Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

However, the half-bottle of wine that had been picked up as a offering to the gods suddenly slipped from the Empress's hand and shattered on the ground.

Semiramis collapsed into a chair as if struck by lightning, her face flushed, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of her chest, a burning sensation spreading from her lower abdomen, bringing a throbbing sensation that made her blood boil.

poisonous?

No! I definitely didn't smell any poison!

The empress, realizing she had been infected, was completely baffled.

"Of course I didn't poison it."

As if he had heard Semiramis's thoughts, Samael rubbed his slightly numb cheeks, spread his hands, and looked quite innocent.

"I only added a little aphrodisiac."

As he spoke, the ancient snake took out a delicate pink bottle from its pocket, placed it on the table, and presented it as evidence.

This was something he had taken from Asclepius, the god of medicine, during his expedition to the Argonauts, but he had never had a chance to use it.

Strictly speaking, aphrodisiacs are considered tonics...

But the problem is, the bottle that was full is now completely empty.

At this moment, Semiramis, who was gradually realizing the effects of the drug, clutched her burning lower abdomen, bit her cherry lips and teeth, and the murmur that was stuck in her throat was almost impossible to suppress. Looking at the narrow eyes of the instigator, she felt both grief and indignation, as well as a kind of indescribable stickiness.

"Not only women can lie, men can too, and it seems I'm even better at it."

Samael rose and looked at the beautiful woman who was whimpering and writhing on the ground, her eyes filled with longing, and gave her some earnest advice.

Then, under the Empress's gaze, filled with grief, shame, and a hint of longing, a snake wicked to the core smiled merrily.

Then, run away, close the door, lock it, and set up a protective barrier—all in one smooth motion!

Chapter 44 Heel, punch him!

Outside the palace.

Samael looked at the locked gate and the tightly closed barrier, and nodded in satisfaction.

The disrespect shown to the gods by using poison naturally requires a small punishment to teach the other party a lesson.

With double insurance, Semiramis should be able to enjoy herself for a while.

After quickly dealing with the restless Assyrian empress, the ancient serpent turned and left with light steps, strolling leisurely to the main hall to meet with the several Servants present and discuss the next steps of the plan.

"boom!"

However, the moment Samael gracefully took his seat, the tightly closed temple doors were suddenly pushed open, and his voice was heard before he was seen.

"A horse! Give me a horse! Give me a horse, and I'll give you my whole kingdom in exchange!"

The loud and passionate volume resounded throughout the hall.

A middle-aged man with brown eyes, wearing a green stand-up collar shirt and a red scarf, strode into the hall, passionately waving his right hand and reciting timeless passages.

"Caster, what nonsense are you spouting now?"

Achilles, sitting in the corner, couldn't help but complain when he heard the melodious tone of the voice, while simultaneously feeling a headache coming on.

Because he had never passed grammar and rhetoric at the School of Athens.

These are all infamous subjects, which have ruined countless gods and heroes who went there to study and practice.

Especially in later periods, the liberal arts curriculum at the Academy of Athens became more and more comprehensive. A group of academic luminaries, such as Orpheus, Socrates, and Aristotle, served as tutors, heads and deputy heads of departments, including the goddess of wisdom Athena and the goddess of justice Themis, who were known for their strictness and nobility.

Making a bunch of gods and heroes who can't even hold a pen properly to honestly learn rhetoric and grammar is probably the most painful thing imaginable.

"Oh, great hero of Greece! Please don't say such heartbreaking things! For us Shakespeares, our works are our lives!"

The middle-aged man leaned forward, one hand on his chest, and made a heartbroken complaint.

Looking at the expressive face of that middle-aged man, Achilles, who was asking the question, felt a slight itch in his fist.

At this moment, Samael, sitting on his throne, propped his cheek up with one hand and watched the little farce unfolding in the courtyard with great interest. His playful gaze fell on the arriving Caster, and he spoke leisurely.

"So, what is it you need, William Shakespeare?"

William Shakespeare is the most outstanding playwright in the history of English literature, one of the most outstanding writers in the history of Western literature and art, and one of the most outstanding writers in the world.

His surviving works include 38 plays, 155 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and other poems. His plays have been translated into various major languages ​​and performed far more often than the works of any other playwright.

