"Today's the day," Darnic muttered as he held the flagstone in his hand, overcome with emotion. Sixty years of patient collection of various Holy Relics culminated in this rebellion against the Mage's Association—all for this moment. Up until now, everything had gone according to his expectations. He had dispatched fifty exceptional magicians, including those from the Clock Tower, to execute this plan under cover of night.
As a Master, he could now afford to be relaxed. He had just summoned the Lancer, whose remarkable ability allowed him to manipulate space for thirty seconds, linking these magicians together. Though this Heroic Spirit wasn't the most agreeable character, it mattered little. They had long been under the watchful eye of the Clock Tower. Tonight might be the time to make their next move, or perhaps, if successful, they might no longer be under such scrutiny.
"Oji-sama?" A young girl seated in a wheelchair looked somewhat puzzled by Darnic's unusually lavish smile.
"Fiore? Come here," Darnic exhaled deeply, handing the flagstone to Fiore with an intense expression, akin to a gambler eagerly awaiting the announcement of his prize. "I entrust this to you. Please ensure our success."
Fiore's breath quickened, partly due to Darnic's infectious intensity, or perhaps it was the significance of the flagstone that made her hesitant to act casually.
"I understand, Oji-sama," Fiore nodded. She wheeled herself to the altar and respectfully placed the flagstone in its dead center.
"Can we begin?" Light particles gathered at the highest throne, and a man in jet-black aristocratic formal attire emerged, sitting upon it.
"Yes my king," Darnic bowed.
The trump card sitting upon the throne was his Holy Grail War Heroic Spirit, Vlad III—the most renowned hero in this land. His illustrious reputation further bolstered his formidable strength. However, even with sixty years of preparation, Darnic dared not be careless. He knew the Mage's Association possessed numerous Holy Relics. If they were to earnestly summon a heap of Holy Relics, even the exception of Heroic Spirit Vlad III might not suffice. Thus, he needed to deploy his ace—the Heroic Spirit capable of turning the tide!
"Let us proceed, Greek Hero, Hope of Pure White," Vlad III narrowed his eyes. He too had heard tales of Greece and fully anticipated meeting this hero.
Fiore began to feel anxious. She was the most talented magician present, yet only she could successfully summon this great Greek hero.
Fiore took a deep breath and lifted her hand inscribed with Command Spells, reciting from memory.
"—— —— —— Commence!"
"May your body heed my command, your sword serve my will. By the summoning chalice, let your desires be fulfilled according to this vow and righteous decree. I pledge to execute all that is good in the world, and I willingly vanquish all that is evil."
The pain of the Magic Circuit's violent activation caused beads of sweat to form on Fiore's pure white forehead. Nevertheless, she gritted her teeth and proceeded to recite the final incantation.
"May your spirit be bound to this vessel for seven days, protected by the wheel and the scales of justice!"
As Fiore's voice echoed through the room, a sudden gust of wind swept through. Fiore instinctively shielded her face as Vlad III rose from his throne. Darnic stepped forward, his gaze fixed intently on the center of the altar's radiance.
Yes! This sensation!
It surpassed even the summoning of Vlad III in its intensity!
Surely, this was the hero they sought!
"——-"
The distinct sound of hoofbeats left Darnic in a state of shock.
But this great hero did not bear the hooves of a horse...
"Archer, Chiron, reporting for duty. It seems you're not pleased," Chiron remarked with a wry smile as he glanced around. Finally, his gaze settled on Fiore, who sat in her wheelchair with a bewildered expression. "Master?"
"Uh, yes! Hello," Fiore replied, somewhat flustered.
"Did we fail?" Darnic sighed in resignation. "Despite our preparations, it seems we've encountered an unexpected setback."
"This flagstone?" Chiron raised an eyebrow, looking at the Holy Relic on the altar before offering a gentle smile. "You intended to summon my student."
"Yes," Fiore affirmed. "It is said that this flagstone bears the story of how you met that hero."
"Indeed. He carved it himself and eventually entrusted it to me," Chiron explained, bending down to pick up the flagstone gently. His fingers traced the carvings on its surface—a young man on a white horse, reaching out to catch a half-human, half-horse centaur.
"But this flagstone can only summon me," Chiron handed the flagstone to Fiore. "A Heroic Spirit can only be summoned after death. A living being cannot become a Heroic Spirit."
"Hmm... So you mean the hero who charged into Hell and slew the God of Time hasn't died," Vlad III mused with interest.
"Yes, he has not died. Rather, he is stranded in some distant place. My goal is to use the chalice to open that place," Chiron explained candidly.
"At least we need not worry that the Mage's Association could summon him," Darnic tried to reassure himself. After all, this setback was unavoidable, and Chiron's performance did not fall short of Vlad III's.
"Then welcome to our camp, Teacher of Greek Heroes," Vlad III extended both hands.
Chiron transformed into his human form within the radiant glow.
"Archer?" Fiore rubbed her eyes in disbelief.
