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In the cemetary of the Stavropoleos Church in Bucharest, Shishigou Kairi has also succeeded in summoning his Servant.

"...So you're my Master, then?"

A knight of small stature, covered head to toe in armor, asked this of him. The knight's clear and unclouded voice reached him even through the helm. Shishigou nodded and thrust his hand out.

"Shishigou Kairi. I'll be your Master. Looking forward to it."

"...Is this a graveyard? What a despicable place to summon me."

The knight ignored the hand Shishigou held out. Scratching his head, Shishigou began to explain his choice.

"Yeah, well... this is kind of like home ground to me."

"You were born in a grave?"

"My younger days were spent with corpses."

Having heard this, the knight nodded in understanding.

"I see... you are a necromancer."

"Spot on. And you're Saber, right?"

Shishigou asked, seeing the sword held by the knight.

"Isn't it obvious? You must have poor eyes and a poorer mind if you see me as a Caster or Assassin."

"Not that there's anything wrong with an assassin who clangs through the front door wearing a set of armor, in my opinion..."

It seems that such assassins existed as well.

"...Could it be that I have been summoned by a fool?"

"Not a chance. You just got summoned by the best Master there is, Saber. What I'm saying is, this Shishigou Kairi is a first-class Master and perfectly capable of commanding you."

"Hmm... I suppose a good command is well enough, even if it is only over your own tongue."

"Well then, Saber, can you tell me your true name first? Actually... why can't I see all of your parameters even though I'm your Master?"

Normally, a Master would be able to acquire some degree of information when faced with a Servant - valuable data such as physical strength and endurance, and any skill they might have. Details on their innate skills and Noble Phantams would naturally not be available until they have been visually confirmed once, but what is there is still priceless for organizing one's strategies.

And of course, the first Servant a Master can visually confirm is the one they summoned. By understanding their specifications, they can make plans on how to wage their war.

However, while Shishigou can confirm the basic parameters of the knight before him, the personality of the Heroic Spirit, its innate skills, and data on its Noble Phantasm, are all hidden from him and cannot be read.

"This helm, most likely. I'll take it off."

Saber said, and the face-covering helm split and merged with the armor. When she revealed her face, Shishigou could not close his opened mouth.

"You're a girl...?"

No, perhaps he was a boy. In any case, the knight had quite a youthful appearance. This was so unexpected that Shishigou let his words slip out without thinking, and did not notice the knight's mood immediately worsening.

"Do not say that again."

"Say... what?"

Her chilling, murderous growl brought Shishigou back down to earth.

"Call me that again, and I will be unable to restrain myself."

The glint in her eyes told him of her killing intent. Shishigou's instinct whispered to him that she was serious.

"...Okay, my bad. I won't say it again."

Raising both hands into the air, Shishigou gave a frank apology. Despite the anger twisting her face, Saber managed to restore her mood. Taking a deep breath, she muttered with a somewhat sulky expression.

"I forgive you. And do not ever raise this topic for discussion again. Remember that."

"Got it. So then, what's your true name-"

"Hm? What is this, Master? I don't know what catalyst you used, but you called for me specifically, didn't you? Why would I need to tell you..."

"Ah, no, this was my catalyst."

Slowly backing away from the dissolving magic ward, Shishigou tossed her the catalyst. Saber looked quizzically at the thing she caught in her hand.

"And this is?"

"It's from the Round Table. The one you knights used."

In an instant, Saber's recently recovered mood plummeted. With a tut, she held her sword to it - that holy relic which would likely never appear again in the world - and slashed it apart.

"...Uhh."

Having literally reduced it to splinters, Saber then stomped on the remains with all the weight of her armor.

"Accursed thing! Never would I have imagined myself being summoned by this!"

Her expression was one of cold and utter hatred for the Round Table. That's odd, thought Shishigou. To its knights, the Round Table had been a place of lively discussion. Although those knights became divided into allies and enemies in the end, that was not by its design. If there ever was a knight who hated it to such a degree...

In an instant, Shishigou realized her true name. If there was a knight who hated the Round Table, it must be the one knight who had rebelled against the King.

"Saber, are you Mordred?"

Mordred frowned slightly at Shishigou's question. It seems she feels a degree of shame at having her identity correctly guessed from her actions just moments ago.

But her tone was resolute when she declared.

"It is as you say. I am Mordred, the only true successor of the King of Knights, Arthur Pendragon."

