Roche Frain Yggdmillennia had never experienced such a terrible start.
As a grandmaster of golemancy and the head of the Frain family at the mere age of thirteen, his life had been smooth sailing since he could remember. Whether it was perfectly adapting to his family's magical foundation or his academic research in the field of golems, he was an acknowledged genius.
He was also the most talented individual among the gathered Yggdmillennia clan today.
And regarding this Holy Grail War, which was branded as a matter of the family's survival or destruction, Roche held immense expectations.
Of course, his expectations had nothing to do with family honor, survival, or destruction. Even the omnipotent Holy Grail was just a bonus to him.
What he truly wanted was to personally summon the most famous golem master, the one who dared to mimic the gods with mortal magecraft to create the "Original Human (Adam)": Avicebron.
As a genius child who valued golem research more than human life, taking Avicebron as his teacher and learning the ultimate knowledge of golemancy was Roche's true desire for this Holy Grail War.
In fact, for his personal goals, he didn't care which side won. "Family" or "relatives"? How could they compare to the importance of golem research?
In a sense, Roche and Avicebron were truly a perfect match.
But on that day, everything he had anticipated was ruined by that perverted woman named Reika.
Because she broke their agreement and summoned a Servant first. Furthermore, she didn't summon her designated Rider, Astolfo, but a Caster magus who had absolutely nothing to do with Astolfo: Merlin.
But how is this possible?
Using a catalyst meant for Rider, how could it summon a completely unrelated Caster? How could such a thing happen?!
Although he later learned from that "Merlin"—who, for some reason, was female—that she had actually descended accidentally by following the bond between the catalyst's original Heroic Spirit, "Bradamante," and herself.
And regardless of whether it was the Yggdmillennia leader, Darnic, or Reika and the other Masters, everyone expressed immense joy at summoning the Great Magus Merlin.
But Roche just couldn't accept it.
You guys are happy, but what about me?
My ideals, my pursuits, my teacher Avicebron—who is going to compensate me for these!
But no matter how much Roche expressed his dissatisfaction or threw a tantrum, despite being a family head, he was still just a thirteen-year-old child. Ultimately, he couldn't go against the family's will, nor could he reverse the summoning of a Heroic Spirit.
However, the situation wasn't completely without hope.
Although engrossed in golem research, Roche had once stumbled upon a record in the manuscript of a magus who had participated in multiple Holy Grail Wars.
Namely, if a Servant of the Caster class had sufficiently high attainments in magecraft during their life, then after being summoned as a Caster Heroic Spirit and meeting certain conditions, they could summon another Servant themselves.
And the restricted classes for this summon just happened to include the Caster class he desired: Avicebron.
Thus, this became Roche's final hope.
After searching through the remaining catalysts in the Yggdmillennia treasury, Roche planned to summon the Rider-class Bradamante to show goodwill to Merlin. After all, she had personally admitted to descending through her bond with Bradamante, so the relationship between the two must be very good, right?
The thirteen-year-old Roche, whose entire intellect and IQ were poured into golem research, thought so.
And when he saw the outlines of two men and two women in the light of the Heroic Spirit summoning, Roche became instantly excited, thinking he was going to succeed.
But when the light faded, and that pink-haired one dressed clearly as a female knight grinned and announced that "she" was Astolfo, Roche was completely dumbfounded.
Why?!
Why is it Astolfo?!
Why is one of the two "women" in this "two men, two women" group a crossdresser!!!
Falling from hope to disappointment, seeing hope again, only to have it completely snuffed out by a little trap, Roche finally couldn't help but explode entirely.
"Answer me! Didn't I use the feather of Bradamante's mount? Why are you the one who came out!"
Roche glared frantically at the pink-haired "young girl" standing before him, his still-childish face full of resentment.
"Well, it seems it's because the feather you used to summon, Master, belongs to this child."
Having lost some things, Astolfo didn't seem affected by his Master's violent emotions at all. His face still wore his signature cute and cheerful smile.
