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The Lesser Grail, now pulsing with an intense white light, the souls of two powerful Heroic Spirits contained within, began to tremble, cracks appearing on its surface.
Even though it was a creation of the Third Magic, holding the full essence of two Servants was proving too much for the fragile vessel.
"Boost! Boost! Boost!" Haru, as a precaution, amplified the Grail's durability, his magical energy flowing into it. Maintaining the amplification would be a constant drain, but it was better than having the Grail shatter, the ritual failing.
He then channeled a surge of negative energy into the Grail, carefully, subtly, annihilating a small fragment of Diarmuid's soul.
He wasn't being greedy; he just wanted to extract the concepts contained within Diarmuid's [Noble Phantasms].
B-rank [Anti-Magic], B-rank [Curse], A+ rank [Armor Penetration], A- rank [Indestructibility].
These were the concepts Haru had acquired.
"Not bad. Unlike that showman Iskandar, whose [Noble Phantasms] were mostly flash, Diarmuid's were based on solid concepts. With these, I have a better understanding of how to deal with concepts,"* he thought, stroking his chin.
In the Fate universe, Mystery was synonymous with concept.
And battles in this world were governed by a simple rule: a Mystery of a lower level could not affect a Mystery of a higher level.
Mysteries, like a Servant's parameters and [Noble Phantasms]—were ranked from E to EX. The higher a Mystery's rank, the greater its power.
Haru, despite being from another world, despite having the Counter Force's approval, despite possessing powers equivalent to Magic—EX-rank—was still limited.
His powers—derived from the rules of a different world, weren't fully recognized by the Root, their effects limited to the physical realm, unable to interact with Mysteries directly.
He could punch through the planet with his bare hands, but against Gáe Dearg or Beagálta, with their A+ rank and ability to bypass defenses, he would still be injured—unless he used the Divine Protection granted by the Counter Force, which elevated him to the level of a god.
But that protection was purely defensive. He was an immovable object, but not an unstoppable force.
To gain access to the hierarchy of Mysteries, he had to connect his powers, his mastery of matter and energy, to the Root. He had to reach the Root.
If not for this world's system of Mysteries, he would have long since conquered it, just as he'd done in the High School DxD world, the Grail War ending in a single night. He wouldn't have been forced into a stalemate with Gilgamesh.
The Sword of Salvation, after all, was a collection of Divine Artifacts, weapons imbued with the power of creation myths, yet he could only use it to unleash blasts of energy, brute-forcing his way through Gilgamesh's Gate of Babylon.
Reaching the Root, mastering the Third Magic, gaining access to the world's Mysteries—that was his priority. And of the remaining Servants, only Lancelot presented a challenge. The others were just ingredients.
He turned to Hassan. "Where is Lancelot now?"
Saber, who'd just returned from defeating Diarmuid, stopped, her eyes fixed on Hassan.
Hassan closed her eyes, using her connection to her clones, scattered throughout Fuyuki City, to locate Lancelot. "He's on the highway outside the Einzbern forest, with Emiya and Hisau Maiya. Wait—my Master, Kirei Kotomine, is approaching their location."
"Oh? A confrontation? Let's observe. This should be entertaining." Remembering the suggestions he'd planted in Kirei's mind, Haru grinned, stopping Saber, who'd been about to greet Lancelot.
——
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Kiritsugu Emiya, a cigarette dangling from his lips, watched the dust cloud rising from the Einzbern Castle through his binoculars, his ears twitching, listening to the faint sounds of explosions.
"Damn it, Maiya. Are the familiars not in position yet?"
Saber and Diarmuid's earlier clash had destroyed the surveillance devices he'd sent, forcing him to deploy more.
Ten minutes without intel—his unease grew. He paused, his ears perking up. "The explosions—they've stopped. Is the battle over?"
Lancelot, who'd returned and remained in his ethereal form, moved towards the jeep, his hand passing through the metal to reach the explosives strapped to Kayneth. He was about to materialize when—
"Kiritsugu, Kayneth's Command Spells are gone," Maiya said urgently.
Lancelot's gaze snapped to Kayneth's hand, where the three crimson marks had faded.
"My friend…"
Kayneth's eyes widened, his vacant expression replaced by one of shock and despair. "That useless dog—He lost?! Even with the advantage of numbers?! Damn it! Why couldn't I have summoned Rider?! That bastard Waver…!"
"If Diarmuid has been defeated, then Kayneth is no longer useful," Kiritsugu said, his voice cold, flicking the ash from his cigarette.
Click.
Maiya's pistol, its safety released, was aimed at Kayneth's temple.
Lancelot's eyes narrowed. At this range, he couldn't guarantee Kayneth's safety. The Magician was completely paralyzed.
He glared at Maiya. He didn't want to kill her. But he had to protect Kayneth.
"Wait!" Kayneth's voice, a desperate cry, stopped them.
"Magical knowledge, artifacts, money—I'll give you anything! Just—spare me! Spare Sola-Ui! I'll swear an oath! I'll even make sure my family doesn't retaliate!" His eyes were closed, his voice trembling, but beneath his eyelids, a flicker of cunning—appeared.
"A tempting offer. But—there's a problem. Your fiancée isn't with me. She jumped from the hotel window last night," Kiritsugu said calmly.
Kayneth's eyes snapped open. Sola-Ui wasn't with him? Then he'd surrendered for nothing. He was a cripple, his life in this man's hands, and Sola-Ui…
His face paled.
Kiritsugu looked at him, his expression unchanged, his finger tightening on the trigger. He was about to speak when a low rumble echoed from the distance.
Vroom…
"A motorcycle? At this hour?" Kiritsugu frowned.
In this country, the only people riding motorcycles in the middle of the night were street racers or bikers.
"Maiya, prepare for a fight." Despite his assumption, he wasn't taking any chances.
A motorcycle, its rider's face hidden by a helmet, approached, its headlight cutting through the darkness. It screeched to a halt thirty meters from the jeep.
Kiritsugu leveled his machine gun at the rider.
"Kiritsugu Emiya!" The rider, ignoring the weapon, removed the helmet, his eyes fixed on Kiritsugu.
"Kirei Kotomine," Kiritsugu's face hardened.
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