V1C3

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The next day, I paid a visit to a certain information broker. I

brought Pran with me, and this time he was not refused entry.

–

On the surface, it appeared to be a cosy little luxury hotel catered

towards tourists. In a corner of the austere Renaissance-styled lobby

were two concierges. Cesare, the elder, and Lucrezia, the younger:

the Servant duo known together as the Borgia siblings.

Calculating minds housed in youthful bodies. The kind of Servant I

was worst at dealing with.

The two were all but identical in stature and visage, as though they

were twins. A boy and girl, slim and graceful, the image of

angelic purity. They answered to their Master, the ageing hotel

manager, but it was common knowledge that almost all of the

management of the hotel was left to them.

Cesare, the elder, who in life had been the right hand of his father

the Pope, and with the rank of Archbishop had wielded authority both

within and without the Holy See. Lucrezia, the younger, who armed

with her heavenly beauty had married over and over into political

advantage. The siblings’ names were infamous even today, mostly in

connection with the mysterious and untimely deaths met by many who

opposed their ambitions.

–

“My, if it isn’t Erice!”

“Good evening, Erice.”

The pair smiled at me, with their elbows resting on the marble reception desk.

“We thought it was about time for you to pay us a visit.”

“That child you have with you – so he’s the Masterless Servant

everyone’s talking about?”

I turned a blind eye to their proddings. The boy must have taken a

shine to the antique goggles in my apartment, because he’d worn them

all the way here.

The siblings nonchalantly slid me a shot glass across the counter as

they greeted us. The sharp scent of spirits wafted through the air.

“I can’t. I’m underage.” I would have to choose my words

carefully, and be cautious in my every move with these two. They

offered some juice instead, and Pran reached out for it. I placed a

firm hand on his shoulder and pulled him back behind me.

“Would you happen know anything about it?”

Lucrezia gently crossed her legs on the tall chair behind the desk,

and shook her head. “Unfortunately not. Or at least, nothing more

than what’s available on the municipal network.”

“But that aside… perhaps you might be interested in this.”

Cesare placed a storage device on the desk. It couldn’t have been

bigger than my little finger, and was equipped with a magical lock.

Anyone designated as the key could access the information it

contained directly, without the need for a smartphone or similar

device, but it was otherwise very difficult to hack.

“What am I looking at?”

“A list of citizens who have attempted to conduct unsanctioned

summonings, ranging from the day before yesterday to several days

prior. With particular emphasis on those whose rituals failed or

ended prematurely.”

“…I see.”

This would have to be the first step in any investigation, barring an

extraordinary stroke of luck. It was precious information that would ordinarily take a great deal of time and effort to gather, and now it was being offered all too

easily. Unsanctioned summons were illegal, of course, but the

invasion of others’ privacy also carried heavy penalties in Mosaic

City – although if one balked at the notion of invading others’

privacy, the profession of information broker perhaps wasn’t for

them.

“What a curiously generous offer.”

“We’re simply glad to be of service to you, Erice.”

“I’m delighted to hear it.”

These siblings would often require payment in more than money. In the

past, I’d had to let slip secrets I’d learned of the criminal

underworld in exchange for their information. More than a few times,

it had later come to light that a Servant I had disposed of had been

someone they considered an inconvenience. I didn’t like to admit it,

but odds were good that I was playing an unwitting puppet on

invisible strings.

So caution was vital.

I gently withdrew the hand I had extended towards the storage device.

It was alluring bait, but more than likely poisoned.

“Actually, it’s not because of him that I’m here today.”

“Well then, what are you here for?”

“Chitose came here, didn’t she? Sometime last night, most likely.”

The siblings’ expressions were inscrutable. They were waiting to see

what move I would make.

“I’ve had my assignments from Caren suspended, so I’ll be closing

up business for a while. There isn’t much I could do for you even if

I wanted to.”

