Chapter 20: ...Alright, the rest is up to you, brats.

Just before dawn, Bazett returned. Facing Shirou and the others, who had been waiting in the living room, she said:
"—We’re going."

The group exchanged nods, reaffirming each other’s resolve.

This raid on Caster’s camp would have Bazett and Lancer as the main fighting force. However, the two of them could only hold off two enemies at most. Since there were three opponents, one would be left unengaged—that was the role Shirou’s group of three had to handle.

"…Let’s go over the plan."

On the road to Mount Enzo, Bazett began speaking as they walked.

"Lancer will take on our primary target—Caster."

Their victory condition was to eliminate Caster above all else. Taking down the other two was something they actually wanted to avoid. That was why they were throwing their strongest fighter at her.

"I’m counting on you, Lancer. Hit her with everything you’ve got right from the start."
"Got it, Master."

Walking at Bazett’s side, Lancer was inscribing glowing runes into his spear and along his body. Illya explained to Shirou that these were rune magic inscriptions.

"I’ll handle Saber. She’ll likely be waiting in a state where her true power as King Arthur has been unleashed—"

Saber was hailed as the finest of Servants, and among them stood the mightiest Heroic Spirit—King Arthur. For even a Sealing Designation Enforcer, challenging such a being as a mere human was madness. Yet Bazett spoke without a trace of hesitation.

"The problem is Archer… are you certain about this?"

She glanced toward Rin for confirmation, and Rin nodded.

"We’ve got Illya, the ‘Holy Grail,’ on our side. And Shirou, too."

Normally, Illya—who had little combat ability—should have been left at the Emiya house. But there were two reasons for bringing her into the battlefield.

First, she was a target for the other factions. Leaving her alone and defenseless would be like leaving meat in front of a starving beast.

Second, her sheer value. All factions already knew she was the Holy Grail—that was why Makiri had tried to kidnap her. By taking advantage of that fact, they could use her presence as a deterrent.

"As long as Illya’s here, Archer and the others won’t be able to unleash any large-scale attacks. If we can force them into close combat, we should be able to hold out to some degree."

That said, it wasn’t guaranteed. Rin and Illya seemed to have some confidence in their chances, but Shirou’s swordsmanship was far from Archer’s level.

He’d sparred with Lancer for one night and thought he’d improved a little, but this wasn’t the kind of opponent a bit of last-minute training would work on.

Archer might be an archer in class, but he was also a dual-swordsman whose skill rivaled the spearwork of the greatest hero of Celtic myth. In their second fight, he’d even managed to repel him.

His true identity remained unknown, but to a boy who had barely scratched the surface of swordsmanship, Archer was far too great a burden. Bazett looked at Shirou’s still-youthful face—and saw there was no need for worry.

The boy’s resolve was already set. According to what she’d heard from Lancer, he was in love with Saber. She could feel the courage and determination born from the will to save the one he loved.

"—I’m counting on you, Emiya Shirou. I will take Saber back, no matter what."

Bazett spoke as she pulled on a pair of special gloves.

"…Yeah. Please. No matter what happens, I won’t let Archer get in your way. So—"
"Leave it to me, Shirou. Caster’s nothing to me. I’ll wrap this up fast."

The one who answered Shirou was Lancer.

For the past week, he’d been devoted to reconnaissance. Waiting for the battlefield he craved, biding his time, all while keeping watch over Shirou and the others.

Watching them during that time had never bored him. Both sides were willing to risk everything to protect the other—it was a refreshing bond to witness.

Whatever his Master’s intentions, right now he was this boy’s comrade. If so, he would answer that trust with everything he had.

That was the decision of a great hero who, in his prime, could drink with yesterday’s enemy and take the head of yesterday’s ally without hesitation—yet never knew defeat.

"—Now then, are you ready?"

Mount Enzou came into view in the distance—then light and sound exploded.

A shrill clash of metal rang out. On the stone steps leading up to Ryuudou Temple, red and black crossed blades.

One wielded twin swords, the other a longsword. Even on the unstable footing of stone steps, both stood as if on solid ground, unwavering.

"…I owe you an apology for underestimating you as a mere archer. No… perhaps there’s something wrong with the system if a swordsman of your caliber is summoned as an Archer-class Servant."

The black-clad sword-wielding Heroic Spirit murmured.

"Unfortunately, I had no talent for the sword. There’s no way I could be summoned as a Saber-class Servant."
"To have no talent and still fight at this level… you are no lacking opponent."

With a mad grin, the black knight unleashed a furious flurry of strikes, which the red Archer met with twin blades like a raging storm.

Overhead, watching them, hovered the magus Heroic Spirit.

"—To think you’d strike first before we made a move… I’ll admit, I underestimated you, Makiri Zouken."

At the foot of the stone steps, in her gaze, stood a withered old man. Chuckling darkly, he gave instructions to the grotesque shadow standing beside him.

