Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

"We are one, ruler and subject. Where our lord is, that is where we are!"

Diarmuid spoke sternly, displaying the loyalty of a knight, the two demonic swords in his hands and the two demonic spears behind him emitting a sinister light.

Calleber glanced at his old, frail arms and legs and fell silent.

The Holy Grail War doesn't seem to prohibit having accompanying squires, such as the Conqueror King who led an army during the Fourth Holy Grail War.

Seeing the elderly black man speechless, stumped by the sophistry, Danic changed his tone, his cold expression softening slightly.

“Father, I have no intention of being an enemy of the Church. This is just a conflict between the World Tree Clan and the Clock Tower. If you have no further questions, please step aside.”

Calleber hesitated for a moment, then looked back at the hovering aerial fortress behind him. The image of him sailing through the raging floodwaters flashed through his mind, and he stood there, steeling himself.

"The rules are questionable right now, and I'm afraid I need time to report to my superiors..."

However, as is well known, negotiating terms requires equal leverage.

Caleb, a mere subordinate church agent, was clearly not up to the task of stopping Danic's century-long scheme.

Upon hearing this, Danic's face turned cold, his right hand gripping the wand tightened, and his purple eyes flashed with a chilling light as he looked at the stubborn black priest in front of him.

If you don't eat the toast, you will be punished with a drink!

During the years I was a German traitor during World War II, I bought a lot of Jewish soap. I even dared to put Jews, who are the source of the Abrahamic religions, into concentration camps. Do you really think I'm afraid of the Holy Church?

As an ambitious figure who burned Jews, harmed the three Fuyuki families, and is currently at odds with the Clock Tower, Danic's resolve is naturally not something that a mere church representative can sway.

When I'm happy, I'll call you Father; when I'm unhappy, I'll call you "old-fashioned cotton harvester." Believe it or not.

As for God? How many teachers can God possibly have?

As his thoughts raced, Danic, whose power had greatly increased, made no attempt to conceal his murderous intent toward this stumbling block. The ruby ​​at the tip of his wand faintly glowed with the dangerous light of surging ether.

"Head of the Thousand Worlds Tree, if possible, I still hope that you will break your contracts with your past Servants and abide by the rules."

However, just as Danic's murderous intent surged, the solemn silence in the crowd and the slightly unfurled holy banner forced Danic to restrain his killing intent and frown.

Joan of Arc!

But then, the magician, known for his sophistry and ambition, gave a cold smile.

"Breaking the rules? No, no, I'm just setting new rules. Last time it was the church that made the request, this time it's my turn."

With that, Danic waved forward, giving the order to attack to the group of heroic spirits and family magicians, his eyes burning with fervor.

"Gentlemen, victory is within reach! Join me in opening the gates of the Root and filling the Holy Grail with its blessings!"

Upon hearing those alluring words, the magicians couldn't help but feel their hearts surge with excitement, urging their heroic spirits to launch a full-scale attack.

Vlad III, who had initially supported Joan of Arc, hesitated for a moment, glanced at the saint, expressed a hint of apology, rose and stepped past Joan of Arc into the new battlefield.

The gospel of the Lord is near at hand; this is his closest chance to wash away the stain on his reputation.

Whether it's despicable or noble, there are no fixed methods on the battlefield; as long as you win, everything is worthwhile.

Suddenly,

Under the Master's command and Vlad III's leadership, Heroic Spirits, Golems, and Artificial Lifeforms formed a mighty army and pushed back towards the enemy camp.

Having regained the initiative, Danic watched the army embark on their journey, and then followed last. As he passed Joan of Arc, Danic paused and murmured softly.

"Do you know what the biggest rule of the Holy Grail War is, Your Highness?"

In an instant, Danic's elegant demeanor vanished, like a hyena revealing its true, crazed nature. His eyes flashed with arrogant disdain, and he sneered.

"That means there are no rules!"

Rumble~~!

Thunder rumbled across the sky, arcs of light flashed, and the etheric tides surged and exploded continuously.

Under Caster Avisbro's control, bird golems with wingspans of tens of meters grabbed swarms of artificial life and earthen golems from the ground, breaking through the aerial garden's fire blockade like transport planes to deliver the advance troops.

Thousands of dragon tooth soldiers surged out from all parts of the courtyard, transforming into a pale white tide of bones that engulfed the invading enemy.

Amidst the tense atmosphere, the arriving heroes also entered the arena, each seeking out their opponents.

During this time, the aftershocks of the battle between the heroic spirits rose and fell, the shattered limbs of the golems and dragon-tooth soldiers were scattered everywhere, and the entire sky was painted with a colorful background.