Cesare measured up myself and Pran, his chin resting on the palm of

his hand. “Business, eh? You know, Erice, there are many people who

suffer because of your work, and a scarce few who benefit from it.

But above all…”

Lucrezia continued where her brother left off. “You yourself gain

nothing from it, do you? What’s wrong with taking this opportunity to

enjoy a little vacation away from it all?”

“If it’s retribution from people you’ve crossed that concerns you,

we can show you a wonderful safe house. Although it might weigh a

little heavy on the wallet.”

“A safe house, you say.”

Well, this clinched it. Chitose had come

here, and coerced them. Threatened them. But it seemed like they had

no intention of concealing that fact. So what did that mean?

There must have been something else they were hiding. I had no choice

but to show my hand.

I heaved a theatrical sigh. “You know, I had a little chat with the

relic salesman in the Akiba Department Store. He mentioned that when

Kundry attempted to procure the materials for an unsanctioned

summoning, a certain information broker intervened to vouch for her.

An interesting story, don’t you think?”

It wasn’t a bluff. I had returned to the relic shop after parting

ways with Karin on the previous day.

“I’ve also heard that there have been some new traps on the market

recently. Ones that leech power from ley lines, that have proven very

popular among less savoury times. If you know anything, I’d greatly

appreciate if you could share it. It’s very important I be properly

prepared, just in case, you understand. Well? How about it, Signor?

Signora?”

Their expressions stiffened for the slightest of moments. Even if I

wasn’t currently on a direct assignment from a municipal

administration AI, I still had just cause to take immediate action if

I personally witnessed an attempt to interfere with the city’s

infrastructure.

“Ahaha… Oh, Erice. You best us yet again.” Lucrezia gave a

tinkling laugh as she leaned over her brother’s back. Stretching over

his shoulder, she took back the storage device on the desk, before

setting down a new one. Surprise and a hint of protest marred

Cesare’s otherwise unreadable expression. It seemed that this time,

the sister had read one move further ahead.

“They do say that there is no word “no” in a concierge’s

dictionary. Is that not so, Cesar?”

“So it is, Lucrezia. So it is.”

These Servants lived their lives atop the thinnest layer of ice. If I

were to start asking the wrong questions, they would be finished as

information brokers. If they wanted to avoid that fate, they had had

no choice but to reveal their own hands.

With my work here done, I departed the lobby. I felt no desire to

stay. This was a tranquil and beautiful place, but it was not one to

remain in for long – its noxious atmosphere made it hard to

breathe.

Three spouses and eight children…I wonder what that feels like.

There was no end to the mysteries surrounding these siblings, and I

found my thoughts turning to the sister in particular. Historically

Lucrezia had been nothing more than a pawn used to engineer political

marriages, but I wondered how much influence she had really exerted

over her brother, Cesare, and her father, Pope Alexander VI. I

wondered if they had not in fact been her puppets, dancing on the

strings of the spider at the heart of the web.

–

“'Til next time, Reaper.” “We look forward to your next visit.”

The siblings waved goodbye as they saw me off from behind the

counter.

“Goodbye.”

Pran waved back in polite response.

—-

We decided to take a break at a nearby coffee shop - the Bookshop

Cafe Borges, where one could relax surrounded by a veritable forest

of tomes from the old world. It was one of my favourite relaxation spots.

The first floor comprised a cafe area, a wide space for pleasant

conversation. An open stairwell led up to the second floor, where

innumerable bookshelves stood crammed together so tightly that it

looked like the floor might give out. Sofas and chairs were placed

between the labyrinthine shelves, on which one could fully immerse

themselves in the pleasure of reading.

On a whim I asked the ageing, mild-mannered shopkeeper, and learned

that they did indeed have a first-edition English print of “The

Little Prince” in their collection. It may not have been a personal

artefact of the man himself, but it could certainly have been a

sufficient catalyst to summon Saint-Exupéry.

However, when I showed the manuscript to Pran, he exhibited no

special response. In the end, all I learned was that he was capable

of reading and writing English. The quirky illustrations at least

seemed to capture his interest, although as usual he reacted poorly

to the snake.

