WARNING: Story contains spoiler for the Fate/Apocrypha light novel series.

It is also NOT beta-ed.

Please read at your own risk, and enjoy.

It was a horrifying, bloody battlefield. Ghouls, demons, creatures that belonged to the deepest pits of Hel, Náströnd…

Siegfried plunged his sword into another undead.

This is what his Master does?

There was no glory in this combat. There was no honor in killing things that were no better than mindless beasts. On this battlefield, it was kill or be killed. Slay or be slain.

He turned his head to avoid another ghoul, and brought his blade across its neck. The headless body collapsed, like a puppet with its strings cut.

However, more followed; hundreds of the abominations, shadowed by a burning village. There was no end in sight…

As Siegfried prepared himself to lunge forward, he noticed a flash of light by the corner of his eye. A white light shot past him and slashed across the neck of an undead that had gone unnoticed, beheading it.

"You missed one, Saber."

That was his Master. Gone was his usual bright demeanor, and instead had an uncharacteristic dark look on his face. He was dressed in his typical hooded jacket and jeans, except it was now stained red at the sleeves. His right hand and arm was still outstretched from when he had casted the curse.

"My apologies, Master."

"Hey, don't worry about it. 'Sides, right now... we have a job to do."

"Understood; leave it to me."

He heard the other male sigh. "You know you're not alone, right? Not anymore, I mean."

"I can fight alone, Master. Your safety is paramount."

"Two opponents are harder to face than one; you do realize that, right?" He sighed once more. "Well, looks like I might have to prove that teamwork trumps any ridiculous notion that you have of fighting all by yourself." He conjured a ring of fire, getting ready to cast the Firestorm charm. "Here they come, Saber!"

And with a wordless battle cry, the Master and Servant pair launched themselves towards the horde of the undead.

Siegfried would look back on that night, and he would remember it as the first time he stood back to back with his Master in combat.

It would not be the last time, either.

"Harry, last night – "

"Yeah, I felt it." Harry stared at his left hand, the one which a stylized symbol of the Deathly Hallow was etched. "The last of the Heroic Spirits have been summoned. The war has begun."

He spread a map of Romania onto the small table.

"Shall we prepare for war then, Siegfried – my Dragon-Blooded Knight?"

The Servant gave a nod of agreement. "Yes, lets. Have you determined the identities of all of the Masters, then?"

"As of last night, I was able to uncover our potential allies and opponents, as well as whom we will be fighting, thanks to my network of… spies." Harry smirked.

Siegfried suppressed a small shiver. "Die Schlangen?" he asked.

The knight personally didn't have anything against snakes, and found his Master's unique ability to speak their language rather fascinating ("Parseltongue", he calls it). Despite this, however, to see him converse with the creatures filled with eerie hisses – no matter how many times he hears them – sends an involuntary chill down his spine.

If Harry saw his discomfort, he pretended not to notice.

"Yes. Now, as we all know, there are two groups in this particular war: The Masters and Servants of Black and Red. Aside from the Ruler class Servant that will appear before us in a few more days, there should be a total number of seven Servants on each side of the faction, making this undoubtedly the greatest Holy Grail War Apocrypha of all… Or at least it should have been seven classes."

The Servant looked up with a start. "What do you mean?"

"From what I've been told, the Yddgmillennias already have all seven Servants located in Trifas. That shouldn't be possible, since you, the Saber of Black, is with me. If what my snakes say is true, and there are a total of eight Servants in the Black Faction instead… then we might be facing a total of fifteen to sixteen Masters. The question is what is this unknown eighth class and how will this affect the war?"

Harry then took out a folder from his trunk and spread seven pictures onto the table.

"While we were still in England, I've already done some research on all the members of the Yggdmillennia and potential representatives of the Clock Tower, including Freelances. From what I can determine, these are the ones chosen by the grail to compete in this war. This line up of Masters should prove to be fairly intimidating.

The elder of the Yggdmillennia, Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia, is obviously one of the Masters. On his side, the other six Masters are: Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillenia, Caules Forvedge Yggdmillennia, Celenike Icecolle Yggdmillennia, Roche Frain Yggdmillennia, and Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia.

The seventh Master is supposed to be a man of Japanese descent named Hyouma Sagara. My scouts haven't seen him here yet, so maybe he sent a proxy? But there are records of him being given a catalyst – specifically six sets of knives. All the members of the Black camp, with the exception of Hyouma, are accomplished Magi and shouldn't be taken lightly."

