The golden meteor that crashed down upon the highway did not go unnoticed.
In a war that was supposed to be fought in the shadows, a pillar of pure, radiant energy piercing the night sky was the equivalent of setting off a flare gun in a dark room.
Whether it was the young holy maiden hurrying toward the battlefield, the mages watching from the dark fortress of the Black Faction, the overseer in his quiet church, or the ordinary citizens who happened to be awake, everyone in the region saw the golden star fall to earth.
"Do these people have absolutely no concept of secrecy?"
Kairi Sisigou stared at the fading glow on the horizon, the corner of his mouth twitching in annoyance. The Holy Grail War was supposed to be a hidden ritual. This was getting ridiculous.
"Mmph... well, I mean..."
A loud chewing sound accompanied the response.
"Something that flashy was never going to stay hidden anyway. Chomp, chomp. Besides, you mages have all those memory-wiping spells and hypnosis tricks for the normal folks, right?"
Kairi sighed, dragging his hand down his tired face. He turned to look at his Servant.
Mordred was walking beside him, her arms wrapped around a massive paper bag filled with various street foods they had bought in a nearby town. Kairi had paid for it all. To help her blend in with the modern era, he had also bought her a casual outfit, a red leather jacket, a white tube top, and denim shorts.
"You've been eating non-stop for miles. Aren't you full?" Kairi asked, genuinely bewildered by her bottomless appetite.
"Don't be stupid. Hunger is the enemy of a knight," Mordred replied, tossing another piece of fried meat into her mouth. "Sure, Servants don't need to eat, but food is one of the best parts of being alive. It's a luxury!"
Kairi had a dozen sarcastic remarks lined up, but he swallowed them. He remembered the brutal, humiliating defeat she had suffered just the night before. Let her eat, he decided. If it helps her recover her mood, it's a cheap price to pay.
"Fine, fine. Just don't get a stomachache," he muttered, shaking his head.
The Plains of Trifas
"What in the world... is that?!"
A stout, blonde-haired man with a neat mustache stared at the night sky, his jaw dropping in shock. The golden light reflecting in his eyes was slowly fading, but the sheer scale of the magic left him breathless.
His name was Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia.
He was a proud member of the Black Faction, and more importantly, the Master of Saber of Black.
Yet, instead of sitting safely behind the fortified walls of the Yggdmillennia fortress, he was out here, tramping through the open wilderness in the middle of the night.
It was a dangerous, foolish move. But Gordes had a critical mission. He was here to intercept Ruler, the fifteenth Servant, and bring her back to their stronghold before the Red Faction could get their hands on her. He intended to secure her allegiance by any means necessary.
"Master. Something is approaching at high speed. Get behind me."
A deep, calm voice echoed directly in Gordes' mind, snapping him out of his awe.
A swirl of dense mana materialized beside the portly mage. In an instant, a tall, powerfully built man with messy silver-white hair and striking, dragon-like features stood between Gordes and the open plains. He wore imposing dark armor, and in his hands, he held a massive, jewel-encrusted greatsword.
This was Siegfried, the legendary Dragon Slayer. Saber of Black.
Siegfried's eyes were locked onto the darkness ahead, his stance wide and grounded, ready to intercept a massive impact.
"Wha…?!"
Gordes opened his mouth to demand why his Servant had materialized without permission, but the words died in his throat.
A dark blur tore across the grass, moving with a speed that made Gordes' eyes water. It didn't look like a person; it looked like a shadow cast by a speeding bullet.
Before Gordes could even flinch, the shadow crashed into Siegfried.
CLANG!!!
The sound of metal striking metal was deafening. Siegfried's greatsword caught the incoming strike, but the sheer kinetic shockwave generated by the clash exploded outward like a bomb.
The gale-force wind picked Gordes up like a bowling pin. The heavy mage was thrown backward through the air, flailing wildly.
Luckily, he landed in a patch of tall, soft grass, which saved his bones from breaking. But the impact still knocked the wind out of him, leaving him gasping and bruised in the dirt.
"S-Saber! What is going on?!" Gordes yelled, struggling to push himself up.
A thick cloud of dust had been kicked up by the shockwave, completely blocking his view of the fight. He couldn't see his Servant. He could only hear the terrifying, rapid-fire clash, clash, clashof heavy blades striking each other at speeds no human could achieve.
Siegfried was fighting for his life. The enemy was strong enough to push back the Dragon Slayer.
Panic gripped Gordes' heart. He needed to stand up. He needed to use his Command Spells to support his Servant.
But as he placed his hand on the ground to push himself up, a freezing sensation pressed against the side of his neck.
His body went entirely rigid.
"Warning: Do not move."
The voice came from directly behind him. It was a girl's voice, but it lacked any trace of human emotion. It was as cold and flat as a winter breeze.
Gordes broke out in a cold sweat. He had been taken hostage.
His mind raced. Saber can't save me. He's twenty meters away and locked in combat.
He was entirely on his own. He needed to buy time. He was a noble magus of the Yggdmillennia clan; surely he could negotiate his way out of this, or at least intimidate the attacker with his status. He just needed to talk.
"You... you dare… Eek!"
"Quiet."
Gordes gasped. The sharp edge of the blade pressed a millimeter deeper, breaking the skin. A warm trickle of blood rolled down his neck.
The single, emotionless word shattered his pride instantly. There was no hesitation in that voice. No fear of consequences, no interest in negotiation. It was the voice of a machine that would sever his head from his shoulders the moment he twitched.
True, primal terror seized the portly mage.
Trapped in the dark grass, with a blade at his throat and the sound of his Servant fighting a losing battle nearby, Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia closed his eyes and prayed for a miracle.
….
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