The Worst-Matched Master and Servant

Abner was not happy.

No matter who it was, no one in Abner's position would have felt happy.

A cold blade pressed against Abner's Adam's apple. Through his skin, he could clearly feel the killing intent and chill emanating from the blade, and the young Family Head could not help but shudder.

He did not even dare swallow, as though the slightest movement of his Adam's apple would cause that freezing blade to slit his throat.

If he were merely being threatened, that would have been one thing.

Participating in the Holy Grail War was dangerous to begin with. Ambushes and being ambushed were commonplace. As a Master heading onto the battlefield, Abner had long been mentally prepared.

Yet Abner was still deeply frustrated.

The reason was, naturally, the Servant he had summoned.

He was very strong.

As a Heroic Spirit who had answered the summoning as the Lancer class, he possessed strength worthy of the Three Knights' renowned name.

And yet...

The one currently holding a short sword to him was the Servant he himself had summoned.

Ambushed by his own side! What could possibly be more frustrating than that?

To explain why, they had to start a little earlier.

Abner's choice of Heroic Spirit had been somewhat unusual.

With the Winifred family's resources, he could have acquired a superior Holy Relic.

Yet he had not blindly pursued strength—that was what children did.

The stronger the weapon, the greater the demands it placed upon its wielder.

In Abner's eyes, there were countless outstanding Heroic Spirits. The most typical example was the great Greek hero Heracles, who was an exceptionally perfect Heroic Spirit.

However, if he really summoned a great hero so close to divinity, Abner would likely be crushed just by supplying him with mana, putting himself at a disadvantage in Magecraft battles between Masters.

In this regard, he was quite similar to Lord El-Melloi II, a participant in the Fourth Holy Grail War. It was not merely about commanding Heroic Spirits in battle; a Magus's own attainments could also drastically alter the course of a Holy Grail War.

The Holy Relic Abner used was a stone tablet.

Its sharp edges had long since weathered away, and its inscription was blurred, but according to accounts passed down by word of mouth, it should have read: "Stranger, if you come to Sparta, tell the citizens there that we lie dead here, faithful to our oath until the end."

This was the commemorative inscription for the battle historically known as the Battle of Thermopylae.

"This is not boastfulness, but in terms of a Magus's accomplishments alone, I should be among the best in this Holy Grail War. So rather than a Heroic Spirit of the spear meant for offense, what I need is a Heroic Spirit of the shield to protect me. While the Heroic Spirits fight, I will locate the enemy and defeat their Master in a Magecraft battle. That is my fundamental strategy."

That was how Abner had answered Tohsaka Rin.

Having become Family Head at such a young age, Abner's voice carried a Magus's customary pride, along with rational analysis. Looking at his overflowing confidence, even Tohsaka Rin, who had witnessed two Holy Grail Wars, had to acknowledge his presence.

For that reason, he had prepared the heroic warrior who had held Thermopylae even under absolute disadvantage.

With this inscription and the Magic Crest passed down through the Winifred family, Abner had been certain that he would summon one of the finest protectors: Leonidas, the great hero of Thermopylae. The great hero who had led three hundred Spartan warriors and nearly ten thousand irregular troops, forcibly holding back the assault of two hundred and fifty thousand elite Persian soldiers.

With his own magecraft attainments, Leonidas's formidable frontal combat power, and that valiant round shield, Abner could freely choose how to fight his enemies.

If he staked everything on his Heroic Spirit, it would be too risky. The most likely scenario was that the enemy would hold his Heroic Spirit back, then suddenly assassinate him. As a learned gentleman, Abner knew very well about the joke from the Second World War known as the Maginot Line.

Everything was like this: the stronger something was, the weaker it could become. No matter how powerful a Heroic Spirit was, if the enemy lured him away, he became meaningless. Rather than that, it was better to forgo an overwhelmingly powerful Heroic Spirit and seek close mutual support between Master and Servant. This was what was called "expanding the strike zone." In a Heroic Spirit battle, Lancer would not lose. In a Magecraft battle, Abner would certainly win. He could freely choose how to confront his enemies, making preparations before battle without a single blind spot.

And yet...

Where exactly had things gone wrong?

Abner could not help thinking: Being held at swordpoint by my own Servant... surely no participant in any Holy Grail War has ever had worse luck than me?

Even in danger, he had not lost his sense of humor. At the very least, that showed Abner had not completely given up hope. After all, Lancer Leonidas had not attacked yet, which meant there was still room for discussion.

What a relief. If this had been Berserker Leonidas, one participant would probably already have been eliminated.

"Are you... a Magus?"

A deep male voice asked.

That weighty voice suited the Heroic Spirit's appearance perfectly: powerful muscles like those of a Greek sculpture, with violent, boiling blood pulsing beneath skin as tough as steel, like magma. His body was wrapped in a golden cuirass, the massive muscles beneath it so pronounced that they seemed ready to burst the armor apart. A fiery crimson cloak, a golden round shield, a spear, a short sword, and eyes as aggressive as those of a tiger or leopard.