His Servant crossed his arms, looking contemplative. "They are our allies of this war, yes? So why do you speak of them almost as if they are our enemies?"

"You may never know when supposed allies can betray you if they no longer see you as useful or a threat. From what I've heard about Darnic Yggdmillennia, the guy specializes in backstabbing, even to his own friends and family. Since we're an 'outsider' despite being part of the Black Faction, it's best to be cautious, especially in an unfamiliar Magi territory. As they say, constant vigilance is the key to survival and victory."

Siegfried's lips thinned. He knew all too well about betrayal. After all, it was due to this very reason that ultimately took his life…

Harry then took out another seven pictures from the folder.

"Next up are the Masters from the Red camp. The Mage's Association apparently decided not to choose elite families of the Clock Tower as their representatives due to the pressing time. Instead, they've contracted six Freelance Magi and an Overseer from the Church."

Harry frowned. "The six Freelances are all renowned Magi who specialize in combat and bounty hunting. I've worked with some of them before, so I know firsthand that they can be pretty ruthless. But this particular one right here," he tapped his finger on a photo to his right, "is the one we've got to look out for the most. Sisigou Kairi: A really nice guy despite his tough biker gang image. But he's one hell of a Necromancer… It's too bad that we're opponents this time. We usually grab a cup of coffee or tea after a satisfying job well done."

"Harry. The data," Siegfried stated bluntly.

"Yes, yes, I apologize. Ignore this old man and his nostalgic ramblings. Anyway, the last photo right here is the chosen Overseer. His name is Kotomine Shirou, and is the adopted son of Kotomine Risei… the only survivor in the Third Holy Grail War in Fuyuki City. Call me paranoid, but something tells me that his selection as the Overseer isn't just a coincidence. Best we look out for this one as well." The black haired teen took a few breaths.

The knight sat in silence. "I see. Have you found the identity of their Servants as well?"

"Unfortunately, I do not know what catalysts each factions have used to summon their Servants, except for Hyouma. Most likely one of them will summon Vlad III as a Servant since the war is being held here in Transylvania, where his legend and fame are at their highest. My scouts, as smart and cunning as they may be, are still just animals – they won't be able to accurately describe man-made objects because they're something that they can't comprehend."

Siegfried grounds his teeth. "So, we have absolutely no idea what Servants most of the Masters have… At least we know the identities of the Masters. How would you rate their levels of danger?"

Harry hummed, deep in thought.

"Most of the Masters of the Yddgmillennia, I can defeat with ease. They may be skilled Magi, however, they're predictable – too set in their ways. Fiore Yggdmillennia might be a challenge since there must be a reason why Darnic chose her as his successor. But if the rumors are correct, as powerful as she may be, she's a kind girl – perhaps too kind. And the life of a Magus might be too much pressure for her throughout this war.

The Freelances might not be too much of a problem in the long run. If there's one thing that they all value, it's the monetary reward. Fortunately for us, money will never be an issue. So we ask, they demand, we give, and they'll be off our backs. The snakes haven't seen most of them in Romania, so we'll worry about them later. The only exception to this would be Kairi, but he's not someone I can't handle. Really, the only ones I would need to look out for are Darnic Yggdmillennia and Kotomine. Personally, I think that Kotomine is quite possibly the most dangerous Master in this entire war."

Siegfried raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Barring myself, yes."

He maintained a completely serious expression, proving that he wasn't kidding when he claimed that Kotomine Shirou was deadly.

"The reason for this is mainly because compared to the information that I've gathered for all the Masters, Kotomine is the only one I have the least amount of. Aside from the fact that he's adopted and that he's a priest from the Church, that's all that I have. No original birthdate, biological parents, nothing. Not even his blood type. And that's not normal, even if he may be a Magus. Firsthand experience, the least amount of info you have on the person, the more dangerous they may potentially be."

"Basically, an unknown enemy," Siegfried asked slowly. "… Do you think you can defeat him?"

Harry laughed. "Perhaps, in a fair battle. But even if the odds are against me," he grinned, a predatory and bloodthirsty grin. "I am not a Magus. I am an old soldier, with well over five thousand years of experience. I have seen worlds at war, and have emerged victorious. Unless the conditions are truly unfavorable, none of the Masters should truly be a threat.

We will win the war, Saber. That is our promise to one another. I am just saying, and reminding you: Do not underestimate the opponent. Never, ever underestimate the enemy. For that slight misjudgment can lead to your end… as it has for my own enemies in the past."

