Under the dark veil of night, the Einzbern Castle lay quiet and still, the deep blackness pierced only by the faint glow of the moonlight. Yet the marks of battle scattered across the landscape betrayed the turmoil that had so recently engulfed the area.
The once meticulously restored castle had now been reduced to ruins. Even if Irisviel wished to renovate it again, it was beyond repair—especially since the maids she'd brought from her family estate had long since fled back home to escape the war.
Thankfully, a few of the guest rooms had remained intact. Within one of them, Maiya Hisau was resting. In the battle earlier, she and Irisviel had stood together to protect Kiritsugu against perhaps the most dangerous Master in this Holy Grail War—Kotomine Kirei.
Maiya had been gravely injured, and Irisviel had nearly lost her life. It was only thanks to Avalon, the legendary sheath dwelling within her, that she was still standing, seemingly unscathed.
RUMBLE!!
Suddenly, a roar of thunder cracked through the air, emanating from the outer edge of the forest. A wave of dizziness swept over Irisviel, and her exhausted body nearly collapsed from the shock. It could only mean one thing—the barrier encircling the forest had been forcefully breached.
"Wh-What's going on…? A direct assault?!"
Before she could hit the ground, a pair of strong, reassuring arms caught her. Saber had arrived in the nick of time, steadying her with a protective embrace.
"Are you alright, Irisviel?" she asked, her voice gentle yet firm.
"I'm fine… just startled. I didn't expect a guest so… direct."
"I'll go meet them. Stay by my side," Saber said, supporting her.
Irisviel gave a small nod and followed behind, clinging to Saber's arm like a bashful bride.
Once outside and down the stairs of the ruined castle, their suspicions were confirmed.
A red-haired muscular man stood atop a thunderous chariot, a trembling young man in tow, grinning ear to ear as he laughed boisterously. It was none other than the King of Conquerors—Iskandar.
"Oi, King of Knights! I came all this way to see you! Come on out, eh?" he bellowed, hoisting a massive barrel over one shoulder.
Saber and Irisviel hurried closer, only to freeze mid-step at the sight of what he was wearing.
A white T-shirt, tight against his rippling muscles, the front boldly printed with the words "Grand Strategy."
What should have been a loose shirt was now skin-tight, clinging to his bulk as though ready to explode at any second.
"Yo, Saber! I heard there was a castle here, so I came to have a look—what happened to it, hmm?" Iskandar said casually, completely unbothered by the devastation.
"And hey, why do you always wear that stiff old armor? Why not try on something modern, like this?" he added with a grin, striking a bodybuilder's pose.
"…Rider. What are you doing here?" Saber asked, her voice weary. After dealing with her unruly "child" earlier, she had no energy left to spare.
"Isn't it obvious? I came to drink with you!" Iskandar proclaimed proudly. "Come on, don't just stand there. Lead the way, will ya? Got any open courtyards fit for a banquet? The inside of this place is all dust and rubble—not ideal."
Resigned, Saber and Irisviel led their uninvited guest to the castle's outdoor garden.
Iskandar plopped down into a seat, muttering a few nonsense remarks before he cheerfully punched open the lid of his wine barrel, scooped up a ladleful of wine with a bamboo dipper, and took a hearty gulp.
Then, with the same enthusiasm, he handed the dipper to Saber.
Without hesitation, Saber accepted the drink, filled it again, and downed it in one smooth, gallant motion.
Iskandar let out a hearty laugh and said cheerfully:
"I've heard only those who are truly worthy can obtain the Holy Grail."
"Then first, you're proposing a contest of strength between us, Rider?" Saber met his gaze with a sharp tone.
"Exactly. A true duel in the name of kingship. But then again, calling this a 'Holy Grail War' doesn't quite fit. Maybe it should be the 'Holy Grail Debate'? In the end, who will be crowned the 'King of the Grail'—the King of Knights or the King of Conquerors? That kind of question... is perfect for a wine cup to answer."
At this point, the King of Conquerors suddenly dropped his serious tone and, with a mischievous grin, added:
"Speaking of which, I ran into two other folks claiming to be 'kings' on the way here. Though one little girl insisted she was an 'emperor' or something."
"Enough with the jokes, Conqueror King."
With a flash of gold, Gilgamesh made his dazzling entrance.
"Indeed. To think someone can't even distinguish between a king and an emperor." A haughty voice joined in. Dressed in a regal white gown, Nero also appeared, followed by Mordred, Jeanne d'Arc, and lastly Dracula, who wore a look that all but screamed "Can I go home now?"
Mordred looked at Saber but, rather unusually, said nothing and instead silently sat down as far from her as possible.
The King of Conquerors handed his drinking vessel to Nero, who took a bold swig, then passed it to Gilgamesh.
"This tastes awful."
"Indeed."
Gilgamesh agreed after taking a sip, wiping the corner of his mouth.
"Really? I bought it from the market here. Thought it wasn't bad."
The King of Conquerors scratched his chin, puzzled.
"That's because you clearly know nothing about wine."
Gilgamesh sat down.
"Just look at you—bet you never tasted real wine when you were alive."
"Yeah, your whole rugged vibe screams 'cheap liquor'." Nero added as she sat.
One by one, everyone took their seats, and Dracula casually pulled out a handheld gaming console and began mashing away at the buttons.
"What's that you've got?"
The two resident gaming nerds, Iskandar and Gilgamesh, instantly honed in on Dracula's console.
"Picked it up on the way here. It's called a PSP."
Dracula muttered.
"Though, I gotta say... the tech tree in this world is kinda janky. It's this era, and they already have PSPs and laptops? Not that I'm complaining—it's convenient for me."
When he looked up, he found Gilgamesh and Iskandar standing behind him, staring intently at the game screen over his shoulder.
"Heh heh heh. Hey—eyes up front!"
Dracula rapped the floor with his knuckles.
"Aren't you guys in the middle of a debate here?"
"Ahem."
Gilgamesh and Iskandar sheepishly returned to their seats. Gil then summoned a lavish set of goblets inlaid with dazzling gems from the void. Inside the heavy golden bottle was a clear, colorless liquid.
"Behold, the Wine of Kings."
Trying to gloss over her earlier embarrassment, Gilgamesh proclaimed with smug satisfaction.
"Oh, I'm touched."
The King of Conquerors took the bottle without a care, poured four glasses, and distributed them among the four sovereigns.
"Mmm, exquisite!"
He took a sip and praised.
"Yes, this is what real wine should taste like," Nero agreed.
"This stuff's divine—no way humans made it," Iskandar said with admiration.
"Of course. Whether wine or weapons, only the finest are permitted in my treasury. That's a king's taste."
Gilgamesh spoke proudly, then turned toward Dracula, who was still glued to his game.
"So, how about this—I'll trade you this bottle of royal wine for your console."
Dracula glanced at her and replied,
"Thanks, but I'm not really into alcohol."
He narrowed his eyes.
"I usually drink blood."