"That idiot Arthur, he didn't even show up?"
Mordred was furious.
Just like Saber, who had nearly fallen out with Kiritsugu just to attend this banquet—this was the Banquet of Kings. The royal names borne by those attending didn't belong to them alone, but to every subject who followed them in their era.
They gathered under the king's banner out of faith, reverence, and a myriad of other reasons. No matter what, the king they believed in represented all of that. This was why a king's name could never be insulted—because it didn't belong to the king alone.
When the lord is shamed, the vassal dies. It was as simple as that.
And yet… on such a monumentally important occasion, Arthur, the Lord of Britain, the incomparably great Knight-King in the hearts of the Round Table, was absent?!
"You've got to be kidding me!"
Though she harbored deep resentment for her father, Mordred also held an equally deep admiration for him. Now, caught in this storm of complex emotions, she felt a profound rage, even greater than when she first met Saber on that fateful night.
If her hatred on that first night stemmed from a child's resentment at not being acknowledged by their father, then her anger now came from seeing the brilliant, guiding light of her ideals being tarnished. It was a massive blow, both personally and as a knight.
"...Arthur!"
Morgan's mood was clearly no better than Mordred's, perhaps even worse. It was becoming difficult to maintain her usual cold demeanor, and she found herself grinding her teeth as she whispered the name that haunted her dreams and fueled her hatred.
As the rightful ruler of the isle, she despised the Red Dragon who had stolen her throne and had spent her life trying to topple its dynasty. Yet, as the fated ruler of Britain, Morgan was as conflicted as the very child she created. Though she hated Arthur for personal reasons, she couldn't deny the greatness of his achievements, the glory that had united all the Knights of the Round Table behind him.
She loved Britain, and so she believed that this was how Britain should be. It was so much so that even though she had orchestrated the Red Dragon's downfall, after Arthur's death, she painstakingly tried to revive him and restore the great kingdom of Camelot.
Even today, her reason for answering the call of this Holy Grail War was likely due to her accursed karmic bond with that Red Dragon.
And yet… it had come to this.
At a banquet where kings had gathered, King Arthur, representing Britain and all those who had followed him throughout their lives, was absent.
...Without a doubt, in that moment, all of Britain had been utterly humiliated.
"...Given that man's personality, he would indeed avoid such unnecessary risks," said Kairi Sisigou, who had accompanied Mordred, sighing.
To be honest, with his personality, he wasn't keen on joining this kind of gathering either. After all, mercenaries had no honor to speak of—just as the lord of mages and the head of the Tohsaka family had said, they were nothing but stray dogs.
The survival rule of a stray dog was simple: avoid unnecessary risks and shamelessly survive until the end.
But because of Mordred, he had come.
In that respect, she was a rather considerate type.
"Look, I'm the Knight of Treachery, after all," she'd said. "Though I'm pretty sure that Rider, who's just as flamboyant as Gilgamesh, wouldn't do anything to disgrace himself, I don't really like those kinds of occasions anyway. …Aargh, whatever, that idiot Arthur will definitely go, so it doesn't matter if I do or not."
"Well… is that so."
"Alright, let's go."
"Eh? Where to?"
"To the banquet, of course."
"We're going? Cough cough, I'm not really eager to go to a place like that, you know!"
"Mhm, it won't hurt to go. Besides, you said that Rider definitely wouldn't do anything dishonorable, right? In that case, it's a good opportunity to probe his Noble Phantasm and gather some intel. Plus, while I've been on missions in the Middle East, I've never really seen a pyramid up close. From a necromancy perspective, it's very research-worthy… And a banquet of kings and heroes? For a small fry like me to get a taste of that would be a once-in-a-lifetime honor."
"Just think of it as keeping me company, Saber."
"You're impossible. Fine, then."
"But you're not some small fry. You're my Master, Mordred's Master. Don't look down on yourself. If that so-called King of the Sun looks down on you… hmph, I'm the Knight of Treachery, you know!" Mordred declared, puffing out her chest, though the smile on her face was impossible to hide.
After all, she didn't care much for being a hero; her title as the Knight of Treachery was hardly heroic. But as for being a king… aspiring to be like Arthur, wanting to be the acknowledged heir, the King's Son—how could Mordred not care?
Seeing this, Kairi, trailing behind, couldn't help but smile wryly.
"Honestly, she really did want to go, didn't she."
An old uncle like him didn't mind risking his life to accompany his lady, but that other man, who was even more ruthless than he was, probably wouldn't have had the same courage… Well, it wasn't a lack of courage, but simply the belief that there was 'no need to take such a meaningless risk.'
It was a truly 'utilitarian' approach, perfectly befitting his 'kill one, save many' style.
"Ah, that man…"
Kairi's words seemed to provide a perfect excuse for Arthur's absence.
However…
"Hmph… Don't make me laugh."
Gilgamesh scoffed. "A king does not bow to a clown."
"A king bowing to a clown… Bwahahaha, that's a joke so funny my abs might split! If this were Uruk, I'd make her tour the entire kingdom, bwahahaha."
Ozymandias propped his face on his hand and sighed.
"Though I was merely acting on a whim from the start, with no particular expectations, the result is that King Arthur is absent. Well… this is indeed a surprisingly unexpected outcome."
Whether it was Iskandar trying to stir the pot or Ozymandias's unintentional 'sowing of discord,' for people like them, it was just a casual, boring act. Even if it failed, neither of them would have cared.
In fact, if their little scheme had succeeded so spectacularly, it would have made them somewhat displeased.
After all, that would only prove that the rest were nothing but nameless rats, utterly unworthy of their company.