"Mmm," the Servant sighed. "Well then... shall we start getting ready to leave? The train to Sighisoara should be running now."

"Yes, let's go."

At that moment a growl was heard from the silver-haired knight's stomach area, effectively breaking a tense atmosphere.

There was a long moment of awkward silence.

Feeling his face burn all the way down to his neck, Siegfried cleared his throat in an attempt to dispel his mortification. This caused Harry to snicker.

"… Master, I…"

"Breakfast is coming right up."

Harry dreamed. He's dreamt the same sequential dreams since he first summoned his Servant. In his dreams he saw a young prince who lived in a castle on a river. Even before he reached his age of manhood, he performed so many daring feats, such as the slaying of the evil dragon in the linden tree, and the capture of rich treasures.

He was also a captain who led his soldiers, and surmounted every field of battle without a single defeat. At the same time, he was an ideal selfless hero who saved and helped others; always following through to his duties. But as a result, the prince was never happy.

He also dreamed of a beautiful woman who was sleeping while surrounded by fire. The prince, as a request from his brother-in-law and friend, awoke her from her slumber and then presented the woman as the said friend's wife. The woman, however, fell in love with the prince and believed that her rightful husband was him instead. In a fit of rage and betrayal, she swore that she will have her revenge.

In this particular dream, he dreamed of the prince who was in the forest with his friends on a hunting trip for wild games. As he was drinking from a brook, one of his companions took this chance to strike him on his back – his only weakness – using the Blade of Betrayal in the shape of a spear.

The prince was struggling, trying to stay alive for just a bit longer. He wanted to avenge himself. Scream in fury. Cry from despair; perhaps all at the same time. He didn't know what to feel. But most of all, why, he wanted to ask. Why was he betrayed? Weren't they friends? What has he done to deserve this dishonorable death from one of the ones he called his dearest friends?

"Why, Hagen…?"

The man, now known as Hagen, sneered down at the bleeding prone body and spoke.

"You've become too arrogant, Siegfried. In the honor and reign of my king and brother, Gunther, you must be eliminated."

The dying prince gasped for breath. "… Gunther… won't let you get away with this…"

"That's where you're wrong," Hagen smirked maliciously. "King Gunther himself was the one who plotted for your death. For dishonoring his Queen, this is the price that the king wants for you to pay. I just happened to volunteer to carry out his order. Goodbye, 'friend.' May you enjoy the rest of your eternal life in Hel."

The prince tried to stand and reach out for the man who was now walking away, but that wish was not to be granted. He expired rapidly and was left alone in the wilderness.

It was this scene that Harry dreamt of: The betrayal and death of Prince Siegfried by the hands of those he once considered his friends.

-Transylvania, Romania: Sighisoara –

Harry let out a sigh as he stretched his arms after stepping out of the train. "What a nap. So this is Sighisoara, huh."

Siegfried, who was now in his spirit form, nods his head.

"Yes, and the distance from here to Trifas is only a few hours away."

"Good. Then it seems we will be able to get there by tonight."

"'A horse, a horse! My kingdom for a horse!'"

The two abruptly ended their discussion and looked towards the source of the shout.

The sound came from a man, foppishly dressed in refined Medieval-esque clothing, walked briskly towards them while spreading his arms wide and shouting. It was an enemy Servant, although they didn't sense any hostility from him.

After a brief silence, Harry spoke.

"Isn't that a quote from the play, Richard III, during a final climax of the battle of Bosworth Field?"

The man's shoulders lifted as he grinned with jubilance at the Wizard's words.

"O, my dear Sir! Words cannot describe the bliss in my heart of how someone who lives in this age finally acknowledges one of my greatest works! Are you an Englishman by any chance? It would certainly explain your fine taste in literacy!"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Your 'greatest works'? Are you saying… that you're the William Shakespeare? You've been summoned as a Servant?" He couldn't quite cover the astonishment in his voice. However, he knew that the man in front of him was not lying.

Legilimency is a useful art at times like this… As long as the Servant's rank of Magic Resistance and Magical Power do not exceed his Legilimency skill level, he should be able to use it and get away unnoticed.

William Shakespeare - the only playwright whose fame had reached around the world. To say that one has no knowledge of his works is to be disparaged as ignorant. It is even said that if one were to trace the source of any piece of modern literature, one would always find a Shakespearean creation.

