For the residents of Sighișoara, it might have been just another ordinary day. They woke up to a bright morning, busied themselves with daily chores, and by the ti the moon hung high amidst sparse stars, they lay in bed, closing their eyes to mark the end of another tally of ti.
They would never know that within the silent church standing atop the hillside, a eting was unfolding—one that could alter both the present and the future.
"...Are you a Servant?"
Shirou—or rather, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada—with his white hair and golden eyes, gazed intently at Sakatsuki as he posed the question.
Under Sakatsuki’s revelation, his identity was no longer a secret: during the Third Holy Grail War, the Einzbern family had employed two cheating thods. One was summoning the theoretically most destructive Avenger-class Servant, while the other was the more tactically advantageous Ruler-class.
In Apocrypha, the Einzberns had chosen the latter, summoning the young man before them—Ruler, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada.
As a Servant, Amakusa was not particularly powerful, but his class-granted ability, True Na Discernnt, still granted the Einzberns a significant advantage in intelligence warfare, making their victory highly plausible... Unfortunately, Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia led a Nazi invasion, seized the Holy Grail, and the war ended inconclusively.
However, before the Greater Grail was taken, Amakusa had co into contact with it, incarnating into a human body. The overseer of that war, Risei Kotomine, secretly brought this ’saint’ into the Holy Church, where he beca a priest of the Eighth Sacrant. Leveraging his position, Amakusa spent sixty years collecting relics in the Middle East, preparing for the Greater Grail’s return.
And all of this—was for the sake of his wish.
Gazing at Amakusa, Sakatsuki did not reveal his final secret. The revelations he had shared thus far were all verifiable, but Amakusa’s wish... that was not sothing to be spoken aloud.
Like placing weights on a scale, Sakatsuki could neither offer too little—lest he fail to earn the Red Faction’s trust—nor go too far, forcing them to draw their blades against him.
Balance was paramount.
"You’re wondering why True Na Discernnt can’t uncover my details, aren’t you?" Sakatsuki countered Amakusa’s question with one of his own. "Just like Red Saber, Mordred?"
"Mordred... the Knight of Treachery?" The black-clad woman beside Amakusa froze montarily before quickly piecing it together, thanks to Sakatsuki’s deliberate hint. "So, Red Saber is the son of King Arthur, the betrayer who brought down Britain?"
"Mordred’s mother is the witch Morgan le Fay. I see. So, like Red Saber, you also possess techniques to conceal information."
Amakusa studied Sakatsuki with a grave expression, as if pondering what else he might know. But Sakatsuki was prepared and cut him off before he could probe further.
"Don’t bother asking where I’m from or what I know. I’m just a hired hand for the Mage’s Association. All you need to know is that my goal is singular—to assist the Mage’s Association in defeating Yggdmillennia and securing victory."
Having thrown down so many chips and orchestrated such a tense first encounter, Sakatsuki had now laid bare his deliberately crafted intentions, personality, and behavioral patterns before the Red Faction.
As the covert ’leader’ of the Red Faction, would Amakusa Shirou Tokisada accept such a person?
Silence slowly flowed through the church as Amakusa’s expression shifted. Finally, he let out a long sigh and chose to concede first.
"The Red Faction won’t refuse such a powerful Servant. But I must apologize—given your unusual origins, we lack the necessary trust between us. As for intelligence matters..."
"Ah, I understand." Sakatsuki stood up, smiling warmly as he shook Amakusa’s hand. "I’ll handle the intelligence side. I won’t interfere much in your daily affairs—just call when there’s a fight."
"...Then, it’s a pleasure to cooperate with you, Lord Sakatsuki. By the way, may I ask if your class is Assassin?"
"Mm-hmm, of course."
"In that case, may I inquire about your connection to the Hassans..."
It was clear Amakusa wanted to communicate further with Sakatsuki, but just then, the church doors were flung open as soone barged in unceremoniously.
It was a flamboyant man dressed in extravagant dieval European attire, staggering down the nave with arms outstretched, shouting to the heavens:
"—A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!"
Faced with this uninvited guest, both Amakusa and the Empress remained silent. Only the black-cloaked youth, who had just gained their recognition, curled his lips in delight.
