KoL

---

"Hyah?!"

The tiny girl let out a small yelp of surprise as she was swept into the air, carried under one arm. This was... it was completely unsuitable...! Not that there was much she could do to resist, but what was her Servant thinking?!

Being positioned on his shoulders was... well, it was quite a bit better. Now she could look down on the others, which was all too fitting, as she introduced them to the opponent that would crush their ambitions for the Holy Grail War.

"Personally, I consider the forest an excellent location to begin with. Not that I believe any opponents shall be lurking within it tonight, rather..."

Hitomi adjusted her position on her Berserker's shoulders.

"It will allow us to target opponents and emerge to take them by surprise!"

Not so much an ambush, but the enemy suddenly revealing themselves was sure to surprise anyone they would go up against.

@Raineh Daze

---

Orion would make a bodily motion akin to that of a shrug as he'd pick up both of the girls onto his large muscular frame and immediately start to descend the building, skipping several steps at a time, making for a rather bumpy ride as he made sure they were held on tight. Soon they would emerge at the bottom of the stairwell back at the street level as he would place them both down. It was reasonable that he didn't have to carry them too far, they could walk. Plus it wouldn't do him much good if he couldn't move in front of them at a moments notice.

"Though I could carry you both the entire way there, Master, I feel your friend would not be best pleased." Orion said sheepishly putting a large hand behind his head with a soft smile. "So I assume we will simply be getting the rest of the way there on foot."

---

Carmel, a woman of the faith and a follower of the flock of god had reasoned to herself that perhaps her entry into the grail war t o seek answers to her questions was one of folly. Nay perhaps grand foolishness on a scale that a heathen would do directly in front of the messiah. The reason she thought this was simple. She had assumed that the fates would align and give her an individual with enough power to leverage herself properly during the grail war.

IT had not. She had summoned someone whom at first seemed a bit of a disappointment. Royal status and decree did not mean much for the pious as they only followed one king, and Jangar certainly didn't qualify. HOWEVER she was not a foolish devout. It was simply a matter of using the hand she was dealt properly.

---

Speaking to her servant over the connection between them both, she would take in his view of his surroundings, as she had sent him off to scout the area of the war, relying on his survivability while she sat in the church building and waited for other masters to arrive. Hearing of discovery of the undead. She would frown for a moment. "Very well Jangar, retrieve one. Bring it somewhere outside of church grounds. I cannot conduct a proper investigation if the corpse is purified." She would say in reference to her own servants going ons.

Carmel would place her hands in front of her in a seemingly pious position. Though she was actually just thinking. Undead would mean there was likely a necromancer of some kind afoot. "I want you to tell me if any of those undead exhibit special properties Jangar" The Burial Agency Agent would say, a look of seriousness upon her face.

---

---

The Sako church, as it turned out, was ideally suited for this kind of contest. It was some distance from the city centre and very isolated, surrounded by sparse forests and barren hills. The architecture seemed strange - nothing like the Nestorian shrines that he had seen in his life - but from what he had seen of the city itself, it seemed that these japenese had a penchant for copying western architecture.

He had arrived in no time at all, of course, riding at the speed of the wind, only to find the place barren of servants. One does not expect to find elk simply by wandering, of course. One finds elk through patience. He hid himself and his mechanical steed in a patch of forest near the church clearing, and waited as he had in countless other hunts of both beast and man.

Dusk came and darkness rose before he finally sensed an approaching servant. His alert eyes caught the source: a car driving up the hill path towards the church grounds. Here we go, he thought, filled with joy. Finally, he could finish that which he could not in life, that which his successors had abandoned: the unification of all peoples under blue sky.

He turned on the motorcycle and accelerated at impossible speeds out of the forest, straight at the vehicle. As he flew in the air towards the road, his scimitar materialized in his hand. It was strong, stronger than any normal blade, but it was no noble phantasm: his objective was to feign weakness, after all, so it would suit him just fine. And besides: he hadn't gone up close and personal like this in a very, very long time. Whichever servant that was was about to be in a bit of a surprise.

”As you wish Master.”

Retrieving one of the skeletons for the woman who had summoned him should be a simple matter; they weren’t particularly tough, so divesting one of its limbs to render it immobile should be enough to let him carry one away. As for any special properties they might possess? Well, Jangar wasn’t too familiar with undead to begin with so he wasn’t sure what to look for; spirits he knew a thing or two about, but shambling corpses were somewhat new to him.

Something lumbered behind him and Jangar turned to face it, then immediately shifted his weight to lean to one side to avoid the slash that carved a furrow in the ground. He danced back from the abomination, light on his feet as he weaved between the lesser undead until all of his opponents were in front of him, dodging an errant swing from one of them as he did so.

This one appeared to be a little bit more than a simple reanimated body; there was power in those old bones.

Interesting.

“You might be a little too big to take home with me. Maybe I should cut you down to size?”

Jangar moved to the side, beginning to run in a quarter circle around the undead that would bring him away from the lesser skeletons and give him an open path to the larger one. Empty eye sockets tracked his every step, but when the Lancer decided to commit to an attack there was little it could do to keep up with his movements. Jangar spun, building momentum as he swung his oversized spear at the oversized shin; the weapon met the padded armour with a heavy thump and the undead was forced to drop to one knee as its leg was ripped out from under it.

But it didn’t break.

Instead of shattering as the skull had the bone remained intact and the creature soon rose to its feet again as the Lancer danced away a second time. It was tough then, but nothing Jangar couldn’t handle; he’d broken a king over his knee when he was barely a child, something like this wouldn’t stand in his way. He would just need to try this time.

@KoL@1Charak2