Harry, himself, is a fan of Shakespeare and his plays, even before he went to Hogwarts. So to see the very man that he has idolized is walking around in the modern world as a Servant, have put him in a state of awe.

Siegfried, sensing his Master's dazed emotions from their link, felt a twinge of irritation he couldn't quite suppress and mentally jostled him.

Harry grimaced slightly from the sudden mental jab and scowled at his invisible companion subtly from the corner of his eyes. Alright, so he should have stayed more focused. But hey, he's British; he's grown up knowing the man! So sue him!

A Servant's name is the most important piece of information of all. It would be unthinkable to simply reveal it without a thought. The grasping of a Servant's true name inevitably leads to everything from their Noble Phantasm to their strengths, and conversely, their weaknesses.

However, Shakespeare didn't look at all concerned of his identity being revealed. Rather, his grin just grew wider.

"Indeed I am, my good sir! Caster of Red is my name and title of this Great Holy Grail War. I assume, seeing how you were able to easily identify me as a Servant, that you are a Master?"

"Yes. But I'm sure that you knew that already as soon as you sensed me arriving here," Harry replied easily, "as well as the one who is walking towards us now is your Master."

Said Master who was now in front of him, was a robed young man who looked close to Harry's own physical age. It was the priest sent by the Holy Church.

The priest gave a very mature smile on his innocent boyish face.

"It seems that you have already met my Servant. It's my pleasure to meet you. I am Kotomine Shirou - the acting Overseer for this Great Holy Grail War."

There was something quite crooked about the look on his face. It was a very judicious smile, not something that a boy not even over twenty should make.

"Since you have already seen my Servant, could you please materialize your own?" Kotomine requested. "I won't ask you to reveal their class and name, of course, since it's my own Servant's fault for revealing his. It's only fair, don't you think?"

Harry cocked his eyebrow. "No, I don't think so."

"If it is because I am a Master of the Red Faction, then rest assure; as the Overseer of the war, I will not be taking any sides of either faction, despite myself being aligned with the Red camp. I'm just simply curious as to what your Servant looks like."

The Wizard refused to budge.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm sure that you're a nice bloke and all. But I'm sure you can also tell right away that I'm not part of the Yggdmillennia clan despite me part of the Black Faction. I don't plan on taking my chances of 'being fair' towards anyone, especially from those of the Red Faction, Overseer or not."

Kotomine hummed thoughtfully. "I see… I can understand your reluctance then. I sincerely apologize. I did not intentionally mean to make you feel uncomfortable when the war has not yet even started."

"Hey, no harm's done, right?" The Wizard waved his hand. "And as for Caster's identity, I don't plan on spreading the information around, so no one's going to know besides myself."

"I thank you for your generosity," the priest bowed.

"Err, right," Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I'll be one my way now. It's been nice seeing you, Kotomine, Caster. See you guys on the battlefield in a few days."

He began to walk away and remained silent until the Overseer and his Servant were no longer visible and out of hearing range.

"Harry, are you alright?" Siegfried asked, looking concerned. "You felt tense the entire time while you were with the Overseer."

His Master remained silent for a few second.

"… I was right, Saber. Kotomine is most definitely going to be our greatest obstacle in this war."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "That man… He doesn't only have Caster as his Servant; he was hiding another one the entire time. He's controlling two Servants."

"… What?"

While such a thing is possible, it is rather irregular. There has never been a case of a single Master commanding two Servants in prior Grail Wars. One would barely be able to prevent a self-inflicted death via prana drain. In that case, just how much prana does this man have reserved in him?

"You probably didn't sense them since the second Servant was also in a spirit form – most likely an Assassin if that's the case. But I was able to see their magical structures clearly, due to my title as the Master of Death and the Resurrection Stone that's within me."

The Resurrection Stone… one of the three mysterious magical artifacts rumored to have been created by Death himself, the Deathly Hallows. Siegfried remembers the tale surrounding their origins from his Master, and how he has gathered them all, making him the "Master of Death"… As well as being the cause of his immortality.

"But something else bothers me about that Overseer."

"'Something else'?"

"Every living being have magical lines and structures that surrounds them, even just a little bit, which identifies who or what they are. Servants are unique because they're spirits, yet possess a material body bound by a Master to function in this world. But Kotomine… didn't have the exact same structure of humans. Instead, for some reason, his sort of resembles that of a Servant."

"That didn't go so well. I'm afraid that he might have sensed something. But it was to be expected. He is that infamous Witch, after all."

