Chapter Nineteen: Kirei Kotomine Lost in the Wrong Scene

On the other side of the Far East, Roland was still unaware that an unusual pair had officially formed a partnership at the Clock Tower.

Perhaps because he had resolved quite a few troubles recently, Roland had been enjoying a period of remarkable peace. Apart from his routine meetings with Kirei Kotomine, his days were devoid of any troubling matters. Under such circumstances, with the help of his cherished hand model, he managed to maintain a delicate balance between his obsession and a peaceful life.

“Fuyuki City, what a beautiful place,” he mused.

Lounging beneath a tree that jutted out from Central Park, Roland placed the hand model in his lap, treating it like an odd piece of tableware as he nibbled on his sandwich.

A thin layer of yellow mustard was spread on the toasted bread, crispy bacon topped with eggs scrambled in butter, another layer of bacon above the eggs, and not a single leaf of greens—this was a sandwich Roland indulged in only when the weather was particularly fine.

Kira Yoshikage’s familiar was being steadily digested too. At this rate, by the end of the Holy Grail War, its influence would vanish completely. The location of that other familiar, whose effects remained unknown, was also gradually coming into focus. If he used Killer Queen’s deadly first strike with the aim of seizing the familiar instead of the Grail, the pressure would be much less.

Moreover, if things ever became truly dire, Roland still had his trump card.

The third bomb—Bites the Dust—was a spell capable of reversing time, a small-scale version of the Spring and Autumn Cicada. As long as he didn't grow reckless, it was enough to salvage even the bleakest defeat.

Though, truth be told, Roland wasn’t particularly fond of this ability; its activation conditions were far too troublesome.

“Well, never mind, there’s no need to overthink it. It’s not as if I’m some kind of champion of justice…”

Basking in the rare warmth of a winter sun, Roland savored the comfort of the moment. But uninvited guests have a way of appearing when least expected.

“Roland, I must say, I am deeply disappointed.”

Bent and hunched, the old man appeared on the other side of the tree at some unknown moment, his voice raspy.

“Hm?” Roland glanced up from his sandwich. “This is delicious, you know. I made it myself. If I sold it outside, it would definitely become the shop’s signature dish.”

Who asked you about that?

Zouken Matou fumed inwardly, his malevolent gaze almost frozen in its intensity.

“Ah?” Roland shook his head, troubled. “Even if you look at me like that, there’s nothing I can do. I only made one, so I can’t share. If you really want some, I’ll give you the recipe later.”

“Enough!” Zouken thumped his cane against the ground, his face a mask of regret. Every time he interacted with Roland, things always felt off.

Despite the looming dangers of the Holy Grail War, this fellow behaved as though he were a spectator, carrying with him an air of alien indifference.

“I’m here to ask about the Holy Grail War! This peaceful spell is but the last calm before the coming storm. The other Masters are nearly done gathering their relics, and the time to summon Servants is almost upon us—yet you remain as languid as ever.”

“Does it really matter? Your goal isn't the Grail, is it? Nor is mine. Finding some amusement amid the peace—surely that’s the true meaning of the Holy Grail War.”

Roland’s attitude was neither warm nor cold.

“Heh heh,” Zouken could not help but laugh at Roland’s perverse sense of humor. “Though I greatly dislike your demeanor, we are indeed kindred spirits.”

“How so?” Roland put away his sandwich, sealing the bag for later consumption. The old man’s putrid scent was starting to affect his appetite.

“In pursuit of a goal, we’re always distracted by other things, aren’t we?” Zouken said softly. “Sacrificing unnecessary emotions for the sake of the primary objective is certainly more rational. Yet, in my long life, I’ve realized that compared to distant goals, the pleasure found in the scenery along the way may be greater.”

“To ordinary magi, we are monsters—impossible to get along with, more so than any logic-guided mage,” he added, glancing at Roland’s hand model and the look of intoxication that had crossed his face earlier.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Roland sighed. “So, what brings you here today?”

“To check on your progress, and to prepare for the assistance I’ll be providing. At the very least, you should have decided which Servant class you wish to summon. Otherwise, how am I to procure the proper relic for you?”

Though he hadn’t given it much thought in recent days, Roland had long since made up his mind.

“Caster. Prepare a relic suitable for that class.”

“You’re sure? That’s one of the weakest classes.”

“Weak or strong—it depends on whom you compare them to. No one in the Grail War seriously believes in the concept of king versus king, general versus general.”

After witnessing so many Grail Wars, Roland wouldn’t claim to have mastered the game, but from an ordinary person’s perspective, Caster was an excellent choice.

Most importantly, unless they were mere stand-ins, true Casters tended to possess abilities verging on the supernatural. Compared to the dwindling mysteries of the modern world, their knowledge and power could truly reshape reality.

Whether for crafting items or serving as a teacher, Casters offered tangible advantages—far more appealing than the ephemeral Holy Grail.

“I knew I wasn’t mistaken about you,” Zouken said, clearly pleased. “Ordinary Masters are no match for a Caster. In this regard, they even surpass Assassins.”

No one understands magi like magi themselves.

“Coincidentally, I have an excellent relic for summoning a Caster. I’ll hand it over to you soon,” said Zouken.

“More importantly, I’m concerned about another matter,” Roland replied. “Have you prepared a means of supplying mana? Part of my reason for choosing Caster was her lower mana demands. As an ordinary person leading the contract, can you really alter the mana provider so easily?”

“Ordinarily, of course not. The contract is granted directly by the Grail. But do you know who I am? It was the Matou family who altered the system, bestowing the Command Seals, that absolute authority over Servants.”

Zouken’s pride was unmistakable; his words were meant to reassure Roland.

“I assure you, neither my predecessors nor descendants will ever surpass my understanding of the Command Seals. Tomorrow, I’ll deliver the item to you.”

As he spoke, a strange smile played at Zouken’s lips, as if he’d just recalled something amusing. He glanced at the hand model in Roland’s grasp.

“I promise, you’ll be quite satisfied. Just restrain yourself—don’t ruin it before the war is over.”

“What do you mean by that?” Roland asked, puzzled, but Zouken offered no further explanation, taking his leave.

After brushing off Zouken, Roland returned to his routine. That night, the familiar figure appeared once again in the shop.

“Four mapo tofu bento boxes. Could you ring me up?”

“Of course.” Roland deftly packed up the orders and began the transaction. Since their last meeting, Kirei Kotomine had visited the shop every evening without fail, buying up every discounted mapo tofu bento—almost becoming a local urban legend.

“You really do enjoy mapo tofu, Kotomine. Here you are.”

As Roland handed over the bag, the troubled priest didn’t leave as usual. Instead, uncertainty flickered across his face.

“Is there something else, Kotomine?” Roland asked, a bit confused. For several days, he’d hidden his hand inside a glove under the pretense of working the register. Kirei had never paid it any mind, so his identity as a Master shouldn’t have been exposed.

Even now, Kirei hadn’t looked at his hand. But just in case, Roland prepared to summon Killer Queen at a moment’s notice.

“Roland…”

Kirei took a deep breath, then, clutching the cross at his chest, looked gravely at Roland.

“What… is the meaning of life?”

What?

Did you wander into the wrong story? Is this really a priest’s line? You’re not a voice actor!

Roland subtly shifted his posture, instinctively edging further away from Kirei.