I was far from giving up on the search for his true name, but I could

not justify pursuing the Saint-Exupéry

connection any further out of anything but my own wishful thinking.

Over a light lunch, I decided to check the storage device the Borgia

siblings had given me. And the shock I felt on seeing the news

recorded therein was enough to obliterate any trace of lingering

attachment to Saint-Exupéry.

–

They called it the Command Seal Hunter.

A chain of murders had visited Mosaic City, connected by a common

thread: all of the victims had died with their Command Seals stolen,

forcibly severed from their body with the appendages that bore them.

No reports had yet been issued from Akihabara, but people had been

found dead in other wards – and the victims were not the kind of

underground magi that I was used to tangling with. They were ordinary

citizens.

In this new world, where illness and death had been conquered, the

most common place to see the names of people who had died was in

murder reports. Some things could not be avoided, even with the

protection of the Holy Grail.

I thought that was what I

was here for…

One of the most unusual aspects about this particular series of

crimes was the amount of time that had elapsed before they were

discovered. If the victims had been killed and their bodies

concealed, finding them would have been comparatively easy; that was

what the Caren series was for. However, that was not what had

happened. Instead, for several days after being stripped of their

Command Seals, the victims had continued to live their lives as

normal.

One of them had the Command Seals on his right hand stolen, and he

just wore a glove to conceal the wound. A glove! And what’s more,

there’s no record of those Command Seals being used in the interim…

There were even records here of conversations they had had with

neighbours, meaningless small talk. Each and every one of them had

concealed the wound they’d suffered – some skilfully, others very

poorly. The truth was often only discovered after they suddenly

collapsed unconscious in the middle of whatever they were doing. Or

perhaps some task in their daily lives had required the use of a

Command Seal, and only then had others pointed out the abnormality

where their Command Seals used to be.

Some sort of drug to dull their sense of pain? Perhaps incredibly

powerful hypnosis? No, impossible. Some of them lost whole limbs, for

crying out loud! How could someone not realise their own throat had

been torn out? But then…they must…

I shuddered. The victims must already have been dead at the point

when their Command Seals were taken. And then their lifeless bodies had

continued to act out their everyday routine.

This was a case unlike anything I’d ever seen. My appetite slowly

disappeared as I read further. Was a Servant responsible for these

murders, or a magus? Both were possible. And with the rate that these

cases were appearing, and the time that had elapsed before their

discovery…

It was more than possible that other victims were walking the streets

of Akihabara right now. This wasn’t something I could ignore.

I gulped, and cast a glance around the cafe. My gaze lingered

involuntarily on a woman with gloved hands. At a customer wearing

unusually thick clothing.

–

Then I saw the Command Seal glowing on the back of their hand. They

were merely communicating with their Servant.

–

The Command Seals of the pre- and post-war worlds were supposedly

very different. In a true Holy Grail War, their use would be limited,

and they would be visibly divided into a number of distinct strokes;

usually three. Three strokes, with one use per stroke, for a total of

three uses before they were gone. Or so I had heard, anyway. The past

was often less convenient than the present, I supposed.

Command Seals in this new world were different on almost all counts.

For a start, they were not divided into distinct parts. At first

glance they may appear to be partitioned in three, but closer

inspection would reveal they actually comprised a detailed,

interlinking pattern that would fade on usage proportional to the

amount of mana expended. Secondly, a faded Command Seal would recover

with time, courtesy of the Grail replenishing its mana. The recovery

time varied a little from person to person depending on their

aptitude for magecraft, but broadly speaking it would take only a few

days.

Thirdly, while (as the name implied) Command Seals were traditionally

used to command one’s Servant, temporarily strengthening their

abilities, this had become less and less of a necessity as a result

of the dramatic change in Master-Servant relationships. Nowadays, they

were often utilised as a simple mana source, a means of granting the

Master access to thaumaturgy. If anything, in today’s world, that had

become the more common usage.