"Why did you let him go?" The Assassin of Red as she materialized next to her Master. "As I see it, uncertainty is the first enemy we must eliminate. There is still time - could we not send an agent after him and his Servant?"

Shirou quickly rejected Assassin's merciless suggestion.

"No, no, we shouldn't. Not only do we not even know what class his Servant is, it's still much too early for fighting when we have yet to fully prepare for war on our side. Speaking of preparations, how is it going with your Noble Phantasm, Assassin? The materials you lack should have all been gathered by now."

"Yes, only the ritual required to establish it as my Noble Phantasm remains. I need three more days."

"I see. Then it seems we will be able to breach Trifas in three days' time."

"Yes, we need only to have the doves act as our scouts for these few days."

"'Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them!'"

Shirou – rather nervously, as though he felt somewhat apologetic – looked at Shakespeare.

"...Was that from one of your works, Caster?"

The playwright's shoulders dropped as he sighed with disappointment.

"Oh, Master! How can it be that a stranger knows one of my greatest works, yet my own Master does not! You must take the time to read this!"

He held out a bulky hardcover. Apparently, he had just visited a book shop in order to buy his own work.

"I might have been summoned by the Holy Grail, but it could hardly have granted me such knowledge as details about your works. All you are to me is 'a famous writer of history.'"

Hearing Assassin's comment, the Caster of Red gazed upwards and lamented.

"O Queen of Assyria, let me hear no more of such painful words, I beg you. Every line you speak is a refusal of my very individuality!"

"...Yes, I suppose you would see it that way. But Caster, what has happened that required you to appear in material form in the first place?"

Her question immediately stopped all of Shakespeare's exaggerated grieving.

With a cough, he spoke again with some discomfort.

"Ah, yes, well... 'lovers and madmen have such seething brains', as the phrase goes, but the one we know as Berserker at times conducts himself in a way most unappealing to logic..."

"...Has Berserker begun his rampage?"

"Oh, no," Shakespeare answered Shirou.

"Then what exactly is the matter? Explain yourself."

Assassin approached her fellow Servant, her face contorted into an irritated scowl. With a smile like that of a jester's, the Caster of Red delivered the news.

"Berserker has begun his march on Trifas. It seems he has discerned the enemy which he must strike."

"...What?"

"Oh my... that is troubling news."

Assassin was lost for words whereas Shirou's murmur was practically casual.

"For now, Archer is in pursuit, but whether or not she can stop him may as well be decided by the flip of a coin... well, it is mostly likely that she will fail."

"This is no laughing matter, Caster," Assassin muttered bitterly.

While all the Servants of Red have been assembled, they are not fully prepared for war. This is without mentioning the Servants of the Yggdmillennia who wait within the impregnable Fortress of Millennia, in perfect condition and awaiting their advance - Berserker has no chance of breaking through by himself. His march will only end in the meaningless death of a Servant.

"How will we proceed, Master? My Noble Phantasm is not yet prepared. In such a state, it would be senseless for us to make our attack. Our only choice is to leave him to his fate."

"'Mischief, thou art afoot. Take thou what course thou will...'"

"Oh? So it was you who spurred him, then, Caster?"

Shakespeare ended all of his excessive gesturing and averted his gaze with seeming embarrassment.

"So it was you who told him of the location of Trifas! You little...!"

"Oh, but the pitiful Berserker wishes only to seek the adversary for his rebellion – I cannot possibly stand idle while he is filled with such anguish!"

To Shakespeare, this world truly is the greatest story ever told. Or rather, it ought to be so; for he loved from the bottom of his heart all that are out of the ordinary, and pursued the tales which they spun.

That is why he is willing to employ deception and provocation – anything for the sake of the story.

"More and more, you prove yourself to be nothing but trouble...!" Assassin sighed, but Shakespeare replied gracefully.

"Now you know that I am what they call a 'troublemaker'... or perhaps 'trickster' is more fitting."

"There's no helping it, then... We will have to ask Archer to support Berserker. But give her strict orders to retreat if the situation turns disadvantageous. Berserker cannot be stopped - even if his Master expends a Command Spell, it will only delay the inevitable."

"Yes, Master. My scouts shall pass your words unto Archer."

"And as Overseer, I will have to follow Berserker and deal with whatever is left in his path. I will not be able to act for some time. Do keep out of trouble, won't you, Caster?"