The shadow surged forward, rapidly devouring the stone steps.

"Saber!!"

The shadow possessed absolute superiority over Servants. But one could not underestimate the enemy—this mountain, now a temple, was ruled by a witch of the Age of Gods.

Once she had sensed and understood a threat, nothing was beyond her ability to handle.

One of the Three Great Families’ heads. A monster who had lived five hundred years. A man-eating fiend.

No matter what grand title he bore, he was still a modern magus. No matter how skilled in schemes, tactics, or strategy—an ant challenging a lion was not just reckless, it was sheer folly.

From above descended the black-haired knight, riding the wings bestowed by the witch, raising the sword of light.

"—Excalibur!!"

The “strongest phantasm” swept away the encroaching darkness with its radiance.

The blow from Excalibur, backed by Caster’s magic, avoided Archer with precision and bared its fangs at the shadow and the black knight.

Yet Makiri’s Saber still stood on the scorched ground—she had escaped the blast at the last second thanks to the benefits of her Instinct skill and the momentary burst of speed from unleashing her Mana Burst at maximum output.

Such monstrous feats were hers alone. The shadow and Zouken were obliterated without a trace.

Even so, a bitter expression crossed Caster’s face.

"Vermin…"

With open disgust, Caster spat the words out. The ones swallowed by the light had both been fakes. The real bodies were most likely holed up in the Matou mansion. The only genuine one here was Makiri’s Saber.

"Saber!!"

Once again, the shadow manifested—but it too was only a fake. Still, she could not allow it to hinder Archer’s movements, even for an instant.

No matter how much it had been fine-tuned, Saber was still a copy. In a true clash with the original, the difference in quality would be glaring. Against Makiri’s Saber, whose high-ranked Magic Resistance rendered her prided magecraft useless, Caster had only one combatant capable of opposing her—Archer, and that was due to “a certain reason.”

But that stalemate was possible only when Archer was at full strength and bolstered by Caster’s magic. Even the slightest break in balance would decide the fight in an instant.

『…Half-baked coordination will only drag us both down.』

Those were Archer’s own words when Caster had proposed that he and Saber join forces to take down Makiri’s Saber. His reply had been cold.

『—Taking her down is my job. You lot focus on the shadow and Zouken.』

For all that she was a witch of the Age of Gods, her grasp of the finer points of battlefield combat was limited. The best choice was to follow Archer’s judgment. Even if there was personal motive in it, as long as it was sound, she would let it stand.

However—

"If you lose, Archer, I won’t forgive you!!"

Ordinary magecraft would only serve as fuel for the enemy. There was only one way to counter the shadow—strike it with overwhelming destructive power and obliterate it before it had the chance to absorb anything. Simple, but the ultimate solution.

"Saber!!"

The witch drew without hesitation upon the massive reserves of magical energy she had painstakingly amassed within Mount Enzo. The strongest Noble Phantasm fired in rapid succession. Each scar it carved into the earth became a bottomless crater.

The mountain’s base was lined with fields, so there was no risk of civilian casualties. But the searing blaze it unleashed was nothing short of hell made manifest. A rampage that flew in the face of the secrecy of magecraft—yet if it was the best, the only way forward, then so be it.

Watching the battle through his familiar’s eyes, Zouken clicked his tongue. He had not underestimated Caster—on the contrary, he had identified her as the greatest obstacle and the most dangerous threat, which was why he had played his trump card early, sending forth Artoria.

"…To think there’d be a Heroic Spirit capable of crossing swords with Artoria as an equal."

The “absolute advantage” granted by the shadow had been sealed away by Saber’s absurd tactic of repeatedly firing her Noble Phantasm, leaving Artoria isolated.

By rights, she should have been more than enough on her own. Caster, with her high Magic Resistance, was no threat to Artoria, and Zouken had been certain that even combined, an Archer and a fake could be overwhelmed with ease.

What he had underestimated was Archer’s skill. He had never even considered the possibility that an archer could match a fully incarnated King Arthur, fighting with all the might she had in life.

"If all he’d done was fire his Noble Phantasm from a distance, I’d have had a way to handle it…"

The key here lay in positioning. Had Archer been sniping from afar while Saber held the line against Artoria, victory would have been theirs. No fake could defeat the original, and without “Excalibur, the Sword of Promised Victory”—a top-class Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm—the shadow could not have been erased.

If not for the madness of Saber’s repeated Excalibur blasts, Archer’s long-range fire would have been swallowed up by the shadow, Saber would have intercepted any counterattacks, and Artoria’s swordsmanship would have crushed the enemy.

"…Archer’s swordsmanship, Caster’s cunning, and Saber’s Noble Phantasm. This is… bad."

A flawless formation, showing no sign of being rattled despite being preempted. Caster had read their forces, their tactics, and their strategy down to the last detail. Truly the worst kind of enemy—a threat that had to be eliminated.