As he spoke, he waved his hand, summoning a Hippogriff—a phantom beast with the front half of an eagle and the back half of a horse.
"Here, it's this guy. Judging by your reaction, Master, you probably wanted to summon Lord Bradamante, right? That's truly a pity. The one who came out this time is me."
"You guy..."
Hearing Astolfo's words, the anger in Roche's heart flared even higher.
But he also knew the other party wasn't deliberately mocking him. It was because Astolfo, specialized as a Rider, possessed an inherent skill:
[Evaporation of Sanity (EX)]
Meaning he did and said things without thinking, acting on whatever came to mind. All his actions, values, and thoughts were guided by his own cheerful whims.
In short, he had no brains.
Damn it! Thinking that the summoned Servant is such a "genius," completely unrelated to the calm and wise Caster, makes me so incredibly angry!
Roche felt his sanity dropping rapidly. Even Astolfo's enthusiastic smile became somewhat detestable to him.
Just as he was about to speak again, a female voice suddenly interrupted him.
"Hey, I say, Roche, you should know when to stop. Compared to your originally designated Caster, who lacked combat power, you should be content becoming the Master of Rider."
Hearing this, everyone's gaze was drawn to the voice. And when they saw the speaker was Reika—who had originally planned to summon Astolfo but accidentally summoned Caster—everything became clear.
After all, everyone was well aware of this dark priestess's fetishes. The strange look she was giving Astolfo now, and her subconscious lip-licking, made it obvious what she was thinking.
"If you like him so much, then trade Caster with me," Roche shot back immediately. He was highly unstable and already harbored resentment toward Reika.
Unexpectedly, facing this remark—which, although spoken in anger, should have matched her desires—Reika surprisingly showed no joy.
Instead, after a moment of hesitation and struggle, she subconsciously cast her gaze toward the young girl standing beneath the throne, who had hair that was more grayish-white than pure white.
"Hehe."
The young girl who called herself Merlin clearly noticed this gaze as well and immediately smiled at her.
Yet for some reason, upon seeing this clearly harmless smile, Reika uncharacteristically shuddered, a flash of fear appearing in her eyes.
But beneath this fear hid a different kind of desire.
Subconsciously squeezing her legs together, Reika forced herself to remain calm and answered.
"H-How could we do that? As Masters of the same faction, trading Servants is far too disrespectful to them. So let us not speak of such things."
Hearing this, everyone in Yggdmillennia present wore strange expressions.
Respect?
It was hard to imagine hearing this word from the mouth of Reika, a dark magus who found joy in torturing boys.
So, is this change all because of Merlin?
Subconsciously connecting it to recent events, everyone couldn't help but speculate.
But clearly, this was not the time or place for such discussions.
"Enough. Since you are all warriors who have descended upon my territory for the same goal, then no matter who you are, no matter whom you once swore allegiance to, you are now under my command."
"I do not wish to see heroes fighting for my territory insulted the moment they descend. Do you understand? Rider's Master."
Seemingly noticing Roche still wanted to say something, the Lancer summoned by Darnic—the leader of Yggdmillennia—who sat high upon the throne, spoke coldly. He was the undisputed greatest hero of this land, a King who rivaled gods: "Vlad the Impaler," Vlad III.
"Did you hear that, Roche? Step down immediately!"
Seeing the King's expression clearly turn displeased, Darnic, who had been silent, hurriedly shouted to stop Roche, who was still standing there. The latter, under pressure, finally had no choice but to back down, though the resentment on his face never dissipated.
"Hmph."
Seeing this, Vlad III's expression finally softened a bit.
He then waved his large hand, ordering the summoned Servants to go through the normal process and briefly introduce their classes, True Names, and so on.
Finally, the Servants, who had been unable to get a word in due to the Masters' argument, began to introduce themselves one by one.
The first was the Black Rider, Astolfo, who acted the most lively and cheerful.
"Yahoo! Even though I was summoned by some baffling Holy Grail rules, and my Master doesn't seem to like me very much, seeing that everyone looks so strong and amazing, I'm still very happy to meet you all!"
