The middle-aged man continued his theatrical monologue near the entrance when, suddenly, a thick, dark purple fog enveloped him, swallowing his figure whole.
Moments later, an excruciating burning sensation surged through his body, as if he had been thrown into a pool of acid. Though the fog obscured his form, his agonized screams pierced the air with chilling clarity.
"This is my temple, my garden. I don't recall granting you permission to make such a ruckus here, Caster."
A voice as sweet and dangerous as poison echoed through the space, both alluring and menacing, capable of leading one to ruin.
The true Assassin of the Red Faction, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada's Servant, the Empress of Assyria, and humanity's earliest poisoner—Semiramis.
She stood beside Amakusa, looking down upon the man trapped in the fog with a mix of disdain and amusement, her eyes sparkling with a faint trace of delight as she listened to his screams.
"Please, Assassin, spare Shakespeare. He still has a role to play," Amakusa said, his gentle tone like a warm breeze, as if mediating a trivial dispute.
"Oh? Are you trying to order me, Master? Do you think you can change my mind?" Semiramis cast him a cold, sharp glance. "Surely you're not foolish enough to believe I consider myself beneath you."
Amakusa, however, remained unfazed, his ever-calm smile undeterred by her hostility.
"Of course not. It is merely a humble request."
"…"
Semiramis stared at him for a long moment, irritation flickering in her gaze. Then, with a huff, she turned away and waved a hand, dispelling the poisonous mist around Shakespeare.
"If not for your request, Master, I'd never allow such a pest in my garden. He's as irritating as an insect… and just as annoyingly resilient."
"Oh, thank you, Your Imperial Majesty, for your boundless mercy!" Shakespeare chirped as he sprang to his feet, looking none the worse for wear.
As Semiramis had said, Shakespeare's vitality was truly astonishing. By his own account:
"I've survived countless 'instant deaths' in the form of deadlines! I'm the man who dies over and over and always rises again! This performance is just too brilliant—a stage where heroes enshrined in human history stab, betray, and turn against one another over a foolish cup. If I were to die before I could chronicle their tragic ends, I'd weep rivers of tears! Truly, I would sob uncontrollably!"
This was a result of Shakespeare's personal skill, Self-Preservation (Rank B), which allowed him to survive as long as his Master remained alive. It was this very skill that prompted Semiramis to compare him to a cockroach.
Shakespeare's exaggerated antics darkened Semiramis' expression visibly. Her irritation grew with every word he spoke.
"Make no mistake, Caster. I spared you only because of my Master's plea. But don't think his request will save you every time. If you don't disappear from my sight immediately, I might just change my mind."
"Of course, of course! As you wish, Your Majesty! I'm nothing if not reasonable."
Bowing deeply, Shakespeare added, "After all, women are inherently unreasonable creatures, especially those in love—completely monstrous in their irrationality…"
BOOM!
A magic blast imbued with poisonous attributes struck the ground where Shakespeare had been standing. But by then, he had already dashed through the nearest door, vanishing from sight.
Only his voice remained, echoing mischievously:
"Se-mir-a-mis~~!"
Semiramis trembled with rage, her face so flushed it seemed like it might start dripping blood.
She cast a nervous glance at Amakusa out of the corner of her eye, her demeanor suddenly resembling that of a flustered maiden.
However, Amakusa's expression remained unchanged. His serene smile was as steady as ever.
Relief flooded Semiramis' heart, though it mingled with a touch of disappointment.
As her gaze shifted away, Amakusa's expression briefly wavered, his smile faltering into a faint, complex grimace. But just as quickly, he restored his composure.
"To be honest," Amakusa said softly, "I had hoped to gain the Black Faction's Caster as an ally. After all, we are not so different. Both of us have seen the suffering of this world with our own eyes, cursed by it for eternity. And both of us aspire to achieve what even the gods could not: to bring salvation to this earth."
A hint of sorrow touched his features.
"But… how disappointing. His resolve was half-hearted. So easily swayed… he was never destined to walk this path to its end."
Amakusa closed his eyes for a moment.
"It's truly regrettable. I believed he might understand me. But in the end, I had no choice but to take his life with my own hands."
"Are you confessing now? To whom? That useless god who has accomplished nothing?" Semiramis asked lazily. "Or could it be… you're starting to regret your actions?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Assassin," Amakusa replied with a faint chuckle.
Turning to gaze at the Greater Grail, he added, "My wish is about to be fulfilled. Even if the gods themselves stand in my way, I will strike them down with my own hands. There's no turning back now."
"Don't forget our agreement, Master. I shouldn't need to remind you of the consequences of betraying me."
"Of course, Assassin. Once my wish is realized, you shall become the supreme ruler of this world—the one true queen."
This was a lie.
A poorly crafted one at that.
Yet Semiramis appeared to believe it—or at least pretended to.
At that moment, three mirrors materialized before Semiramis. The images displayed on them made her expression shift.
"Master, the Black Faction's Saber and their forces have finally returned."
"I see…"
Amakusa's response was calm and measured, his tone betraying nothing of his inner thoughts.
"And…" Semiramis hesitated briefly before continuing, "the two Rulers and the Red Faction's Saber are with them."
"…"
Amakusa offered no reply.
He simply stood before the Greater Grail, lost in thought.