The reason Ren Kuroda could see through other people's True Nas wasn't because he possessed so special skill—
It was because he'd seen this story before.
Naturally, dea wasn't satisfied with that explanation at all. Still, after weighing the vast gap in strength between them, she chose to swallow her displeasure.
There was no helping it—reality was cruel.
After seeing Ren's paraters, dea simply couldn't muster any desire to fight him head-on.
With her reinforcent magecraft, Kuzuki Sōichirō could rival an average Servant in combat. Even so, dea had no confidence that the two of them together could defeat Ren.
"Fine. If you don't want to reveal your trump cards, I won't force you," dea said coolly. "But as a condition of our cooperation, if any new Servants appear in the future, you must tell their True Nas."
To be honest, no one would've believed Ren's excuse anyway. But dea's request wasn't unreasonable, so he nodded in agreent.
"Our chances in this Holy Grail War are still quite high," dea continued. "As long as we win the initial faction conflict, we'll have the advantage in the internal struggle within the Blue faction. After all, we have two Servants."
Ren had been listening casually—until she ntioned factions.
"The Holy Grail War isn't supposed to be seven modern magi summoning seven Servants of different Classes, all fighting it out until the last one standing claims the Grail, right?" Ren frowned. "So what's this 'Blue faction' nonsense? Why doesn't this match the rules I know?!"
Ren knew that the Type-Moon world had seen multiple Holy Grail Wars, and that the rules sotis changed.
But considering the dea–Kuzuki pairing, if his mory served him right, this tiline should've been the Fifth Holy Grail War.
And as far as he knew, the Fifth wasn't supposed to be this flashy—just a chaotic free-for-all among seven Servants.
"I don't know the specifics either," dea replied, shaking her head. "But according to the rules granted to by the Grail, this Holy Grail War is divided into two factions.
"Red and Blue. Each faction has seven Servants of different Classes, along with their Masters.
"Our objective is to win the faction war first, then compete for the final ownership of the Grail.
"And because there are so many participants this ti, there will be two winning Master–Servant pairs."
Ren was completely dumbfounded.
These rules were nothing like the Fifth Holy Grail War he knew.
And with the rules changed, he couldn't even be sure whether the Servants summoned this ti were the sa ones he rembered.
Even if the original lineup remained unchanged, who were the seven Servants of the other faction?
He had no clue.
"So we're the Blue faction's Caster and Assassin," Ren said slowly. "Do you know any of the others on our side? Or have you encountered anyone from the Red faction?"
Servants were already abnormal beings to begin with. And with absurd monsters like Gilgash or Karna potentially in the mix, Ren genuinely felt uneasy now that the plot had derailed.
"Before I killed my first Master," dea said calmly, "I did encounter a Lancer.
"We were supposedly both part of the Blue faction, but he seed quite displeased with killing my Master—and even attacked because of it."
Hearing her description, Ren imdiately ford a rough idea of who that Lancer was.
Irish hero. Son of light.
The Hound of Culann—Cú Chulainn.
That Cú Chulainn would attack dea despite being in the sa faction didn't surprise Ren in the slightest.
In his legends, Cú Chulainn had once killed a guard dog by accident—and then willingly served as its replacent for a month out of sheer responsibility.
Loyalty ant everything to him.
And dea?
Known as the Witch of Betrayal, who killed her Master almost the mont she was summoned.
From Cú Chulainn's perspective, that kind of behavior was utterly intolerable.
One was called a mad hound, the other a betraying witch—their compatibility was practically nonexistent.
Moreover, if Cú Chulainn truly belonged to the Blue faction—and Ren himself had replaced Sasaki Kojirō—
Then maybe the so-called Blue faction consisted entirely of participants from the Fifth Holy Grail War.
If that were the case, their lineup was terrifying.
Saber Artoria and the walking cheat code Emiya Shirō aside—
Heracles. Cú Chulainn.
Both were demigods.
Their combat power spoke for itself.
Of course, all of this was rely Ren's speculation.
Not all Servants had been summoned yet, so the Holy Grail War hadn't officially begun.
