This Is My Holy Grail War [211]

The morning air was crisp and chill. Rain still clung to the sides of the street, and overhead, clouds were gathering again. For most of the day, this little town remained soaked in rain. It wasn’t lively to begin with, and the weather made it even more desolate and lifeless—especially in the mornings.

Inside the Chinese restaurant where Assassin was stationed, the only customers were a few elderly Chinese regulars seated at a table in the back. No other faces could be seen.

One storm passed, and another was on its way. This city, caught in a perpetual “rainy season,” endured suffering after suffering. Last night was just the beginning. Tonight, it would continue.

Assassin could tell that this restaurant hadn’t been open for very long, but it wasn’t brand new either. A few regulars frequented it, though much of the equipment was still shiny and unused. Thanks to the Holy Grail, the city had experienced rapid development—magus activity in the shadows had become a hidden engine of economic growth. And yet, what the Holy Grail gave, it also took away. Though Assassin couldn’t predict the future, the Holy Grail Wars of Fuyuki had only ever brought calamity.

The restaurant was deliberately divided into nine sections. Assassin sat in the innermost private room, watching everything through the eyes of her familiars.

Truthfully, it wasn’t an ideal place for a workshop. The mana supply was poor, and the location was far too bustling—not that it was particularly crowded, but there were always pedestrians passing by.

The leyline distribution across this peninsula was extreme: very few nodes inland, while the islands to the east had a couple of decent veins. So why set up a workshop here? There was only one reason—terrain. Or rather, feng shui. The building had been designed strictly in accordance with the Bagua and the Nine Palaces. Maybe the restaurant’s owner just liked a classical aesthetic. But for Marco, it had been the perfect opportunity to construct a temple.

Assassin didn’t think much of such a haphazardly pieced-together workshop, but she had contributed to its defenses regardless. Wisps of violet mist occasionally drifted through the room—she had hidden a great number of Dragon Tooth Warriors here.

The Lesser Grail sat uneasily beside her, a bowl of old-fashioned soup noodles in front of her. On a cold morning, a steaming bowl of noodles was a rare comfort. Assassin, however, had forgotten one thing: the child didn’t know how to use chopsticks… Still, she was doing her best to learn, fumbling clumsily and sweating from the effort. At last, she managed to lift a bite—and her first instinct was to share it with Assassin. She harbored a different kind of feeling toward Assassin—a deep, unwavering dependence.

“You were reckless last night.” The voice drew her attention. Turning her head, she saw her Master Marco’s displeased face. “Why didn’t you ask me first?!”

“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Saber was there too,” Assassin shrugged, her violet lips parting. “I laid a trap on a whim, and Archer walked right into it. Still the same as ever—though this time, he seemed a bit more composed.” Her face, hidden beneath her hood, remained unreadable. Only a sly smile emerged from the shadows.

“Is that so?” Marco didn’t press further. Instead, he nodded. “To strengthen a Servant’s capabilities, the Evil of This World was allowed to pollute your body. I worry that you might lose your sanity.” Oddly, he wasn’t concerned about her acting without orders. “I protested. But the Einzbern family was too fixated.”

“You think differently than most magi,” Assassin said, mildly surprised. She’d had enough of self-important magi. “The arrogant ones always think they can control their Servants—without realizing they’re playing with fire.”

“Then they deserve what’s coming.” Despite the insult to his own kind, Marco didn’t refute her. Instead, he spat the words with vehemence. “Servants are legendary heroes. How the hell could a modern magus match their combat prowess? Do what you must—I support you.” He wasn’t a bad person. Assassin could feel his sincerity.

“You really don’t think much of magi, do you?”

“You’re right. I’m a wanted man, after all.” He said it like a joke, completely unfazed.

“What crime did you commit?” Assassin asked, curious.

“The crime of saving lives,” Marco replied.

You can be wanted for saving people? Assassin couldn’t help but think of the red-haired girl in the church. It must’ve been because of her.

“Is your bounty high?” she asked. “Enough to make a magus risk their life just to come after you?”

“Probably not,” Marco replied thoughtfully. “Competent magi wouldn’t take that risk. Incompetent ones would just be throwing their lives away.”

“Then why act so conspicuously?” Assassin asked, puzzled. “You’ve got two Servants’ worth of combat power here, but why not stay hidden? Building a workshop in this spot is like lighting a beacon in the dark—it’s impossible to conceal. And you’ve basically announced the Einzbern family’s involvement. Why?”

“No one knows I’m your Master. For now, they’re just watching,” Marco explained. “Besides… my presence will probably draw out a certain someone.” As he spoke, a sudden crash split the air—a brawny, muscle-bound brute in a chariot crashed straight through the private room’s window. He hadn’t used the door. The thunder-wreathed chariot tore right through the building’s first layer of magical defenses.

Just as Marco had predicted, his presence had attracted someone. It was as if all of this had been part of his plan from the start. In that moment, Assassin seemed to understand something. Her concealment was formidable—but this world did not know nothing about her.

“Lurking like a rat in the rain last night… that’s not like you at all, Rider—Iskandar.”

Assassin spoke calmly, revealing Rider’s true name the moment they met. She had been observing the battlefield too and knew he had been watching from the shadows.

She was acutely aware of what her exposure meant. So Waver is participating in this Holy Grail War too? Her brow furrowed. And he summoned Rider again. If the relic used to summon her had been the right one, then the half-torn cloak must have given her away.

Is Marco trying to eliminate a powerful rival right here and now? Assassin was still speculating.

“Oh? You know this King?” the musclebound man stood boldly in the center of the room, striking a pose. Thankfully, since he hadn’t entered through the front, there wasn’t any panic.

“Why are you here to see me?” Assassin asked.

“Teacher’s orders,” Rider’s Master piped up, suddenly appearing from the chariot like a well-behaved student called on in class, hand raised.

“Who’s your teacher?” Assassin had never seen this boy before.

“Lord El-Melloi II!” the boy declared proudly, puffing out his chest.

—

This is a fan translation of 这是我的圣杯之战 by 向希望祈祷. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!