Because Shirou is also the Overseer, he must of course do everything in his power to preserve the secrecy of Thaumaturgy. After all, if Berserker is heading for Trifas in a direct line, it is highly likely that he has been seen. If only he were in spirit form... But, as the Overseer, he could determine that it would be meaningless to expect that sort of logical thinking in a Berserker... especially that one.

"Oh, yes. I understand, my Master..."

As though to encourage his disheartened Servant, Shirou said with a soft smile,

"Fear not, Caster. The battle shall soon be joined. With seven Black Servants and seven Red Servants, it shall be the greatest of Holy Grail Wars – the Great War of the Holy Grail. I do believe that this battle will satisfy your love of stories."

– Transylvania, Romania: Trifas –

Trifas becomes a silent place in the dead of night. There are no lights shining from the houses and no stores that operate through the night. Only streetlamps illuminated the darkness - weak light that can do little against the deep shadows.

Siegfried and Harry are on their way to the Fortress of Millennia, as well as searching for a place from which they will launch their assault in a worst case scenario if the Yggdmillennias were to deem them as adversaries.

The fortress is located north-east of Trifas and the three hectares surrounding it are forests. Trifas is situated on a plateau rising from west to east, so one can watch over the entire city from the highest point of the fortress.

As such, Harry and his Servant, who already materialized, would need to begin their search south of the fortress. The best choice would be a tall building, not so close to the fortress but not also so far that nothing can be seen.

Before they could find such a location, however, Harry suddenly narrowed his eyes as he looked to his sides left and right.

"Saber, be prepared for battle. We're being watched."

As soon as he spoke those words, a mass of what appeared to be birds flew out from the surrounding buildings. Harry inwardly cursed. Have the Yggdmillennias already decided to fight them as enemies? Before he could say another word, Siegfried had already changed into his armor and was ready for combat.

"... What are those?"

Due to the darkness of the night, it was difficult for even Harry to see anything beyond vague movements and magical structures he could not identify. However, with his extraordinary sight, Siegfried could clearly see the form of the coming attackers.

"Golems!"

Four stone golems, seemingly modelled after dragonflies, descended upon them from all directions. Siegfried leapt and destroyed one, then landed on the closest one on the ground and hacked down the other two.

"Verdammt... there are more!"

Siegfried brought his sword to bear without a moment's pause. Humanoid and non-humanoid golems appeared from all around them - they must have been camouflaged on the roofs of the nearby buildings. But there were more; humans gripping halberds appeared seemingly out of nowhere and, together with the golems, surrounded the pair.

No... Their faces were too expressionless for humans. In fact, their faces were all so similar to one another that they might be mistaken for siblings.

"They're not humans... Homunculi, huh."

"It would seem so. Your orders, Master."

"We'll split from here. Leave the homunculi to me. You take care of the rest."

"As you command!"

Crushing the tiles beneath his feet, the Saber of Black charged at the golems like a speeding bullet. The golems' stone and bronze bodies were shattered as though they were paper and wood. Another golem attempted to crush him with its immensely large body, but Siegfried simply launched his sunken body upwards, blowing the stone puppet aside.

He then leapt into the air and swung his greatsword with both hands at a golem coming from above, cleaving it clean in half. Landing back on the ground, the knight took his right hand off his sword to stop the punch of a second golem and threw his attacker away single handed - sending it on a collision course with the cleaved golem above and causing both to be shattered. Pulling his sword back up, Siegfried resumed his onslaught.

Against the homunculi, Harry spreads his arms out wide to each sides, allowing two large, menacing serpentine figures to slither out from his sleeves. Even the emotionless homunculi, slowly edging their way towards him, paused reflexively at the sight of the fearsome creatures.

Although they obviously looked like snakes, they clearly were not creatures of the flesh. Instead, they looked far more jagged and feral to be called animals. Demonic beasts from a nightmare would have been a far better description.

"~Put them to sleep. End them painlessly,~" the Wizard hissed.

As soon as the order was made by their master, in the blink of an eye the twin "snakes" extend towards the frozen homunculi and bit the two nearby on their necks, killing them instantly.

The twin serpentine figures are sentient Mystic Codes created by Harry, himself, during his time as an Auror in his original world. Naming them "Ouroboros", he sealed them onto his shoulders in a form of tattoos and can summon them at any time.

