Fuyuki City, Shinto Station.
A series of clustered gas explosion incidents, urban murder cases, and mass poisoning comas had cast a shadow over this coastal city.
Under the night sky, following the semi-curfew announcement issued by the Fuyuki City Hall authorities, the once-bustling Fuyuki night market had grown noticeably desolate in recent days. Especially after midnight, the thinning crowds were visible to the naked eye.
Compared to the vastness of an entire city, individuals were indeed insignificant. The probability of encountering a crazed killer was practically zero—but what if...
After all, one's life was the most important thing.
Moreover, City Hall had not made it mandatory. It was merely a short-term crackdown carried out in the name of protecting the personal safety of Fuyuki's residents. Naturally, the vast majority of citizens felt no real resistance toward it.
They were not the type to confront the government over trivial matters or take to the streets in protest at the drop of a hat.
So, farewell for now to the proprietress of the izakaya—and to the newly arrived Miss Hanako (what are you thinking? She's just a hostess for conversation). I'll treat it as saving some money. Once this intensified public security campaign is over, I'll definitely visit again.
That was the general sentiment of most Fuyuki citizens.
Although plenty still ignored the advice and went about their usual routines—frequenting bars, red-light districts, and various adult establishments late into the night—the overworked Fuyuki patrol officers, assigned additional overtime shifts, had little to say.
It was only an announcement and a public advisory, not a compulsory administrative order.
Of course, the owners of businesses in the night market district were probably full of complaints. If the curfew advisory continued, each passing day would bring them considerable losses.
At the highway ramp connecting Fuyuki International Airport to Shinto Station, Fuyuki patrol officers were conducting routine inspections.
"Mr. Velvet, thank you for your cooperation. It's a special period—please understand. Have a pleasant journey."
The young officer in uniform politely returned the passport bearing the Windsor family crest to the long-haired man inside the car and raised his hand in salute.
"Mm. Thank you for your hard work." Seated in the back of the airport-designated taxi, the long-haired man accepted the passport and nodded in return.
"Let him through!" The officer stepped aside and signaled his colleague to lift the barrier.
Watching the well-dressed, composed, scholarly British gentleman disappear from sight, the young officer at the checkpoint shrugged.
"Hey, who was that? Never seen you act that humble before."
"Get lost! He's from London, England—Waver Velvet... That name's ridiculously long."
"Tch, no wonder. Pretty sharp eye you've got. Is he a noble?"
"No idea. But coming to Fuyuki at a time like this—talk about bad luck. Let's hope this doesn't turn into some kind of diplomatic incident."
"Sigh... still stuck working overtime. And there's still zero progress on catching that killer..."
...
Waver Velvet leaned back against the seat, his gaze fixed intently on the drastically transformed Shinto district. The car window was half open, and a breeze carried in the distant noise of the city.
When the gray soundproof walls receded from view and the skyline of towering buildings opened before him, a streak of red entered his vision. Almost instinctively, Waver leaned forward, his expression turning complicated as he looked toward the great bridge that split Fuyuki in two.
Even though he had succeeded his mentor Kayneth and become the new Lord El-Melloi II, the events that had unfolded that night—on the Mion River Bridge—
The war launched by the King of Conquerors against the King of Heroes.
Waver still could not forget it. If anything, as time passed, the inexplicable yearning to see him again had taken even deeper root within his heart.
"Rider... Your Majesty, we'll meet again."
Waver murmured, tightening his grip on the suitcase beside him.
After a moment of sentiment, he immediately shifted into professional mode, taking out the photographs provided by the Clock Tower of the two Mage's Association participants in this Holy Grail War.
"Bazett Fraga McRemitz."
Born into a magus lineage known as the "God's Holder." An Enforcer of the Mage's Association's Sealing Designation Bureau, tasked with arresting magi designated for sealing. A combat-oriented operative.
She carried a counter Noble Phantasm built upon the concept of striking after the opponent yet arriving first, guaranteeing a one-hit kill. Combined with her exceptional physical prowess and magecraft, she had earned the title "human weapon."
Looking at the photograph—a cool, capable beauty with short crimson hair and matching eyes, dressed in a deep red suit and magenta tie—information about Bazett rapidly surfaced in Waver's mind.
Without question, if he wished to investigate the abnormalities of this Holy Grail War, securing the cooperation of Bazett and her Servant—also representing the Mage's Association—was essential.
