Everyone took their seats. The haughty Gilgamesh surveyed the surroundings, then furrowed his brow.
"Such a meager place! How can this possibly befit a banquet for kings!"
"Hahaha, Goldie, this place is already quite decent. There aren't any castles nearby, so just have a drink first."
Iskandar paid no mind to Gilgamesh's complaint and instead offered him a cup of wine. The others had all witnessed Gilgamesh's arrogance, but surprisingly, the golden king downed the wine in one gulp. This was a silent contest at the drinking table, and Gilgamesh could not refuse.
"Such wretched wine! How can it be offered to kings?" Gilgamesh wore a look of utter disdain.
"What are you saying? I searched for this wine for ages!"
"Conqueror, don't be stubborn about this," Arthur chuckled. "I'm afraid there truly isn't any wine in this world better than his." Arthur spoke from experience, vividly remembering the taste of Drunken Truth's Wine.
"Of course, my wine is the finest in all the world." Hearing Arthur's praise, Gilgamesh seemed pleased.
With a snap of his fingers, golden ripples appeared around him. Several Masters tensed, fearing a barrage of Noble Phantasms, but the Servants remained calm—trusting that Gilgamesh, as a king, would not resort to underhanded tactics.
A shimmering golden flask materialized in his hand.
"Savor this well; this is the true 'fine wine'."
The flask radiated an aura of excellence.
"Gil, you're such a miser," Arthur remarked, unsatisfied. No matter how good this wine was, it was still mortal wine. What he truly desired was the legendary Drunken Truth's Wine!
"Just drink what you have!" Gilgamesh retorted, annoyed. Unbeknownst to Arthur, after their last encounter, that particular Noble Phantasm had been discarded into some forgotten corner of the treasury.
The others, never having tasted Drunken Truth's Wine, accepted their cups without complaint.
"What fragrant wine!" Iskandar inhaled deeply, recognizing its aged quality.
Arthur took a sip—rich, mellow, and exquisite. Truly befitting of Gilgamesh's collection.
"Delicious! This wine is extraordinary!"
A satisfied smile spread across Gilgamesh's face.
"Of course. My collection consists solely of the most precious artifacts in existence. This is the proof of a king's treasury."
She glanced at Arthur, noticing a flicker of regret on his face, and nearly leapt up in anger.
What is that expression? Is my wine truly that inferior? Has drinking spoiled your palate? Fine, see if I ever offer you another drop!
Suppressing the urge to unleash Ea, Gilgamesh reminded herself of their improved relationship. Arthur possessed a wealth of "experience" even Enkidu lacked, offering a unique connection. Unbeknownst to Arthur, she had accumulated significant favor with the King of Heroes.
"Goldie, your wine is indeed fine. However, our discussion revolves around whether we possess the capacity to bear the Holy Grail. Thus, we shall now engage in the Holy Grail Inquiry. Demonstrate your kingly caliber—prove your worthiness."
"Heh, worthy or unworthy? Such ignorance."
"What do you mean?" Iskandar frowned.
"You speak as if you and your ilk are entitled to vie for my possessions. What audacity! All treasures in this world rightfully belong to me. Time has merely scattered them temporarily."
"Are you saying the Holy Grail is already yours?"
"Not quite." Gilgamesh shook her head. "You could never comprehend the extent of my treasury. But one thing is certain—any object of value is mine by right."
Artoria wore a helpless expression, as if staring at a madman.
"What a fool."
"No, Artoria, he's not mad," Arthur corrected, pouring Gilgamesh another cup. "Given his identity, his words are not unwarranted."
"I think I'm starting to understand," Iskandar nodded.
Sola and Irisviel listened intently, curiosity evident.
"Gilgamesh! King of Uruk, the oldest king in this world—the King of Heroes!"
"What?!" Artoria's eyes widened. If true, his claims were justified.
Irisviel looked puzzled. Waver kindly elaborated:
"In an age when humanity was sparse, this king ruled with extravagance, amassing all the world's treasures. His treasury holds not only the prototypes of legendary swords but also the demonic blades that felled heroes. Thus, he is the 'King of All Heroes.' Ordinary Servants stand no chance against him. Many bear the title of king, but only he reigns supreme over all heroes."
"So, he truly possesses all treasures?"
"Indeed," Waver confirmed.
Ignoring the stunned reactions, the banquet continued.
"Goldie, if you agree, may I possess the Holy Grail?"
"Perhaps—if you prove worthy. My treasures are reserved for friends or subjects." Gilgamesh surveyed them. "Arthur, as my friend, is entitled. But you two..." Her gaze lingered on Iskandar and Artoria. "Become my consorts and subjects, and I may consider it."
"Gilgamesh! This jest is in poor taste!" Artoria's face flushed with anger.
"Indeed, one does not covet a friend's wife!" Arthur retorted, oblivious to Artoria's crimson cheeks. She slapped his back, and he realized his slip, embarrassed.
"Hahahaha! King Arthur fancies Knight King!" Iskandar roared with laughter.
"Is it strange? Isn't Artoria the one who complements me most in this world?"
The others pondered this—except Gilgamesh.
"What?! You truly like her?!" The King of Heroes was stunned.
"Gil, why the surprise?"
"Hmph!" Gilgamesh turned away. Arthur glanced at Artoria, who averted her gaze, flustered. Though no longer young, this was likely the first time someone had confessed to her so directly.
Sensing the tension, Iskandar changed the subject.
"Goldie, you have no desire for the Holy Grail, correct?"
"None. Yet it remains mine."
"Then why?"
"A matter of principle." Gilgamesh's voice was firm. "A king must uphold his sovereignty."
Iskandar nodded. "You are truly a king! But I am the King of Conquerors—I seize what I desire!"
"Heh. Attempt it, and face my judgment."
Arthur watched them, conflicted. The Grail was no blessing—yet revealing its corruption might breed distrust. So he remained silent, resigned to their rivalry.
(To be continued...)
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