Shinji Matou At Your Service

The empress, having already drunk quite a bit, was half-leaning against the table in the courtyard. She casually swirled the blue and white porcelain cup in her right hand, completely unaware that her languid grace was more intoxicating than a century-old vintage wine.

Sitting opposite her, enjoying the sight of the drunken beauty before him, Shirou half-closed his eyes in admiration, pity, and relaxation, but without a hint of possessiveness. He grabbed the wine jar, poured a cup for both himself and his companion, and then picked up a piece of boiled egg, placing it in his mouth.

"I say, assassin, do you regret making that contract with me?"

"At this point, you still ask about that? Master, your proposal was intriguing. As long as you can endure my poison, I have no hesitation in assisting you."

"Even if I do not want the Holy Grail?"

"But you still aim to seize the Holy Grail, do you not?"

Semiramis turned her head and looked at Shirou through a haze.

Shirou nodded. "Because I promised someone I would help him make a wish on the Holy Grail for the salvation of all humanity, even though I do not favor this wish. Well, a promise is a promise, and I've already received the reward, so I have to see it through. Moreover, there's the influence of that guy's lingering consciousness. Saints are always so troublesome."

"Saint? Consciousness?"

"I can't tell you now. Just wait a bit longer."

Since Shirou was unwilling to say more, Semiramis did not press further. Many things, like wine, become more fragrant and flavorful with time.

"If that wish is fulfilled, the new world—"

"—will be very dull. That's why I didn't tell you."

"I see. An interesting Holy Grail War, an interesting Master, and a dull wish—such contradictions are interesting too. I've started to think that even without our pact, assisting you wouldn't be unacceptable—if you could curb your tongue a bit."

"Forget it, I can't change my mouth for the rest of my life." Shirou laughed, raising his wine cup. "To an interesting Holy Grail War, cheers."

"Cheers."

The two cups clinked, and each drank their fill.

A gray pigeon landed between their cups, its small head nuzzling against Semiramis's hand.

Semiramis lifted her head, sweeping away the drunkenness from her face, and met the gaze of the familiar that had come to deliver a message. She was both an assassin and a caster.

"Double Summon"—an extremely rare skill allowing one to retain both assassin and caster class abilities.

Thus, Red Assassin had familiars typically exclusive to casters.

Semiramis had been abandoned by her mother at birth, and the pigeons had raised her in place of a wet nurse. Since then, the pigeons have become her eternal friends.

"A report. It seems our berserker has just arrived in Trifas. Archer and Rider are also ready as reserves."

"Oh my. Rider too?"

Both Shirou and Semiramis were aware that Archer was tracking something. Now it seemed Rider had joined in as well.

"He seems to be following Archer—well, it's that Rider. He's likely trying to persuade his fellow countryman, Archer."

There was a slight hint of slyness in Semiramis's voice.

The Rider, who was so bold and carefree that he didn't even regard kings with any importance, and the Assassin, who ruled as Empress in Assyria—Shirou could sense the deadly incompatibility between these two. If it were a "Holy Grail War" instead of a "Holy Grail Battle," this would likely be the first pair to clash.

However, under his coordination, their conflicts were limited to verbal exchanges and wouldn't affect the larger picture.

Shaking the now-empty wine jar, Shirou thought for a moment and said, "From the results, you should be right, but the relationship between these two goes beyond just being from the same place. At least, for Rider, it's more complicated."

"Is there some hidden story here?" Semiramis was intrigued. Gossip was a form of entertainment, especially when it involved people she disliked.

"There is, indeed. I can tell you, but you have to promise me one thing—feel free to tease Archer and Rider about it, but don't say it came from me."

"I promise."

"Archer was a companion of Rider's father. They, along with other heroes whose names are recorded in myths, went on various adventures. If I remember correctly, Archer was the only woman in that group, at least the only famous one, and she was the goddess in the hearts of most of the adventurers, including Rider's father."

"Are you saying something happened between Rider's father and Archer?" Semiramis speculated with some malice.