As a literary creator, he was undoubtedly successful, and it is no exaggeration to say that he represents an insurmountable peak in literary history.

However, being summoned to the Holy Grail War as a Caster is a disastrous gacha pull for the Master.

Despite being named Caster, this guy is completely incapable of magic, let alone crafting workshops or tools; his own combat abilities are practically nonexistent. His only purpose is to enhance his Master and their items using the "Magic Boost" skill, allowing them to fight...

Bucket.

I don't fight at all, but I enjoy high-risk, high-reward tactics. I also watch as a spectator, looking forward to more interesting plots and secrets, and inquiring about the feelings of both sides in detail, which infuriates everyone.

To put it bluntly, he's the type who likes to stir up trouble and thrives on chaos.

Upon hearing the question posed by the person seated high on the throne, Shakespeare coughed lightly and pondered before answering.

"Actually, Spartacus... went to beat someone up."

"what?"

A seemingly insignificant magician in the Clock Tower looked utterly bewildered; he was none other than Berserker's Master.

A man wearing brown sunglasses.

"Yes, you heard right, Berserker went to the Black faction's fortress and beat people up!"

Shakespeare gesticulated wildly as he reported the situation, and at the end, he didn't forget to add his own dramatic flair, delivering a passionate speech.

"Oh, it's like lovers whose brains are boiling over!"

The sudden turn of events left everyone on the field looking at each other in bewilderment.

The magician in charge of controlling the Berserkers was sweating profusely, looking tremblingly at the [King] on the throne.

The bloody scene of Director Ken being beaten half to death yesterday is still vivid in my mind. I don't have a defensive weapon like Moon Spirit Essence Liquid that can block a slap from the other party.

Feeling he hadn't lived enough, the man in brown sunglasses immediately buckled at the waist and tried to bow and beg for forgiveness.

However, the King on the throne slightly raised his hand to stop the Master from apologizing, and looked at the world-renowned playwright with a smile.

"He should end up with you, right? So do you have any clue about the Berserker's rampage, Shakespeare?"

"Hmm? Hmph..."

Shakespeare spread his hands, a subtle smile on his face, and shook his head helplessly.

Similarly, Samael on his throne smiled.

Moreover, it is even more splendid.

"Rider, beat him up!"

In an instant, Achilles, who had been looking frivolous and lazy, opened his eyes wide upon hearing the assignment. His eyes flashed with excitement, and he took a step forward, closing in with lightning speed. He grabbed the playwright by the collar, and before the other party could react, he grinned and punched him in the stomach.

"Uh-huh...!"

Suddenly struck, Shakespeare let out a startled groan and bent over like a shrimp.

Upon hearing the mournful cry beside him, Achilles, a troubled student suffering from rhetoric and grammar classes, suddenly found the sound incredibly pleasing to the ear, as if all the pores on his body had opened up, letting in a cool breeze.

He dared not, under pressure from the heads of the literature department and deputy heads, go looking for trouble with those old guys at the Academy of Athens.

But after a thousand years, the thing he had always wanted to do but dared not do was finally accomplished in another era, in a roundabout way.

To be honest, it was really fun! It made me want to throw a few more punches.

However, before Achilles could fully savor the beauty of the punch, Shakespeare, who was nearly vomiting bile, immediately cowered at the hero's brutality, contorting his face and raising his hands in surrender.

"Stop! I..."

"boom!"

But before Caster could finish speaking, a fist that landed squarely on his stomach interrupted his speech, followed by a barrage of punches aimed at his weathered face.

A series of dull thuds of flesh colliding echoed in the hall, causing the faces of the onlookers to twitch slightly.

This situation suggests there's some personal grudge involved.

"Rider, you should give people a chance to speak."

Finally, after Shakespeare had been suffering for more than ten minutes, the king on the throne, who had been selectively amnesiac, slapped his forehead and remembered to stop this atrocity against his companion, looking at Achilles reproachfully.

As if belatedly realizing his mistake, a great Greek hero released the playwright with a heavy heart, even kindly straightening his collar, his eyes filled with deep regret.

"I said! I said!"

Seeing that a certain Greek brute looked like he hadn't had enough, Shakespeare, adhering to the principle that a wise man doesn't fight a losing battle, quickly explained the whole story of Berserker's rampage.

