The Spirit of the Demon Sword: "I just saw it too—the Eternal Priestess… Is this because the gods favor our female priests, letting them advance into a new profession?"
Ninja Scientist: "You're thinking too much. Wake up already…"
Tanjiro: "The Eternal Priestess isn't something our chief priest can transfer into. It's an existence only available to the most devout believers."
Ji Shi Witch: "Let me explain. I just received an oracle about it."
Ji Shi Witch: "The Eternal Priestess is the highest honor granted to a woman within the Eternal Religion. Only those pure in body and mind, with unwavering faith, can ascend to it. They gain not only tremendous strength but also the ability to wield divine power.
Simply put—it's another branch of priesthood, one that spreads the faith alongside the chief priest."
Second Li: "Understood. Guess we'll just have to try it."
The Fox Who Only Loves Money: "By the way, your sister Kikyo sacrificed herself. Now everything rests on you."
Ji Shi Witch: "Yes… My sister originally said she wanted to meet your sister, Tu Shan Honghong, but I don't think that will happen anytime soon."
The Fox Who Only Loves Money: "No, they'll meet soon. Because we're preparing to seize the last bastion of faith left in our world."
Purdue of All Beings: "I can't even get a word in while you're all chatting like this."
Chu Dashan: "+1."
Blond Boy Sam: "I just hope the next group members come from another technological world. Otherwise, it's always awkward when they don't understand anything."
Vampire Queen: "Speaking of awkward… How far along is Rin Tohsaka now? @遠坂大"
For Peace: "Selena, you're wicked."
Rin Tohsaka: "It's fine. Others keep fighting endlessly, but that one… that one finally moved. Honestly, I envy Xiao Feng. She's already a three-star envoy now. I could cry…"
Ji Shi Witch: "Keep at it!"
The Type-Moon World
Fuyuki City—ground zero of the Holy Grail War.
Since Gilgamesh and several other Heroic Spirits had been captured, the situation had spiraled further into chaos.
If not for Wanwan, who knew no fear, the number of Heroic Spirits still alive would have dwindled too quickly, making the sacrifices insufficient.
It was precisely this uncertainty that kept her entertained. This world fascinated her—so many ways to kill, so many games to play.
The only pity was that the gods forbade wanton slaughter. Otherwise, she would have unleashed her full power long ago.
In the Emiya household, Shirou Emiya's Servant was none other than Nero Claudius, the flamboyant Roman Emperor.
But even she found herself shackled.
"Master," Nero grumbled, pacing within the house like a caged lion, "why are you so timid? We've been hiding here for three whole days."
Shirou winced. "Nero, you don't understand. Out there is a devil in female form. Terrifying! She could flatten you with a single strike."
"Hmph! How dare you speak so lightly of me."
Nero puffed her chest proudly, her pale green eyes flashing with imperial pride. She was no mere Servant. She was Emperor of Rome, endowed with the Imperial Privilege skill—the ability to manifest nearly any ability at will.
And yet… here she was, bound by her Master's command seals, unable to leave. The humiliation nearly drove her mad.
Their argument was cut short.
Boom!
A pillar of fire surged skyward. A towering waterspout ripped through the streets of Fuyuki.
And with it came a light—dazzling, holy, oppressive.
Nero vaulted to the roof, eyes narrowing at the radiant brilliance above.
"That glow… could it be him?"
The Sword of the Sun.
The Knight of the Round Table—Gawain.
Elsewhere, at the Tohsaka estate, Artoria Pendragon looked to the same halo and sighed quietly.
"Gawain… this is your light."
By her side, young Illyasviel and Sakura Tohsaka stirred awake, sensing the presence of the Round Table knight.
The famed Sun Knight was no rumor. He was real—and overwhelmingly powerful.
Northern Fuyuki
Floodwaters consumed the northern district. Amid the chaos, Semiramis, the Black Queen, commanded her Hanging Gardens against both Gawain and Gilles de Rais.
Gawain's disgust was palpable. Of all the allies he could have been forced to cooperate with, it had to be Gilles—the madman who butchered innocents for twisted pleasure.
But the command seals bound him. He had no choice.
"Disgusting," he muttered, watching Gilles summon another monstrous sea creature from the depths.
Semiramis herself sneered at the abomination slithering through the waves.
How could something so grotesque exist?
"Stand back, witch," Gawain declared. "By the blessing of the sun, my strength triples in daylight."
He swung the massive Sword of the Sun, cleaving down toward her Hanging Gardens.
Boom!
The strike lit the skies. The earth trembled.
