The two Servants stood facing each other in the field, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a sword. But at that moment, a brilliant flash of lightning streaked across the silent night sky—like a falling star tearing through the darkness.
"What is that?"
Both Artoria Pendragon and Diarmuid Ua Duibhne looked up instinctively, eyes locked on the source of the sudden light. Even Arthur raised his gaze to the heavens.
"Oh? That light... seems like someone flashy is making an entrance."
From the distant horizon, something rapidly approached—an object flying through the air, wreathed in crackling blue and violet lightning.
Irisviel, the inexperienced newcomer, stared in awe, completely dumbfounded.
"Is that... a bull?!"
Shock swept over the field. What soared through the sky wasn't a meteor, but a massive chariot pulled by two mighty bulls. Not ordinary ones—but divine beasts racing across the sky with nothing beneath their hooves but pure, destructive lightning.
The magic radiating from the lightning was overwhelming. Only a Noble Phantasm of the highest caliber could contain such immense magical energy. This wasn't something that belonged to a mere human. No—this heralded the arrival of a heroic spirit of staggering power!
"So much magical energy... terrifying."
An ancient chariot, summoned in a storm of power... Who could it belong to?
The chariot roared overhead, lightning crackling like a divine trumpet. Arthur narrowed his eyes, jaw twitching.
"Tch... this idiot's making a bigger entrance than me!"
Irritated, Arthur discreetly summoned Invisible Air, forming an unseen barrier directly in front of the charging chariot. Though it couldn't possibly harm such a powerful Noble Phantasm, it might trip it up for just a moment.
And it did.
The chariot dipped, veering off course before slamming into the earth with a thunderous crash, sending dirt and debris flying.
"Cough! Cough! You lot—cough! Stop causing trouble!"
The rider emerged from the dust, coughing dramatically—not from pain, but pure showmanship.
Artoria sighed and turned a sharp look toward Arthur, clearly sensing he was behind the interruption.
Arthur, of course, feigned innocence and admired the horizon.
Then came the booming voice:
"I am the King of Conquerors! Iskandar—Alexander the Great!! Do not act rudely in my presence!"
The man stood tall and proud, his voice echoing like a lion's roar.
Everyone, even the Servants, stood in stunned silence.
What kind of heroic spirit immediately reveals their True Name like that?!
The only one more stunned than the rest was Waver Velvet, the young Master of Rider. He looked like his soul had left his body.
"Wh-what the hell are you saying, you idiot?!"
Waver rushed over, grabbing Iskandar's cloak and yanking it in frustration.
"Humph." With just a low grunt, Waver froze, paralyzed by the overwhelming presence radiating from the towering king.
Arthur couldn't help but think to himself, With the way Waver clings to Iskandar like that, the 'Princess' nickname really isn't too far off...
Iskandar turned to face the group of Servants and Masters with arms wide open.
"Fellow heroic spirits! I, Iskandar, King of Conquerors, have come to participate in this Holy Grail War. If any of you are willing to offer me the Grail, I will gladly share its blessings with you!"
Everyone blinked in disbelief.
No... way.
They were completely dumbfounded. What kind of ridiculous proposal is that?!
But Iskandar wasn't done.
He was truly a larger-than-life figure—one who didn't hesitate to reveal his identity or ambitions. Yet, no one thought he was lying. A heroic spirit wouldn't stoop to deception about their own legend.
"I admire your boldness," Diarmuid said with a faint smile. "But I already have a king I serve. I cannot grant the Grail to another."
He raised his eyes, gleaming with unwavering loyalty.
"I will present the Holy Grail to my sovereign alone. King of Conquerors—you are not that man."
"Do not interfere with our duel," Artoria added sharply. "This is a matter of knights."
Her irritation was palpable. A fair and noble duel was sacred to her, and Iskandar's intrusion was an affront.
Iskandar rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.
"So you're both against me?"
"Annoying!" the two snapped in unison.
"Let me make one thing clear," Artoria said with cold conviction. "As the King of Britain, I will never submit to you!"
"Oh? King of Britain?" Iskandar blinked in surprise. Then he laughed. "Wait—you're King Arthur? This little girl?"
His booming laughter echoed through the night.
"Haha! Then let me see the strength of the famed King of Knights!"
Artoria didn't respond with words—only action. She raised her invisible sword once more, and a massive surge of wind pressure gathered at its edge.
"So... the negotiations have failed. How disappointing," Iskandar muttered, watching her power rise.
Meanwhile, from behind the chariot, a small figure emerged—Waver, rubbing his bruised head.
"Ow! That hurt... that really hurt!"
"See?" Waver shouted, pointing accusingly at Iskandar. "You're always doing stuff like this! You're the worst!"
He stomped over and began lightly slapping Iskandar's armor in frustration. The Conqueror just laughed.
"How do you know unless you try?"
"Try?! TRY?!"
Waver looked like he might cry as he continued pummeling his Servant ineffectively.
Watching the two bicker, Arthur sighed.
"When I imagined the Conqueror King, I thought of a ruthless tyrant—someone overwhelming and regal. But now, seeing him in the flesh…"
He trailed off.
"…his IQ seems... questionable."
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