A quiet sigh echoed after Artoria finished speaking.
The one who sighed was Morgan.
Unlike the disapproval in Iskandar's expression or the mockery that followed Gilgash's words, a touch of lancholy appeared on the witch's snow-pale face.
No one knew why she sighed.
"Even knowing the truth, understanding how it ends, you still cling to the dream of saving Britannia?" A trace of reluctance and resignation flickered in Morgan's eyes. "No matter how much I want to distinguish myself from you, in the end… in so ways, you and I really are the sa kind of person."
Artoria fell silent and sat back down. "…Maybe."
They were fundantally incompatible, destined to reject each other's very existence. Yet Artoria knew—though she had never said it aloud—that Morgan loved Britannia almost as much as Artoria did.
"But—" Morgan continued, this ti to everyone present, "Whether it's to gain the strength to conquer the world, to punish the thief who stole your treasure, or… to save your ruined holand. Your motivations, your goals, all hinge on the omnipotent wish-granting machine, the Holy Grail. Without it, none of this could proceed."
Iskandar fixed Morgan with a sharp stare. "And what are you getting at? Don't tell
you're trying to convince everyone to give up on the Grail now, at the eleventh hour?"
"There's no need for that." Morgan idly turned the exquisite golden wine cup in her hand. "If you want the Holy Grail, go ahead and fight for it. Isn't that why you entered the Holy Grail War in the first place? Of course… that's assuming the Holy Grail in Fuyuki can actually grant your wishes."
Irisviel, who had stayed silent and had no intention of joining the heroes' debate, could no longer remain a passive listener.
"What are you talking about? Berserker, the Holy Grail War is a system created jointly by the Einzbern, Tohsaka, and Matou families. Its ultimate purpose is to summon the Holy Grail and obtain the omnipotent wish-granting machine." Irisviel couldn't grasp the aning behind Morgan's words. "Even if it isn't a treasure like the great cup of Uruk, it is still, without question, an omnipotent wish-granting machine!"
Nine years ago, Kiritsugu Emiya accepted the Einzbern family's invitation, and it was there he t Irisviel.
Irisviel firmly believed that her husband's wish could be realized through the Holy Grail, and from the depths of her heart, she understood what Kiritsugu longed for. So even knowing that, as the Lesser Grail, she would never escape the Holy Grail War, she still willingly chose to give everything for the man she loved.
"Hey, Berserker, what are you even talking about?" Waver looked utterly confused.
He started wondering if this Servant had already lost her mind due to Mad Enhancent. Maybe she only seed coherent—what if she'd been spouting nonsense from the start? How else could anyone say sothing so bizarre?
"You still haven't noticed? The Holy Grail War system in Fuyuki was originally designed to summon Heroic Spirits from different eras to serve as Servants. But this ti is different. The one summoned under the Caster class doesn't even qualify as a Heroic Spirit." Morgan glanced around with a faint, mocking smile. "Calling that kind of Servant an evil spirit or a vengeful ghost would be far more accurate."
Her words sent a jolt through everyone present.
It was true—aside from Caster, all the other Servants had made nas for themselves in history or legend. But Gilles de Rais was an exception.
He had once been a hero of the Hundred Years' War, yes. But everything he did afterward was etched into human history as horror stories, which over ti twisted him into sothing monstrous—an evil spirit.
"Please… explain more clearly..." Irisviel's voice trembled, and sweat glistened on her pale forehead.
Ever since Lancer's fall, her body, acting as the Lesser Grail, had absorbed the soul of the first Servant. Since then, her bodily functions had slowly started to shut down. Even sitting here and speaking now was already pushing her to the limit.
But what Berserker said next hit her like a bolt of lightning.
"To put it simply, the Holy Grail has gone mad." Morgan's voice was eerily calm as she dropped the bombshell into the stillness of the courtyard.
Gilgash raised an intrigued eyebrow. Compared to ordinary treasures, sothing "mad" was far more worth his attention.
Iskandar and Artoria, anwhile, were visibly shaken.
"Gone mad? What do you an?" Iskandar scowled. He wasn't about to entrust his wish to a faulty wish-granting device. "Doesn't look like she's joking."
"No… there's no way… how could this be happening..." Artoria struggled to accept the idea.
So far, all they had was Morgan's claim. Even if she pointed to Caster as evidence, it could still be chalked up to coincidence—or blad on the fact that Caster's Master was a serial killer, which might explain the kind of Servant summoned.
But they didn't have ti to think it over.
A sudden wave of unnatural cold swept through the area. Even through the Shiomi family's bounded field, which was supposed to filter out magical signals, the chill was palpable.
Waver's long-dormant Magic Circuits jolted awake, sending sharp pangs through his body.
"This ominous magical surge..." Shiomi turned sharply toward the disturbance.
Iskandar and Artoria followed his gaze.
Clearly, tonight's banquet was over—without any conclusions reached.
Soone had already ignited the flas of war near the Mion River.
Four Servants were gathered here. Though news of Lancer's defeat hadn't spread yet, Saber's side already knew.
Assassin didn't have the capacity to produce such overwhelming magical energy, which left only one possibility—
"It's Caster," Morgan said flatly. "This kind of magical fluctuation matches a multi-verse ceremonial incantation. The mana output is equivalent to dozens of people."
In an instant, Morgan had gauged the scale of the ritual.
"Hmph—looks like so mongrels don't intend to spend the night peacefully," Gilgash said as golden light shimred around him. His form faded into spirit mode and vanished from the Shiomi courtyard, leaving only his voice echoing behind. "Fight your hardest. Hunt down Caster and the rest. Show
what you're worth, hahahaha—"
As the laughter faded, Iskandar rose from the blanket, grabbing a sandwich and downing it in a single bite.
"If they dare interrupt the banquet, then we'll clean up Caster tonight—along with whatever we missed earlier!"
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / PinkSnake
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