A new round of chaotic fighting has gradually intensified.

"Then, I'll leave the rear to you, Ruler."

Having achieved his goal, Danic looked at the excellent situation before him with satisfaction, curled his lips, waved dismissively at the lone saintess, made a mocking request, and then strode forward to the stage he had longed for.

As the figure of the Thousand World Tree Clan Head disappeared into the Sky Garden, Jeanne, who had remained silent, looked up into the distance, a complex bitterness flashing in her eyes, and murmured something through her tightly pursed cherry lips.

“Danick, the rules aren’t actually protecting them, they’re protecting us…”

Unfortunately, the Thousand World Tree Clan Head and the Heroic Spirits, who were eager to take the stage, could not hear these unpleasant but truthful words carried on the wind.

Meanwhile, in the sky garden, in the main hall.

Samael, seated on his throne, gazed at the various magical projections where the battle was at a stalemate, his eyes sweeping over each face before snapping his fingers crisply.

"Now that everyone is here, let's get started."

Semiramis nodded slightly, put down her wine glass, and activated the preset magic circle.

In an instant, the aerial garden shook violently, and the unfolding magic arrays and internal rotating mechanisms divided the entire fortress into several sections, separating them from each other.

Upon seeing this, Danic, who had followed the army into the enemy camp, couldn't help but sneer.

Divide and conquer? That's nothing but a desperate struggle like a cornered beast!

"Listen up, all descendants and servants of the Yggdrasil! Advance with all your might toward the marked center! Whoever reaches the finish line first will gain the right to use the Holy Grail first after this battle!"

Upon hearing Danic's words, the Masters and Heroic Spirits, filled with longing, were immediately stirred and moved toward the main hall of the Sky Garden without prior arrangement.

You want to take away my troops? You'd better be able to stop them!

The Lord of the Thousand Worlds turned his head and glanced at Finn and Diarmuid beside him, full of confidence, and waved his hand to give the order to attack.

Faced with the all-out attack of the Thousand World Tree Clan, the Clock Tower Heroes, who had just experienced a fierce battle and had not yet had time to catch their breath, had no choice but to collectively step forward to fight in order to slow down the enemy's advance.

Having learned from their previous battles, the heroic spirits sought out their old rivals and began to fight.

Mordred and Siegfried were locked in a fierce and evenly matched battle;

Karna and Vlad III fought fiercely.

Achilles and Chiron began a Pancrassian brawl, a display of teacherly affection and filial piety between master and disciple.

Atalanta used her Noble Phantasm, "Divine Punishment Boar," to transform into Berserker and collide with the enemy berserker, who was unafraid of pain and death.

Taking advantage of the terrain, the Empress simultaneously suppressed Avisbro, who was trying to convert the Sky Garden, and Astolfo, the disruptive force in team fights who was running around everywhere.

As far as the eye could see, the battle was at a stalemate, with the Clock Tower even gaining a slight advantage.

But Danic remained unconcerned, his smile growing even wider.

Because those fools in the Clock Tower clearly no longer had the strength to fight against the two trump cards he had placed his hopes on.

"Let's go, Lancer, we're heading to [The General]."

Danic gracefully dusted off non-existent dust from his clothes, gripped his cane, and strode toward the passageway leading to the central hub.

Finn smiled and followed up: "As you wish, Master."

Meanwhile, Diarmuid, the chief knight who was with his lord, followed closely behind without saying a word, heading towards the finish line of victory.

At this moment, inside the main hall.

The Assyrian empress, busy fighting two opponents at once, glanced at Danic and his two ace servants who were constantly approaching from the tunnel in the magical projection, and couldn't help but look at her superior behind her, giving a soft snort of reminder.

"Your Majesty, it seems you are about to be checkmated. If you have any bad ideas, please use them as soon as possible, otherwise I will not have the energy to take care of your safety."

As she spoke, the vengeful Semiramis spoke in a mocking tone, her face radiating an almost overt schadenfreude.

Samael tapped his head, looked down, and spoke softly.

"So, it's your turn."

As that gaze swept over, Liu Daolingxia, standing on the steps, nervously picked up the swaying little murderer like a mother hen protecting her chicks, her face pale and her eyes full of pleading.

"grown ups,

Jack, her injuries haven't healed yet. I'll do anything, please..."

"stop!"

Hearing the plaintive plea, Samael twitched his lips, raised his hand to his forehead, and quickly stopped Liu Daolingxia from playing the victim, pointing impatiently behind the mother and daughter.