That entire day, Ren stayed at Ryūdō Temple, familiarizing himself with his abilities as a Servant.
Ryūdō Temple was one of Fuyuki City's spiritual nexus points. Combined with dea's Caster-class skill Territory Creation, it had been fortified into an impregnable stronghold.
That said, such defenses were only effective against ordinary humans.
For Servants, infiltrating Ryūdō Temple wasn't particularly difficult.
While dea was inside crafting magical tools, she suddenly sensed sothing and stood up from her chair, glancing toward Ren—who was sprawled on the couch binge-watching shows.
"My defensive bounded fields were triggered," she said. "Judging from the aura, it's not an ordinary opponent.
"Looks like so hunting dog has co sniffing around. Your combat abilities are… questionable. Stay here—I'll deal with him."
After leaving those words behind, Ren's body scattered into countless particles and vanished from the spot.
In truth, dea didn't need to warn him.
Cú Chulainn had no intention of hiding at all.
The mont he entered Ryūdō Temple, he began releasing his mana freely and aggressively.
Sneaking around and ambushing wasn't his style.
He preferred open, unmistakable provocation.
Only Casters possessed Territory Creation among the seven Classes, and Cú Chulainn knew exactly whose territory he was stepping into.
But with his extraordinary skill and fearless spirit, he feared no battlefield.
A frail Caster?
Lancer didn't even put her in his eyes.
To draw the hidden Caster out, Cú Chulainn imdiately went into full demolition mode.
To magi, the defensive formations here were lethally dangerous.
To the Hound of Culann, they were laughable.
As he smashed through barriers and taunted his unseen opponent, the instincts of a seasoned warrior suddenly scread at him—
A sharp, needle-like sense of danger stabbed into his back.
Most people would've tried to dodge.
But the man Gilgash had once called a mad dog possessed a different kind of feral instinct.
The instant he sensed danger, Cú Chulainn didn't evade.
He reversed his grip on the crimson spear in his hand and, without the slightest hesitation, spun around and thrust—
A perfect counterstrike.
The red spear—Gáe Bolg—shot out like lightning, tearing through the air itself.
Cú Chulainn didn't know what had triggered his danger sense.
But he was confident of one thing—
If the attacker refused to retreat, mutual injury was possible.
But far more likely—
The other guy would be hurt much worse.
After all, the spear in his hand wasn't sothing you casually blocked.
Even without releasing its True Na, Gáe Bolg was a legendary cursed spear.
Not sothing any random Servant could take head-on.
Yet the mont he thrust the spear, the sense of danger didn't fade—
It intensified.
Instead of fear, a manic grin spread across Cú Chulainn's face.
"Hahaha! You've got guts! Not many people would dare face my cursed spear without dodging.
"But are you really sure you're going to trade injuries with ?
"Or are you just setting yourself up to get hurt worse?"
As a long blade slashed toward his shoulder from the darkness, Cú Chulainn smiled confidently.
As the Light of Ireland and the Hound of Culann, his martial skill was exceptional. The instant he thrust his spear, he shifted his body—
Minimizing his own damage while maximizing his opponent's.
Between a spear and a sword, the spear had a clear advantage.
With a slight adjustnt, Cú Chulainn achieved the perfect posture—
Minimal injury to himself.
Maximum damage to the enemy.
The blade would at most nick his shoulder.
But his spear—
Was aid straight for the heart.
—KRRSH!
The sound of leather armor being torn apart rang out as the blade ripped through his pauldron. Blood slowly seeped from Cú Chulainn's shoulder.
He didn't care.
What he cared about—
Was whether the other guy had been hurt worse.
As the dust kicked up by the spear's thrust slowly settled, the figure before him beca clear—
And Cú Chulainn's expression twisted as if he'd seen a ghost.
"You're right," Ren Kuroda said calmly. "I never intended for us to trade injuries.
"Because when you choose to clash head-on with —
The only one who gets hurt…
…is you."
As an Assassin, Ren possessed more than just Presence Concealnt.
Stealth was a core part of the Class.
Cú Chulainn's instincts hadn't been wrong—his spear had been aid at Ren's vital point.
It just hadn't achieved the result he expected.
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