"...Didn't you rebel?"

As soon as Shishigou pointed this out, Saber's face flushed.

"Yes, that's right. I did. The King never recognized my power to the bitter end; even though, in matters of both rule and sword, I was on the same level - no, I could have done even better. But the King refused me the throne due to my pedigree."

The frigidness of her tone was certainly not her checking her wild emotions. If anything, it was the opposite, for she possessed within a rage and animosity which shook her entire body.

Her pedigree - that she was born of infidelity between King Arthur and the King's own sister, Morgan - had been simply too fatal a flaw.

"Thus, I let it all end in rebellion. I let all see the truth that there was no meaning whatsoever to the King's reign."

It is true that, according to legend, it was Mordred who drove Arthur to the brink. Even after being pierced by the holy spear, Mordred dealt a fatal blow to the King.

Close to death, King Arthur returned the holy sword to the Lake and headed for Avalon. Mordred's life ended on the hill at Camlann; the only thing she passed on was her infamous name, as the Knight of Treachery.

"Right... so your wish is to become king?"

To Mordred, who had been refused the throne, being crowned king must be her wish. But Mordred's tone became imperious when she replied to Shishigou's words.

"Far from it. I have no desire to become king through the Holy Grail. My father would never recognize it even were I to ascend to the throne that way. The only thing I wish for, Master, is the chance to challenge the sword of appointment."

"...The one the King pulled from the stone?"

Saber nodded. It is said that a young Arthur gained the right to rule by drawing the sword which had beaten back all those who boast of their own strength.

Of course, if Mordred manages to pull the sword from the stone, then she would be recognized as worthy of being king. However, there is one gaping hole in what she planned to wish for.

"Hey, can I just ask you one thing?"

"Yes?"

"Assuming the Grail grants your wish, what happens if you can't pull the sword out?"

If she wants to challenge the sword of appointment, then naturally there is the chance that she cannot draw the sword. There was not a single man in the country who was deemed worthy by the sword, after all. Mordred may carry the blood of Arthur, but it is truly questionable whether she can pull out the sword.

"What nonsense, Master. Of course I can pull the sword out!"

Yet Saber puffed up with pride and so proclaimed. From the overpowering weight behind her words, one can see that she did possess a dignity befitting a king. Perhaps she might even be able to draw the sword out easily.

"Now, Master, let us not delay. Instruct me the whereabouts of the enemies I must strike."

Mordred pressed forward, a slight pant in her voice, but Shishigou held her in check.

"...You ever hear the saying 'look before you leap'?"

"And why would I care about such drivel? Was I not summoned to cut down seven Servants?"

It seems that the Grail has granted her knowledge regarding this Great War.

"That's true. But we have no idea what's going on with the seven on the other side."

Both of them raised their heads to the sound of small wings in the air above them. There was a grey dove sitting on a tree branch. Its eyes - those emotionless eyes unique to birds - moved restlessly, and it spat out a piece of paper it had been carrying in its mouth. The dove then flew off, as though its work was done here. When Shishigou picked up the paper, Saber peeked at it with apparent interest.

"Was that a familiar?"

"Looks like it. They want to meet us right away."

"Who?"

"People with the same interests as us."

Shishigou crumpled up the memo - on which was written 'tomorrow morning at nine, Sighisoara, church on the hilltop' and nothing else - and crushed it in his hand.

***

It was magnificence in its splendor, solemn yet commanding. A hundred words of praise would not be enough to describe the scene.

The Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Berserker, and Caster of Black - aside from the Assassin summoned in Shinjuku, all six Servants have been gathered in this chamber.

Under the Holy Grail War, it would be exceedingly rare for more than two Servants to exist in the same space at the same time. Regardless of whether they were fighting or working together, there would only be two or three Servants at most. And it would be normal for them to watch over each other carefully, leaving no openings for when the killing resumes between them.

But war has changed - and they have agreed to this Great War, readily accepting this united front.

"Ah, should we introduce ourselves first? We should, shouldn't we? I'll start! Servant Rider - my name is Astolfo. What about you?"

Before anyone could open their mouth, the Servant of the Rider class - Astolfo, uncovered another muzzle entirely.

The Servant next to him, a calm-looking man, seemed somewhat taken aback but smiled softly and answered.

"I am Servant Archer. My name is Chiron."

"Thanks, Chiron! Our time together may be short, but let's make the best of it!"