But when the smoke cleared, the Gardens still stood.
"What?!" Gawain's eyes widened. "It… endured even that?"
Semiramis laughed softly. "Oh, you poor knight. Did you think I had no allies of my own? Mine are stronger than yours."
Blonde hair fluttered. Crimson eyes glowed like blood.
She stepped forward, clad in a simple white wool blouse and lavender dress, her cold elegance unmatched.
Arcueid Brunestud.
The True Ancestor.
A Berserker-class Servant, stripped of reason, driven only by primal instinct.
Her bloodline alone was enough to crush Gawain and Gilles beneath her aura.
Gawain instinctively raised his blade—only for her hand to seize his throat in an instant.
"This is… no ordinary Servant," he gasped. "Berserker…"
No strategy, no hesitation—only pure, devastating aggression.
Meanwhile, Gilles ignored him entirely, directing his sea monster against the Gardens.
"Traitorous dog!" Gawain cursed. "We were meant to fight together!"
The battlefield fell silent.
A single presence appeared.
A woman in a flowing black dress hovered in the void, her expression serene, her smile faintly amused.
Wanwan.
"Oh my, my little cuties have grown restless. Only three days, and already you're tearing the city apart."
Her tone was playful, but her eyes gleamed with predatory hunger.
Though she loved her leisure, Wanwan never acted halfheartedly. If she moved, it meant the holiday was over.
Her gaze fell upon the massive sea beast.
"Tell me, great one of the deep," she cooed, "would you like to be my pet? Your abilities are… amusing."
The sound of her voice slithered into Gilles' mind. The madman shuddered, eyes wide with terror.
What is this woman? Why does she see straight through me?
"No one will stop me from claiming the Grail!" he raved. "My dear Jeanne… I will resurrect you!"
Madness blazed in his eyes as he hurled his tentacles toward Wanwan.
She sighed.
"Disobedient kittens… I usually only kill them."
Her delicate hand rose.
She swatted lightly at the air.
BOOM!
The sky erupted. Blood rained like crimson flowers.
The sheer spectacle left every onlooker stunned—even the corrupted Grail itself faltered in absorbing curses.
What had they just witnessed?
No Noble Phantasm. No spell. No trace of magecraft.
Just a single, casual palm.
Gilles hung frozen midair, paralyzed with terror. He clutched his grimoire desperately.
Wanwan wrinkled her nose. "Made from human skin… Disgusting. I may be darkness, but I'm not a degenerate. Die."
Her fingers clenched.
Gilles swelled grotesquely, then burst apart. His body unraveled into a withered black rose that scattered across the sky.
Semiramis, who had faced countless terrors, stood frozen. Wanwan's gaze alone drained her mana, stripping her of all will to resist.
The black queen collapsed to her knees.
"You belong to me now," Wanwan said sweetly. "As do your masters. Kneel before me, and you may yet live."
The curses etched onto the Masters' hands flickered, then dissolved—not broken, but overpowered by a force greater still.
Even Arcueid and Gawain, bound in black chains, were hurled toward the Tohsaka estate, helpless as children.
Wanwan's massacre continued.
For her, it was not battle.
It was preparation.
For sacrifice.
Even the malignant "Evil of This World" lurking within the Greater Grail dared not stir beneath her shadow.
Compared to Wanwan, it was nothing.
For if the Grail's curse was evil…
Then Wanwan was evil's ancestor.
The Dark Goddess.
The Source.
By dusk, the outcome was decided. Every Servant—save Nero—had fallen.
The Holy Grail War, grand as it was, reached its curtain call.
As the sun bled into the horizon, Wanwan arrived at Shirou Emiya's door.
Nero burst out to face her, the meteoric blade in hand, its tip leveled at Wanwan's throat.
"I know I am not your equal," Nero said boldly. "But let us fight fair. If I fall, then do as you wish with me—but spare my Master!"
Wanwan tilted her head. Despite all she had done, Nero's clear, unyielding eyes did not waver.
Her lips curved.
"A noble hero indeed. You saw me butcher others and yet keep your dignity. I like you. Tell me your name."
"Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus," she declared proudly. "Emperor of Rome! Even if you cut my throat, I shall die after witnessing the sun set three times."
There was no fear. No sorrow.
To her, everything she wanted had already been achieved before death. Only one tiny wish remained unfulfilled.
But if this was the end, then so be it.
"Very well," Wanwan said softly. "I'll honor your dignity. You may strike."
And with a wave of her hand, countless roses bloomed, forming a grand Roman theater.
Within its crimson stage, the two prepared to clash.
The finale had begun.