Whenever Shakespeare wanted to add some "artistic flair," the "king" on the throne would nod with a bright smile, as if he could see right through people, and Achilles below would clench his fist in agreement.

After a while, the great writer, who was almost scared to death, dared not hide anything and could only tell the whole story.

Stripped of embellishment, the process is quite simple.

With nothing better to do, Shakespeare amused himself by picking a fight with Spartacus. While reminiscing about the Roman gladiator's life of resisting dictatorship and fate, Shakespeare, on a whim, took to the stage and delivered a passionate speech. Using the persuasive power of playwrights and actors, he gave the already mentally unstable Berserker a "red magic boost."

Thus, the passionate Spartacus, encouraged by Shakespeare, jumped off the Sky Garden and, laughing, headed for the Suppressor's castle, ready to overthrow the tyranny of the Yggdrasil family in Tulipas.

I knew it, Sabbie.

Samael, who had expected this, rolled his eyes and secretly grumbled at this troublemaker.

The crowd glared angrily at this result.

Before the game even started, he was already inciting his teammates to feed kills. If it weren't for the fact that they were allies, they probably would have kicked this noob out on the spot.

The playwright, who was worried about getting beaten up, couldn't help but shrink back and cough to try and shift the focus away from the problem.

"If we go now, we might still be able to catch up..."

"Let's go, it seems we need to make a trip to Yggdmillennia Castle."

Samael, seated on the jade throne, shook his head, rose, and spoke.

"My lord, Lancer was just injured and won't fully recover overnight; the magician who will replace Kenneth hasn't arrived yet, so Rider can't unleash his full power; also, Assassin seems to be showing some symptoms and needs some rest..."

But just as the ancient serpent was about to depart, Ryori Adashino, who was attending to the throne, bowed slightly and cautiously reminded him.

"Isn't it a bit too risky to act now?"

"Don't worry, I'm not starting a full-scale war. I'm just going to take a look around and bring the rampaging Berserker back. Nothing serious will happen."

Samael smiled calmly, dispelling Hideyuki's doubts. His gaze swept over the crowd and he began to select his generals.

"Archer, Rider, and Saber, you are faster on foot, so follow me ahead. The rest of you, pilot the Sky Garden and wait in the shadows. If needed, I will send more orders."

Upon hearing this, Taman, Achilles, and Mordred immediately nodded and followed the ancient serpent's figure, leaping down from the Sky Garden and transforming into arcs of light as they sped towards Yggdrasilena Castle.

Ryori Adano, who took over the management of the aerial fortress from Semiramis, felt a headache coming on as she watched the four figures disappear into the distance.

This time, her boss is another one who likes to mess around, and as his subordinate, she feels a lot of pressure.

But since things have come to this, there's nothing I can do but accept it.

After all, even the Grand Marshal of the Clock Tower was very secretive about the guy in front of him, so what could a mere forensic clerk like himself do?

Ryori Adano rubbed her throbbing temples and, using Command Spells, controlled the Dragon Fang Soldiers, piloting the Sky Garden and advancing at a steady pace towards their destination.

Meanwhile, in Tulifas, in the forest surrounding Yggdomirenia Castle.

"boom!"

As the earth trembled, several triggered magical mines suddenly exploded in the dense forest, startling nearby birds into scattering and fleeing.

Beneath the billowing smoke and dust, a tall figure with bronze skin and bulging muscles pushed aside the tree trunk pressing down on him and slowly stood up from his bowed position.

The hunter in the deep pit looked at the tall figure blocking the sunlight and giving him a strange smile. He instinctively staggered back and, in a panic, collapsed to the ground.

The upright figure seemed unconcerned, even genuinely happy, with an uncontrollable smile on its face that appeared even more radiant and sunny.

"Hahaha! How delightful! How delightful! Nothing gives me more pleasure than being a shield for the weak!"

His rough voice was accompanied by hearty laughter.

The hunter, who had regained his senses, turned his stiff neck and looked around at the shattered trees and his own unharmed body. Only then did he notice the seemingly ferocious figure in front of him, which was covered in wounds.

Blood gushed from the man's bronze back, flesh torn and twisted, wooden splinters piercing his muscles. Just one glance was enough to convey the excruciating pain that seemed to penetrate to the very marrow.

However, even so, the pain did not make the man cry out and back down; instead, it made him even more excited and frenzied.