By the artificial lake in the garden, an epic battle raged on.
Inside the Throne Room, Semiramis was sulking.
She wasn't angry at Shinji, who was fiercely battling Shirou. Having witnessed Shirou's many wonders, she had full confidence in her Master.
Nor was she angry at the five heroes who were evenly matched with Bašmu and Hydra. These guys were just minor annoyances. Even if they managed to kill the two beasts, she could summon two more. As long as she was within the Throne Room and the mana from the Greater Grail hadn't been cut off, she could continuously summon poison-related monsters.
When Achilles appeared to provide support, she was already considering what to summon next—should it be Basilisk, a mythical creature born from ancient European lore? Or the venomous scorpion, the servant beast of the Egyptian goddess Serqet?
However, before she could decide, an alarm sounded in the Throne Room. It signaled that enemies had invaded the core palace complex of the garden, meaning she could no longer focus on the external battlefield and had to concentrate on the increasingly close invaders.
Relying on her absolute control over the garden, Her Majesty the Empress quickly identified the intruders. They were three women—one tall and two short, with almost identical faces: the Ruler Jeanne d'Arc, the King of Knights Artoria, and the rebellious knight Mordred.
After nearly falling into Semiramis' trap with a stratagem of self-injury, the three formidable women swiftly killed Assassin of the Shadows Yan Qing and Caster of the Shadows Paracelsus, then headed directly toward the garden's core.
This strategy was both Chiron's suggestion and Jeanne's judgment. When Chiron proposed using the Command Seal to Jeanne, they had already planned for one group to hold off the enemy outside while the other struck at the heart.
Letting Semiramis continue was too dangerous. No one knew if she would summon a third or fourth such terrifying beast. They needed to eliminate the source, and Jeanne's group, with their strong magic resistance abilities, was the best choice for this task.
Semiramis saw through their plan, which made her so angry. She bit her thumb tightly, looking as if she intended to bite through her nail.
"Damn Ruler, damn Black Lancer, and that damned rebel. But this combination is indeed very troublesome, especially the Ruler's Noble Phantasm... If it truly embodies the concept of protection, it would undoubtedly be the nemesis of my poison. There's no choice, even though I'm reluctant, I have to rely on that guy. I hope he wasn't boasting, otherwise, I'll rip out his tongue even if it means abandoning the garden!!!"
Using the garden's privileges, the Empress projected herself directly into Shakespeare's study.
At this moment, Shakespeare was wholeheartedly engrossed in his writing, his sparkling eyes seeing nothing but the words before him.
Helplessly, the Empress first coughed to announce her presence.
Shakespeare glanced up at her, then buried his head back in his writing.
Semiramis, resigned, and had to speak up.
"Caster!"
Only then did the great playwright awaken from his trance, removing his hands from the keyboard, and performing an exaggerated courtly bow as usual.
"Ah, Your Majesty the Empress, what a rare guest indeed. Coming to find me at such a critical moment, it seems the situation isn't looking good."
"You have such wisdom in warfare?"
The Empress looked at the man she usually treated as a clown with slight surprise, and he shook his head.
"You're too kind. War wisdom and such, I have none. I've just created many works and know a bit about human nature."
"Oh, then you must know why I'm here."
"You want me to use my Noble Phantasm against that lovely yet pitiable saint, right? Has she already broken into the palace?"
Shakespeare crossed his arms and rubbed his chin, his expression peculiarly odd.
"Sometimes I wonder if you truly understand magic."
"I am a writer, completely ignorant of magic. The reason I understand the saint so well is due to some past connections."
"Connections? More like a troublesome relationship."
Semiramis' lips curled. Because of Shirou's particularly indulgent attitude toward Shakespeare, she had taken the time to thoroughly research Shakespeare's background and learned about the dark history between him and Jeanne d'Arc—a history that was truly "dark," as in maliciously defamatory.
In his play Henry VI, Shakespeare depicted Jeanne d'Arc as a wanton woman, openly flirting with the heartless Charles VII. After being captured by the English (actually the Burgundians) and sentenced to be burned at the stake, Jeanne supposedly claimed she was pregnant and named several possible fathers, turning the pure maiden into a tarnished figure.
Although this was a product of the hostile English-French relations at the time, where "the hero of the enemy is the villain to us," it was excessively harsh. Jeanne, with her good temper, didn't hold it against him, but if it had been Semiramis, she would have long turned this blabbering fool into a breeding ground for poisons.
Shakespeare could only shrug helplessly at this: "I don't deny it. Honestly, after meeting the Ruler in person, I do feel somewhat apologetic."
"I warn you, if you dare slack off because of this, I will kill you and destroy all your works."
This threat hit Shakespeare's soft spot. He didn't care about his life, but he couldn't disregard his nearly completed work.
"Rest assured, I will do my utmost."
"Very well, wait in the corridor. Within five minutes, I will deliver the Ruler to you."
Semiramis indeed had this capability. As the core area of the garden, the palace's defenses were even more stringent, filled with countless traps and an innumerable number of passages, all of which led wherever Semiramis desired.
With a casual snap of her fingers, a temporary trap enveloped the four fast-advancing figures, teleporting three of them away and leaving Jeanne alone to face a corridor leading into endless darkness.
Skillfully altering the spatial structure, Semiramis locked the corridor's end to Shakespeare's study. The mistress of the garden no longer focused her attention outward. She glanced at the wound she considered a disgrace, and lightly wiped her bitten finger across her lips, painting a crimson hue.
"The troublesome ones have disappeared. Now, let me entertain you.
To welcome the "guest" arriving in a few minutes, the Empress personally began preparing the feast.
Then, the doors of the Throne Room slowly opened, welcoming the guest!