Picnic Grounds.
"So that means, Brother Sakatsuki, you're both the priest and the one secretly preventing us from getting the Class Cards?"
After Sakatsuki admitted it, Illya switched back to calling him "Brother." Holding a macaron in her hands, her face full of confusion, she asked, "But… why?"
"Isn't his background even more bizarre?" Kuro sighed helplessly. "A winner of the Holy Grail War from another world, who inexplicably received someone else's memories from a different dimension, and came here to protect his little sister... Oh, and come to think of it, Miyu's never been hurt at all."
"Now that you mention it… That's right!" Illya slapped her forehead. "Every time Miyu was in danger, someone always appeared—like when we ran into Bazett, it was Miss Draco who helped!"
"I was merely out for a stroll, looking for some fun. Don't overthink it." Draco said coolly, clearly unimpressed.
"Heh, I wasn't exactly trying to stop you from collecting Class Cards," Sakatsuki said with a chuckle. "Some things are better handled by me. Plus, messing around a little has its own charm. Actually, you should be thanking me. How do you think I was able to transform into Saber? Where do you think that Saber Class Card came from?"
In the battle against the Caster Class Card Servant, Sakatsuki performed a miraculous summoning of Saber and defeated all the magical girls.
In other words, before that, both the Caster and Saber Class Card Servants existed in the Mirror World—if Sakatsuki hadn't been there, the mindless Saber might've killed them all.
Compared to dying... a little teasing seems forgivable… right?
"Can't you just not have such a twisted sense of humor?!" Kuro snapped. "Back then, Illya was so desperate she had to release me! That kind of despair is what it takes to shake the seal!"
"Ahaha, my bad, my bad. I really went overboard with that one... I just wanted to force Kuro out and kind of overlooked Illya's feelings," Sakatsuki admitted readily, surrendering with a smile.
"You knew my mom, didn't you?" Illya pressed on.
"Yeah, before you even became a magical girl," Sakatsuki confessed without hesitation.
"She told you about Kuro too?"
"Half and half. Manifesting her was my idea."
"Then why did you take our Class Cards?"
"Back then, it was for research. But after certain things happened, I gave them away as gifts."
"Gave them away? To who?"
"Not someone from this world."
"Eh? Oh…" Illya found herself out of questions. Kuro shrugged and looked toward Miyu.
"Speaking of which... why has Miyu been silent this whole time?"
Everyone turned to look. The amber-eyed girl sat on the mat, cheeks slightly flushed, her gaze unfocused—completely lost in thought.
At that moment, Miyu was wrapped in a unique kind of happiness.
A little girl, stepping alone into a brand new world, never able to return. What kind of loneliness is that? What kind of helplessness? In her quietest moments, did she not long for home? Seeing other children picked up after school—did she not miss her beloved older brother?
A homesickness that neither Illya nor Kuro could soothe—the longing of someone from another world.
And now, someone gently told her: you are not alone.
The young man she met on her first day in this world—the unfamiliar but warm priest. The white-haired swordsman whose eyes sparkled only when looking at her. The ninja girl who came to protect her on Sakatsuki's behalf. Miss Draco…
All of it—everything—finally made sense today.
There was no such thing as loneliness or longing. Because someone had always, always been by her side.
Sakatsuki said he had merely inherited another young man's memories—he wasn't truly Shirou Emiya, Miyu Emiya's older brother.
But whether it was Miyu Edelfelt from the Fourth Holy Grail War, or the girl standing here now, they both already had their answer.
"You too… are my brother," the girl whispered.Then suddenly stood, and dove into Sakatsuki's arms.
All the loneliness, fear, and sorrow of her journey—swept away with a single embrace.
"Ohhh, she's hugging him, she's hugging him!" Her two friends whispered behind her excitedly. Draco, irritated, flicked her tail in annoyance. But with a slice of tiramisu in her hand, she could only snort in displeasure and look away.
Amidst laughter and warmth, the picnic finally drew to a close. After packing up, Sakatsuki set off with the now much closer girls toward the campsite.
But as they approached, they saw a knight in white armor marked with red standing imposingly at the gate, his king's sword stained crimson with hatred.
"You finally showed up, Sakatsuki—or rather, Knight of the Round Table, Sakatsuki," a muffled voice echoed from beneath the horned helmet.
***
At the camp's entrance, the last seat at the Round Table radiated killing intent.
In her rage, the rebellious knight had even briefly reverted from summer mode. She stared sharply at Sakatsuki.
The Master, Mash, even Artoria... all were absent. Ruling out total annihilation, it seemed they had hidden themselves and tacitly approved of what was to come.
So you're making me the scapegoat? Sakatsuki instantly understood Ritsuka's intent. Beside him, Illya and the others looked on, barely able to hide their curiosity.
Knight of the Round Table? As in the Round Table from Arthurian legend?
What does that have to do with Sakatsuki?
The magical girls all instinctively turned to look at him.
