"Work's done, work's done."
After rinsing his hands clean by the riverbank, Auram pulled out the notebook he always carried and drew a big cross over Ryuunosuke Uryuu's name.
Since he had so confidently told Ayaka, "Leave winning the Holy Grail to me. You just wait obediently at home for me to return," of course, Auram had his own plan for this Holy Grail War.
Winning the Holy Grail—hard if you say hard, easy if you say easy.
Simply put, to win the Grail, you just have to eliminate the remaining six pairs one after another. At most, six battles to achieve final victory.
In any case, in practice, things would never be so simple. For example, if one faction became too strong, others might ally against them. Temporary alliances were hardly unusual.
Sure, his good brother Ningirsu had once, in a fit of rage, soloed six Knightmares, but for safety's sake, Auram didn't want to fall into such a one-against-many situation.
If this Holy Grail War unfolded the way he remembered, then at least the Emperor's group and Artoria's group were potential allies. No need to rush into hostility with them.
Albeit some groups were simply too dangerous—best eliminated as soon as possible.
Caster's group was exactly that kind of threat.
Even without the Holy Grail War, as Auram the Star Hero, he couldn't tolerate a murderer like Ryuunosuke running wild right under his nose.
As for why he disguised himself as a taxi driver to get close to Ryuunosuke, the reason was simple.
The Holy Grail War was supposed to be fought in secrecy—though many seemed to ignore that rule. Still, Auram was a Hero aligned with Order. When it came to rules, he was generally respectful.
If he could deal with an enemy quietly, there was no need to make a spectacle of it.
After all, driving that taxi, he'd been listening to Fuyuki's news the whole time. If it wasn't another murder, it was another gas leak or explosion... Inevitably, he felt some sympathy for the poor civil engineers and city workers.
As for where he got that taxi? Even simpler.
With Auram's abilities, borrowing a cab in the city wasn't hard... Ah, wait, how could a Hero call it borrowing? It was a reasonable requisition for the sake of world peace to defeat the final Demon King!
'Nobody wanted the car anyway, so I picked it up~'
Just kidding.
Once everything was over, Auram fully intended to return it.
Of course, that was assuming the car still existed by then.
"How could this be... Master, AAAH, Master!!!"
Just as Auram was holding a city map and planning his next moves, a gut-wrenching wail suddenly rose behind him.
"To finally meet a Master who understood me so well—I thought this Holy Grail War would at last fulfill my long-cherished wish. But you've left before me, AHHH, my Master!!"
Calling it a gut-wrenching cry was too kind. It was closer to the howling of the damned.
The sound raised goosebumps all over Auram. He had to put down the map and slowly turn.
And then, he saw the man.
A man in a bizarre dark blue robe, glaring at him with bulging fishlike eyes.
His face was pale, cheekbones sharp, and those protruding eyeballs glowed in the moonlight with an inhuman light, as if long divorced from reason, sunk into some twisted faith.
The appearance and demeanor were so distinctive there was no need for introductions. Auram could call his name at once.
Gilles de Rais.
However, this Servant, bound to Ryuunosuke and appearing as a Caster, was not the national hero who had fought alongside Jeanne d'Arc to retake Orléans in the Hundred Years' War.
This was the Gilles who had lost his mind after Jeanne's capture, fallen into darkness, and become a black sorcerer—the infamous figure who gave rise to the legend of "Bluebeard."
"So it was you? You're the one who killed my Master?!"
"So you did come after all..."
Facing Caster's fierce accusation, Auram just shrugged helplessly.
True, a Servant's existence was mainly sustained by their Master's mana. Even so, that didn't mean a Servant vanished immediately when their Master died.
And Caster's group was even more unusual.
Because Ryuunosuke was a complete outsider to the Grail War, a normal human with no magical power, Caster had sustained himself entirely by hunting others. So Auram wasn't much surprised at Gilles de Rais's appearance.
Still, it was rare for a Servant to avenge their dead Master. Should he praise Caster's loyalty, or call it true love between the two?
"Aaah, my beloved Master! To mourn your departed soul, receive my wrath!"
The man hadn't directly admitted it, but his gestures left no doubt he considered Auram the killer.
With a sharp cry, Caster attacked.
"Awaken, my servants!"
But unlike the knight of the Hundred Years' War, the Caster-class Gilles had long since let his close combat skills atrophy from years of black magic research. His fighting relied mainly on summoning sea demons.
However—
Though Caster shouted loudly, nothing happened even after a long wait. Aside from a lone crow cawing overhead, nothing appeared.
The "servants" he called for did not show.
"Wah...what?"
Caster's bulging eyes widened in disbelief.
Yes, Magi sometimes failed at spellcasting. But as a Servant, the chance of failure was virtually zero.
So what was going on???
Could my summoning... have been negated?!
Rolling his round eyes, Caster quickly hopped back to reestablish distance from Auram.
Auram hadn't revealed any power yet; despite that, Caster's instincts as a Servant told him this man was no ordinary foe.
Without doubt, he was one of them.
Lancer? No, his presence felt more like a Saber.
Since Heroic Spirits varied wildly in abilities, it was plausible this one had a skill that nullified his summoning.
Though deranged, Gilles had once been a veteran of countless battlefields. His instincts were still sharp.
Though so what?
Face twisting, Caster whipped out a grimoire bound in human skin.
With his Master already dead, Gilles de Rais had no reason to conceal his Noble Phantasm.
"Or as my dear Ryuunosuke would put it—let me show you something truly Cool!"
"Hu-hahaha, hu-hahahahahaha!!"
With his near-mad laughter, a sinister black vortex rose from the grimoire in his hands.
This was the ultimate weapon every Servant possessed—a Noble Phantasm.
And the very same ultimate art that had once forced even the trio of Brush-Bro, the King of Conquerors, and the Ahoge King into a prolonged stalemate.
Anti-Army Noble Phantasm: Prelati's Spellbook!
...
"Caw, caw!"
Nevertheless, after another long wait, only another crow flew by overhead.
No colossal sea monsters. No ancient gods of the abyss.
Nothing at all.
All that remained was one wide-eyed Magus clutching his skin-bound grimoire, frozen awkwardly in the night breeze.
He had postured so dramatically, laughed so madly—and then his Noble Phantasm failed to activate?
'How... how could this be!'
Caster's already huge eyes bulged even wider.
This was big! This was really big!!!
...
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