"Well then, we'll be off now," Dracula said, waving a hand behind him.
"Take care," Kirie called after them gently.
Behind her, Kiyohime and Elizabeth looked on with bitter reluctance.
"Come on, Mordred." Dracula led the casually dressed, boyish-looking Mordred out of the castle, heading downhill toward the heart of Fuyuki City.
"Mr. Dracula, where are we going?" Mordred asked brightly as she skipped beside him.
Dracula gave it some thought. Mordred may have been raised like a boy, but deep down, she must still have a girl's heart somewhere in there. He recalled the women of Castlevania—Kirie, Elizabeth, Kiyohime, Nero, even the saintly Jeanne—all loved going shopping.
The only difference was in spending habits: Elizabeth and Nero were reckless spenders, buying whatever caught their eye; Kirie and Kiyohime were at least selective about their purchases; and Jeanne… she was the true definition of a saint—she just looked and never bought.
If Kirie hadn't practically forced two new outfits on her, Jeanne might still be wearing that girl's old spirit vessel clothes.
With that in mind, Dracula made his decision.
"We'll start with the shopping street," he told Mordred. "Buy whatever you want."
Dracula regretted it almost immediately.
He quickly realized Mordred had zero interest in the pretty clothes or accessories in the windows. Instead, she was drawn to the most rugged, boyish things she could find.
Case in point: the jackets and jeans Dracula was now carrying for her, and the Harley-Davidson motorcycle she was currently fawning over with stars in her eyes.
Mordred looked up at him, eyes sparkling.
Dracula sighed, reached into his coat… and pulled out his freshly minted credit card.
After finally convincing Mordred to climb off her brand-new Harley, Dracula warped all their purchases back to Castlevania via portal magic.
Before heading to their next destination, he checked the sky and saw that it was nearly noon. Spotting a nearby restaurant, he decided it was time to grab some lunch.
After circling the area twice, he stumbled upon a well-decorated Chinese restaurant.
A wave of nostalgia hit him—after all, his previous life had ended more than a thousand years ago. For old time's sake, he led Mordred into the place. Luckily, the kid wasn't picky; she ate everything. Dracula didn't need to worry about whether Chinese food would suit the English girl's tastes.
The moment Dracula stepped into the Chinese restaurant named "Red Continent Banquet Hall," he immediately spotted a familiar face.
Gilgamesh—dressed in a new, high-end leather jacket—was sitting inside with her legs crossed. Across from her sat a priest with an expression as blank as a mask, rapidly shoveling spoonfuls of bright red food into his mouth.
That emotionless priest, judging from what Dracula had seen earlier, should be Tohsaka Tokiomi's apprentice—the Master of those Assassin-class Servants who had been utterly destroyed by the King of Conquerors, Iskandar.
"Yo, Gilgamesh! What are you doing here?" Dracula walked up and patted her on the shoulder.
"Oh, it's you, Dracula." Gilgamesh turned to glance at him, then looked back at the red dish in front of the priest with clear disdain in her eyes.
"Whoa, Mapo Tofu, huh? Brings back memories." Dracula leaned over to take a look at what the priest was eating.
"You actually recognize it? I can't believe such disgusting food exists in this world." Gilgamesh grimaced in revulsion.
"You hate it that much?" Dracula raised an eyebrow at her.
"Of course I do. It's got an absurdly intense spicy flavor, and the next day it always... cough, never mind," Gilgamesh replied. "I truly wonder what kind of person could've invented it."
"Chinese people," Dracula said with a shrug. He took a seat at the table next to Gilgamesh, along with Mordred. "Shame, I used to really enjoy that stuff."
Kirei Kotomine nodded in agreement upon hearing that.
"I really don't get how your taste buds work," Gilgamesh muttered.
After placing their order, Dracula and Mordred chatted while waiting for the food. Out of curiosity, Mordred had also ordered a plate of Mapo Tofu to try.
It turned out, the kid really was the child of Artoria Pendragon—she couldn't handle spicy food, just like her father.
---
After the meal, through casual conversation with Gilgamesh, Dracula learned that she too was in the business of "education."
But whereas Dracula was raising an adorable child like Mordred, Gilgamesh had taken on the task of enlightening a priest who looked as if the entire world owed him money—Kirei Kotomine.
"What a shame. I'd actually hoped to guide him into becoming a delightful companion," Gilgamesh sighed. "But Enkidu gave me a whole speech yesterday, telling me to lead him onto the path of righteousness. So I've no choice but to try."
According to Gilgamesh, this priest named Kotomine Kirei had been born without the ability to feel normal human emotions. His wife had even committed suicide in front of him, hoping to awaken his sense of empathy. The man, it seemed, found joy only in acts considered "evil" by others. However, he understood his divergence from humanity and had been trying to restrain himself for years, hence his constant deadpan expression.
"You really think you can straighten him out?" Dracula asked skeptically.
"More or less. He does seem to have preferences, like his love for Mapo Tofu. Worst case, I'll just use a Noble Phantasm to brainwash him," Gilgamesh replied, spreading her hands. "No choice. Enkidu asked for it. I've gotta get this guy on the right track, whether he likes it or not."
"Well then, how about teaming up with me?" Dracula offered. "I'm raising a problematic child myself."
"Sounds interesting," Gilgamesh replied, visibly intrigued.
---
As the sun set, Dracula and Gilgamesh sat together on a bench beside a soccer field along the Mion River in Fuyuki City, watching a game unfold on the field.
On the field, Kotomine Kirei and Mordred were each leading a team of children in a spirited soccer match.
"This is what you call 'education'?" Gilgamesh asked coolly.
"Yep. According to Nero, this is supposed to train Mordred's leadership skills," Dracula shrugged. "She says a true king must be able to rally the people."
"I won't argue with that," Gilgamesh said. Then she asked, "But what does this do for that Mapo priest?"
"Uh…" Dracula scratched his head. "Maybe… trying to get him to like children?"
"Hmm... I swear, you must be Vlad the Impaler in disguise," Gilgamesh muttered. "And we're just going to sit here and watch?"
"Of course. Doesn't matter to me. Even if a fight breaks out, that priest's no match for Mordred," Dracula said confidently.
As if to affirm Dracula's cursed luck stat, the moment he finished speaking, Kotomine made a child on Mordred's team cry.
Enraged, Mordred leapt into "big sister mode" and charged after the priest to deliver justice.
Realizing he couldn't outrun a Servant, Kotomine used the most effective defensive technique available to mankind:
He crouched down on the spot and covered his vital areas with both hands.
"Stop them before she kills him!" Dracula yelled as he rushed forward.
Gilgamesh followed close behind, muttering as she ran, "You know, your real name has got to be Vlad III."