Tanuki Rise of the Yokai Clan

"Dammit. This is bad."

Rider, who was standing on the arch of the Fuyuki Bride overlooking the battle taking place in the warehouse district, muttered softly as he stood up.

"Wh, what is?"

Seeing the giant Servant display impatience for the first time, Waver became agitated, and he questioned Rider while clinging to the steel frame.

"Lancer brought out a decisive technique. Looks like he wants the match decided quickly."

"Wouldn't that be favorable for us?"

"Fool, what are you talking about?"

Rider stamped his hell on the steel frame he was standing on with a bang. For Waver, whose entire body was clinging to the frame, the tremor shook him to his very bones, and another shriek rose.

"I wanted to wait out on the battle's development before everyone arrives, but by the look of the current situation, Saber's going to have a disadvantage, and it would be too late to attack by then."

"Is it too late? Didn't you want to strike when they have all become exhausted from fighting each other?"

"...I think you have misunderstood me, boy."

Rider furrowed his brows and tilted his head downwards to look at the Master lying beside his feet as if disappointed at the performance of a humorless clown.

"I did hope that other Servants would take up Lancer's bait. Isn't it obvious? Rather than picking them out one by one, it's far better to get them all together and have a great battle royale!"

"..."

Waver forgot to answer; he was shocked out of his wits in realizing the differences between his understanding and that of the brave Heroic Spirit.

"Get them all together... a battle royale?"

"Yes. It's such a rare opportunity to cross blades with the greatest heroes of all ages. If all six of them are here in completion, I won't let any of them get away."

A fierce and dangerous growl like that of a lion seeped out of Rider's throat, but there was a tint of laughter as he titled the needs of his lips upwards. Waver realized that only this man could wear a grin like that. Yet, his thought might change that thought when he meets the real beast in the future.

"Now then, Saber and Lancer. They both have the flaming spirit of true warriors. I admire them; it would be a pity to let them die like this."

"What else is there apart from killing them?! Isn't that the point of the Holy Grail Waaa-!"

Waver's slightly hysterical voice was mercilessly interrupted by a smack to his forehead.

"Victory without ruin, domination without disgrace. That is a true conquest!"

Rider proclaimed, holding his chest upright; then he unsheathed the sword by his waist and sliced through the hollow sky with a swing, cleaving apart the empty space.

An enormous shining Noble Phantasm immediately appeared, accompanied by a spiraling torrent of galloping Prana. Waver felt like he was about to be blown over by the sudden storm, swallowing his screams and hugging the steel frame even tighter.

"Observation is over. We will join the battle, boy."

Before his words were finished, Rider had mounted the Noble Phantasm with a leap, his mantle flowing.

"Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! You're acting nonsense!"

"Oh? If you don't want to go, you can stay here and look."

"I am going! Bring me along, idiot!"

---

Gales surged. A confusion of life and death.

The moment the swordsman and the spearman slid past each other, flowers of bright crimson blood fluttered and bloomed briefly before fading away in the blink of an eye.

Saber, who changed the past, stopped. The two of them turned at the same time.

They both stood erect without losing the thought of warring against each other. The two Heroic Spirits were still intact. In that last moment, Saber made a decisive decision and made a quick turn that prolonged their duel.

As a result, the short yellow spear that was poised to pierce Saber didn't land on her chest but on her left arm. At the same time, the golden sword that Saber uplifted devoted just a little from Lancer's vitals, the edge aimed at Lancer's left arms.

The damages they received from their last exchange were similar to each other.

However, was it the truth?

"You still won't let me win easily... It's very good, that adamant manner of yours."

Lancer stared at Saber with a desolate smile as if desperately trying not to pay attention to the wound on his elbow. As expected, like a film rewind, Lancer's injury was healed without anyone touching it and left no trace behind. A Servant's self-healing would not manage to recover him that quickly; it must be his hidden and observing Master who used the healing Magecraft.