"I conceal my true name, compressing my Saint Graph slightly. A half-human, half-horse form was too conspicuous. Though it diminishes my abilities somewhat, rest assured, I can change form at will," Chiron explained. "It's a little trick I picked up."
"Thus, with three Heroic Spirits present, we shall summon the remaining three tomorrow evening. The seventh will arrive shortly thereafter," Darnic rubbed his nose. "Let's hope the Mage's Association takes it easy on us."
Meanwhile, at the Mage's Association...
Kairi stared at the magic contract placed before him with a puzzled expression.
"Please refrain from making that terrifying face again and sign the contract promptly," an elderly man sitting across from Kairi urged patiently.
"Ugh, this clause here—' even in death, deliver unto the Holy Relic'—seems a bit harsh," Kairi grimaced. "You didn't mention this was a Holy Relic."
"Understand, the Holy Relics we're about to obtain might compel you to flee in terror, though that may be overstating it," a youth with long hair gestured from a nearby window.
Kairi swallowed hard. He recognized the youth—someone who had nearly worked himself to death. Many knew him as El-Melloi...
"You signed this for yourself," the elderly Belfeban placed the preserved Juvenile Hydra in formaldehyde in front of Kairi.
"I signed," Kairi replied, signing the contract with evident reluctance.
"Very good. Your commitment to these terms is commendable," Belfeban showed a rare smile, placing a sealed black box in front of Kairi.
"Don't you think these coercive contracts are a bit much?" Kairi attempted to ease his nerves with a cigarette, but Belfeban's stern expression made him retract the smoke.
"When you understand why we must be discreet, many Lords have wasted much time on this matter, although their worth is considerable," El-Melloi...
Belfeban shook his head, carefully breaking the seal and opening the box slowly, revealing a simple flagstone lying inside.
Kairi's breath caught. "This isn't from the museum!"
Earlier that morning, he had seen the most precious item in some museum, sighing about it as he summoned this companion. Now, the same item swayed in front of him.
"No, that was fabricated by us," El-Melloi...
"You smuggled this!" Kairi exclaimed, his mouth agape.
"Please consider it as a tool used in the appropriate place. This isn't just any flagstone; it records the deeds of a hero from the Age of Gods. Moreover..." Belfeban fondly stroked the flagstone. "In legend, it's a divine artifact crafted specifically for a chosen hero."
"This could be called a Noble Phantasm. Though untested, there's likely no method to destroy it," El-Melloi...
"Shouldn't you... be hesitant to make me use it as a catalyst?" Kairi's expression turned skeptical, a hint of urgency creeping into his demeanor. "You mentioned you've tried it."
"Naturally. Do you think we were able to handle the Yggdmillennia so quickly without some conditions? Over the years, they've tried numerous ways to summon that hero," El-Melloi...
"You're asking me to do what even your Clock Tower elites couldn't achieve. How could my mercenaries possibly succeed?"
"We've tried various experiments," Belfeban pushed the box forward. "Legend has it that he received blessings from thirteen gods. His Saint Graph makes it clear that he should be summoned, so we tried dividing it in various ways."
"Dividing... it?" Kairi's eyes widened.
"We only summoned someone who, according to natural law, was blessed by a god. The problem was that they didn't succeed in any of their attempts. Now, there's one last attempt left," El-Melloi...
"So you sought out my Necromancer," Kairi sighed. "You'll need to give me other Holy Relics. I'm not interested in a random summoning."
"Very well. I have bits and pieces of the Knights of the Round Table. Take them with you," Belfeban casually tossed a box to Kairi, his demeanor suddenly changing.
"How casual," Kairi scoffed, as he placed the Juvenile Hydra and the box of Knights of the Round Table fragments into his bag, then reached for the box containing the flagstone.
"——-"
Belfeban's withered hand gripped Kairi's wrist like a vice.
"Remember, not a single scratch should touch it," Belfeban warned.
"Don't worry, I don't have the skill for that," Kairi grinned. "If you don't trust me, don't take the risk."
"Very well. Whether you succeed or fail, return the flagstone immediately. Our plan hinges on it, and there are many candidates who could summon him," Belfeban released his grip. "Oh, and there's someone you should be wary of..."
"You said this flagstone is a bit peculiar," Kairi examined the box, stroking his chin in thought.
As he looked at the back of the box, he saw a youth surrounded by twelve gods above him and a god seated on a throne below. This clearly represented the twelve major gods and a judge, but...
Kairi pointed to the youth's position. "Why carve the silhouette so prominently, and on such a grand scale?"
"It's probably just for decoration. Listen carefully to my words; this is very important for you," Belfeban retrieved a picture from the drawer on the table. "Remember to pay attention to this person."
"She's... a beautiful woman," Kairi nodded. "What about her?"
"Troublesome. No, I should say, she's a bit nerve-wracking. She's also affiliated with our master, but you'd best be cautious," El-Melloi...
"Is she very strong?" Kairi raised an eyebrow. In the picture, a purple-haired woman wearing sunglasses was leading an elderly lady across the street. Even from the photo, he could sense her strength, though he found her somewhat intriguing