"I wish something had happened; it would be more interesting. Unfortunately, nothing did. Rider's mother was not someone to be trifled with. If Rider's father had dared to stray, he would have been done for. But even though nothing happened, that youthful admiration never faded, and he mentioned her to his children more than once. Think about it—when a father speaks with admiration and shyness about a woman, what impression does that leave on his children? Doesn't it plant a complex, indescribable feeling?"

In a way, Shirou had a rather wicked sense of humor.

"I see." Semiramis nodded thoughtfully. "How do you know so much? Could it be—you have a similar experience?"

"Uh..." Shirou paused. "How did you make that connection? I thought you'd ask if I had any relation to those two."

"If you did, they would have recognized you upon meeting. Don't change the topic."

"There's no such thing."

"Then how do you know so much?"

"I've seen a lot."

Shirou sighed, and for a moment, the depth in his expression made Semiramis overlook his youthful appearance.

"I may look young, but I'm older than you."

"You don't act like it."

"Heh, you dislike judging by appearances, so why doesn't that apply to me?"

"I'm not judging by appearance but by behavior—your demeanor matches your looks."

"That's because I've adjusted my mindset to that of a seventeen-year-old. Being young is great. Your current mindset isn't like when you were on your deathbed, is it?"

Semiramis fell silent. The summoning of Heroic Spirits was indeed mysterious, capable of calling forth different facets of the same person from various periods of their life. The current Semiramis was in her most beautiful and powerful years.

After a long pause, she finally said, "I'm curious about what you'll be like in ten years."

"Not much different from now, just taller, more mature, married, with children, and unable to act on whims as much."

"You're married?"

Semiramis's face showed a hint of surprise, quickly giving way to a lifelong allure.

"Master, how do your wife compare to me?"

Shirou answered decisively, without a trace of hesitation: "They are all more beautiful than you."

"I don't believe it!" Semiramis protested. She had a rather contradictory personality, disliking others judging by appearances, yet also hating when her beauty was overlooked.

"Believe it or not, it's up to you—in my eyes, they are the most beautiful, unparalleled in the world, no, in the entire multiverse."

"Them? You have more than one wife?"

"Yes."

"Hmph, as expected, all men are greedy and unfaithful." This answer had offended Her Majesty the Empress once again.

Just as Shirou was about to say something, another pigeon landed.

Semiramis set aside her distractions and listened to the pigeon's report.

"The person you asked me to watch for has finally arrived."

"The Ruler, right?"

Upon hearing this, Shirou immediately sat up straight, his right hand rhythmically tapping the table as he carefully calculated various matters.

"Yes. It's confirmed that the Ruler has infiltrated Romania."

Thanks to the network of pigeons spanning the entire country, Shirou and Semiramis could monitor the whole situation without leaving their quarters.

The moment the Ruler materialized and infiltrated the battleground country (Romania), Semiramis's scout pigeons sensed the Servant's inescapable flow of magical energy.

"What should we do?"

"Leaving it alone isn't impossible, but we'd miss a good show."

"A good show?"

"You'll see soon enough. Have Lancer test him. If he can kill her, all the better, though that's unlikely."

"If Rider were here, they could team up," Semiramis lamented.

Among the seven Red Servants, excluding Saber who was acting independently, there were six remaining. Lancer and Rider stood out compared to the other four. Especially Rider, whose fame in Romania could rival that of Vlad III.

Shirou shook his head. "Rider wouldn't accept this task. Even if it were a command from his Master, he'd refuse no matter what—that's the kind of person he is. Ordinary people might call it stubbornness; in a hero, it's called heroic spirit."

Rider wasn't a rebellious Berserker, but he was far from a knight serving a king. If something didn't suit him, he'd openly defy even a king's command. He'd take up arms again only to avenge a friend.

Such a man would never accept an order to kill the Ruler alongside Lancer.

"Lancer is different; he is purely a warrior, loyal to the Lord he recognizes. As long as it's a command from his Master, he wouldn't have the slightest thought of defiance and would act immediately."

This assessment clarified many things for Semiramis.

"This is also why, even though you could directly strip Lancer's Master of their Command Spells, you chose not to and had me control him with poison instead."

"Exactly. To the Red Lancer, I declare: Follow the guidance of the Red Assassin and eliminate the Ruler. The release of your Noble Phantasm is at your discretion!"