"Assassin has been completely eliminated."
Assassin's Master—Kirei Kotomine, Tokiomi Tohsaka's disciple—stated the fact flatly. Aside from the already-eliminated Ryūnosuke Uyrū, he was probably the one with the least sense of participation in this Holy Grail War. Outside of obeying his teacher's directives, the only person in this entire war he found genuinely interesting was Kiritsugu Emiya.
Now, perhaps, he could add a Ruler to that list.
As a human being, he lacked the most essential thing: desire. In his years serving the Holy Church, he had rotated through nearly every department, and each time—right when he was a single step from promotion—he transferred elsewhere.
He was curious. As a Heroic Spirit from the Christian framework, and one who conceptualized the very notion of unjust transactions, did the Ruler possess the ability to see straight through the desires lodged in others' hearts?
"My King, would you deign to lift a finger and clear away the vermin defiling your garden, so that the Holy Grail War may proceed as planned?" Tokiomi bowed deeply before Gilgamesh.
Gilgamesh swirled his wine and didn't even spare him a glance. He seemed utterly indifferent to this so-called Holy Grail War.
"This king has barely returned from a passably tolerable cheap banquet, and already you presume to order him about. How bold of you, Tokiomi."
"I would never dare."
Clearly, he had no authority over the great lord he himself had summoned. To the King of Heroes—who wanted nothing more than amusement—Tokiomi as a Master was less interesting than even Tokiomi's bewildered disciple.
"Very well. This king pardons your offense, this once."
Striking at the Greater Grail was, in effect, a direct provocation against the Three Founding Families. But even setting that aside, the magical energy released by that Noble Phantasm strike just now had dwarfed the energy from Lancer's earlier provocation.
"Mr. Lancelot, could you fire a Noble Phantasm directly at the Greater Grail?" Ritsuka asked.
"Fujimaru, that is a startling proposal. I have no idea what would happen, but for your safety it's best we don't. As a child, you were absolutely the type who threw firecrackers down the sewer, weren't you?" said Professor El-Melloi—Lord El-Melloi II.
"Then let's get out of here first."
"I'm afraid it's too late, Master of my Master." Lancelot raised his sword toward the sky.
With a roll of thunder, the first to arrive was—naturally—Iskandar, the Rider. Of all groups to show up, his was the one with no real opinions about the Greater Chalice.
"Oho. You've certainly got energy for someone fresh from a banquet. But you must already be exhausted after firing off a Noble Phantasm, warrior. Cutting you down now would only make me look like I was kicking a man when he's down." Iskandar stroked his chin.
"You underestimate my Master," Lancelot answered coldly. "I can unleash that strike countless times more."
Anyone else would have been one thing—but this man, specifically?
The King of Conquerors had successfully dispelled Yimi's earlier dislike of him, but Lancelot remembered exactly how the man had mocked his King at the banquet.
Setting aside how startling his King's wish itself had been—is my King someone you get to laugh at?
"Have at thee, King of Conquerors. Break all chains—"
"Wait, that Servant intends to fire off two Noble Phantasms back-to-back?!" Waver yelped.
The answer was yes.
Iskandar gripped his reins, his face suddenly grave. "Boy, hold on tight."
Lightning wrapped around his chariot. The Divine Bulls slammed straight toward Lancelot.
[Gordius Wheel: Wheel of Heaven's Authority]
Type: Anti-Army Noble Phantasm
Rank: A+
Range: 2–50
Maximum Targets: 100
The legendary sword and the chariot consecrated to Zeus collided. A burst of frenzied mana ripped skyward, and the hill—already shaved down by half—was hammered into a full crater.
"Mew?"
The brooding little kitten snapped back to reality.
Honestly, at her age you could solve most problems by handing her two pieces of candy.
"Yimi, what did you just see?" Ritsuka held her tight, backing away from the clashing Servants.
The Command Spells might be capable of protecting her, but they shouldn't be squandered like this.
"What the Grail does," the kitten answered unhappily.
"To have such energy right after the party broke up—truly worthy of the First Knight of the Round Table, Sir Lancelot." Saber, riding her motorcycle, had also arrived.
Behind her, Irisviel—arms around Saber's waist—had her eyes flattened into dots, her hair streaming straight back.
Just two days ago, on the mountain roads, Saber had lectured her about how dangerous her riding was. Today Saber herself had taken the bike and was driving faster than Irisviel ever had.
With the Riding skill, and Invisible Air canceling out wind resistance, Saber—though her motorcycle was not Noble-Phantasm-class like Lancelot's—had pushed it to a speed rivaling the Rider's chariot.
"But why does it have to be near the Greater Grail?" Irisviel asked, smoothing her hair and turning to Yimi with an expression that looked, somehow, betrayed. "Are you intending to attack the Greater Grail? Why would you do that?"
"Professor Kongming said so from the beginning, didn't he? The Grail is contaminated. Who are you making that face for?" Ritsuka instinctively pulled Yimi behind her.
Yimi stepped back out, frowned, and pointed at Irisviel. "The Grail is for the Materialization of the Soul. Not a wishing cup."
"In such a short time, you've already analyzed the Greater Grail? Or did your class container tell you?" Irisviel knelt down to look at her, faintly astonished.
A small shake of the head. "But Ruler is not being precise. The Grail can use the infinite mana of Materialization of the Soul to grant wishes—to a degree."
"By my Command Spell, Rider—defeat the enemy with everything you have!"
Waver's sudden Command Spell jolted Artoria's head up. Something felt off.
"Iri—"
How was her First Knight still going strong after three or four Noble Phantasms in a row?
Yimi reached out and patted Irisviel's stomach.
"What's the matter—" Irisviel froze mid-sentence as something began to surface from inside her body.
With only Caster eliminated, the Grail's presence on her had been faint. Now Assassin was gone too. Even though Yimi hadn't listened when Lord El-Melloi II briefed everyone earlier, she could now smell something on Irisviel.
After five Servants fell in the Holy Grail War, the Lesser Grail's true form would be revealed—and the vessel, Irisviel, would lose her life along with it. That was how it was supposed to go.
"Iri!"
But now Irisviel had been cleanly separated from it, unharmed—they had been one body, after all.
Irisviel was certain this wasn't the work of Avalon, King Arthur's sheath, lodged inside her.
Yimi's ears were still drooping. She looked listlessly at the object in her hands, then glanced at the System's display of her innate skill: [Materialization of the Soul].
She'd been so excited. So this was all the Grail did.
Seeing that this group had snatched the Grail away, Kiritsugu—who had finally found a good vantage point in the distance—grew urgent and forgot entirely about who had used a Command Spell to keep Saber from engaging: "Saber, fire a Noble Phantasm at Ruler. Do not hit Iri."