Chapter Ninety-One: I Am Already Invincible!

“To think there truly exists such terrifying compatibility that melts away instantly upon contact—I wonder if I’ll ever encounter a contracted spirit like that.” Walking along the street, Roland pondered the scene from earlier. Without the Key of All Spirits, even if compatibility was ideal, those possessed by contracted spirits would inevitably suffer contamination from their knowledge, causing a distortion in their personality.

For example, influences and manifestations—these always linger on those who are possessed. Even if one perfectly meets the requirements for assimilation, this fate cannot be avoided.

But truthfully, Roland felt that for Kotomine Kirei, it made little difference; either way, he was destined to remain within the realm of the twisted.

“Four servants—Berserker has already been dealt with. Three spots remain. If things go smoothly, the outcome will be decided in the next couple of days. Don’t let me down, Darnic.”

—

“Rider! Stop playing around, hurry up, we might be facing a major battle next!”

In the spacious suite, Waver burst through the door, rushing toward the king seated in front of the television, absorbed in a strategy game.

Iskandar didn’t even lift his head, keeping his eyes fixed intently on the screen.

“What’s happened? Has my master devised another brilliant plan? If so, kid, you might as well stop fretting and play a couple rounds with me.”

Iskandar’s tone carried a hint of annoyance, expressing his feelings directly as always. Since the last argument with Kenneth, the two had parted on bad terms.

Afterward, Waver had to act as a go-between, smoothing things over between master and servant, which allowed Kenneth to accept that Rider would decide when to attack, while he focused on dealing with other masters. Seeing his master’s willingness to compromise, Iskandar didn’t press further, though everyday conversations with Kenneth inevitably remained frosty.

“I don’t have time to play games with you! This time, another master has sent a familiar, issuing a formal declaration of war.”

Waver, long accustomed to the Conqueror King’s gaming obsession, quickly got to the point.

“Oh?”

Upon hearing this, Rider paused, set the controller aside, and stroked his chin.

“It seems the king has been seen as an easy target.”

Kenneth’s workshop was certainly conspicuous, but so were the Three Families. After witnessing the strength of several servants, choosing to challenge Rider was a clear sign of underestimation.

“Maybe it’s because Professor Kenneth’s workshop is too formidable—even a servant couldn’t hope to score a quick victory.”

Waver remarked. After the previous incident, Kenneth, though pale and trembling with rage, agreed with Waver’s suggestion to extend the workshop’s barrier across the entire building. This reduced the barrier’s strength but greatly improved their safety.

“Do you know who issued the declaration?”

Iskandar furrowed his brow, asking with confusion.

When Waver mentioned the name, he became hesitant.

“It’s Darnic, Lancer’s master.”

Kenneth entered calmly, his voice ice-cold, so even Waver could sense the chill that swept through his words.

“That shameless fellow, he actually thinks Kenneth is the first to be eliminated? He just drew a lucky card, nothing more.”

Kenneth snorted, paying no heed to his servant standing nearby.

“Well, it’s Enkidu, after all! Hahaha!”

Iskandar, having grown used to Kenneth’s occasional tactless remarks, wasn’t particularly offended. Instead, he said with interest, “In this Holy Grail War, probably only the Golden King can rival him.”

“If that’s the case, there’s no need to worry about the gap between masters. Just focus on choosing excellent relics.”

Kenneth waved dismissively. “Darnic wants the servants to fight each other at a distance, while he and I duel one-on-one as masters.”

“I feel there’s a trap… His servant has the advantage, yet he’s giving it up to have the masters duel alone—it’s too unnatural.”

Waver mused. In these days together, he had come to realize his teacher was a true genius—rarely losing in a magus’s battle.

“I’ve already agreed.”

Kenneth’s words were shocking.

—

“What? Professor Kenneth, why would you do that?” Waver was dumbfounded.

“Because it’s an opportunity. Rider, if you can hold off Lancer, I’m confident I can quickly take care of Darnic. That way, we turn a disadvantage into an advantage and snatch victory from defeat.”

Kenneth explained calmly.

“And what about the risks?” Iskandar nodded, uncharacteristically agreeing rather than arguing.

He turned to Waver, who seemed insignificant between them.

“Kid, I want to hear your opinion.”

“But I’m not the master…”

Usually, when not expected to speak, Waver could quickly grasp the situation’s nuances. But when given real decision-making power, he shrank back.

“I’d like your opinion too, Waver,” Kenneth’s gaze swept over him, “Unlike the talentless person I imagined, you seem not entirely worthless.”

Previously, such an evaluation would have made Waver jump up in anger, but now he understood: this was Kenneth’s own way of offering praise.

So he merely raised his head, meeting Kenneth’s gaze with unwavering determination.

“The trap lies in this: if we want to fight Darnic while Lancer and Rider duel, we must leave this fortress-like workshop. No magus would be foolish enough to duel one-on-one in the enemy’s workshop, especially since Professor Kenneth is from the El-Melloi lord family.”

“Correct, Waver,” Kenneth nodded, satisfaction in his eyes. “Rather than blowing up the place—a crude, dangerous approach—a truly cunning magus uses honest strategy to force you out of your own workshop.”

