A tingling sensation spread across his back. Amakusa knew it wasn’t just the fear of staring down the barrel of a gun—it was the dread of his carefully laid plans crumbling before him.
Standing before them was a mysterious and powerful Servant, the very assassin who had nearly slain Vlad III, and an envoy dispatched by the Mage’s Association.
Forget whether they could defeat him—even if they did, what was Amakusa supposed to do about Sakatsuki?
He had no idea where Sakatsuki’s Master was, or whether they were watching this very moment!
Amakusa was still weighing his options, but his Servant, Empress Semiramis, harbored no such hesitation. The moment Sakatsuki pointed his gun at her, Semiramis had already marked him as an enemy.
And enemies were meant to be killed.
Her slender fingers, hidden beneath ornate robes, flicked subtly. A poison potent enough to slay a Servant seeped into the air, spreading silently. It artfully avoided her Master, Amakusa, and drifted toward Sakatsuki instead...
The gunshot shattered the church’s silence. Semiramis shuddered, her expression twisting in disbelief.
In her vision, the purple mist symbolizing her poison was split by the bullet’s path. Though it should have been unaffected, the mist convulsed like a snake struck in its vital spot before abruptly dispersing.
The sound of a fresh round being chambered echoed, followed by the crisp clatter of a spent brass casing hitting the floor. The young man smirked mockingly at the stunned Master and Servant pair.
Unnoticed until now, his irises had shifted into a deep, prismatic blue.
"Poison won’t work on me, Your Majesty."
Before the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, even concepts could be slain.
To this Servant, poison was utterly useless.
As this truth dawned on Amakusa, he realized they had no way out.
Despite all his meticulous planning, despite having seemingly secured control over nearly all the Red Faction’s Servants, he was now utterly powerless.
Aside from Semiramis—the one Servant he had personally summoned and could still trust—who else could he call upon to drive Sakatsuki away?
That Shakespeare, who spent all day holed up in his study writing stories? Even if he replicated a hundred copies of the playwright, they’d be nothing more than cannon fodder.
As for the exceptionally powerful Rider, Archer, and Lancer... even if he forced them to act, what if the battle destroyed this room? Would they turn their weapons against Sakatsuki—or against Amakusa, who had seized control of their Masters?
There was no choice left.
The moment this realization struck, Amakusa exhaled as if relieved of a great burden. He raised a hand, signaling Semiramis to stand down, then stepped forward himself, meeting Sakatsuki’s gaze with clear, unflinching eyes.
"I imagine you’ve already drawn your conclusions about what’s happening in this room, Lord Sakatsuki."
"Naturally. So I take it neither of you wants to make a scene, hm?" Twirling his revolver, Sakatsuki grinned mischievously. "I’ve been very patiently waiting for your explanation, Amakusa."
"...Then, please give me a moment." The boyish priest took a deep breath, shedding his usual disguise. As spiritual particles shimmered around him, what appeared before Sakatsuki was the visage of a savior saint—an embodiment of mercy and compassion.
The hunting robe woven with red, white, and black hues, the pale long hair tied into a ponytail—when the boy’s expression turned impassive, one could glimpse traces of the saint from the Shimabara Rebellion during the early Edo period.
After removing the priest’s black cassock, this was Amakusa Shirou Tokisada—the youth who had led the Shimabara Rebellion.
No sooner had Amakusa regained his original appearance than Sakatsuki cut him off. The black-robed young man holstered his twin guns and circled around the ancient-looking Amakusa several times, occasionally clicking his tongue.
Finally, before Amakusa could show his confusion, Sakatsuki stopped and clapped his hands.
"Hmm, yes, that’s the right feeling."
"Well, don’t you sense it, Empress?" Sakatsuki smiled at Semiramis. "Our dear priest here is radiating that troublesome, self-satisfied aura of ’Because such and such happened, humanity should just obediently accept my salvation,’ or something like that."
"Now, now, Assassin, that’s too much." Amakusa sighed, rubbing his temples as he glanced at the empress stifling her laughter. He then turned back to Sakatsuki. "From your words, it seems you’ve encountered people like me before?"
"Naturally. People like you are regulars in the Holy Grail War." Sakatsuki adopted the air of a seasoned veteran, amiably patting Amakusa’s shoulder as if he hadn’t just been threatening him moments ago. "Ahhh, to be honest, I quite like your type."
"I mean, you guys bring me endless entertainment!"
The black-robed youth clapped his hands together and declared loudly, "You’re like the proverbial shit-stirrers—always turning this filthy world upside down. The outcome may be uncertain, but the process is always spectacular!"
"T-to compare me to a shit-stirrer..." Amakusa was stunned, yet Sakatsuki’s analogy was so damn accurate that he couldn’t find a rebuttal. He could only mutter, "So... does that mean you’re giving up on opposing me?"
Sakatsuki had been waiting for this. Thumping his chest, he fully embodied the nature of a thrill-seeker: "You ’saints’ are all the same, and that’s exactly why I look forward to your next grand performance. After all, justice gone wild is far more entertaining than ordinary evil!"
Laughing heartily with anticipation, Sakatsuki truly abandoned his pursuit of the room’s mystery. He turned and strode away, leaving Amakusa and the empress to exchange bewildered glances before sighing in unison.
Though they had gained Sakatsuki’s support, why did they feel something was... off?
"Hahaha... How astonishing. To think you were such a being, my lord."
The flamboyant man in gaudy clothes abandoned all decorum, slapping the table as he laughed uproariously. Meanwhile, Sakatsuki leaned against the doorframe in his black robe, returning the smile.
"Naturally, for I have the privilege to enjoy beautiful things—before destruction comes."
"I see! So the struggle of a false saint, the clash of countless wishes, even the convergence of past, present and future—all are but a splendid play for your appreciation!"
Shakespeare effortlessly grasped Sakatsuki’s implications, his laughter growing more excited: "As I suspected! You are my quill, my right hand—the perfect actor to participate in this tale and stir this drama in my stead!"
"You flatter me, Master Shakespeare."
Facing the gesticulating playwright, Sakatsuki responded with a reserved smile.
After his confrontation with Amakusa, Sakatsuki had taken advantage of the period before Semiramis completed her Hanging Gardens—when surveillance was still lax—to evade her monitoring and visit Shakespeare’s study alone.
Just as he’d contemplated in the church, now was the time to recruit this great literary figure into the Blue Faction’s ranks.
The method was simple—he merely needed to reveal some of the Blue Faction’s plans for this Holy Grail War to Shakespeare.
Like a rabbit spotting a carrot, the playwright would then leap into the trap himself.
True enough, after Sakatsuki casually disclosed parts of their scheme, Shakespeare immediately became exhilarated.
"Marvelous... absolutely marvelous! A ’Blue’ faction beyond the Black and Red! Former victors of the Holy Grail War! Cold-blooded assassins wielding arcane magecraft!"
His mustache quivered with excitement as Shakespeare paced about the study, trembling with creative inspiration. Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, his piercing eyes locking onto Sakatsuki.
"I accept—I shall join your ranks! Let me occupy the finest seat to witness the grand opening of this spectacular play!"
The moment Shakespeare declared his allegiance, Sakatsuki felt a sudden burning in his chest—a connection being established somewhere.
Want to read ahead? 📖 Join my for early access to 30+ advance Chapters! Your support helps me write more and bring the story to you faster.