The pink-haired boy knight, as if finally unleashing his true nature, grinned and introduced himself.
"Then I'll start the self-introductions, okay?!"
"As you can see, I am Astolfo, one of the Twelve Paladins of Emperor Charlemagne. I've manifested as a Rider this time. Please take care of me, everyone!"
After finishing, Astolfo impatiently looked at the tall young man beside him, who held a simple longbow and gave off a gentle, favorable impression.
"Hey, hey, what about you?"
"Is it my turn?"
Although the young man had a peaceful expression, he clearly couldn't quite handle Astolfo's overly familiar personality. He paused slightly, then spoke.
"Servant Archer. I have answered the call of the Holy Grail. My True Name is Chiron, the Centaur from the caves of Mount Pelion in Greece. I look forward to working with you all."
As he spoke, Chiron turned his gaze to the young girl sitting in a wheelchair, Fiore Forvell Yggdmillennia, who was also his Master.
"Hello, my Master."
Seemingly noticing the young girl's somewhat shy expression, this mentor of heroes gave her a gentle smile.
"Hello, Mr. Chiron."
Because she had been confined within the clan all year round, Fiore's tone carried obvious shyness when speaking to Chiron. But upon seeing the latter's smile, which felt like a spring breeze, that shyness gradually faded as she adapted.
"Oh, to think it is the Centaur Sage from Greek mythology who taught countless heroes. I didn't expect that you, a Divine Spirit, would also have a will to entrust to the Holy Grail and volunteer to become my limb."
Clearly, compared to Astolfo, who only existed in chivalric romances, Vlad III was very surprised and placed great importance on Chiron's appearance.
After all, this was Chiron, the teacher of the great hero Heracles, and a genuine god.
"You praise me too highly, my King."
As a Sage, Chiron was clearly full of wisdom in interpersonal relationships.
He first bowed to Vlad III, then explained with a light smile:
"Actually, the current me is the me from the myth who was accidentally injured by my disciple, having lost my divinity due to the venom of the Hydra. Furthermore, the wish I want to entrust to the Holy Grail is to reclaim my divinity. So there is no need to treat me as a god or anything like that. Just treat me as an Archer."
"Regardless, my army still welcomes your joining, Great Sage."
Sitting upon his throne, Vlad III nodded in response.
"Then, the next one..."
Following Vlad III's words, everyone turned their gazes to the next Servant.
It was a tall adult man, entirely covered in shining armor, with a handsome and steady face, carrying a greatsword on his back, and possessing long silver-gray hair.
At this moment, his gaze was neither on his Master nor evaluating his fellow Servants. Instead, since manifesting, he had turned his head, his gaze passing through the castle's floor-to-ceiling windows, staring off into the boundless distance.
"Saber, Saber, Saber?"
After Darnic called out three times in a row, the silver-gray swordsman finally seemed to react, turning his head to face everyone.
"I apologize, everyone. I was distracted by certain matters just now."
"No matter. Your True Name is...?"
"Wait, Saber! You can't say it!"
Before anyone could ask, the Master of the Black Saber, Gordes, impatiently interrupted, then explained under everyone's baffled gazes:
"No, Saber's name is one of the most important secrets in this Holy Grail War. Aside from me and Darnic, no one else can know!"
Looking at Gordes's tyrannical expression, Reika couldn't help but mock:
"Hey, hey. Didn't we agree earlier to share our Servants' True Names with each other? How come it doesn't count when it's your turn?"
"I don't care! Anyway, Saber's True Name cannot be told to you. Saber, come with me!"
Saying this, Gordes completely ignored how ugly Reika's expression became. After receiving Darnic's signal, he left with the swordsman, whose gaze had unknowingly drifted to the distance again.
"I apologize, my King. For the sake of protecting Saber's combat power, we cannot reveal his name for the time being."
Seeing Vlad III beside him reveal a thoughtful expression, Darnic lowered his head and explained softly.
