Einzbern Castle Courtyard
"Master, I'm back."
"Good work."
Under the curious gazes of the assembled, Scáthach, with her exceptional agility, swiftly returned carrying a sack of items as Roy had instructed, handing it to him.
Roy clapped his hands lightly, and a cascade of golden shimmering dust slipped from his fingertips into the sack. At his command, the gifts inside floated upward, as if lifted by invisible hands, gently drifting toward the seated guests—Masters and Servants alike—each receiving a token of his thoughtfulness.
"This is what you prepared to appease me?" Gilgamesh weighed the light package in his hand, intrigued.
"Your Majesty, I'm not sure if it'll quell your wrath, but it's my heartfelt gesture. Please accept it," Roy said, meeting Gilgamesh's crimson eyes calmly.
The gifts landed in everyone's hands.
"Of course, I wouldn't favor one over another. I've chosen something fitting for each of you. Feel free to open them and see if they suit," Roy added.
"Oh? Gifts tailored to us?" The Servants' interest piqued at his bold claim.
"Hmph, though a mongrel, you're unlike the rest—at least in taste," Gilgamesh remarked, tearing open his package and nodding approvingly. "This suits me. You pass. You deserve a reward."
His gift wasn't a lavish treasure or ornament but a set of varied clothing: a black-and-white striped casual outfit he often wore later, a pure white hoodie with subtle accents, and other garments from his past and future selves—Wise King, Child Gil, and more.
Roy had spotted these while shopping with Scáthach, buying them on a whim. She'd thought they were for him, not expecting they were for the Golden King.
This surprised her.
"You truly see… different worlds, distant futures, even glimpses of the past," Gilgamesh mused, his tone softening as he noticed a canvas beneath the clothes, etched with the silhouette of a certain green figure, stirring even his stoic heart.
"Just a fortunate guess. I lack Clairvoyance like you or the Mage King. I merely used some tricks to glimpse possibilities. Your past and future are yours to shape," Roy replied humbly, his gaze steady and sincere.
"Parallel world observation, huh…" Waver murmured. Roy had mentioned observing outcomes across parallel worlds, likely how he'd chosen these gifts.
If not Clairvoyance or future sight, this was the only explanation.
"Ho, Tactician, you live up to your name! Even your gifts hit the mark!" Iskandar exclaimed, delighted by his collection of videos on world wars, battles, and military progress.
Waver, holding a check worth a million pounds, nearly wept. Roy, we're my bros for life! Rider's expenses had drained him, leaving him unable to afford even a plane ticket. This was a lifeline.
"Hmph, a bunch of unrefined bumpkins," Kayneth scoffed, initially dismissing Roy's gifts as mundane. But when he saw Modern Puppet Magecraft Improvements and Theories by Aoko Aozaki, he swallowed his words, clutching it like a treasure.
Crowned Puppet Master's notes—unbeatable!
Unsure how Roy got it or his ties to the fugitive Aozaki, Kayneth, no Enforcer, cared little. This could be a magical family's foundation.
This War was a jackpot: two heirs, a magecraft legacy, and even Waver, whom he'd once scorned, showed potential worth nurturing.
Fionn received an Irish-style green lucky hat, leaving him puzzled.
As for Saber's gift…
Artoria's fingers trembled, clutching it, her face a mix of emotions. It was an envelope, signed by Merlin and the Knights of the Round Table, bearing their exclusive crest.
Stunned, she stared at Roy, her emerald eyes locked on his, standing to approach him, desperate to know how he'd obtained it.
Sensing trouble, Scáthach and Iskandar, noting her agitation, stepped in front of Roy.
"What's wrong, Saber? Is there an issue with your gift?" Iskandar asked, eyeing the envelope and Roy's innocent expression, curiosity burning.
All eyes, including Gilgamesh's, turned to them, wondering what Roy had given her. Given Saber's nature, even a love letter would've been rebuffed, not cause this reaction.
"My apologies for my rudeness… I don't know how you got this, but thank you, Queen of the Land of Shadows's Master," Artoria said, calming herself and nodding solemnly to Roy.
"No need for thanks, Lady Artoria. I'm Roy Crowley—just call me Roy," He replied, using her true name to affirm his sincerity.
Artoria…
Her expression shifted, now certain this youth had ties to her knights or Merlin. How else could he know such things?
Though craving answers, she knew now wasn't the time, nodding back. "Understood, Lord Roy."
"Since everyone's pleased with my gifts, shall I, as host, boldly open this Banquet of Kings?" Roy smiled, having successfully delivered his planned gifts.
Raising Gilgamesh's golden cup, he addressed the crowd. "Any objections?"
"None here, Tactician. You've proven yourself, uniting kings and heroes harmoniously. I, the Conqueror, recognize you first! You should open the banquet," Iskandar declared.
Fionn nodded, impressed by his lord's student. Beyond strength, Roy's intellect, diplomacy, and ability to balance personalities were astounding.
Fionn wondered if such a figure in his Fianna could've prevented past tragedies. But it was too late for regrets.
"I agree," Artoria said. Though Roy outwitted her as an enemy, she respected him as a foe. He was as enigmatic as Merlin, hard to fathom in this era.
"My Master, I've no objections," Scáthach smiled, proud of him.
"Hahaha! By right, a true king like me should open the banquet, but you… you've earned this honor," Gilgamesh said, his crimson eyes on Roy. "Savor your glory, kid. You're among the few mages who've caught my eye."