Rider held out a hand; Archer accepted it with a troubled expression.

"Do not use your true names, Rider. Call each other by your classes."

Darnic coolly reined Rider in. "Oh right," went Rider as he nodded, and he then called out to the Servant in the white dress.

"And you?"

"......"

The Servant remained silent. She shook her head from side to side, signalling her refusal.

"Oh, so sorry. It's all right if you can't talk. Hmm... where is her Master?"

Rider looked over the Masters and zeroed in on Caules when he reacted to his gaze.

"Hey, the Master over there, what's her name?"

"Uh, well, she's..."

Despite his flustered attempts to ward off Rider, Caules could not bear his approach, the way he stared as though trying to bore a hole through him, and mumbled out her true name.

"...Frankenstein."

"I see. Well, Pleased to meet you, Fran- I mean, Berserker."

Servant Berserker - Frankenstein, grumbled in displeasure at the revealing of her name.

Finally, Rider's eyes turned to the last Servant - Saber.

"So, what's your name?"

"Stop, Saber. Do not speak."

Before Saber could reply, his Master Gordes stopped him. He then proclaimed loudly to all those present, including Darnic.

"I will not disclose the true name of my Servant to any one of you but Darnic."

The entire room stirred. Selenik asked in a wintry tone.

"Didn't we all agree beforehand that we would disclose the true names of all our Servants? It's quite low of you to go back on that, isn't it?"

"I did not have this catalyst then."

Saying this, Gordes held the case closely as though it was precious. He plans to keep even his catalyst a secret.

"Is it really so important that you have to keep his name a secret, Uncle Gordes?"

Gordes nodded sourly in affirmation.

"...It would be fatal for my Servant to reveal his true name. I'd prefer reducing the number of mouths it might slip out of."

The true name of each Servant is a piece of information that should be kept secret if at all possible. However famous a hero might have been, it is often the case that he or she had met an untimely death in life.

Disclosing one's true name would reveal a fatal weakness - that is, the reason for the hero's death.

If he had been killed by poison, then simply find a way to deliver some. If he had been shot down by arrows, then open fire. If he had possessed a certain weak spot, then you need only aim for it.

Even if said reason is not tied to a certain weakness, a hero who inherits the traits of dragons would fare poorly against weapons made to slay dragons. And even if you do not by chance possess such a weapon, by revealing this information with other Masters it is highly likely that some form of countermeasure can be set up.

Naturally, there are also those Servants whose true names would bring them no trouble even were it revealed; for example, the Rider Astolfo is of this type.

Darnic glanced at Vlad, who nodded with a grin. Vlad, being the Servant of Darnic, of course knew who the Servant of Black summoned by Gordes is. As such, the prince who had been known for his heavy hand generously gave his assent.

"...Very well. We shall make an exception in your case."

Gordes gave a wide, satisfied smile at Darnic's words.

"My greatest thanks, Lord. Now, if you would excuse us."

Holding his head high, Gordes swept from the chamber with Saber in tow. Selenik muttered discontently as she watched them leave.

"Well, isn't he proud to have summoned Saber..."

"That's just the kind of creature he is."

Said Darnic with a wry smile. Gordes is the successor of the house of Musik that once boasted a skill with alchemy which rivaled the Einzbern. Then again, when the Musik family was folded into the Yggdmillennia, their thaumaturgical blood had already been in decay.

To a once-famous house, it must have been no small amount of shame to have been absorbed by the Yggdmillennia. From his youth, it was drilled into Gordes by his father and mother just what excellent alchemists their great family had been. Now at the age of thirty-six, he is still unable to separate dream from reality, having been raised to be proud of what once was.

That Gordes is a first-class magus, the first for a very long time ever since the name Musik became joined with Yggdmillennia, likely played a part in the excessive pride towards his own bloodline.

Besides, he certainly is a fine magus. He was the one who proposed and managed to realize a way to manipulate the system - the division of the prana path-lines, which in this Holy Grail War might well be considered foul play.

However excellent the magi sent by the Association may be, the summoning of a Servant - and providing it prana - will pose a troubling burden. Simply by not possessing this, the Masters of Black will be able to markedly close the gap between them. Having an abundance of prana makes it possible to be less selective in the usage of Noble Phantasms, as well. The results that Gordes has shown certainly could not be ignored - such that there is no choice but to turn a blind eye to his hubris.