"No matter. Since he is a hero whose True Name is that important, hiding it is fine."
Vlad III waved his hand, not particularly caring about this matter. Instead, he focused his attention on the final Servant—a petite woman whose face was hidden by a helmet, wearing a battle skirt and leg armor. Yet, incongruous with her petite figure, her waist and abdomen exposed a large expanse of fair skin and perfectly toned abs.
This near-perfect body gave off a healthy, athletic vibe, like a cheetah.
Clearly, this was a powerful and shapely female warrior.
"Then the last one, it seems, is Berserker, correct? If you are not under Mad Enhancement, tell me your True Name."
Vlad III tapped the armrest of his throne and spoke loudly.
"You have no need to know my True Name, Black King."
To everyone's surprise, this Berserker, summoned by Fiore's younger brother, Caules, didn't seem to possess the usual traits of Mad Enhancement or loss of reason associated with the Berserker class. On the contrary, she could understand language and speak, meaning she could converse normally.
It was just that from the current situation, it seemed she wasn't willing to communicate.
"Oh? You wish to hide it as well?"
Hearing Berserker's words, Vlad III's eyes instantly narrowed slightly.
But before the young woman could answer, Chiron, who had been staring at her from the side, seemed to realize something, a look of astonishment appearing in his eyes.
He instinctively spoke out:
"I see, I know you are..."
The next moment, before Chiron could finish, a massive iron hammer was violently hurled by Berserker, whistling fiercely as it smashed toward him like a meteor.
BANG!
Accompanied by a loud crash and countless flying debris, the castle floor, which had originally been reinforced by Yggdmillennia, was actually smashed through by Berserker's casual strike. Even the entire building trembled violently from the blow just now.
"So strong!!!"
Involuntarily, the Masters, who were somewhat unsteady on their feet due to the tremor, exclaimed upon seeing this scene.
"Phew..."
Looking at the large hole right at his feet, Chiron couldn't help but exhale.
Although, as an Archer, he still retained the skills fixed by Pankration, looking at this power, it clearly wasn't something his Strength parameter could block. If he hadn't moved fast and possessed Instinct (True), he might have been injured by his own ally.
Furthermore, as a mentor of heroes and someone who still possessed a trace of divinity, he would definitely be targeted by her special attack properties...
Thinking of this, Chiron felt a bit of lingering fear.
Should I say, as expected of her? This monstrous strength is truly terrifying.
"Centaur Sage. As a mentor of heroes and a former Greek god, you should originally have been a target of my hunt. But for certain reasons, I do not wish to touch you for now. So you had best not provoke me either, understood?"
Casually yanking the heavy iron hammer back, the Berserker in the form of a young woman spoke to Chiron with a cold tone.
"Understood."
Seeing that the young woman showed signs of Mad Enhancement again at the slightest disagreement, Chiron answered quickly.
It wasn't until her aura stabilized again that Chiron finally breathed a sigh of relief.
But then his expression became complex once more.
If it is truly her, then undoubtedly, that person whose life was so deeply entangled with her death has surely come to this Holy Grail War as well.
Thinking that former master and disciple were now destined to become opponents trying to kill each other, Chiron's expression couldn't help but grow complicated.
"..."
On the throne, Vlad III, wearing pitch-black clothes but possessing an incredibly pale complexion, watched this scene quietly. The light in his eyes shifted, making it impossible to read his thoughts.
Beside him, Darnic, seeing this scene, silently lowered his head to hide the churning emotions in his eyes.
And at this moment, the white-haired young girl who had been hiding in the shadow of the throne finally stepped forward.
With a smile on her lips, she held a white parasol even indoors at night. Her deep purple eyes were filled with unconcealable delight.
"It is truly wonderful to see that everyone is so interesting! Well then, isn't it about time I introduced myself as well?"
"Then, Caster Merlin. The Watcher of Avalon, the Great Magus of Britain, and the Guide of King Arthur, sends her greetings to all you heroes~"