After finishing his bath, Roy changed into lightweight clothing, donned a black trench coat, and tucked talismans inscribed with runes close to his body. Fully armed, he headed to the front courtyard to wait for Rin Tohsaka to rendezvous with him.
Because Hayasaka was staying at his place, the two had agreed to meet at the Aozaki residence before heading outside the city to hunt the Corrupted Servants.
However—
"Master!"
Okita Souji suddenly materialized beside Roy, her expression grave.
"A Servant is approaching!"
"I can sense it."
"Could it be Lady Tohsaka's Servant?"
"Unlikely."
Roy shook his head, his gaze sharp.
"This mana has a twisted feel to it—too much resentment. It doesn't seem like the kind of Servant someone as righteous as Rin would summon. Saber, move outside the estate and prepare for battle!"
"Yes!"
Souji vanished in an instant.
Roy also stepped forward, heading toward the gate.
With the summons having just been issued today, it wasn't surprising that his identity as a Master had been exposed. By now, every magus in Fuyuki City likely knew he was one of the participants in this Holy Grail War.
But at this moment—who would come to his doorstep?
And for what purpose?
Bazett?
Here to confirm whether he was the one who infiltrated the Great Hollow that night?
No. While Bazett wasn't exactly a saint, she was straightforward by nature. The Servant she summoned shouldn't carry such intense resentment.
This level of malice was less like a Heroic Spirit and more like an Anti-Heroic Spirit.
As his thoughts raced—
Roy stepped outside the estate.
Souji stood ready on the road outside, her stance firm.
Opposite her, a pitch-black figure slowly approached from the distance.
The moment Roy appeared, the figure's gaze snapped toward him as if sensing his presence.
For a brief instant—
Their eyes met.
And in that moment, both of their expressions changed.
"Ha! Ha! Hahahahahahahaha—!"
The figure suddenly burst into a fit of hysterical laughter.
His voice was hoarse and grating, filled with grief and bitterness.
"It's you! It really is you! Outside the city hall, I thought my eyes were deceiving me—but here you are, you traitor!"
The shadowy figure was wrapped in filthy, tattered bandages, as if they hadn't been changed in years. His body was clad in broken armour, and his voice was as dry and hollow as a corpse's.
The moment Souji got a clear look at him, her eyes widened slightly.
She recognized this man!
No—not exactly.
She had seen this old man twice before… in her Master's dreams.
That's right.
This man's appearance was identical to the old man in her Master's dreams who had accused him!
No—it was the same person!
But in the dream, she had clearly seen her Master kill this old man.
Her Master had slaughtered every last person on that mountain—over thirty men, women, and children—before leaving.
She had seen it happen in the dream!
Yet this old man was still alive.
A ghost?
No, he was undoubtedly human. Though his body was steeped in curse-like resentment, his breathing and body heat were unmistakably real.
So… had he faked his death to deceive her Master?
Had he come now for revenge?
"So you're still alive, you old bastard."
Her Master's voice came from behind her, cold as frost.
Souji glanced back.
Roy had removed his glasses at some point.
And on his face was a smile so vicious it sent a shiver down her spine.
Up until now, her Master had seemed eccentric but fundamentally a good person in her eyes.
But this smile—one that could rival the cruelty of a demon—was something she had never seen from him before.
It completely shattered her image of him.
'Ah… right.'
'I'm just a ruthless executioner. A Master who summons me through compatibility is obviously not normal.'
Souji thought to herself.
She remembered when she had first been summoned in the Great Hollow, walking through that cursed mist.
Her very soul had felt shaken.
Yet her Master had remained utterly unfazed, as if the curses meant nothing to him.
Even then, she had already formed an impression of him.
Either a genius… or a madman.
Now, it was clear.
Roy was a madman.
Just one who hid it well.
"Saber."
"Yes!"
"Kill him. Slice him to pieces."
"Yes!"
Souji didn't hesitate.
She took a step forward, her blade pointed at the armoured old man dozens of paces away.
What kind of person her Master was didn't matter to her.
Because their bond was forged through compatibility—a relationship built on mutual trust.
So, as Okita Souji, she would believe in her Master unconditionally!
The girl lunged forward, her movements swift as a hunting leopard. In the blink of an eye, she crossed the asphalt road and closed in on the old man, her blade aiming for the tendons in his legs.
The armoured elder didn't react, as if frozen in shock.
The glint of her sword flashed, mere inches from his flesh—
But then, Souji's expression twisted.
She pivoted mid-step, abruptly changing direction and leaping away from the old man.
CRACK—!
The next instant, the ground erupted like lava.
Asphalt shattered, stones flew, and a blazing inferno burst from beneath the earth, forming a wall of flame in front of the armoured man.
Souji landed a distance away, her gaze sharp.
Had she been even slightly slower, she would have been engulfed in those cursed flames—burned alive.
And this wasn't ordinary fire.
It was cursed flame, saturated with malice.
A single touch, and escape would be nearly impossible.
"A Servant?"
Souji's expression hardened.
This cursed fire, brimming with resentment—there was no mistaking it.
This was the Servant she had sensed earlier.
Was this the old man's Servant?
Was this armoured elder one of the two remaining Masters who hadn't shown themselves yet?
"Come forth, Lancer!"
The hunched old man raised his right hand.
Three crimson Command Spells, burning like embers, were revealed on his skin.
After his command, silence lingered for a moment—before a Servant's form gradually materialized before them.
A twisted figure.
Endless malice coiled around her body, and flickering black flames took the shape of solidified curses.
Through the cursed fire, her face could barely be seen—silent, expressionless.
She appeared no older than seventeen or eighteen, with silver hair cut short at her shoulders and piercing dark-gold eyes that held no warmth.
Black armour covered a nun's habit, and a fur-lined mantle was bound to her body by chains. The absolute territory between her black thigh-highs and skirt swayed faintly under the cursed flames, obscured yet tantalizing.
This figure—
Roy absolutely recognized her.
***
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