Chapter 128 - Chapter 54

The Holy Grail War should never involve ordinary people. That's an ironclad rule that must not be broken.

Cyd stood in silence, watching the blank-eyed people emerge from the mist. They were just ordinary citizens—no magical abilities, no traces of combat training—but each of them held a small scalpel, their empty gazes fixed on him.

"So this is how you want to play, huh?"

"Jack, I told you, as long as you didn't drag innocent people into this, I wouldn't stop you," Cyd said, dropping his weapon, Heavy Forge Pandora, onto the ground with a thud. "Care to explain yourself?"

"Sorry, kind Mr. Ruler," Jack's voice echoed from the thick fog, innocent yet eerie. "We just wanted to win, to make our wish come true. But it's not enough. The homunculi here are running low, and without magic, Mama can only help the priest and that wicked woman."

"I see... so that's your game." Cyd cracked his neck, gripping Heavy Forge Pandora as it shifted into a scythe, dark energy crackling around it. He hoisted it onto his shoulder. "If that's your plan, I guess I have no choice but to keep my promise and eliminate you."

If Shirou Kotomine could sneak Jack into the Hanging Gardens, he could just as easily bring in ordinary people. The tactic was simple: exploit the fact that Ruler wouldn't attack innocent civilians to buy more time.

"What should we do? We can't hurt them; they're just possessed!" Jeanne d'Arc exclaimed, worried.

Jack's voice floated out again, "Mr. Ruler, you're a hero, right? Mama told us about your legend. You blazed through the world like a shooting star, giving people hope, even though you couldn't save everyone. You gave them the chance to believe, because one day, you'd arrive to save them."

Cyd's mouth twitched at the exaggerated praise. "I'm not that great."

Jack's expression grew more serious as she pressed a scalpel into a nurse's stomach, blood staining the white uniform. "But we never got that chance."

"Wait!" Jeanne cried out, raising her banner to intervene, but Cyd held her back.

"Don't be rash. That person's not dead yet. If you move, Jack might finish her off," he warned.

"We were abandoned before we were even born," Jack continued, her voice soft, but filled with bitterness. "Left to rot like trash, food for wild dogs. We didn't even get a chance to wait for hope."

She slowly dragged the scalpel upward, more blood spilling out. The nurse showed no reaction, eerily detached from the pain.

Jeanne turned her face away, unable to watch.

"No one saved us. No one loved us. We were unwanted. That's why we want the Holy Grail—to have just one chance, to be loved."

Cyd narrowed his eyes. Jack the Ripper wasn't just a single entity—it was a collection of vengeful spirits, formed from countless unborn children cast aside by society.

Atalanta closed her eyes. As someone who had also been abandoned by her parents, she could sympathize. But she had been lucky. She was born, experienced life, and even found pure, unselfish love—something Jack had never known.

"Mr. Ruler, you never came for us," Jack's voice turned cold. "That's your failure, the hope of the people. So…" She pulled the scalpel from the nurse's body with a twisted smile. "You won't take away our hope, will you? It's all we have."

"That's not hope," Cyd said, dragging his scythe along the ground as he approached Jack. "And you were never without love."

Jack's face crumpled like a child being scolded. "Then I'll have to chop you into little pieces!"

She shoved the bleeding nurse toward Cyd before vanishing into the mist.

"Take care of her. I'll handle Jack," Cyd ordered, tossing the nurse back toward Jeanne.

"On it!" Jeanne caught the woman, fumbling to stop the bleeding as the nurse passed out from blood loss.

"Need a hand?" Atalanta summoned her bow.

Cyd scratched the back of his head. "Nah. After what that kid said, I feel like I should at least try to save them, even if they don't thank me."

"You're such a fool," Atalanta sighed, dismissing her weapon and leaning against a wall. "They won't appreciate it."

"I'm not doing it for thanks. You of all people should know that," Cyd said, striding toward the possessed crowd, who brandished their scalpels at him.

Suddenly, the mob attacked, aiming for his vital points with cold, calculated precision.

Clang!

Their scalpels shattered on impact, as black dragon scales erupted from Cyd's cloak, forming two massive claws.

"This might get a bit rough. Bear with me."

With a flick of his fingers, the dragon claws swept through the crowd, slamming them into the walls. More scales flowed from the claws, wrapping the civilians up tightly, leaving only small gaps for them to breathe.

"Now you can't use them as hostages."

As Cyd retracted the dragon claws, he stomped the ground, sending cracks spreading out like a spiderweb. The sheer force dispersed the mist, revealing Jack's small figure hiding in the fog.

"It's over."

Cyd appeared before her in a flash, scythe raised, the blade humming with deadly energy.

"Why!" Jack screamed, knowing she couldn't win. Without the fog or hostages, she was just a third-rate Assassin.

"We just wanted to be loved! You couldn't save us! You can't take away our hope!"

So that's how they see it…

They believed they had never been loved and that the Holy Grail was their only hope. If that was truly what they believed, if they really thought the Grail was their salvation…

"Sorry, but I have to take that 'hope' away," Cyd said, swinging the scythe down.