She would likely be easier to persuade.
Next, Waver lifted the second photograph—a handsome young man with bronze skin and golden hair.
"Atrum Galiasta."
A magus of mixed Western European and Arab descent. A young industrialist. Son of an oil magnate. He had even purchased a noble title from the Clock Tower with money...
Damn rich people.
Whenever he thought about how he had poured his heart and soul into supporting the El-Melloi faction, only to still shoulder a staggering nine-figure debt, Waver's face darkened, and he began muttering to himself.
When would he ever finish repaying it?
And this was pounds sterling—not Zimbabwe dollars!
"First, I'll go to the Church. Through the third-party supervisor, the Holy Church, I'll contact Bazett and Atrum and convey the Clock Tower's directive. As for specifics, we'll decide after summoning Servant—Ruler."
Calming himself, Waver reached this conclusion.
At this moment, Waver had no idea that the two Mage's Association participants he placed such high hopes on had already exited the stage—before the war had even begun. Their summoned Servants had also fallen into someone else's hands.
(PS: Bazett was the true Master who summoned Lancer, Cú Chulainn; Atrum was the true Master who summoned Caster, Medea.)
Having mapped out his course of action, Waver's spirits lifted.
Originally, upon learning at the Clock Tower that the Mage's Association's two participant slots had already been filled, he had felt rather dejected. But heaven did not disappoint the diligent. Soon after, the Clock Tower suddenly appointed him to investigate the Fifth Holy Grail War in Fuyuki.
They had even specially provided him with a holy relic for summoning Ruler.
Truly—though he had maintained his usual calm and understated demeanor before the Department Head—deep down, Waver was genuinely happy.
The Holy Grail War would claim lives, and he would not be fortunate enough to survive as he had last time. Waver had long since understood that.
Was he afraid?
Afraid of death?
Yes—but he had no regrets.
Before leaving the Clock Tower, Waver had already arranged everything behind him. Citing the uncertain dangers of the Holy Grail War, he entrusted his disciple Gray—who had insisted on following him—to his foster sister Reines for care. He even temporarily set aside the El-Melloi Classroom into which he had poured his heart and soul, leaving it in the hands of his close friend Melvin Weins.
The answer was already clear. Waver intended to use the Ruler class as an adjudicator, with Iskandar's cloak as the holy relic catalyst, to once more summon Iskandar as his Servant.
As for the holy relic the Clock Tower had given him, Waver had no intention of using it. No matter how powerful the Servant it could summon—even if it were a god—he would still choose Iskandar.
I'll stake everything on this! Your Majesty, I will prove—
Hm?!
The taxi Waver was riding had only just descended from the highway ramp into the city proper when he suddenly felt as though he had entered a bounded field.
In terms of magecraft, Waver might be nothing more than a third-rate magus—but he was still a magus. If he could not sense such blatant, undisguised magical fluctuations, he might as well stop calling himself a Lord.
Suddenly, as though noticing a line of sight upon him, Waver lifted his head. His expression sharpened as he looked toward the intersection shrouded in night.
Perhaps because there were no pedestrians at all, even the traffic lights seemed dimmer than usual.
The target is undoubtedly me!
Realizing this, Waver rose from the back seat of the taxi and signaled discreetly to the driver.
"Stop here, please. You may head back."
"Very well, Mr. Velvet. Have a pleasant journey."
Under the subtle hypnotic suggestion Waver layered into his words, the driver showed no objection. After politely opening the door for him and confirming that no luggage had been left behind, the driver quickly departed.
The moment Waver stepped out of the car, that hazy sensation vanished.
But he knew it was no illusion. The other party was likely toying with him.
Waver's eyes turned sharp as he scanned his surroundings—yet found nothing.
"Unidentified Servant. I am the Master of the Ruler dispatched by the Mage's Association for this Holy Grail War—Lord El-Melloi II. I am responsible for adjudication and supervising violations. I will not compete for the Grail."
Holding his suitcase, Waver's expression remained steady as he invoked authority first. "If possible, I would like to speak with your Master."
"A Lord? Oh my~ Does that mean you're some big shot?"
Following the voice, Waver finally noticed that this district had been deliberately cleared. In the empty street, amid the gathering of faint blue spiritual particles, a slender figure stood balanced on one foot atop a traffic light.
"A Servant from Shenzhou..."
