In the end, Archer's Master apparently did not want to reveal any more of Archer's strength and called him back. The Masters and Servants present also left one after another, and the night ended peacefully.
Peace, my ass!
Saber and I had nearly died.
Kiritsugu Emiya still had a mountain of problems to deal with. For example, Assassin had clearly been killed, so why had he not withdrawn? Where were the Caster and Berserker who had yet to appear? What were their Masters planning? And who was the one who had made him take the blame? How strong were they? How could Saber's injuries be treated? What if the enemy came knocking while Saber was wounded?
There was too much to do. It was not time to rest yet. Kiritsugu Emiya tossed his cigarette butt onto the ground and crushed it beneath his foot.
If Li Zihan had been there, he could have answered all of his questions. But he was still eating hot pot at a Chinese restaurant on Nanjing Street, with no time to care about the man who should have been unstoppable in this Holy Grail War.
Ignoring an assassin with both strength and a good temperament, one who had no real moral bottom line, would have been foolish. But Li Zihan was not worried that Kiritsugu Emiya would cause any trouble.
After all, a renowned hero wanted to "meet" him. Before that man who had once ascended to godhood, Kiritsugu Emiya was nothing special.
"This hot pot tastes pretty authentic." The young man took out a napkin and wiped away the sweat beading on his forehead, then deftly dropped fresh wagyu beef into the pot to swish around. "Sakura, want some?"
The girl in a Western dress sitting on the young man's lap shook her head. She had already eaten her fill. Compared to the hot pot, the crystal ball beside it held her attention far more.
The crystal ball reflected an image from somewhere else. Within it, a black Giant God was moving through a forest.
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P.S.: Second update.
I absolutely will not turn into the pigeon I hate most!!!
A Request for Aid from the Church
Using magecraft to pose as an elderly couple's grandson, Waver Velvet woke up in the old couple's second-floor bedroom.
The sun was already high outside. By the schedule he had kept at the Clock Tower, Waver would have gotten up long ago to prepare for a day of study. Unfortunately, he had taken part in a battle between heroes yesterday. That battle had greatly drained Waver's already meager magical energy, along with his physical strength, which was just as scarce. He lay lazily in bed, unwilling to get up. Maybe if he just lay there like this, he could stop thinking and avoid worrying about what the future held.
Even long afterward, Waver would remember this day, both to honor the king he would serve and to reminisce about those idle days of the past. Once again, let us applaud the future Lord El-Melloi.
But going back to sleep was impossible. A certain red-haired brute was sitting on the floor without a shred of self-awareness, watching a military channel. Then he loudly mocked the Ursus leader on the screen. "What the hell! A guy like that isn't even worthy of being an enemy!!!"
After laughing, he leaned against the table and wolfed down the rice crackers Waver had bought, washing them down with cola. No one would have recognized this loudmouthed man as Iskandar, the man who had founded the Empire of Alexander and stood foremost among the four greatest military commanders in European history.
Iskandar, King of Macedonia, was a renowned military commander and statesman of the ancient world. He had studied under Aristotle, the famous scholar of ancient Greece. He had united all of Greece, swept through the Middle East, conquered all of Egypt, crushed the Persian Empire, and led his army to the Indus River basin. He was an unparalleled emperor who had seized one-third of the lands of the world's four ancient civilizations.
Recalling the descriptions of this man from the library, Waver felt like he was falling apart inside. Before summoning Iskandar, Waver had imagined what Alexander III would be like. He was the prized disciple of Aristotle, the most learned among the ancient Greek philosophers. He had repeatedly defeated stronger foes on the battlefield, so a man like him surely would not lack wisdom. His eyes should have burned at every moment with fighting spirit and the desire to conquer. Only such a man could have built, with his own hands, the largest nation in the world at the time within thirteen years. He blended Eastern and Western cultures, encouraged intermarriage between peoples, and advocated equality among ethnic groups. Without question, he was a broad-minded leader.
He should have been a king who inspired both awe and admiration!
But reality always differed a little from ideals, so standing before him was a musclehead who spent all day at home playing games, eating snacks, and gossiping about political figures.
Actually, the difference was not that great.
Not that great.
Not great at all.
The difference was way too damn huge!!! Waver's expression twisted slightly. With his fantasies shattered, he could only bury his head in the blankets. He could no longer look directly at any literature concerning the King of Conquerors.
It was like a hero risking being devoured by a dragon to steal a famous sword from the center of a dragon's hoard. The hero imagined it to be some terrifying Divine Weapon, then carefully consulted old records and learned that the sword had once been a nation's treasured relic, possessing unmatched power. The excited hero drew the blade, only to discover that it was not an elegant, deadly weapon, but a butcher's knife for slaughtering pigs.
The fact that he did not slit his own throat with it already showed he had a pretty strong mentality.
Before you continue