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As the pioneer of quadrilateral jungling, you could call Maverick greedy — but not brainless.
The situation was excellent.
The Minotaur was formidable, but penned between Achilles and Artoria, he was clearly running on will rather than capability. Outmatched on two fronts, holding by stubbornness alone. In that situation, finishing the enemy Master was obviously the correct play — no mana supply meant no Servant for long, regardless of how strong the Servant was. Why would you trade Servant against Servant when you could just remove the source?
Only a fool would choose the harder path when the easier one existed.
As the Command Seal's coercive force pulled Artoria forward, she materialized directly between Maverick and the Berserker's Master, invisible sword already raised.
The Berserker's Master had 2x acceleration. He'd chosen 2x because it was sustainable, efficient, a strategy player's choice.
Maverick had 5x. Five times was not sustainable. Five times was the kind of choice you made when you wanted a decisive blow and were willing to pay for it afterward.
Artoria's sword rose and fell.
Under the Berserker's Master's expression of complete disbelief, his head separated from his shoulders, tumbled upward like a ball, and dissolved into golden data before it finished the arc.
[Your Servant has eliminated player "I'm Very — Bear With It a Moment." Reward: Holy Grail Fragment ×1.]
[Chat]: TAKING OFF
[Chat]: MAVERICK
[Noting]: thick eyebrows, honest face, uses his last Command Seal to teleport his Servant directly onto the enemy Master's head
[Strategy_Appreciation]: this is called strategy. this is what strategy looks like.
[In_Awe]: I keep watching this and it feels like a movie. the freedom in this game is genuinely absurd.
[Conspiracy_Theory]: what if Maverick took a sponsorship deal and this whole stream was actually a secretly filmed advertisement
[Someone_Believed_It]: oh no
[Response]: he believed it
[Checking_Sleep_Status]: I must not be fully awake. Maverick actually got the most kills. I'm having an absurd dream.
[Math]: so now it's just Achilles and the Assassin group. and Achilles's heel is already pierced.
[Spicy_Strip_Bet]: the ten packs are gone. farewell.
[Maverick_Fan_Response]: hmph. you didn't even bet on him.
[Counter]: did YOU bet on him?
[Long_Pause]: ...no
As the Berserker's Master dissolved, the mana supply cut out.
Asterius — one of the few Berserker-class Servants who retained rational thought — felt it immediately. The signal from his Master, constant through the whole war, went silent.
He let out a sound that wasn't battle and wasn't language. Then Achilles's spear found the gap in his attention and drove through his heart.
"Master!"
"Now — the weakness is open!"
"ALL OF YOU — MUST — DIE!"
"That's a bit much to say," Achilles said, already stepping back, "given that the only one dying right now is you."
Achilles considered himself fortunate. He'd suppressed his nature this entire war — the part of him that wanted to fight fairly, to give the Minotaur the duel he deserved, to meet a monster built for labyrinths on equal terms. He'd done none of that. He'd protected his Master, moved when he needed to move, and fought efficiently rather than gloriously.
And he'd gotten, in return, a Master who had burned three Command Seals without hesitation to keep him standing.
Other Servants might not find that in several lifetimes of searching.
So he didn't fight to the death. He stepped back, picked up his Master, and ran — leaving the Minotaur's last moments to play out without an audience, because there was no need to witness it and nothing to gain from prolonging it.
Artoria did the same. The enemy Master was gone, the Spirit Core was shattered. There was nothing left to fight.
They simply waited.
Asterius stood in the ruined courtyard. Empty. The Columbus army was gone. Ashiya Doman was gone. His Master was gone. The noise of the entire Holy Grail War had receded to silence.
His knees buckled.
He looked at the place where his Master had been standing.
"Master..."
His dual halberds dropped. He folded onto the ground and became golden particles, slowly, like something that had decided to leave rather than being forced out.
[Chat]: ...
[Chat]: oh no
[Fighting_Feelings]: he was a villain. the Berserker group tried to trap everyone in an eternal labyrinth.
[Also_Fighting_Feelings]: I know. I know that. it still hurts.
[Honest]: a competitive game is just that cruel. neither side did anything wrong. it's just the rules.
[Wishing]: I wish the Berserker's Master had been less patient. if he'd trapped only Maverick's group instead of waiting for everyone, maybe Asterius would have made it further.
[Responding]: the greed was his undoing. but also his greatest moment strategically.
[Suddenly_Different_Comment]: those big feet though. covered in dust. they look... delicious?
[Chat]: HUH
[Chat]: HUH
[Chat]: HUH
[Philosopher]: what can dilute sadness?
[Answering]: apparently: that.
The "Huh?" flood replaced the "Tearful!" flood in roughly three seconds flat, which was either a testament to the chat's emotional flexibility or its complete inability to stay serious for more than thirty consecutive seconds. Probably both.
Maverick, for his part, was not reading the chat.
He was looking at Artoria and Achilles, who had — by some shared instinct — not gone in opposite directions after the fight. They'd gone together, toward the back mountain that Excalibur had leveled into a trench, toward the oldest arena available.
They set down their respective Masters.
They looked at each other.
The final Servant battle of the Holy Grail War had begun.
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