Vol. 2 Chapter 62: Gilgamesh: Time to Chop Some Heads Off!

Watching Gilgamesh walk away with Kirei Kotomine and Arash in tow, exuding an aura of "Wind howls, old kings fall, time to draw my blade and wreck some fools," Mordred felt an unexpected surge of excitement.

She didn't quite understand it herself—but that feeling? The technical term would be "schadenfreude." More simply, she was just enjoying the show.

She fished out the little cellphone Kirie had bought for her and clumsily dialed a number—one connected by the magical means set up in Dracula's demonic castle.

The line rang a few times before it connected. Dracula's lazy voice filtered through, "Yeah?"

"Ah, Mr. Dracula," Mordred said into the phone. "I've got something going on tonight, so I won't be home for dinner."

"Dracula, who is it?" Kirie's voice could be heard faintly in the background.

"Oh, nothing. Mordred says she's not coming back for dinner tonight," he replied casually. "So make one less portion for her and Kiyohime."

Then he asked, "Did Kirie give you money for food?"

"Yes, she gave me more than enough," Mordred answered.

"Alright then. Do as you like. Just don't be out too late."

"Got it, Mr. Dracula," Mordred said and ended the call, her steps quickening as she caught up with the others.

Nero and Jeanne also gave Dracula a quick call before following after Mordred.

"You useless good-for-nothing! All you're capable of is running your mouth!"

Lancer Diarmuid lowered his head silently, enduring the verbal lashing in silence.

"All I asked was that you protect a single woman temporarily! And you failed even at that! What kind of 'knight' are you, huh?!"

Keyneth roared, spittle flying with each word. Today, accompanied by Enkidu, he had successfully acquired a new Command Seal from Father Risei. To ensure no other Masters could do the same, Keyneth had even pulled a revolver from his hidden wheelchair compartment and killed Risei on the spot.

Yet when he returned triumphantly to his newly secured base, Lancer reported—Sola had been abducted.

Though Kenneth had long since lost romantic interest in the fickle woman, the fact remained—Sola was his fiancée. The disgrace brought upon the Archibald family name made the incident intolerable.

For a traditional magus like Keyneth, this was beyond unforgivable.

"Please calm yourself, Master," Enkidu said gently.

Her voice helped soothe him somewhat. After a few deep breaths, Kenneth steadied himself and turned to Diarmuid.

"So, Lancer… do you have any leads on Sola?"

"I do. Due to our temporary contract, I was unable to track her magical signature. However, I found this where she vanished." Diarmuid bowed respectfully and held out a slip of paper.

Kenneth took the note and read it.

Tonight, 10 PM. Abandoned factory on the eastern outskirts of New City.

That night at 10 o'clock, a Mercedes-Benz rolled smoothly into the outskirts of Fuyuki's New City, parking in front of the same abandoned factory Kenneth once considered for a hideout.

Saber was behind the wheel, while Irisviel sat calmly in the passenger seat. After retrieving Arash's message as planned, Kiritsugu had returned the Avalon scabbard into Irisviel's body for safekeeping.

Strangely enough, Saber didn't object. Perhaps she, too, accepted this arrangement.

"Sigh… Why would Kiritsugu have us come out here so late?" Irisviel murmured. "Will Lancer's group really show up, just because we asked? What did Kiritsugu do…?"

"I don't know," Saber replied as she parked. "But I trust my Master has his reasons."

"I haven't had enough time to play with Saber," Irisviel pouted. "And I still wanted to watch that movie..."

"If you wish, I'll take you tomorrow," Saber said, gallantly opening the door for her.

"Really? Then it's a promise," Irisviel said sweetly as she took Saber's hand.

"A knight does not lie," Saber affirmed with a nod, escorting her into the factory.

"…Hm?" Saber halted just outside the building.

Understanding her cue, Irisviel let go of Saber's arm and stepped back.

In the still night, a handsome man appeared, holding a crimson spear—Lancer, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. His voice was heavy as he posed his question:

"Quite the place you picked, isn't it? Now—where is my Master's fiancée? Saber, don't tell me you have no idea."

Saber exchanged a glance with Irisviel, then replied with genuine confusion.

"I don't know… what happened?"

"…Never mind. Forget I asked."

Diarmuid let out a long sigh—one filled far more with relief than disappointment. As expected of this King of Knights. When it came to her conduct or intellect, she was not the sort who would stoop to such dishonorable tactics.

Then it must have been the other King of Knights—the one from last night who ordered another Archer to ambush those gathered at the riverbank. It was her Master who had issued that command.

That said, what stood before him now was a rare and perfect opportunity—a chance to settle things one-on-one with this King of Knights.

Saber clearly thought the same. Her entire form surged with powerful combat aura, her armor shifting as she completed her spirit weapon transformation. Clutching the Invisible Holy Sword in her hand, she stepped forward—cracking the concrete beneath her feet. With a fierce and resolute smile, she looked toward Diarmuid.

"I believe this is the perfect moment, Lancer. There's still time before dawn. If we miss this golden chance, who knows how long it'll be before we can face each other without reserve or distraction. I don't think we should let it pass—what do you say, Lancer?"

Lancer—whose face had until now been clouded by worry—finally broke into a faint smile.

"Saber… Yours is the only untainted spirit that can stir a refreshing breeze within my troubled heart."

Only one spear remained in his hands. There was no more need for probing attacks. Gripping it with both hands, Diarmuid spun it in a wide arc before resting it behind his back. Saber, too, released the Wind King Barrier from her blade—after all, against the magic-piercing Crimson Rose, it would only drain mana needlessly.

"Your Yellow Rose was broken by knightly justice. That is why I shall not use my left hand again," Saber said, holding her sword with one hand. "Please do not misunderstand—if I were to use my left, the guilt would dull my blade. And against your impeccable spearwork, that would be a fatal mistake."

"Saber… I was right about you after all... The King's sword shines with glory. I'm honored to cross blades with you," Diarmuid replied with a smile full of burning resolve.

Raising his spear, Diarmuid pointed it at Saber.

"Diarmuid Ua Duibhne of the Knights of Fianna—prepares to engage!"

"Well met!" Saber raised her blade in return, taking her stance with a soft smile. "Artoria Pendragon, King of Britain—answers your challenge!"

The two dashed forward, blades flashing as they clashed in a shower of sparks—the kind born only between warriors who shared the same ideals and the same burning passion for battle.

Off to the side, Mordred bit into a sweet bun, her eyes fixed on the fierce duel between her father and the other knight. Her blood was pumping at the sight—but tonight, that wasn't her primary reason for coming.

Turning her gaze, she looked to her side. Beside her stood Gilgamesh, clad in golden armor, arms crossed, her killing intent palpable as she glared at the far end of the abandoned factory.

There, Enkidu was slowly wheeling Kenneth into the ruined building.