Compared to battle armor, her attire carried more of an immortal elegance. The entire garment used a tie-dye design—blue and white blending like clouds drifting across the sky.
Whether the cut of her clothing, the delicate jade ornaments inlaid upon it, or the red tassels swaying in the wind, everything radiated a strong Shenzhou aesthetic. One glance was enough to determine her origin.
"Pretty sharp-eyed, brother."
Opening a pair of crimson eyes, clad in the Jade Knight battlesuit, Li Sushang crossed her arms, tilted her head, and rested her chin thoughtfully as she spoke with interest. "That title of 'Lord' of yours—hehe... It sounds far grander than the likes of Tohsaka, Matou, or the Holy Church."
"Pardo, I didn't believe in your luck before—but now I do."
"Kiana and Raiden Mei went to the Matou residence. The two old ancestors headed for the Holy Church. Durandal and Rita went to Homurahara Academy. All the places with decent fights got snapped up by them. And I'm stuck with this boring patrol duty with no oil to squeeze."
As she spoke, Li Sushang excitedly rubbed at the patch of empty space beside her where brown spiritual particles churned. "But who would've thought, Pardo? Even though I got sent to patrol the city, I actually ran into a big fish."
"Two Servants..." Waver frowned deeply. As brown spiritual particles gathered, a pair of fluffy brown cat ears appeared first.
"Meow! Of course! You think just anyone's this lucky? Without me, you'd still be patrolling all night."
Pardofelis.
Luck: A++.
"Hehe, thanks. Now then—Pardo, go!" Li Sushang pointed dramatically at Waver beneath the traffic light.
"Meow! Why should I listen to you?!"
"Because you're my 'mount.' Now get moving, kitty-head."
"Hmph... fine."
Though they bickered nonstop, Pardofelis' hands did not idle. The closed ring blade shot out at once. "Go, Canned Food!"
"Wah—!"
With an utterly unrefined maneuver unbecoming of a Lord from the Clock Tower, Waver performed a sideways roll to dodge the descending, chubby cat form crashing down from above.
"Don't dodge—just let me hit you once!"
"Are you an idiot? Why would I let you hit me?!"
Clearly preparing to flee, Waver shouted as he ran. Perhaps returning to Fuyuki stirred too many memories—he could not even maintain his usual deep, magnetic voice. He was yelling in the original tone he had not used in years of lecturing.
Blue magical circuits flared along his legs as he evaded the cat's attacks through desperate, borderline clumsy maneuvers.
Yes—rookies pecking at each other.
That was Li Sushang's evaluation. If this was the level of a so-called Lord, then the title was embarrassingly watered down. Could he be some prodigal heir squandering a family inheritance?
Pardofelis was weak—truly weak—and Li Sushang understood that. She was just there to make up the numbers, a mascot. There had originally been only seven proper slots for this incursion into the Type-Moon world.
Three pairs—Kiana and Raiden Mei, the two old ancestors, Durandal and Rita—and finally a lone single like herself.
But since Pardofelis had adamantly declared she wanted to participate, Selene could hardly ignore it. A legend, was it? Fine. Let my imperial court scholars fabricate an epic heroic tale.
And so Pardofelis had been written into legend as Li Sushang's significant mount—becoming a summonable Noble Phantasm.
As for Bronya and the Olenyeva sisters, they had not participated. That was not to say they feared battle. If Kiana required it, they would enter the fray at any time.
It was simply that Bronya had chosen a different path from Kiana.
Rather than charging at the front lines to earn glory in battle, Bronya wished to become a technical officer like Mobius. It was a divergence in ideals and development direction.
"Forget it, Pardo. I'll do it myself. Ruoshui Sword—"
A blade like a swirling vortex of water condensed in Li Sushang's hand. Just as she was about to move, she paused.
She turned toward Mount Enzou, where Ryuudou Temple stood.
"Ha... the ritual has begun. It seems Her Majesty can't wait to descend."
At the same time, just as Waver had finally taken advantage of the beast-eared Servant's momentary pause to catch his breath, the crimson Command Spell on the back of his hand suddenly ignited.
"What now?!"
Boom—!
In an instant, Waver's suitcase exploded. As magical energy gathered without wind, it transformed into roaring flames that blocked Pardofelis' cat assault.
Whoosh—!
That was the sound of a banner unfurling.
Within the summoning circle that burned like fire, the first thing reflected in Waver's eyes was a pure white iris flag.