Sakatsuki raised an eyebrow. The breezy Hawaiian vacation clothes vanished—replaced by a white cloak, crimson armor, and two blades gripped tightly in his hands.
Picnic Grounds.
"I didn't expect my cover to be blown this thoroughly. Not only on Illya's side—looks like someone even dug up my involvement in the Fourth Holy Grail War."
"Cut the crap!" Driven by fury, Mordred swung her sword, a torrent of crimson lightning roaring forth like a rampaging lion. "Artoria must've gone senile to ever acknowledge you! A mere magus being called a Knight of the Round Table? I'll never accept that!"
There was no one who hated the witch Morgan more than Mordred—the Homunculus child of King Arthur. That hatred extended equally to Merlin… and all magi.
Especially to someone who had tarnished the glory of the Round Table by claiming the title under the banner of magus.
Crimson lightning howled. Sakatsuki only had enough time to teleport Miyu, Illya, and the others to safety before he was struck head-on by the blast. But Mordred didn't stop there—she flung her sword with a roar and charged:
"Look me in the eyes—and die by my blade, magus from the future! I am Mordred, the rebel knight of the Round Table! The one who brought ruin to King Arthur!"
Her shout echoed like a war cry that could break the enemy's spirit. Red lightning devoured the light, and hatred consumed the ground, ripping apart the turf into bare, scorched earth.
Yet from within the storm of sword energy, a golden gleam ignited—like fire catching air. A young man cleaved through the haze of lightning, twin blades in hand slicing perfect arcs through the chaos.
"So you're serious now, Mordred. Then—Knight of the Round Table, Sakatsuki... engages!"
No longer needing to hide his presence, Sakatsuki released his magical restraint. The aura of knighthood granted by the King of Knights burst forth—merged with the pressure of a dragon's heart devoured. A fantastical might crashed down upon Mordred like a thousand tons.
"Guh!" Mordred's eyes widened in disbelief. The shock quickly turned to rage. With a shout, she released her helmet and raised her sacred sword.
"Clarent Blood Arthur — Rebellion Against My Beautiful Father!"
Crimson lightning surged forward in a straight beam, annihilating everything in its path—striking the white-robed figure head-on!
Back of the Camp.
"Ouch!" Illya tumbled to the ground. With a yelp, Kuro followed suit—landing right in her arms.
This... felt awfully familiar.
Before Illya could even complain, Kuro and Draco dropped down like dumplings into her lap.
"Not again—QAQ!"
"Ah—Illya! Sorry, I didn't mean to!"
With practiced ease, the four girls got to their feet and scanned the area.
Ritsuka, Mash, Fou, Tamamo-no-Mae, Kiyohime... everyone was huddled behind a building, peeking at the camp entrance through Tamamo's magic mirror.
"Ohhh, they're fighting now!"
"Hm? Mordred stopped? Wait—she's not giving up… it's her Noble Phantasm! She's already unleashed it! Did she realize that's her only shot?!"
A chorus of "Ooooohhh!" broke out, only to be hushed after several warnings from Ritsuka. Just then, Mash noticed the girls had returned.
"Ah, you're back! Master? Master!"
"Quiet down, I'm trying to see if Sakatsuki's dead—ow!" Ritsuka winced, finally turning around with a stiff grin. "Illya… you guys made it back, huh."
"What happened?" Miyu asked anxiously. "Why is Mordred suddenly fighting onii-san?"
"Mmm~ for that, you should ask the real culprit," Tamamo-no-Mae flicked her tail and turned to glare at a certain ahoge'd King. "After all, both of them have deep history with her."
If Artoria hadn't refused to acknowledge Mordred as her child, would this earnest and stubborn girl have ever turned against her?
And if someone hadn't casually admitted that Sakatsuki was a knight she personally approved of, triggering Mordred's jealousy, would she have stormed off to challenge him?
"Ah yes, and that person is now sulking in a corner, wracked with guilt… though she didn't forget to bring a pack of Tamamo-made acorn cookies. Tch, damn gluttonous king!"
"Isn't she just snacking while watching the show?!" Kuro snapped. "And no one's going to stop them? Mordred even used her Noble Phantasm!"
"Relax, relax. Don't you know Sakatsuki's power level by now?" Ritsuka waved lazily. She wasn't about to waste her rare vacation playing referee. Chaldea's chaos was already enough.
"Besides…"
"Besides?"
Looking at the puzzled magical girls, Ritsuka grinned wickedly.
"I never supplied Mordred with mana."
Ah—this…
The magical girls stood frozen.
At that moment, they realized the true depths of Ritsuka's chaotic evil alignment… and silently prayed for Mordred.
Recklessly firing off a Noble Phantasm, with no supply line?
She was probably down to a countdown before collapse.
And she was up against Sakatsuki—whose mana supply was supported by the Holy Grail, effectively infinite—and who was now in a thoroughly bad mood.
"Just thinking about it gives me chills," Doggo muttered, rubbing his goosebumps. The other Servants all silently clasped their hands together.
Farewell, Mordred.
***
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