The technique that he has just used was simple: By using the Basilisk venom that flows through his veins since twelve, Harry is able to draw out the diluted venom from his blood through Ouroboros, and have them use the extraction as their "venom". Although the Basilisk venom is significantly weakened due to the mixture of Phoenix tears, they are still enough to stun and paralyze one's ability to use magic – in this case, Magic Circuits.

Homunculi are especially vulnerable since they are literally Magic Circuits with a human form. Their frail bodies did not help at all. By slightly upping the usual dosage of the extracted venom, Harry could put these artificial beings into a painless state of sleep, eventually killing them.

Harry never enjoyed killing anyone unnecessarily, and these homunculi are most likely just mindlessly following orders from their Master. However, he knew all too well that there are fates much worse than death – which was exactly what these beings will face if he were to spare them. Sometimes, what is thought to be an act of mercy is instead cruelty.

That didn't make him feel any less guilty, though.

As soon as the two homunculi were taken down, the Ouroboros curves through the air and killed the rest of the homunculi in a similar fashion. Sealing his weapons back onto his shoulders, Harry noted that they died with peaceful expressions, as though they were just in a deep sleep.

He sighed. Five thousand years, and even the thought of taking away lives never made meals taste quite right afterward for him…

While the homunculi certainly possess some combat ability, to the Master of Death, they are but simple prey. And that seems to be the case for his Saber as well.

"It's over, Master."

"Yeah, well done."

Having crushed the last golem, Siegfried returned. He looked around at the corpses around him and let out a breath, sounding relieved from their sleep-like expressions as well.

Bending down, Harry tore out a piece of parchment from a piece of a shattered golem. There were commands written all over it.

"This is old... over eight hundred years old."

Time was of exceedingly high value in Thaumaturgical applications. A mystery strengthens the longer it has existed. With eight-hundred-year-old parchment, one may forge a golem that can easily destroy one or two experienced Magi.

However...

"How were those golems, Saber?"

"This was my first time facing these stone puppets... but they did better than I expected. The last one managed to endure three blows."

"A golem made by a modern Magus couldn't possibly last even two hits from you, not even if they spent their entire life working on it."

There are exceptions, of course. The world is a big place and it is possible that a Magus exists who can create golems on par with Servants. However, it does not seem likely that one would exist among the Yggdmillennia. The best Golemancer within their clan is Roche Frain Yggdramillennia and as good as his golems are, they shouldn't be able to withstand even one of Saber's swings.

This means that the creator of these golems is not a modern Magus. Most likely the Caster of Black who was famed for creating golems.

Just as Harry was taking a closer look at the parchment in order to examine it in further detail, a great heat washed over his face.

"Ouch!"

He recoiled and let go of the blazing parchment. It was not only the piece that Harry picked up - all the parchments in the area around them were going up in flames. The remains of the golems quickly weathered and turned to dust.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, it just stung a bit. Careful bastards…"

Suddenly there was a sound of slow clapping echoing throughout their surroundings. Both Master and Servant looked up and went into their stance, prepared to fight.

Up ahead are two tall figures, both obviously men despite their rather slim figures. One is wearing a crisp, clean uniform of white and gold. His wavy blue hair tied in a low ponytail.

His companion, on the other hand, wore almost entirely black; his complexion almost impossibly pale, making him look rather gaunt. Despite this, the man practically oozes out an aura of dignity and authority – a person not to be underestimated.

It was Darnic Yggdmillennia and his Servant.

"As expected of the Serpent Witch and the Servant of the Saber class," the elder of the clan finally said after he finished his claps of approval. "Both of you were splendid and a sight to behold. Wouldn't you agree, Lord?"

The Servant besides him nods in agreement.

"Indeed. They would make excellent additions into my army. Let us welcome them, Darnic. It would be bad manners on our part to not introduce ourselves to our allies."

"Yes, of course."

Turning back to his attention at the Master and Servant pair, Darnic Yggdmillennia spreads his arms out wide as if to welcome old friends.

"Good evening! I am Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia, and this is my Servant, Lancer. We of the Yggdmillennia, welcome you to Trifas. As the head of my clan, and thus the leader of the Black Faction, we invite you to our home, the Fortress of Millennia, as our allies for this Grail War!"

A/N: Thank you for reading this chapter. Please be sure to leave a comment by hitting that lovely review button.

Thank you to all those who have left comments on my previous chapters. Your comments, either critiques or encouragements, really help me feel inspired and motivated to create a new chapter. This chapter is for you guys C:

Thank you all once again, and I hope to see you guys soon.