"Oh, you’re here! Shakes... no, Shakespeare!"
Perhaps now that he had Amakusa’s approval, he no longer needed to restrain himself. Or perhaps, outside of battle, this was the true nature of the man called ’Sakatsuki.’ The black-cloaked youth stepped forward with a smile, bowing exaggeratedly and theatrically to the flamboyant man.
"Step back, my liege. Allow to help you mount your steed."
"Oh ho! So there are still those in this era who understand my works!" the flamboyant man praised in a moved tone before eagerly picking up Sakatsuki’s cue, his delivery uncannily resembling the arrogant and wretched Richard III himself.
"Slave! I have set my life upon a cast, and I will stand the hazard of the die. I think there be six Richmonds in the field; five have I slain today instead of him—"
Finally, Sakatsuki straightened up, locking eyes with the flamboyant man as they both shouted the closing line in unison:
"A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!"
The impromptu yet seamless performance was so shocking that the two onlookers stood dumbfounded for a long while. Only when the two madn burst into laughter and embraced like long-lost brothers did they snap out of it. Amakusa gulped and stamred:
"Caster... do you know Lord Sakatsuki?"
Hearing this, the man called Caster slumped his shoulders in disappointnt and sighed. "Inconceivable! To live in this world yet remain ignorant of my masterful plays! Master, you simply must read my works!"
With that, he pulled out a thick hardcover book—apparently, he had gone to a bookstore to purchase his own collected works. The title read: The Complete Works of Shakespeare.
"Red" Caster, William Shakespeare. He is the most renowned playwright in the world—anyone unfamiliar with his works would undoubtedly be deed ignorant. It’s no exaggeration to say that tracing the origins of all modern literature inevitably leads back to Shakespeare’s nurous masterpieces.
However, there was one crucial detail in his earlier words that couldn’t be ignored. Caster had addressed Shirou as "Master." Father Shirou’s Servant was Assassin, yet Caster referred to him as "Master." If this claim held truth, then Shirou was already commanding two Servants simultaneously.
While theoretically possible, this was still highly irregular. In past Holy Grail Wars, there had never been an instance of a single Master leading two Servants at once. At best, such an act would drain one’s magical energy to the point of death. Yet if this were true, it was unimaginable just how much magical energy this man nad Shirou must harbor within him.
"Even the Holy Grail wouldn’t bestow upon all knowledge related to your works. At most, I only know you as ’a famous writer in history,’" the Empress remarked with displeasure, subtly deflecting the awkwardness for Amakusa.
Hearing Assassin’s words, Caster sighed dramatically to the heavens:
"Oh, Empress of Assyria! Please do not speak such sorrowful words. To , Shakespeare, this is tantamount to denying my very personhood!"
As proof, Shakespeare gestured toward Sakatsuki, who stood smiling. "Behold, this fellow Servant here seamlessly followed my lines, did he not?"
"That’s only because he was born in an era after yours," the Empress retorted irritably. "Now, back to the matter at hand, Caster. Did sothing happen to make you materialize here so deliberately?"
At Assassin’s question, Caster heaved another exaggerated sigh before suddenly freezing. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he admitted:
"Well, ah... As the saying goes, ’Lovers and madn have such seething brains.’ Even a Berserker, in rare monts, can act in ways beyond rational comprehension—"
"Has Berserker gone on another rampage?" Amakusa interjected.
Caster shook his head repeatedly in denial.
"Speak plainly, Caster," the Empress snapped, rolling her eyes. Only then did Caster break into a grin befitting a court jester and declare theatrically:
"Berserker has begun marching toward Trifas. It seems he has identified the enemy he must destroy."
"Wha—"
"...My, this is quite troubleso indeed."
Empress was montarily speechless, while Shirou muttered in a leisurely tone.
For the Red Faction, this was likely an entirely unforeseen developnt.
Yet none of them noticed the young man leaning against the corner, wearing a knowing smile.
Sakatsuki understood that with the Blue faction’s entry into the battlefield, the gears of fate had already begun turning irreversibly forward.
"Well, to be or not to be... that is the question..."
***
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