Only two people in this city did not possess a set of these Command

Seals: myself, and Manazuru Chitose.

Chitose, however, still retained the Command Seals she had obtained

during her own Grail War. Perhaps that made little practical

difference in everyday life, but it was still more than I had.

–

A group of three entered the cafe: two tall men, and a young girl

barely half their height. The girl exchanged a few words with one of

her companions, and grinned. She wore a familiar-looking white coat draped over

her shoulders.

“Haruko? What’s she doing here?”

She swept her gaze around the cafe, and gave a small start; clearly,

she had seen me too. The child seated next to me probably hadn’t

helped make me any less conspicuous. I noticed that the hat she

usually wore low over her face was absent today.

For their part, her companions were visibly muscular, and exuded a

distinctive aura. It was obvious at first glance – to me, at least

- that they were Servants. In the lead was a cheerful-looking man in

the late throes of middle age, with copper skin and a lush beard. The

other man trailing behind was almost his polar opposite: a young man

with sickly pale skin and a melancholic demeanour, and silver hair

drawn together into a rough ponytail that cascaded down his back.

“A friend of yours, Koharu?”

“Um, of a sort. We attend lectures at the same community college-”

“She’s the Reaper, you know. Get too close, and she’ll steal your

soul.”

“Galahad! Shush!” Haruko was quick to meet the pale man’s

sardonic interjection with a quick rebuke; he acted nonplussed, but

said no more. She seemed very different from the way she usually came

across during class. However, more to the point…

They know I’m the Reaper… Wait, what? Galahad? He looks nothing

like that knight I saw onscreen… Although… Yes, that’s right. I

suppose he wouldn’t, would he?

“One of your classmates, eh? Well, why don’t we pull up some chairs

and get acquainted?” The middle-aged man spoke to Haruko –

Koharu, had he called her? Is that her real name, then? - with

odd familiarity. She nodded in assent, albeit a little hesitantly.

–

We moved over to a round table further inside the cafe. The

middle-aged man sat next to Koharu opposite Pran and I, with his

stout, hairy arms rested heavily on the table, grinning at the two of

us. He was dressed in a short-sleeved safari shirt and a pair of

shorts, and looked for all the world like a visiting tourist. The

intellectual air lent by his round-framed glasses made for a curious

contrast with the rest of his outfit.

Galahad sat at the side, leaning back disinterestedly on his chair.

He wore a deep purple – indigo? - dress shirt rolled up to

the elbows, and black skinny jeans. The shirt lay open at the collar

to reveal a chest even paler than his arms.

Their arrival at the cafe had caused an evident stir. The rest of the

customers had shrunk back from our table, and I could feel their

glances burning into me.

This is… awkward…

This must be life when you were a celebrity, a Grail Tournament

winner. Only a few minutes ago I had been overwhelmed by the terror and

panic of the serial killings, but for the time being those feeling

had been shut away firmly in a box and neatly shelved.

The man leaned forward with an amiable smile. “I must say, it came

as quite a shock to learn Koharu was classmates with the famous

Reaper.”

“Not as shocked as I am”, I replied. “It’s hard to believe I’m

sitting across the table from Hannibal of Carthage.”

I felt a little uncertain how to react to someone I had only just met

referring to me as the Reaper, but my words – and my respect -

were sincere. Even if I was talking to a participant in the Grail

Tournament.

“Hannibal’s the commander of the team I’ve been assigned to”,

Koharu supplied, a little hesitantly.

“Your team? You mean the next Tournament is going to be a team

battle?”

“Indeed it is.” Hannibal folded his arms with evident confidence.

“And the newest member of our team won the Rookie Tournament

handily. Our victory is all but assured.”

“H-Hannibal! I, um… I’m not… I’m not that good…” Koharu

shrank back, red-faced. I could hardly blame her. If a general as

famous as Hannibal had placed me so high in his estimation, I

probably would have done the same.

