"...Hmm. Not bad."
A young man with brown skin, long blonde hair reaching down to his chest, and a gold chain as thick as a pinky finger—Atrum Galliasta—stared at the aftermath of his bombardnt with a cruel smile.
This was on a nearby highland.
The Lake District of Winderre is one of the most renowned holiday destinations in the UK, so naturally, the Iselma family couldn't monopolize it. Iselma's territory is only a small area with a radius of a few kiloters, while outside the territory are various public resorts and luxury hotels.
Atrum was in the lobby of one such hotel, peering down at Iselma's land through an antique brass telescope.
The entire hotel had been booked, with no outsiders allowed in or out, so Atrum acted without concern. He reached out to embrace a scantily clad maid sitting on his lap and whispered.
"So, how is it? I'm confident that my fire rivals the witch's flas that once burned her love rivals and their cities to ashes."
The young man compared his actions to the destructive magic once wielded by the Witch of Betrayal dea, boasting about his accomplishnts.
If Shinji heard him, he might have laughed until his stomach hurt.
First of all, this guy was a participant in the Fifth Holy Grail War, having bought his way in with a vast amount of money. The servant he summoned was none other than dea.
Secondly, the environnt in which dea lived during the Age of Gods was vastly different from the modern world. Before the Common Era, a magus of dea's caliber could rival modern bombers with just a single spell. For modern magus, even with ritual magecraft or grand sorceries, reaching that level is not guaranteed.
Atrum only succeeded because he had the right timing, location, and people on his side.
Timing: The weather here was unpredictable.
Location: The Lake District was rich in water vapor.
People: Atrum brought thirty-two magus from the Galliasta family to set up the ritual. The Galliasta family happened to specialize in lightning-related magecraft, which created the thunderous, earth-shaking effect. Purely in terms of magical skill, Atrum wasn't even fit to carry dea's shoes.
Finally, and most crucially, in Fate/Stay Night, regardless of the worldline, Atrum's fate was to be burned to death by dea. Yes, by the very witch's fire, he was now boasting about to the maid.
You really shouldn't tempt Fate. Unless you're the protagonist, the true chosen one, no one can save you once that flag is raised.
Of course, Atrum was unaware that his future was already sealed. He smiled triumphantly and issued further orders to his subordinates.
"Let the plundering begin! Usurp them! Start increasing efficiency!"
This is how the Galliasta family rose to power.
If you want sothing, go ahead and take it.
Wield your blade without hesitation.
This was the way Atrum was taught.
To determine the head of the family, his father subjected Atrum and his siblings to various trials centered on power struggles. Atrum completed these trials with the highest efficiency. Unlike his father, who inherited the title but never delved into the world of magecraft, Atram proudly embraced magecraft.
He believed that magecraft, considered outdated, was more advantageous in modern tis.
The pain he endured while inheriting the family's magic crest was also a source of joy for him because it was the best way to savor the fruits of his victory—just like now.
The maid in his arms, his most trusted assistant, softly asked: "Young master, is this okay? That place has..."
"Has what? That old woman from Valualeta?"
Atrum scoffed as he pinched the maid's waist hard.
The maid silently acquiesced.
After venting his anger for a while, Atrum, seemingly satisfied, explained.
"Don't worry. I'm not so arrogant as to challenge the authority of a lord, let alone one of the three great noble families like Valualeta. Mick Grazilier has already contacted that old woman on our behalf. As long as we don't cause any real harm, she'll turn a blind eye to our actions, saying she wants to investigate sothing using us. It's infuriating, but for now, we'll let her use us. Her arrogance will be repaid by Iselma in full—there are plenty of ways to make her life worse than death. What's the matter? You seem like you have more to say. Go ahead, you're looking out for , after all. I can tell the difference between good and bad."
With her master's permission, the maid breathed a slight sigh of relief and voiced her concern: "In Iselma, besides Lord Valualeta, there is also Professor Velvet from the El-lloi Classroom and his students. I hear that group of New Age magi is quite troubleso."
"I thought you were going to say sothing serious. So it's just that."
Atrum's face showed obvious disappointnt.
"A useless teacher who can't do anything but teach, and a bunch of problem students no other departnt wanted—what El-lloi Classroom, what New Age? It's just a fancy title."
"But Professor Velvet is called the Crownless Lord, so perhaps—"
"I see your courage has shrunk since we arrived in London. If it were the actual El-lloi Lord, I'd have to retreat. But a Crownless Lord? I'll worry about him when he becos a lord. Besides, Mick said that El-lloi and Iselma almost had a falling out. They might even try to take advantage of the situation. As long as he doesn't cause trouble, I wouldn't mind making friends with him—after all, he's also a survivor of that ritual. It seems he's been in debt recently. If he's willing to exchange information, I don't mind helping him out. Any problem that can be solved with money isn't a problem—Galliasta has no shortage of money; just digging up a bit of oil will do. Hahaha, technological advancent isn't all bad."
"If he stands against us..."
"Then we'll crush them all. By the way, he seems to have kept so relic of a great hero, right? Let's take this opportunity to get that artifact too. Even though we can only summon one servant, it never hurts to be prepared. I'm not participating with a casual attitude like the El-lloi students who gained nothing and nearly ruined their families."
To Atrum, the only opponent worth fearing was Lord Valualeta. Everyone else was irrelevant. Though she was nothing more than an ancient relic with no other rits, in the world of magecraft, age had its value.
However, that obstacle had already been removed. In that twin tower, there was no longer anyone to fear. There was no need to care about trivial murders. Just trample them head-on and take what you want.
"Let's go."
With that, Atrum picked up his wine glass and stood up.
"Repent well—for the cri of stealing my prey and the cri of refusing to negotiate with ."
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