Impressions?!

"Hmm. That was both laughable and absurd."

That was Leonidas's assessment when the theater lights all came on, illuminating the credits rolling across the screen.

To those who liked the movie, that assessment was rather harsh. Whether it was the actors' dedication or the structure of the story itself, everything had stirred the blood, making one want to grab a spear and shield and charge into battle alongside the Three Hundred Warriors.

So, fresh from the movie and full of hot-blooded fervor, the young men imitated the warriors from the film and glared fiercely at him. Then, in an instant, they lowered their heads like docile lambs.

They couldn't beat him...

That burly man's biceps were practically bigger than their heads. No one would be stupid enough to compare the hardness of their own head with his fist. Though both had the word "head" in them, the latter was obviously much stronger.

"Xerxes wasn't a giant, and his beard was much longer."

Then Leonidas continued voicing opinions that were both laughable and absurd.

As expected of Leonidas, a man who had lived through Thermopylae. Even his focus was completely different from everyone else's. Abner could not help but laugh, his heart filled with delight.

What? That was this brute's opinion?

The young men whose blood had just been fired up immediately found themselves an excellent excuse: Look, there was no point arguing with him over details like that! If it turned into a fight, it definitely wouldn't be worth it! That was artistic interpretation, not history. If they wanted history, they could take a history class. Why watch a movie?!

Thinking that, everyone immediately felt an extraordinary sense of superiority, as though they were brilliant strategists winning battles from a thousand miles away. Filled with a victor's pride, they strode out of the theater with their heads held high. This showed that Lu Xun had truly contributed much to the spiritual development of the Chinese people. Ah Q's spirit had practically seeped into everyone's bones.

Abner looked at his Servant. Leonidas looked to be only in his twenties, with a clean-shaven chin. His solid muscles gave his face an unmistakably masculine air.

Yet in the portraits of Leonidas that could be found, the man had possessed a thick, luxuriant beard. It might have been a preconceived notion, but it was a very Greek-style beard.

A Servant's state was heavily influenced by the summoner's magical energy. Even with the same Holy Relic, different magical energy could very well summon a Heroic Spirit at a different age.

For example, a Magus with abundant magical energy would summon a Heroic Spirit at the prime of his life. Perhaps in his early twenties, in the prime of youthful physical strength; or perhaps in his thirties or forties, when his strength and experience were both unparalleled. For a Magus of another sort, it might even be his old age, when his experience was at its most extensive.

But if a Magus lacked sufficient magical energy, then he would probably summon a Servant like Carl's—old beyond measure and completely without strength.

Spartans received rigorous training from childhood. Apparently, the Holy Grail had judged the physically vigorous young Leonidas to be more suitable for him.

Still, in order to say a little more to Leonidas, he smiled and tried to infuse his words with teasing amusement. "But Leonidas doesn't have a beard either, does he?"

"He had one later."

As though unwilling to concede, Leonidas quickly cut in. The twitching of his jaw muscles was clearly visible beneath his bold features. It seemed he cared greatly about not having a thick beard... His booming voice echoed through the semi-enclosed space of the theater like thunder. Abner could already vaguely hear a series of soft clicks, likely the shutters of phone cameras.

To prevent secret photography, phones nowadays had to make a sound when taking pictures. It was obvious that such a sturdily built brute would soon become a sensational topic of discussion.

Perhaps the strategy of luring people into attacking his Magic Workshop was somewhat too reckless, but Abner's goal was not victory, so it did not matter.

His goal was to investigate the beginning and end of the Holy Grail War's restart: why there was a Sixth Holy Grail War, who had started it, for what purpose, and by what means.

Of course, winning would be best. That would merely be icing on the cake. If he could not win, that was fine too. It would not affect his objective anyway.

That was why Abner had insisted on choosing a shield-bearing Heroic Spirit: to ensure that even if he lost in future battles, he would not die.

From that perspective, Abner should actually have had excellent compatibility with any Heroic Spirit. Heroic Spirits summoned by the Holy Grail generally had wishes they entrusted to it as well. Abner could generously give the Holy Grail's wish-granting opportunity to the other party. All he needed was the fact that the Holy Grail had descended into the world.

Unfortunately, Leonidas happened to have this sort of personality.

"So, what did you think of Leonidas's portrayal in the movie?"

"Hah? Leonidas?"

Leonidas's voice brimmed with mocking scorn. His proud lips curled upward as he laughed arrogantly. "You mean that short, skinny fellow with the huge beard was Leonidas? Are you telling a joke? Should I laugh?"

Indeed, the actor playing Leonidas was an exceptionally muscular man among humans, but compared to Leonidas, he was still far too frail. This burly man was the perfect embodiment of the word "muscle." Every muscle possessed the texture of steel. His veins throbbed, and with every contraction of his muscles, it felt as though savage howls could be heard within. That was not flesh and blood at all, but a breathing steel machine. With the rhythm of his heart, steel pipes and fuel lines roared powerfully, squeezing out terrifying strength.

Moreover, unlike the rage depicted in the film, Leonidas did not have a habit of shouting at every turn. On the contrary, he consistently displayed the calm bearing expected of a military commander and a king. Perhaps he was proud, perhaps even stubborn and self-willed, but he would never let anger cloud his mind.

That overturned the usual impression people had of Spartans as brainless musclemen. At the very least, the word "brainless" needed to be removed.

The two discussed the movie as they headed outside. When it came to the scene where Spartan warriors shoved Persia's prized war elephants off a cliff, Leonidas laughed boldly. "Xerxes never used such giant beasts. Their ships probably couldn't carry them. And even if they could..."

Then the hulking man gave a cruel smile. "Ten Spartans would be enough to take down one war elephant."

It was an exceedingly confident expression, and Abner understood it well. He was a confident person himself, so no one understood the manner of the confident better than he did.

Perhaps because they were discussing a subject concerning himself, Leonidas unexpectedly became much more talkative. Riding the excitement stirred by the re-release of Three Hundred Warriors, the two walked through the streets, discussing the plot without restraint as they headed toward their base.

Only after they had run out of things to say did Abner tell him his purpose. Leonidas readily stated that he did not dislike the strategy of waiting at ease for an exhausted enemy. Though he personally preferred attacking, he would never lose to anyone in a defensive battle.

"When the time comes, I'll show you the shield Spartans are proud of."

He made that bold declaration.

"Mm. Then I'll await the good news."

It was around this time that Tsukahara Meiji and Archer Loxia discovered them. Loxia secretly followed them toward the so-called Magic Workshop.

It was a river, an exceptionally wide river rarely seen within a city.

In fact, it was an artificial river, built as a scenic attraction for visitors to enjoy. Abner and his Heroic Spirit—Archer did not know what class he was, though she vaguely felt that with so many muscles, he was probably either Saber or Lancer, and more likely than not a hero from ancient Greece, considering the Greek fondness for muscle and strength—arrived at the riverbank. With Abner's magical energy driving it, the surface of the lake froze into a thin sheet of ice. The pair then strode toward the center of the artificial river...

Archer Loxia quietly hid in the distance, observing everything. She had chosen neither high ground with a clear view nor a gloomy side path. Those ideal ambush locations were too easily discovered by an Assassin-class Heroic Spirit. Archer had chosen a milk tea shop at the intersection instead. Through its transparent windows, she could clearly take in Abner and his companion's every movement.

And she could have a cup of milk tea while she was at it...

Then... Archer saw a sight that left her dumbfounded.