Don’t worry, I get it. Although it’s a bit of a surprise to see

that even you can look embarrassed once in a while.

“And I get to cart around the kid and her great-grandad. I’m

telling you now, I don’t do bedtime stories… or hospice care.”

Galahad chipped in with another snide remark, and Koharu rounded on

him again, teeth bared in a hissing snarl.

–

In tie, I learned that Hannibal’s Master was currently negotiating

conditions with members of other teams. Koharu had shown the trio to

this cafe during a break in the discussions. Expanding a Servant’s

range of independent action in this way was among the most common

uses of Command Seals.

The sheer volume of information flooding in from across the table was overwhelming, and it was difficult to know where to

even begin to reply. Until yesterday, I had barely even known what

the Grail Tournament was.

I cast a sidelong glance at the Knight of the Grail. He was

preoccupying himself with his meal in haughty silence, although I

noticed that he was only picking at his roast beef and

yorkshire pudding, and was focused primarily on his glass of red

wine. Again, the polar opposite of Hannibal’s healthy appetite. It

occurred to me that if Koharu had been attending the Pre-War Human

History lectures, Galahad had also likely been present in spirit

form. It was likely that he already knew me. We had probably passed

by each other any times without my knowing it.

“Planning to stare all day, Reaper? If you want a bite, you only

had to ask.” He made to push his plate towards me, and was only

stopped by Koharu’s grip on his arm.

I’m not sure I envy her this one.

–

Karin’s words from yesterday came back to me: “How sincere other

people are isn’t something you get to decide.”

Many Servants had gotten accustomed

to life in this new, peaceful world. However, others had spent their

entire lives on the battlefield, and dedicated themselves wholly to

the craft of war. It came down to the individual whether they had had

their fill of fighting or still lusted for blood.

Hannibal, it seemed, was the latter kind - which meant that was the

fate indicated to his Master by the Grail. The Grail Tournament was a

precious opportunity for such Servants to let themselves loose to their hearts’ content in pursuit of exhilaration and glory. I supposed

that was, in its own way, a kind of freedom.

But that’s not why Koharu is here. She isn’t like the rest of

them. She’s different somehow…

—-

The Grail Tournament was yet to officially publicise any information

regarding the background of one Koharu F. Riedenflaus, but my own

investigations had borne some modest fruit.

House Riedenflaus was a family of Magi associated with the

Clocktower, with its roots in the necromantic traditions. They were

low in status compared with the elite of the Magus Association, and

their history spanned only a few centuries. However, it seemed that

their longtime occupation of the seat at the foot of the

aristocratists’ table had been enough to grant them entry to the

city.

The promoter of the Grail Tournament was none other than this House

Riedenflaus. In other words, they were actively and brazenly flouting

the first precept of the Magus Association, the Concealment of the

Mysteries. I was curious as to how their mentality had evolved to

suit this new post-war world, but it was something else I uncovered

in the course of my investigations that had really drawn my interest:

that their family’s magic revolved around the creation of artificial

life forms, or homunculi.

Koharu’s youthful appearance had initially led me to assume that she

was a member of the next generation. However, now that I knew her

surname, I was beginning to wonder if it indicated something else

entirely.

–

Hannibal regaled us with anecdotes of his past exploits as we ate. I

listened, half fascinated and half starstruck, as he spoke with good

humour of the great defeat his army had faced on the field of battle.

The tale also seemed to have caught Pran’s interest, because he

listened cheerfully. Eventually, he chimed in with an unexpected

question.

“What’s a ‘war’?”

Not only myself, but Koharu, Hannibal and even Galahad stared at him

with mouths agape.

“What’s a 'war’?”, he repeated.

“Um, well… It’s a war, right? Like a battle?” I knew that

hardly constituted an answer, but I was at a loss as to how to

respond. The idea of a Servant ignorant of the very concept of war

had taken us all by surprise.

“Like killing?”