“That man is called the Eight-Tongued Serpent; he would certainly think of this. So there could be a trap in this battle. The question is whether we have the courage to face it. And whether you possess such courage is the first lesson I want to teach you.”

Will you join this dangerous battle?

Kenneth implied as much in his words. Under his gaze, Waver instinctively wanted to step back.

He had witnessed the servants’ battles firsthand, seen the resolve required to survive these brutal fights. Even under Kenneth’s protection, could he really avoid dragging his teacher down?

Compared to these magi, prepared and resolute, his own readiness and determination were negligible. Though he was initially proud to have patched Kenneth’s weaknesses with his advice, Waver was now shedding his naivety, accepting his own insignificance.

He might never get another chance like this. Perhaps this Holy Grail War would be the turning point in his destiny.

Waver no longer hesitated and voiced his decision.

“Professor Kenneth, I want to go with you!”

“Hmph,” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, his spirits lifted. “You finally look a bit like a true El-Melloi student.”

Though, as always, his words were disdainful.

“Darnic, no matter how outstanding, can’t change the fact that his generation only recently entered the ranks of elite magi. Once both of us are away from our workshops, no matter how highly he’s regarded, he’s merely a third-rate magus using fourth-rate magic—he can never defeat me.”

Kenneth’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the Moon Spirit Elixir, fully prepared on the table, and smiled.

Against servants, Kenneth had no confidence. But if it was magus versus magus, the situation was entirely different.

“The rhythm of this Holy Grail War is finally back in my hands. Now, I am invincible!”

“Oh—!”

Iskandar, too, clenched his fist in rare excitement and cheered.

—

By dusk, thanks to the city’s early curfew due to recent gas explosions, Fuyuki was unusually silent before sunset.

Iskandar alone drove his divine chariot, gliding toward the mountains dozens of kilometers from Fuyuki’s national highway—this was Lancer’s chosen battleground.

He’d considered whether this was a ploy to lure him away, but Rider didn’t believe his mobility could be underestimated.

As expected, in the secluded mountains, Lancer—shrouded in a profound aura—quietly stroked the trees beside him. Clad in white, his otherworldly beauty shone brilliantly in the evening light.

Enkidu looked up, smiling helplessly at Rider’s thunderous arrival.

—

“So you’ve come, Rider. When my master said you’d abandon your base and strike out, I thought it was a joke.”

“If you mean to intimidate this king, Lancer, you’ve chosen the wrong target.”

Lancer sighed with his usual pitying expression. “No, I only lament the fate your master is about to face. If you’d stayed in your workshop, perhaps my master would have waited. But by stepping into this trap, you’re walking into your own demise.”

Perhaps it was the genuine emotion in Enkidu’s words, but Iskandar felt a twinge of unease.

“Are you disparaging my courage? Or are you underestimating my master?”

“I’m merely stating a fact. Your master will die at my master’s hands. I’d hoped that day would make him lay low, but instead, he’s become even bolder.”

Lancer spoke with sorrow: “You may not believe me, but I do not wish for such an outcome. Unfortunately, it’s already irreversible.”

“Who says so? I may not understand your words, but in short, if I defeat you quickly here, it’ll be settled!”

“Yes, but regrettably, my master ordered me to stop you. So, that won’t happen.”

“You never know…”

Rider shrugged, letting the scorching wind swirl through the winter mountains.

The arid landscape, dazzling sunlight, and parched desert replaced the surroundings. Like a mirage, Iskandar’s vast army assembled once more beneath his sword.

“Lancer, you may think my words are mere boasts, but after witnessing the eternal landscape in my heart, can you still maintain such confidence?”

The crimson cloak behind Iskandar billowed with the fierce wind, like the boldest battle flag.

“My goal is the world’s end, to glimpse the endless sea—this is the shared wish of comrades united under a single dream. Lancer, you will be the first step of Iskandar’s conquest!”

With a roar, Iskandar’s army responded, joining the thunderous chorus.

“Yes! Yes!”

Among his troops, the mighty stallion—Iskandar’s childhood ace, Bucephalus—snorted, coming to his side.

“This is my strongest Noble Phantasm, the power of the King’s Army!”

“Ah, such a stirring spectacle.”

Lancer gazed upon the boundless world, not with fear, but with nostalgia.

“Different hearts advancing toward a single goal, gathering under one banner—humanity is truly fascinating.”

He crouched, stroking the lifeless desert, smiling sincerely.

“Rider, whether or not it’s your intention, I must thank you. Here, no unnecessary lives will suffer by my hand. So, in return…”

For a king to speak so earnestly of ambition and dreams, and create such a fitting stage—it demanded a response.

Enkidu thought so. In the next moment, in the lifeless desert, tiny flowers miraculously broke through the earth, budding with promise.

“Now, I’ll fight at full power too, Rider.”

In answer to his call, the planet sang.

Centered on Lancer, invisible ripples spread from his feet, a surge of magical energy connecting heaven and earth, man and god.

Enkidu spread his arms, smiling joyfully, declaring the return of miracles.

“O world, bind the gods! (Enuma Elish)”

In an instant, the buds burst into bloom. Vast magical energy transformed into a spear capable of piercing the world, turning the scorching desert into dazzling white—shooting skyward!

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(End of chapter)