Beneath Ryūdō Temple, under the modest rise of the mountain, lay a vast underground chamber. To imagine such an immense space hidden beneath so small a peak strained belief. Large enough to house an entire community, it could have served as refuge from both summer heat and the ravages of war. Now, however, this cavern—normally lightless and oppressive—was alive with flickering hues of red and violet, pulsing with magical energy.
This was the place where the Winter Saint had offered herself centuries ago. At its deepest point stood a colossal pillar connecting "heaven" and "earth" within the chamber. In places where its stone shell thinned, etched grooves and patterns glimmered faintly, evidence of the mysteries it contained.
It was that pillar which had once absorbed the Saint's body, compressing it into flesh and blood to nourish the Holy Grail. And now, centuries later, the Tōsaka family—one of the Three Founding Families—prepared to surrender their own to serve as the vessel for the Grail's descent. After all, the Grail could only manifest through the medium of a magus.
Irisviel, in the aftermath of the battle, had resigned herself to collapse into bed. Her body, frail by design, was already declining. Yet not long after returning to her room, she was startled by a sudden lightness—an almost impossible sensation, as though some great weight within her had evaporated.
It was easier than childbirth. Easier, even, than when she had brought Illya into the world. She had thought nothing could compare to the relief of that day, but this surpassed even that.
Her hand drifted to her abdomen. She could feel it—the Holy Grail within her. And yet, the vast reserves of magical energy that should have been sealed in the Grail were absent. They had not flowed into her body either. The only explanation was a chilling one: the Holy Grail had awakened.
Could that truly be possible? The Einzbern prided themselves on mastery of the Grail, yet even Irisviel knew their understanding was far from complete. Could anyone say with certainty that the Grail lacked will of its own—that it was nothing more than an inert chalice, waiting patiently to be filled? She doubted it.
She was a homunculus, created by the Einzbern, and raised as their eldest daughter. She knew much of their history, though not all. The family had carefully omitted one truth: during the Third Holy Grail War, they had summoned the vessel of all the world's evils.
They would never have allowed Irisviel—or Kiritsugu—to know. What was Kiritsugu's dream? World peace. If he discovered that the Grail's advent might unleash catastrophe, would he still carry the Lesser Grail, brimming with magical energy, back to Einzbern Castle? Of course not. The Einzbern had buried that truth to protect themselves.
By the family's plan, Irisviel should have been ready—garbed and armed—for when the Grail manifested within her. But in this distorted chain of events, she had been abducted, and the Grail awakened and descended prematurely.
Aslan, reflecting later, found it absurd to think the Einzbern's Heaven's Dress—their Heavenly Garments—played no role in the Grail's final descent. In the legends of Illyasviel, their perfected homunculus, she was described as complete only when clad in the Heaven's Dress. Surely Irisviel, too, must have been sent eastward with such a relic. In the original timeline, it had simply never been used.
The Heaven's Dress was no mere garment. Woven of gold yet gleaming white, set with seven crystalline rings, it was a magical weapon that commanded the Greater Grail's heart. With it, one could materialize a soul in moments. Each of its seven rings deformed into a hollow, lighting with ominous radiance as the souls of Servants were absorbed.
And because any human who touched it would be transmuted to gold, only elves, fae, or homunculi could wield it safely.
Realizing that something was gravely amiss, Irisviel immediately summoned Kiritsugu. If the Grail itself had gone awry, then every Master still standing should cease hostilities at once until the matter was resolved. To continue fighting blindly for a corrupted Grail would be meaningless—perhaps even suicidal.
The Grail was one of the few remaining true magics in the world. If it malfunctioned, the devastation could be incalculable.
As the Grail's living vessel and representative of the Einzbern, Irisviel invoked the authority of a Founder. She called for a conclave of the remaining participants, to gather at the church that evening.
Why not investigate the Grail alone? Because if the Grail had awakened its will, venturing to it without allies would be worse than futile. The survivors of the war needed to stand together, or else all would be lost.
The two most powerful Servants had already vanished from the stage. Now, it was the Masters themselves who determined the balance of power.
Irisviel could not say why the Grail had changed. Perhaps it was the strain of storing heroic spirits' energy overlong, or some other force entirely. Whatever the cause, she knew answers would not be found quickly. The Einzbern archives were far away in Germany. The Tōsaka estate and the Matō household had both been reduced to ashes, their records likely gone.
But the church here in Fuyuki held decades of documentation from past wars. There, perhaps, some clue might be unearthed.
Thus, despite their exhaustion, there would be no respite. Irisviel set the meeting for that very evening. She dispatched familiars as messengers, summoning all remaining contenders. If any refused, if they spurned the summons despite the risk, then they would have to be treated as enemies—excluded from whatever fragile accord might follow.
That, however, assumed that the withdrawal of Servants had not already fatally destabilized the Grail itself.
-End Chapter-
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