I mean him!

Everyone turned around, eager to see who this hero was who had turned the tide.

Following Samael's gaze, the group was astonished to see a brown-haired man peeking out from behind a stone pillar, dragging a typewriter along.

Damn, how could it be this rip-off?

Upon seeing this, everyone looked at each other in disbelief, unable to believe their eyes and ears.

Caster William Shakespeare is a Servant who's always slacking off, constantly dabbling in the game, and a total liability in raids with zero damage output.

Expecting him to fight against the Grand Master and Chief Knight of the Fiona Knights outside seems unrealistic, doesn't it?

"Oh, damn it, is the deadline already?"

At this moment, the middle-aged office worker, holding stacks of papers and with bloodshot eyes, scratched his messy hair, looking conflicted and pained, and then tentatively asked.

"Boss, the draft isn't perfect yet. Can you give us a few more days?"

"My usual practice is to stew pigeons that like to coo."

Samael smiled slightly, his expression unusually kind.

"So, could you repeat what you just said, Caster?"

"No, no, it was just a little joke to liven things up before the show started."

Shakespeare, realizing the implication, snapped to attention and quickly shook his head in denial of his pigeon-dodging behavior. Then, like a host giving a speech before the opening of a theater troupe, he tipped his hat to the audience, excitedly picked up his manuscript, and delivered a passionate declaration.

"Our name is William Shakespeare, a humble first-rate writer! Come on, let's begin! Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. No smoking! No photography!"

"Words are more enduring than life, and the pen is more persuasive than weapons. The whole world is my stage. Now, the performance has begun, and thunderous applause is due!"

With expressive and impassioned body language, Shakespeare excitedly throws a large stack of manuscripts toward the dome of the hall. The pages filled with writing flutter down, and each letter seems to come alive, peeling off the paper and transforming into streaks of light that blend into the entire courtyard, as if turning it into a grand and magnificent theater.

"Now, for the first scene, please welcome our three main characters!"

As the narration gradually faded away, the people in the hall suddenly realized that three of the Masters who should have been present were missing.

They are Reines, the head of the El-Melloi family; Shion, the top student of Atlas Academy; and Gina, the genius gamer.

Meanwhile, Danic, having destroyed traps and passed through the passageway, entered the hall, which resembled an open-air stage. He stared in astonishment at the three figures that suddenly appeared in the center of the stage, sensing their familiar presence.

A Servant? How could that be!

"boom!"

The dull thud of a heavy object hitting the ground echoed first in the hall. A girl wearing an elephant-head woolen hat, with a small belly, holding a heavy axe, and dressed in loose pajamas, scratched her head and revealed a not-so-bright, silly smile.

"Yo! I ate a meal, took a nap, and woke up to find myself a god. You probably don't know what I'm talking about, but I don't understand it myself either. It seems like I have some extra things and experiences in my head, and that's how I ended up like this. Okay~, to sum it up, let me reintroduce myself. I'm Ganesh, a god-type servant who just happened to be passing by. No need to be polite, just call me Miss Ganesh."

Immediately afterwards, a man with brown skin, dressed in purple Egyptian clothing, watched the fine sand slip through his fingers, murmured ethereal words, and looked up into the distance with empty and distant eyes.

"With my body of red sand, I save all things from sin. I am here, one of the nine pillars of Egypt, the successor to Osiris, the god of the underworld."

“Sima Zhongda has summoned me. Of course, you may also call me Reines Elmello Archizorti.”

Finally, Reines, relieved, stepped forward with a graceful gesture, revealing the answer. Her eyes sparkled with confidence.

"We are pseudo-Servants born from stories, summoned to this world. It is a pleasure to meet you all from Yggdrasil."

Chapter Sixty-Three: The Unwavering Support, the Ever-Changing Carry (4.3k)

How is this going?

The bewildered crowd in the hall stared at the three pseudo-heroic spirits that had suddenly appeared in the magic projection, and all turned to look at the two instigators on the field.

"Ah, what a fervent gaze! How I miss it!"

Instantly, Shakespeare, now the center of attention, closed his eyes and immersed himself in the exposure, his gesticulating movements carrying a touch of frenzied elegance, as if he were conducting an orchestra, composing a wonderful melody.

However, the two scrutinizing gazes from behind, emanating from their high positions, jolted the writer, who had been somewhat lost in his reverie, awakening him from his pleasant memories. He shrank back in fear, quickly changed the subject, and shook his head with a forced smile.

"Unfortunately, in this magnificent drama, we are merely mediocre story recorders."