“That’s right. Lots of killing. More than you can ever imagine.”

Hannibal’s voice was composed, but his gaze was chilly through his

round-framed glasses. “And yet we humans never seem to tire of it.

It’s just a part of who we are.”

Not a single day in all of human history had passed devoid of war. A

Heroic Spirit who doesn’t know what war is? Impossible.

A part of me hoped for another sarcastic quip from Galahad –

anything to change the subject - but none were forthcoming. He sat

with mouth pursed firmly closed. The gazes drilling into Pran were beginning

to make me feel distinctly uneasy, and I hurriedly asked Hannibal for

another story of his time as a general. It was at times like this

that I appreciated Karin’s power to effortlessly lighten the mood.

–

A few minutes passed before I noticed that Koharu was gazing at her

lap in listless silence. I thought to call out to her, but my mouth

had only gotten half-open before her eyes suddenly snapped to me.

“Is something the matter?”

“Um, Miss Riedenflaus? I was wondering-”

She raised a hand to stop me. “Please just call me Koharu. I’m the

youngest here, after all.”

“I see.” My next question almost tumbled from my mouth before I

could stop it, but I managed to bite it back just in time.

What are you thinking? You can’t ask her that! What are you even

expecting her to say? “Why yes, I am a homunculus, thank you very

much for asking”?

It would have been bigoted, self-centred and an invasion of privacy

all in one. To probe people who had caught my interest for their weak

points was an unfortunate habit of mine.

“I… I saw footage of you fighting. At the Rookie Tournament.

Watching you fighting to the bitter end against an opponent like

that… It was amazing. I’m not sure I could do that even if I had

the strongest Servant in the world beside me.”

“Um… Thank you very much.” Koharu lowered her eyes, blushing

fiercely. “I know I got very lucky, but managing to win… made me

really happy…”

She gave a smile that was mostly bashful, although somewhere in there was a flicker of pride.

Watching her struggle to contain her delight, I could wish her only

the best. Half of what I had said had been borrowed from a certain

JK, but I had rewatched the video since, and my admiration was the

real thing.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. I was very rude to you.” She spoke

sheepishly, eyes fixed firmly on the fingertips she was pressing

together.

“Eh? Oh, that. Don’t sweat it. I get that you were in a hurry.”

“Thank you. I was in such a rush, it just kind of came out…”

This girl was modest to a fault – and perhaps that was that

sincerity, the warrior’s pride she displayed in spite of her age,

that invited me to lower my guard. Whatever the case, I got ahead of

myself, and asked something I would not even have put to Karin.

–

“I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

I wanted to know more about that armoured knight I had seen onscreen.

Perhaps, I wondered, there might be something I could learn from her

about my own curse.

“Could you tell me a little more about that “Possession” they

mentioned on the programme?”

“My Possession? I, um…” Koharu cast a hesitant glance at

Galahad.

“Now wait just a moment, you two.” For a while Hannibal had been

content just to watch us, but now he interrupted. I could see

half-chewed food still in his mouth as he spoke. “If you wish to

learn more of her abilities, you must see them for yourself. We are

not scribes, with pen and parchment. We are warriors, with sword and

spear and fist! Come to the Colosseum, Erice, and watch us do battle.

It should not be long before our next bout.”

“You mean you’re inviting her to spectate? Aren’t the tickets all

sold out? I suppose we could hope for cancellations, but there are

always so many people waiting…”

The notion of acquiring tickets through anything other than official

channels seemed to genuinely not have occurred to Koharu. Hannibal,

laughing heartily, informed her that there were always other ways.

And so, I ended up exchanging contact details with Koharu F.

Riedenflaus, the celebrity. She promised to inform me as soon as she

had gotten hold of tickets, although she seemed a little bewildered

by the way things had transpired. It was comforting to know I was not

the only one who felt that they had lost control of this

conversation.

At this point, there’s no way I can tell them I don’t really care

all that much about the Tournament…

–

For a while I phased out. In the end, it was Galahad who brought me

crashing back to reality.