"Thank you all for your support. I'll accept the honor," Roy said, ignoring Tokiomi's jealous scowl, raising the golden cup and downing it.
"This first toast is to all you kings and heroes, gathered by fate in this Holy Grail War!"
He drank deeply, not using magecraft to neutralize it as with Iskandar's mixed wine, showing respect.
Iskandar clapped, shouting, "Bold!" Even Gilgamesh's smile widened, his approval growing, while he glanced at the sulking Tokiomi with deeper disdain.
Why such a gap between Masters? I'm the strongest, yet stuck with this fool, while that old hag gets this intriguing one. Gilgamesh's irritation grew.
Seeing Gilgamesh's unveiled contempt, Tokiomi's face darkened, but he held back. When Roy poured him a cup and invited him to sit, his mood eased.
"Thank you, Master Crowley…" Tokiomi's gratitude grew, seeing Roy's noble etiquette—a stark contrast to the barbaric ancients.
"Hmph," Gilgamesh snorted, ignoring Tokiomi and addressing Roy. "Kid, don't leave early. After the banquet, I have questions."
"Understood," Roy nodded.
With his opening, the banquet truly began.
His display of wisdom, courage, and integrity shone brightly in the Servants' eyes.
…
Golden cups clinked in the air, their liquid shimmering like divine ichor.
Under the envious gazes of Kayneth, Waver, and Tokiomi, the Servants savored the wine, exclaiming in admiration.
"Fine wine, King of Heroes! I've never tasted such in life or now. This isn't mortal wine—it's for gods!" Iskandar praised unabashedly.
"Hmph, my wine naturally surpasses what you commoners drink. Only divine wine befits my status," Gilgamesh retorted, accepting the praise while jabbing back.
"Haha, that was surprising. When Tactician revealed your identity, I realized you're Babylon's King of Heroes. I mistook you for Rama with Vimana," Iskandar said, chuckling. "But knowing you, such treasures make sense."
He swirled his cup, recovering from his earlier clownish role.
"Hmph, the wine's drunk, most are here. Berserker's likely not coming, so let's start the Banquet's first question," Iskandar said, taking charge despite Gilgamesh's wine, Roy's hosting, and Artoria's venue. Raising his cup, he asked, "Why do you seek the Holy Grail?"
No one objected. Fionn, not a king, stayed silent. Scáthach and Artoria were here to observe. Only Iskandar and Gilgamesh could drive the banquet's mood.
Gilgamesh, hearing the question, sneered. "Seek the Grail? That's the funniest joke. This War's premise is flawed. All treasures belong to me. I'm here to reclaim what's mine—you're the thieves. I've no reason to grant the Grail to any of you mongrels."
"Oh? Even scattered treasures can't be claimed by the capable? Are you some miser?" Iskandar pressed.
"Not miserly," Gilgamesh replied coolly. "My grace is for my subjects, not you."
"Conqueror, swear fealty, and I might graciously gift you the Grail."
His crimson eyes narrowed at Iskandar.
The question was rhetorical.
"King of Heroes, as a king, how could I kneel for a mere Grail?" Iskandar, aiming to conquer the world, would take it by his own strength, not submission.
"A pity," Gilgamesh said, shaking his head, unsurprised.
"Then I'll eliminate you and the other thieves coveting my treasure."
His speech ended.
Though his rogue-like claim drew exasperated looks, given his legend and name, no one pressed further.
Iskandar continued, "Then, King of Heroes, what's the essence of your kingship?"
"I am the essence. I am kingship," Gilgamesh declared.
"The king acknowledges, bears, and decides the world! Where I stand is law; my path is kingship!"
His arrogant words rang with undeniable conviction, shaking the crowd.
"Absolute self-centeredness? Truly remarkable, King of Heroes," Iskandar nodded, grasping something.
"And you, Queen of the Land of Shadows? Your kingship?" Iskandar turned to Scáthach.
She smiled lightly. "I'm different. I rule a land of death, not mortals. Mortal rules don't apply. My realm is ghosts—kingship is meaningless."
"If I must say, my way is a life of battle—born for war, thriving in death, until a worthy foe ends me, granting rest."
Iskandar nodded deeply. "I see. The Queen of the Land of Shadows walks a path of neither dominion nor conquest but an Asura's road, pursuing her will until her heart's desire… Remarkable. Such solitude and hardship move even me."
Both Gilgamesh and Iskandar understood her path—a true king ruling the land of the dead.
"And you, King of Knights, famed for justice and nobility? What do you seek?" Iskandar turned to Artoria, sitting alone, her aloof aura starkly noble compared to the others.
Justice, nobility…
She laughed bitterly, not at Iskandar but herself.
"Sorry to disappoint, Conqueror. Justice and nobility don't suit me," She said.
Her words cast a strange hush over the lively banquet.
Roy, clutching a petal, his eyes glinting with faint prismatic light, sighed inwardly.
As expected, this opening again? Troublesome… Merlin, should I help her? But it'll cost extra.
In Avalon's tower, Merlin's brow twitched, cursing Roy's greed. But with no choice, he gritted his teeth.
"Fine, one more unconditional favor. Help Artoria-chan."
Deal.
Roy's lips curled, his eyes' prismatic glow intensifying.
For a moment, Artoria glimpsed a familiar white-haired trickster in him.
Merlin…?
***
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