Contrary to Lancer, even Saber's demure beauty could not hide her pain and anxiety.

Lancer's airborne spear and the sword clutched tightly by Saber's two hands had a definite imbalance in power. From the outside, at least, the wound dealt with by the short spear on Saber's forearm seemed rather light compared to Lancer's injury.

"...Irisvel, heal my wound as well."

"I healed it! I did, but..."

Irisviel was undoubtedly a first-rate Magus. The strength and intensity of her craft goes without saying. She is, in truth, an exception in the world of the Magi, possessing a body that was "designed" and "manufactured."

It would be impossible for her to make mistakes when using basic Magecraft, such as healing. Even if an error did occur on the off chance, Irisviel would know how to deal with it herself.

And yet—

"No, the healing did work. Saber, your current state is one of full health."

"....."

Saber did not dare to keep her guard down as she kept appearing on Lancer with caution and, at the same time, stared at the injury on her left arm. The wound did not bleed much and was quite shallow, but the problem was that her sinews were severed. The most important digit on her hand, the thumb, couldn't be moved; therefore, Saber couldn't exert enough strength to grip the sword hilt.

Saber knew that there was nothing wrong with Irisviel's healing methods, but the arm was not cured. Her left thumb felt as if it was born crippled, turning completely immobile.

"In front of my Noble Phantasm Gae Dearg, Crimson Rose of Exorcism, it's good that you realized armor is useless."

Perhaps he thought that after showing the effects of his Noble Phantasm, there was no point in keeping up the masquerade. Lancer spoke the true name of his Noble Phantasm with no hesitation.

"But you were rash to discard our armor. If you have not, you would have a defense against Gae Buidhe, the Golden Rose of Morality."

"I understand now... It is a cursed spear; wounds dealt with by it would never heal. I should have noticed this earlier.."

A crimson spear that severs Prana, a cursed golden spear, and a love spot below his left eye that attracts women—it was easy to determine once all those are put together. Based on legends, the glorious name praised by the Celtic legends of heroes was remotely related to King Arthur. It was quite incredulous that this did not occur to Saber.

"The first warrior of the Knight of Fionna... Diarmuid of the Love Spot. I did not know that the Grail granted the honor of participating in the war with you."

Servant participating in the fourth Holy Grail War, Lancer... the Heroic Spirit of the Celts, Diarmuid ua Duibhne.

Now, each of them is at a disadvantage.

Either Saber, whose sinews were severed, or Lancer, whose identity was known, but nevertheless, the two had never stopped their duel. Instead, it brought their spirit to the highest point as they were ready to end this battle.

"Prepare yourself, Saber. I will win this time."

"Only if I do not win first, Lancer."

The two exchanged bold provocations as both planned their next fatal attack, slowly and cautiously approaching the other.

The holy sword and demonic spear were at the edge of an explosive situation.

The air was cold and clear and full of tension—at that moment, it was suddenly cloven apart by a thunderous ruckus.

"—?!"

Saber and Lancer were both still in awe, simultaneously turning to look at the southeastern sky. The source of the sound was clear for all eyes to see.

A flying object flew a sight line across the sky and was heading directly to their location, shedding violet sparks of lightning on its way. The sound was undoubtedly created by it.

"....a chariot?"

No one could stay calm as they watched this chariot being yoked by two bulls with muscles rippling like waves. Their hooves stomped the empty space, pulling the luxurious and splendid chariot forward.

Lancer and Saber both tensed and stared at the suddenly arriving chariot that interrupted their battle.

All the Masters were also tense and shivered in fear.

The dazzling light that ceased as the chariot landed revealed the figure of a muscular man standing commandingly on the shelf of the chariot.

"Both of you, put down your arms. A king comes!"

Naturally, Tamazuki and Scheherazade watched all of this, but while she didn't know, he knew what this musclehead Servant was going to do.

"My name is Alexander, King of Conquerors. I am participating in this Holy Grail War and received the class of Rider."

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