There was no doubt that the man before him, over two meters tall, was the military ruler among Sparta's legendary twin kings. (Note: Sparta used a dual monarchy, with one king responsible for military affairs and the other for civil affairs.)

"This is quite an unexpected way to greet someone. Is this Sparta's etiquette?"

Abner asked what he thought was humorously, while putting on as harmless a smile as possible.

Leonidas gave a disdainful laugh. Even the scornful expression on the towering, sculpture-like man was filled with the ruggedness and pressure befitting a warrior. His voice rang like a bronze bell as he laughed coldly, boldly and contemptuously.

"No, this is not Sparta's etiquette."

"Then..."

"Sparta has no etiquette for slave masters."

Leonidas's rough voice harshly cut Abner off. The hostility faintly present in his words made Abner's heart jolt.

Once summoned into this era by the Holy Grail, Heroic Spirits would certainly receive basic information. Therefore, Leonidas should have understood the details of the Holy Grail War perfectly well.

And it was precisely because of that that Heroic Spirit Leonidas was so enraged.

In Abner's mind, several things suddenly flashed by like lightning...

A foreboding premonition spread like an electric current from his spine through every line of muscle in his body, finally scorching all his flesh into charred ash. After the burning, only a poison called regret remained...

Servant, though called a follower, originally meant an attendant, even a slave...

"Listen well, Magus. I—Leonidas—have hated three things most in my life. First, betrayal."

Leonidas's enormous body leaned closer to Abner. The nearer they were, the higher Abner had to raise his chin to meet his Servant's gaze.

By the time he stood before him, Abner had to tilt his head back to see those seemingly burning eyes.

"If you dare betray me... no matter where you are, my spear will pierce you through. I can tell you from a lifetime of experience: it will not feel good."

"I understand."

Abner nodded with a wry smile. Perhaps because of his cooperation, Leonidas withdrew the blade, letting his sword-wielding right hand hang at his side.

During the Battle of Thermopylae, Leonidas had been betrayed when someone led the Persian army around Thermopylae, allowing them to attack from both sides and causing their defeat. Leonidas's words were easy to understand and easy to forgive. Besides, Abner had no intention of betraying Lancer, so he would not violate this taboo.

Perhaps seeing how cooperative Abner was, Leonidas's tone softened along with the withdrawn blade, and his hostility receded as well.

"Second, occultism. I hate all those people who play at ghosts and gods. You included, Magus."

The proud Spartan's voice was filled with hatred for magecraft. It was not merely a warrior's disdain for magic.

No, it was hatred.

And deep, bone-cutting hatred at that. It was as though Leonidas himself had once suffered a grave betrayal at the hands of occultism, leading to his hostility toward all such things. For him to harbor such overwhelming hatred, Leonidas must have suffered the harshest betrayal from occultism.

"My apologies."

"No need to apologize, Magus. Third..."

Leonidas finally put away his short sword, sheathing it at his belt. With his freed right hand, he seized Abner by the collar and lifted him bodily into the air with sheer force.

Spartans worshipped strength. What they despised most were the bookish manners of Athenians. Within the Spartan city-state, "Athenian" was equivalent to "a homosexual who could only argue."

Yet even so, those proud Spartan warriors had been willing to form an allied army with the Athenians they despised and fight Persia. Why?

Because above ideology and national differences, there was something even more sacred.

That was...

"Third, a Spartan lives as a free man and dies as a free man. Do not even think of enslaving me, the leader of free men—Magus."

Abner's figure was clearly reflected in Leonidas's tiger-like eyes.

At the heart of that thunderous voice were only two words.

Freedom.

At Thermopylae, what had driven this hero to fight to the death were merely those two seemingly insignificant words.

For freedom, so as not to become Persia's slave, even when he could not command a great army, this man had been willing to stake his life with only three hundred personal guards.

During the battle, Xerxes had repeatedly urged him to surrender, declaring that as long as the Spartans yielded and pledged submission, he would permit Leonidas to become king of all Greece.

Even so, that proud warrior had still chosen to raise his shield before soldiers as numerous as mountains and seas.

A warrior who fought for freedom would never abandon his own freedom.

Naturally, Leonidas would never acknowledge a master-servant relationship like that of Master and Servant.

Of course, Abner knew Sparta's history and knew that the Helots were Spartan property, but now was clearly not the time to mention that.

Heroic Spirit Leonidas and Abner... no, he and any Master were the worst possible match.

"I understand. Then... please allow me to say something."

"Mm."

Leonidas was fairly reasonable. He gave a sound of understanding through his nostrils and carefully set Abner back on the ground.

"My name is Abner, Abner Fergus Winifred. It is a pleasure to work with you, Lancer—my partner."