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In the forest surrounding the Einzbern Castle.
Diarmuid Ua Duibhne and Lancelot sat together on a large tree branch, their figures bathed in moonlight.
The two knights, their lives and legends sharing striking similarities, spoke in hushed tones.
"Rider has extended an invitation. It seems my King has accepted. I wish to hear her thoughts on the Grail—and then fulfill my wish to die by her hand." A rare smile touched Lancelot's lips.
Diarmuid, seeing Lancelot's smile, a stark contrast to his usual somber expression—felt a pang of envy. "You're fortunate. The Grail War has brought you both together. Perhaps you can finally resolve your misunderstandings.
A look of peace settled on Lancelot's face.
Then, his voice turned serious. "Before that, Diarmuid, let us join forces and rescue your Master."
In just two days, the noble knight had grown weary of Kiritsugu Emiya's underhanded tactics.
Betraying his temporary Master held no moral weight for him.
After all, his true king was within the castle walls. And he knew, with unwavering certainty, that she would approve of his actions.
Diarmuid's expression shifted, a flicker of temptation in his eyes. But the thought of the explosives strapped to Kayneth's body quickly extinguished that spark. "I cannot risk my Master's life."
Then, both knights' faces paled as they received a command from Kiritsugu—to stand down, to await further instructions.
But Rider had issued a challenge any Servant who considered themselves a hero was to meet at the banquet.
And they, as Servants, as Heroic Spirits, had little left but their honor and their legends.
"He would deny us even that? Our honor as heroes?" Lancelot's voice was cold, his eyes narrowed.
For a knight of his caliber, even towards a temporary Master, killing intent was a rare thing. But Kiritsugu Emiya—that man had managed to evoke a deep, burning hatred within him.
"I must obey my Master's command, for his safety. It seems you will be attending the banquet alone," Diarmuid said, his voice laced with a hint of shame.
Kiritsugu's intentions were clear. He wanted them to infiltrate the banquet, to wait for an opportunity to strike—a coward's tactic.
And while Lancelot, his connection to the Grail weakened by his corporeal form, could disobey Kiritsugu's command, Diarmuid, bound by his loyalty to Kayneth, could not.
"I will stay with you. After all, my legend... it's not exactly spotless. A few more blemishes won't matter," Lancelot said with a sigh.
Despite his words, his love for Guinevere, a pure, platonic love, was a tale celebrated throughout the ages.
It was this very love, this unwavering devotion, that had elevated him to the status of a Heroic Spirit, not a vengeful wraith.
"Thank you," Diarmuid said, his voice filled with gratitude.
He knew Lancelot was trying to protect him, to prevent him from succumbing to despair, from becoming a vengeful spirit. A Servant's negative emotions, unchecked, could corrupt them, twisting them into something—less than heroic.
Under the pale moonlight, the two knights looked towards the castle, their faces etched with a quiet resignation.
....
....
"Only four, then?" Rider sighed, lamenting the heroes who had abandoned their honor.
"Actually there are five of us." A young, almost childlike, voice echoed through the courtyard.
All eyes turned towards the source of the sound.
A figure sat in one of the empty chairs.
A young girl, no older than eleven or twelve, with deep purple, shoulder-length hair, her amethyst eyes vacant and emotionless, dressed in a black camisole that revealed a surprising amount of skin for her age.
Rider, looking at the girl, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I sense the aura of a Servant—but who are you? All seven Servants should have been summoned already."
The girl raised her right hand, covering half of her face as a white light coalesced, forming a skull mask.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hassan-i Sabbah, the nineteenth leader of the Hashshashin."
"Wh-what?!" Waver stared at her, his eyes wide with disbelief, as if he'd seen a ghost.
"But you're dead! She killed you!" He pointed at Gilgamesh.
"A mere illusion, nothing more," Hassan replied with a smirk, and behind her, another Hassan, cloaked in black, a skull mask covering its face, materialized.
Waver gulped, staring at the dozen or so Hassans now surrounding them. "Have we been watched—this whole time…?"
The thought that they'd been under constant surveillance by an Assassin, their lives in the balance—it was a chilling realization.
But no one responded to his question.
He looked around the table. Except for Rider, who still seemed a bit surprised, the others' faces were calm, their expressions unreadable.
"What's going on? Why aren't you reacting?" he asked, his voice filled with confusion.
"Everyone here knows about Hassan-i Sabbah. Except for us, it seems," Rider sighed.
It was fortunate he'd kept Waver close. Otherwise, the boy would probably be floating in a sewer somewhere by now.
Waver, understanding, his face paled. "So, the attack on the Tohsaka mansion—it was a show? They were hiding Hassan, using him to assassinate the other Masters? Tokiomi and Kirei—they've been working together all along?"
"Why are you here? I didn't give Kirei permission to act," Haru said, his eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on the loli Assassin.
"Forgive me, Your Holiness. I seek the Grail," Hassan replied, bowing her head respectfully. Having been with Kirei, she knew of Haru's—Divine status.
To Hassan, the Grail was a holy relic, imbued with Haru's essence. And Rider, challenging Haru's claim to the Grail—to not participate in the banquet, to not challenge Rider, would be to deny her chance to obtain the Grail's power. She couldn't resist.
Gilgamesh, watching Hassan, a subtle smile playing on her lips, she had seen through Kirei's twisted desires, his thirst for the suffering of others. His betrayal of Tokiomi hadn't surprised her.
But Hassan's betrayal—that was unexpected. The Assassin, usually so blindly loyal, now openly defying her Master, seeking the Grail for herself—it was—intriguing.
Waver stared at Haru, his brow furrowed in confusion. 'Weren't Tokiomi and Kirei allies? Why was Haru acting like—he was in charge?'
"Hahaha! As expected of the Holy Grail War! Intrigue at every turn!" Rider's booming laughter filled the courtyard.
He raised his goblet. "Now that everyone's here, let the feast begin!"
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