"Even with all the magical energy she’s stored, she can’t keep firing Saber’s Noble Phantasm indefinitely… If Artoria can endure until it stops, victory will be ours. But—"

That Archer could not be underestimated. Even now, without having used any “ace in the hole” as an Archer, he was still fighting Artoria to a standstill.

If his Noble Phantasm were like Saber’s, requiring a momentary opening to unleash, the battle lines would not shift. But if he possessed a trump card that could be activated in the midst of close combat—then the situation could turn in the worst possible way. Judging from the sheer refinement of his swordsmanship, the chances of him having “that kind” of trump card were extremely high.

"――――And even if he doesn’t possess it himself, there’s still the Caster behind him."

No matter how great her anti-magic resistance may be, no matter if she can nullify all forms of magecraft, the enemy is a magus from the Age of Gods—a witch whose power far surpasses the understanding of modern magi. And she now has in her grasp a Saber who is her equal.

Judging from the changes in Saber’s wings and demeanor, it’s highly likely that Caster possesses some countermeasure against Saber’s anti-magic resistance. Now, with Archer restraining her movements, if that woman’s magecraft were to bare its fangs at Artoria――――

"This is… bad. Extremely bad. At this rate, we could very well lose Artoria…"

Should he make use of the Servants absorbed into the Grail…?

"No… Impossible. Unless it’s the original body, I can’t perform a resummoning."

Reusing a Servant already absorbed by the Grail would require a massive expenditure of the Shadow’s resources.

What’s more, he had already been convinced that a preemptive strike combined with a coordinated assault between Artoria and the Shadow would guarantee victory. For those two reasons, he had intentionally avoided using the tactic of resummoning a Servant. That decision had backfired completely.

"――――No, even before that, faced with continuous activation of that Saber’s Noble Phantasm…"

If such wave-like attacks were unleashed in succession, not even the finest Servant would stand a chance.

"…Yes. If they abandon Archer, that’s the end of it. To begin with, Archer is nothing more than a disposable pawn to Caster…"

If Saber were to target both Archer and Artoria with Excalibur, there would be no avoiding it this time.

The current situation existed only because Caster had yet to abandon Archer. Most likely, this was a safety measure in preparation for the upcoming battle against Lancer.

"As long as Saber is there, the chances of them keeping Archer around unnecessarily are low."

His hesitation lasted less than a minute, but in a battlefield that shifted by the second, such hesitation could prove fatal.

The only reason Artoria was still standing was because this hesitation was not his alone. Caster too, perhaps, was experiencing her own hesitation—thus creating a pause for thought.

But time was running out.

"――――This is…!"

What spurred his decision was the sight, through his familiar’s vision, of a new force appearing on the field.

Zouken’s lips curved into an unconscious grin.

"Fools… walking straight into my view with those idiotic faces!"

No doubt their plan was to defeat Caster and reclaim their Servant.

It was the perfect opportunity. As long as Caster was taken out, it didn’t matter whose Servant was returned to whom.

The greatest gain this time had been obtaining intel on Archer’s skills—that alone was already more than enough.

"――――The worst-case scenario would be if they joined forces with Caster’s camp… but that’s unlikely."

From Sakura’s reports and the familiar’s surveillance, he had a fair grasp of the depth of Emiya Shirou’s feelings toward Saber.

Even if his mentality was somewhat abnormal, the resentment of having the woman he loved stolen from him would not fade so easily.

Caster’s blunder had been forcibly taking Saber from that boy—not through negotiation for a temporary transfer, but through outright seizure by force. That alone had erased any possibility of reconciliation between them.

Zouken raised the Command Seal he had acquired when summoning Hassan-i-Sabbah into the body of Sasaki Kojirō.

Command Seals were what bound Servants. Even if Artoria had taken on flesh, she still retained the qualities of a Servant—hence the Grail’s corruption.

Though it was only a single mark, made to bind her to the temple gate serving as her vessel, it was undeniably carved into Zouken’s arm.

"By my Command Seal—I order you! Artoria, retreat at once with all your strength!!"

A surge of immense magical energy roared to life. The order reached Artoria, who was fighting far away, and her body vanished.

Without a moment’s delay, the forced transfer activated, bringing her directly before Zouken’s eyes.

Zouken laughed.

Even if the worst-case scenario came to pass and Caster’s camp allied with Lancer’s camp, he had already acquired enough information to devise countermeasures.

"Well… it’s unlikely to come to that, though."

The path to victory was clear. But if possible, he had no desire to shoulder the hard work himself.

Thus, from the depths of his heart, Zouken cheered on the young group.

Gazing at them through his familiar with a look of benevolence, he murmured,

"…Now then, I leave the rest to you, little brats. Dance to your hearts’ content… for my sake."