In the throne room of the fortress of Millennia, the Caster of Black used the flame of a Menorah to display the battle fought by that dog of the Association and his Saber of Red. The images were being projected onto the wall - like a movie - and watched by the Masters and Servants of Yggdmillennia.
All the Masters apart from Darnic looked crushed by Saber's fierce assault - one can feel overwhelming battle lust merely through the visuals on display. Despite being of short stature, the knight - a solid metal mass - sped around like a cannonball and disintegrated the golems.
The golems created by the Caster of Black are beyond comparison, possessing the power to fight evenly against low-ranking Servants. Yet they barely lasted one attack - three, at most - before being cut down.
"I suppose this is to be expected of Servant Saber."
Lancer said and Darnic nodded at his lord, unmoved.
"Strength rank B+, Endurance rank A, Agility rank B, Prana rank B... aside from Luck, all her parameters rank above C. Truly fitting for a Heroic Spirit of the Sword."
In particular, the Strength rank is extraordinary. A plus is a rare modifier that allows the particular value to multiply for an instant. And then there are the Anti-Thaumaturgy and Riding skills, both at B-rank - making Saber tenacious enough to only be damaged by A-rank thaumaturgy.
In the three Holy Grail Wars of Fuyuki, only the Servant of Saber ever manages to survive to the end - owing to their multifaceted strengths allowing them to cope with any situation, it is said. Anyone who witnessed the battle just now certainly cannot doubt this.
"What is particularly of note is that a certain section of her parameters are hidden."
As he is a Servant, Lancer did not understand, but Darnic can read the statistics of Servants as a Master. Yet he finds himself utterly unable to gain information on Saber's innate skills or Noble Phantasms. Despite feeling that he can recognize Saber's abilities or the design of the knight's sword, it seems as though he is prevented from recollecting.
Most likely, it is some kind of manifestation of a legend where Saber's identity was kept secret - perhaps an innate skill or a Noble Phantasm. In any case, this Red Saber is sure to be a formidable foe.
"And what of our own Servants? Saber, do you believe that you can defeat this knight?"
Saber nodded wordlessly at Lancer's question. As Gordes had commanded, he continued to maintain his silence even before his lord.
"O sage, how do you view this?"
Archer's smile was as calm as the windless sea when he replied.
"Certainly, this Saber is a difficult opponent. However, once we have determined the nature of the Noble Phantasm, I believe it will not bring us great trouble."
Lancer nodded, looking satisfied.
"Do you know who that Master is, Grandfather?"
Fiore asked.
"Yes, I have acquired information from our kin who infiltrated the Clock Tower. He is Shishigou Kairi, a necromancer and bounty hunter... a freelancer who takes any job."
"Earning money with thaumaturgy...? Filthy little peddler."
Gordes spat. To him, thaumaturgy is a field of research and not something that one should ever use to earn a profit. The other Masters feel much the same. There is great disdain - and in some cases, bewilderment - in their eyes. Only Darnic, having lived over a century on the path of thaumaturgy, and Selenik, who employs curses from the dark arts as part of her work, were coldly analyzing his actual strength.
"He is powerful."
"...Looks that way."
Necromancy is a thaumaturgy developed through corpses. Naturally, this craft - which raises simple zombies or gives birth to cobbled monsters - requires a large amount of dead bodies. And where does one acquire such an amount? No, not in the graveyard or the morgue - but on the field of battle. The greatest of necromancers flock to war. It can be said to be the fate of a necromancer to take the greatest of joys in gathering their resources after revolutions or coup d'etats... anything that results in genocide.
Since ancient times, there has never been an end to war - and necromancers have never been unaccompanied by danger. They experiment at the risk of putting their own lives on the line. They may even end up fighting their own rampaging creations. Still, there are few magi who would gladly throw themselves onto the battlefield - it was beyond irrationality.
The Shishigou family is already in its seventh generation of magi despite hailing from the Far East, where thaumaturgy can hardly be said to be flourishing. The treatise written by the sixth generation head, Shishigou Touki, had been highly praised at the Clock Tower so it was expected that his son Kairi would naturally pursue the path of a Clock Tower researcher. However, he was gone before the end of his third year, leaving his education behind.
Since then, he has trawled battlefields for corpses and stepped into the life of a bounty hunter, suppressing heretical magi for money.
His motives are unknown but, apparently, his skills and personality fitted the job. In ten year's time, the name of Shishigou Kairi had spread to the ears of even the thaumaturgical underground.
Of course, he had not completely cut off ties with the Association - doubtless he has been hired this time as well, working for some sort of great compensation. In fact, practically all of the Masters sent by the Association are of this type. The only exception is Shirou Kotomine, the priest sent by the Church.
There is absolutely no information on the priest aside from the fact that he belongs to the Assembly of the Eighth Sacrament. Of course, the Yggdmillennia has kin within the Church itself... but there is still little to no history concerning him. This means either his curriculum vitae is truly blank, or he is placed very deeply within the organization.
Regardless, aside from this unknown element, every single one of the other six Masters are elites among elites. Only Darnic and Fiore would be able to oppose them in a match of thaumaturgy.
But, unfortunately for the Masters of the Red camp, they must pay the price for using Servants by providing their own prana. That is not the case for the Yggdmillennia - although they are Masters and possess the Command Spells, the prana pathways supplying the Servants bypass them and lead to another. The Servants use up none of the Masters' own prana.
Of course, as a safeguard, they do provide the minimum amount of prana necessary - that is to say, the Masters are still the ones allowing the Servants to exist in this world. But aside from this core requirement being provided by the Masters, the prana that the Servants expend - using Noble Phantasms, auto-recovery or thaumaturgy - will all be shouldered by something else.
In this way, they can easily close the gap in terms of raw power. The more excellent the magus, the more prana his or her craft will consume - if it comes down to it, they may end up laughably struggling against their Servants for their own supply.
Anyone who believes that such a great war can be won with only ten days of preparation is greatly mistaken. The Yggdmillennia... no, Darnic has been putting everything in place since the moment the third Holy Grail War in Fuyuki ended.
"Battle approaches..."
The Lancer of Black murmured. Every Master and Servant in the room wordlessly agreed. In the depths of their hearts there is something inflaming each of them - and with this spark, they shall declare war.
It will not be long before the two sides commit and open hostilities. There is one thing that every participant of both the Yggdmillennia and the Association can agree on - this great war will revolve around the fourteen Servants.
But on that day... the fate of one moved.
***
Everything was in indistinct turmoil.
His bared nerves - his Circuits - pumped out prana. His soul was being melted... dissolved... disintegrated. He was clearly conscious yet unable to form thoughts.
A weak 'instinct' was protesting about some great pain... but to him, it sounded like nothing more than the cries of an insignificant creature.
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