“Spend too long entertaining the elderly and you’ll be one of them

before you know it, Reaper.”

“Um… Galahad?”

“If you’ve got something to ask, just ask it. Koharu’ll jump at the

chance to trade it for anything you’ve got on the Stigmata, I

guarantee it.”

Utter silence. For a moment I struggled for a response… and then,

with a clatter, Koharu grabbed her fork, lifted it, and drove it back

down towards the table with all her might. Directly in its path lay

Galahad’s hand. My and Pran’s eyes widened in shock. An attack from

an ordinary human would appear as though in slow-motion to a Servant,

and I felt sure that he would dodge it with ease, but as I watched it

became clearer and clearer that he had no intention of moving a

muscle.

Thud. The fork slammed down just between his fingers, with barely a

couple of millimetres to spare.

“You should learn some manners, my lady. Just look what you’ve done

to our round table.”

“…My apologies. I promise I’ll pay for it.”

Koharu apologised for her poor behaviour, and hung her head in

silence. Hannibal stood up, apparently unfazed by the discord between

his compatriots.

“I’m sorry, but I will have to depart. My master is calling for

me.”

The trio finished paid the proprietors for the damage to their table,

and left the shop.

—-

Left alone with Pran once more, I found myself wondering what sort of

person Hannibal’s Master might be. The two were bound together by the

fate indicated by the Grail. Would they be Hannibal’s equal, carefree

and bold? Or would they be his opposite, a stern, cold tactician?

Masters… and Servants…

Sometimes, like Koharu and Galahad, their relationship was impossible

to understand from the outside.

I tried to return to my previous train of thought about the Command

Seal Hunter, but something from the previous conversation continued

to niggle at me.

You’re being silly, Erice. Stop overthinking things.

There was no logical reason that they, likely the strongest warriors

in Mosaic City, had put me so ill at ease. But…

“If you’ve got something to ask, just ask it.” On the face of it,

Galahad had simply been referring to my questions about Koharu.

However, I felt something deeper there, something urging me on.

Maybe Chitose and Ms. Fujimura don’t want me involved in this,

but I can’t just sit here and do nothing.

On a sudden impulse, I left Pran in the care of the shopkeeper and

dashed out of the cafe.

–-

Luck was on my side, and I managed to catch up with the trio on the

road to the Colosseum. I flagged them down and came to a stop in

front of them, my breathing ragged.

“If you know I’m the Reaper… then let me at least give you a

warning.”

While keeping my voice low, conscious of being overheard by

passers-by, I told them everything I had just learned about the

Command Seal Hunter. About the mysterious, indiscriminate murders

that were even now being suppressed from the municipal information

network, and the Servants who had become collateral damage.

“If you want to know more, it’s all on this data drive.”

“Are you sure?”

I released the lock on the storage drive and replaced it with

Koharu’s personal signature. She extended out a grateful hand to take

it.

“Thank you.”

“No worries.”

I didn’t know if I had managed to fully convince them of the gravity

of the situation, but they had at least taken me seriously enough to

listen without bursting out in laughter.

“Even if no victims have yet been discovered in this ward, we

cannot risk any harm coming to spectators. It may be tricky, but I

will see about raising the matter with the security staff.”

“Thank you, Hannibal.”

“In any case, we cannot allow anything to interfere with Rome’s

downfall!” The general set his fingers to his chin and flashed a

brilliant smile.

“That sounds awfully confident for you of all Servants…”

“Wha…? Don’t tell me you’re a Rome supporter, Erice?!”

“Eh? But our next opponents aren’t even Roman.” Koharu cocked her

head, puzzled.

“Just ignore him.” Galahad’s tone was as sardonic as ever. “Start

giving old men the time of day and they’ll never shut up.”

“Please do come to the tournament, Erice.” With those parting

words, Koharu turned around and headed back towards the arena with

her companions. She did not look back.