And yet… the one who fell for it most effectively was King Arthur… pfft…
If he didn't share Gilgamesh's sadistic sense of humor, Ozymandias might have been tempted to laugh at the little girl.
"Those two seem rather embarrassed."
Watching Mordred and Morgan's strange behavior, Illya mumbled indistinctly while stuffing her face with the fruit and juice Ozymandias had prepared in advance… Well, normally it should have been fine wine, but noticing Illya's rather precarious age and considering the country's laws, the Pharaoh had thoughtfully instructed his familiars to switch it to juice.
"It can't be helped. After all… it's a banquet of kings, yet the vassal shows up while the king runs away. There's no way they'd be happy about that."
It was a classic case of 'we, your subjects, are ready to fight to the death; why has Your Majesty surrendered first?'
Without a doubt, Britain was the most disgraced party here. For any other king, it would just be their own discomfort. If they had no followers, they could console themselves that no one saw… though if they did something like this, the data would probably be transmitted back to the Throne of Heroes after the Grail War, and their original selves would likely have a meltdown.
But Saber's case… it blew up right here and now. Not to mention, those two were twisted fans of the king.
The result was no less than an idol's hardcore fans witnessing their idol's complete downfall and ultimate humiliation…
Perhaps it was because they couldn't bear the shame.
"Master, let's go!"
Mordred's face was dark as she made her decision.
Kairi, though looking resigned, nodded. He quickly and stealthily grabbed a golden decanter filled with the temple's finest wine, along with the platter of delicacies, and made his escape. And that Saber… she also made sure to grab a handful of food on her way out.
Her mouth was still stuffed full, leaving only a mess behind.
Watching this from his throne, Ozymandias's eye twitched, but after a twitch of his lips, he said nothing, merely waving his hand at the servants in the temple. At the same time, he subconsciously glanced at Morgan.
It was as if he were asking—This person is from your Britain? You don't even feed them properly?
In response—
Morgan's face had turned a shade of green.
"Master, let's go too."
"Eh…? We're leaving? It's my first time in a place like this."
"...Then you can stay here by yourself."
Morgan said coldly, and in the next moment, she vanished in a shower of spirit particles.
Her movements were swift.
Completely disgraced. The face of all of Great Britain had been utterly lost thanks to that damned Red Dragon and that rebellious child… If she stayed any longer, she was afraid those other kings would turn her into a laughingstock and humiliate her to the point of suicide right then and there!
And so, only Manaka Sajyou was left.
The Banquet of Kings hadn't even started, and not only had no more Servants arrived, but two had already left.
At this point, only Iskandar, Ozymandias, Enkidu, Gilgamesh, Ishtar, and… Illya remained in the temple.
"It seems this is the number of people willing to attend the banquet," [Illya] remarked, watching through Illya's eyes. With only six Servants, not even enough for a full Holy Grail War, she wasn't too surprised.
The Assassin duo, Hassan, was never one for open and honorable occasions, so he definitely wouldn't come. As for Kama… although she was a goddess, her personality was the complete opposite of Ishtar's. She couldn't care less about so-called divine dignity. And her Master, that helicopter-girl, wouldn't dare come near a dangerous place like this giant tomb even if you gave her eight guts.
The fish-eyed one was even less likely. If she were in the Saber class, she might have had some spirit, but in her current state… she was just a mentally unstable murderer. Even if she dared to come, Ozymandias would probably just blast her out in disgust.
As for Berserker, Lancelot was already GG… probably? He didn't believe it, at least not until he received the Servant's soul.
And Morgan and Mordred, they came, but because Saber didn't, they left in shame mid-banquet.
"Honestly, for it to turn out like this… It truly displeases me."
"Well, don't mind it, King of the Sun. There was never a place for mongrels and clowns at a king's banquet. In fact, allowing those mongrels to observe would have lowered the tone of this banquet."
"Especially a useless goddess like her… Hmph, just seeing her step in here makes the wine in my cup taste bland."
"Huh? What did you say?! You disrespectful, god-fearing Gilgamesh!"
"They're at it again…"
Aoko sighed, exchanging a resigned smile with Irisviel, with whom she had been getting along splendidly.
"Enough, King of Heroes, Sumerian goddess. My temple is not a place for your squabbles."
"But you are right. The Pharaoh's brilliance is indeed a grace that the lightless cannot enjoy."
"…What should we do, Master? Should we run too?"
Hearing Ozymandias's words, Illya, her lips stained with purple grape juice, sat up straight, her heart pounding with panic.
She had thought this banquet would be a lively affair where she could just blend in and go with the flow. But that seemingly nice big brother now seemed a little terrifying! And this banquet…
Looking at Enkidu, Gilgamesh, Iskandar, and Ishtar, along with their host, Ozymandias—having already witnessed their power to some extent—Illya felt like a tiny chick sitting among a flock of demigods and god-possessed powerhouses. It felt extremely dangerous!
"Well… if you want to leave, it's fine. But if one more person runs off, I think the Pharaoh might actually lose it. Don't panic too much, this banquet should still be quite harmonious."
"At your level, if you just sit there and act as a mascot, they probably won't pay you too much mind."
"But, if you're really scared, you could try that card I gave you before we left."
"Eh? A card… is that so?"
Illya stared blankly, then took out a thin card from the pack on her thigh.
On the back was a strange symbol—a mix of fire and iron, sword and armor, looking like the emblem of some faction. On the front was a very Q-style portrait of a girl.
Before they left, [Illya] had given her this, but hadn't explained what it was, only saying it might be useful in a dangerous situation. Because things had developed so suddenly, a very curious Illya hadn't had time to ask until now.
"What is this, anyway?"
"Hmm… think of it as a 'power-up' of sorts?"