Looking at the church gate, which had been damaged by the airflow from the motorcycle's rapid departure, Amakusa Shirou's lips curled into a smile. The repair fees would just be charged to one of Aslan's black cards. Hmm... although he could pay for it himself, but... the landlord has no surplus grain. Compared to him buying all sorts of relic materials, which was a laborious, personnel-intensive, and even more expensive affair, Aslan's black card, which hadn't had much money used on it, was a better option than his own, which had been emptied long ago. After all, a global tour that only focused on some unique homestays, how could it compare to him directly buying a country's cultural relics, or directly cordoning off an area in a war zone for excavation and transport? How could that not be more expensive?
At this thought, Amakusa Shirou couldn't help but frown slightly. Speaking of which, he seemed to have a few cards with quite a lot of debt.
Comparisons are odious. But having summoned his own Assassin, Amakusa Shirou didn't feel that any of it was not worth it. What was even rarer was that he felt that he and his Assassin worked together with great tacit understanding. In a Holy Grail War, summoning a Heroic Spirit with whom one had a good enough rapport was also a key among keys. Otherwise, one might repeat the mistakes of Tokiomi in the Fourth Holy Grail War. Of course, if one were to talk about the tragic consequences caused by the discord between a Heroic Spirit and their Master, perhaps using Medea from the Fifth Holy Grail War as an example would be more appropriate. Who told that rich oil prince to be incompetent yet not humble, and to have such a high opinion of himself? Although Jason was arrogant in his daily life, he really had the skills to back it up, worthy of being a hero in human history, and also worthy of being the captain of many heroes. As a result, this oil prince was so miserable that he was directly tricked out of three Command Spells and then knelt.
To be honest, when Aslan had first come into contact with the world line of Medea's Fifth Holy Grail War, he was really startled. How should he put it? This oil prince had really taught the Aslan of that time a lesson, showing the Aslan who had not yet come to the Type-Moon world what the madness of a magus was. Using children to extract life force and such, was truly cruel enough. From that moment on, Aslan understood one thing: magi like Rin and the others were, in the end, not the entirety of magi. And among magi, there were more than enough madmen, and the kind of madmen who did not care about the consequences.
However, Amakusa Shirou's happy time did not last long.
"A horse! Give me a horse! For a horse, I am willing to exchange my entire kingdom!!"
The back door of the church was pushed open. Shakespeare, with a theatrical tone, recited the lines from his own book. This sudden, subtle line, while startling Amakusa and the Empress of Assyria, also made them sigh.
"Please stop saying such inexplicable things as always..."
Shakespeare bowed slightly. "Oh! Empress of Assyria, please do not say such heartbreaking words. To me, Shakespeare, my works are my life!"
The Empress still maintained an indifferent expression on her face. After all, she had been in contact with this guy for a long time and was already used to this writer's way of speaking. But this line came from Richard III, a story of losing a kingdom for a horseshoe nail. To say such lines at this time was not a good thing.
"Let's hear it. What happened?"
Shakespeare rubbed his chin, a curious look on his face. He seemed to be a little curious as to what kind of expressions the two before him would have after hearing the upcoming news. He gently cleared his throat, reined in his curious expression, and then spoke in an extremely plain and calm voice, "Actually, that guy Spartacus, well, he went to beat someone up."
As a result, at the end, Shakespeare couldn't help but laugh again. Amakusa blinked, while the Empress reacted. "Huh?"
"So I'm saying, Berserker went to the Black Faction's castle to beat someone up. Oh, oh!! It's as if he's a lover whose brain is boiling!"
The Empress gently supported her forehead with her finger. "An uncontrollable hero is truly a pain. Do you have any clue as to why Berserker went on a rampage?"
Amakusa, on the other hand, laughed softly twice. "No need to worry too much. I have already sent someone to follow. Of course, there's no guarantee we can bring Berserker back..."
Unlike Amakusa Shirou, who was satisfied with his summoning of the Empress, on Darnic's side of the Black Faction, Siegfried's Master, a chubby uncle, was not in a very good mood right now. How should he put it? He felt that his own Servant, Siegfried, was really a bit too upright.
As long as the result was good, there should be no problem in using some tricks in the process. They were magi. Many magi directly ignored life. He hadn't reached that level yet. At least he still considered himself a normal person. But compared to his own Servant, Siegfried, he was simply like a villain... No, it was that Siegfried was too much of a saint, too much of a hero. He had ignored the fact that although Siegfried was powerful, in his life, he had always lived for others. Such a person could, of course, be called a hero in ancient times, but in the modern era, it would make people feel that he was a bit too self-sacrificing, even to the point of being a "holy fool."
Of course, no matter what, this was a dragonslayer, a hero who had averted disaster. An existence like him, who had not made any great contributions to humanity, even if he felt a little unhappy in his heart, he had no right to baselessly accuse or slowly dislike the shadow of a hero. However, his own Siegfried, although he acted a bit upright, still followed orders.
Of course, because there was no homunculus awakening their self-awareness in this world, the Black Faction got along relatively harmoniously. Of course, it could only be considered harmonious. After all, there were also many in the Black Faction who had their own little schemes. For example, the Master who had summoned one of the Paladins of Charlemagne, Astolfo, a woman with glasses, had excessive thoughts about Astolfo.
The chubby uncle stood up. He had already learned that the Ruler was heading towards the center of the battlefield—Trifas. He was considering whether he should go and greet her in advance. At the very least, to get a familiar face, to see if it was possible to have the referee blow a black whistle for him. He immediately took Siegfried and left the castle.
At the same time, the rock golems hovering in the sky also discovered the lone Shishigou and Mordred, who were scattered in the town.
Presumably, very soon, the first battle of this Holy Grail War would erupt on multiple fronts simultaneously.