It is death.
It is the apocalypse.
It is the end.
For a moment, I lost my senses.
An entity possessing power comparable to the most dangerous existences—Crimson Moon, Angra Mainyu, the King of Demon Gods… and yet, this sensation was uniquely heterogeneous.
Something that could hardly be called a living organism, yet couldn't be classified as a Servant either; something that felt dead while remaining alive.
No, debating life and death regarding that being was, in many ways, meaningless. Discussing the vitality of one who could be called the personification of Death itself was nothing more than a play on words.
“The Old Man of the Mountain…”
A Grand Heroic Spirit—the Grand Assassin who stands at the apex of all those who bear the title. The director of all Hassans, a madman who lives by a fractured logic elevated to faith: an assassin of assassins who decapitates those Hassans who stray from the path.
But at the same time, he is a Heroic Spirit who understands human duty, one who fought for the sake of the Human Order—even discarding his Grand Saint Graph for the sake of ‘Ritsuka Fujimaru,’ who aided the Hassans against the great evil known as Tiamat.
That is the Heroic Spirit known as Hassan-i-Sabbah as I know him.
“…I’m not dead.”
That bizarre assassin, who only kills through head-on confrontation, always reveals himself when he intends to slay his target. Conversely, he does not show himself when he does ‘not intend to kill.’ To put it another way, had he revealed his form, I would likely be dead by now.
Reinforcing my prana defenses, I surveyed the surroundings to grasp the situation. As expected, Ritsuka was nowhere to be seen.
“What he severed was… the spatial coordinates fixed by Scáthach, and the connections between Ritsuka, Mash, Gareth, Karna, and Kiyohime… in a sense, this might be a technique a tier above the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception.”
Inferring from the current situation, what the ‘Old Man of the Mountain’ cut were likely those aforementioned links.
Of course, there are figures capable of such feats—like the mastermind holding the Holy Grail or the Lion King—but since the ‘Evening Bell’ was explicitly mentioned, it would be stranger if it were anyone other than the Old Man of the Mountain.
“…The problem is… why?”
Though he is an individual with a severely fractured cause and exists in a strange state between life and death… strictly speaking, the Old Man of the Mountain is a pillar of the Heroic Spirits who affirm the Human Order. He is even a Grand Servant. He is not the type of person who would be hostile without reason, yet he forcibly separated Ritsuka and me.
On a whim, I traced my Command Spells and attempted to summon Karna. However, as if the connection itself had been completely cauterized, a single stroke of the Command Spell vanished without eliciting any reaction whatsoever. No communication with Chaldea, no contact with my Servants… and separated from Ritsuka.
“Haha, this is the worst.”
To be honest, it was a do-or-die operation, but I thought I had secured enough insurance by involving Scáthach. I never expected that fanatical skeleton to intervene. Especially when I have no clue what his intentions are.
Regardless, there wasn't much I could do right now. If Ritsuka fell alone… that would be the worst-case scenario, but if Gareth is with him, she should at least know the state of this Singularity and lead him somewhere safe. If the truly absolute worst happens…
“I’ll have to pray the Old Man of the Mountain isn't that much of a scumbag. Or hope the Lion King, with her divine sight, lends a hand.”
The only silver lining was that, unlike the Fifth Singularity, the atmospheric mana of the entire Singularity wasn't withered to the point of exhaustion.
Though I couldn't call it lush, magical energy flowed through the earth, and there was mana in the air that could be absorbed via the Preta Path… simply put, the overall environment was quite favorable.
“Animal Path.”
As I shed blood and scattered it upon the ground, several Phantasmal birds—Monstrous Beasts from the Age of Gods—erupted from a makeshift magical circle.
These cute birds, which dropped bombs instead of eggs and exhaled fire and lightning, were the unfortunate creatures I hadn't managed to ride even once in the Fifth Singularity. Now, however, they could serve as an excellent means of transport. Leaping onto a bird’s back, I soared into the high firmament.
“The overall state of the Singularity is good.”
Before the words had even fully left my lips, a village came into view through the wide shared vision of the Rinnegan linked with the bird.
Smoke billowed into the air, and even from a distance, the flickering flames were visible. Plundering seemed to be in full swing.
“Right, of course it is.”
Reaching the village took only an instant.
As I drew closer to the burning settlement, screams, shouts, and the voices of people drunk on madness and blood began to harmonize and echo. A massive cross erected in the center of the village also came into view.
“Kill the witches!!!”
That was the first proper ‘sentence’ to reach my ears.
The next thing I saw… were the humans standing in the village.
Clad in chainmail over knee-length tunic-style cloth garments, with chain-woven caps on their heads, they held weapons that looked like axes mounted on spears. They were circling the village, their spear-tips adorned with severed heads.
“In the name of God, slay the heretics!”
“Death to the heretics! Death to those who believe in false gods!”
Dressed in armor that was clearly from the Middle Ages and shouting slogans only fanatics would utter, they zealously shrieked unintelligible chants while stabbing and hacking at people who looked slightly different from them.
“Who goes there!”
At that moment, a man wearing clothes that looked significantly better than the rest pointed a finger at me.
While those 'better' clothes were so drenched in blood they wouldn't fetch a quarter of their value, he clearly held the role of leader among this pack.
“This is the encampment of our Order of the Cross! Intruder, identify yourself!”
“…Order of the Cross?”
“Do not answer a question with a question! State your identity and kneel before God to prove your piety!”
“Prove it!”
“Prove it!”
“Good grief…”
I slowly approached and knelt before the cross in the center of the village. For good measure, I even recited the Lord's Prayer in Latin, just as Kotomine had taught me.
Though illiteracy was high in the Middle Ages, the commander seemed to understand the Latin—or perhaps he just hadn't expected me to actually kneel and bow my head before God—for he stared at me for a moment before speaking in a slightly softened voice.
“Which army do you hail from?”
“Which army, you say… Before that, you mentioned the Order of the Cross. Are you crusaders then?”
“Yes. We are a guerrilla unit formed from the auxiliary forces of the Fifth Crusade.”
“…The Fifth Crusade?”
“You must have come from far away. God’s miracle has been channeled through the King of France! In the name of God, he has performed a miracle to resurrect all the great warriors who embarked on the journey to Jerusalem!”
For a second, I just stared at him blankly.
So…
“…Resurrected?”
“That is so!”
“Indeed!”
“All of them?”
I looked at the village with a hollow expression.
By the time I had arrived, the village was already devoid of life; only empty fanatics remained, repeating their hollow cries. I naturally grabbed the commander's neck and began to slowly extract his soul.
“Gah—!”
“You! How dare you show such insolence to the commander!”
“Insolence? Cut the crap. What insolence is there to show toward scum committing such sub-human atrocities?”
“This is justice performed in God’s name!”
“Then it's even more of a joke. When did your God ever tell you to act like a psychopath? I know a certain religious fanatic personally, and he told me that not even half the guys in the Crusades actually believed in Catholicism. Especially the common soldiers; they were just there for the money.”
I yanked the soul from his head, slowly read the information etched into it, and then tossed it into the Naraka Path.
Unfortunately… he didn't know much. Except for one… very important piece of information.
The commander, his soul extracted, collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. The soldiers, brandishing their weapons, began to charge at me with guttural roars.
“Die—!”
The very next moment, those about to shout about ‘God’s Name’ were caught in the lightning dropped by my Phantasmal bird, turning into roasted corpses that smelled vaguely like grilled meat.
Honestly, I was tired of hearing those cliché lines. These weren't the kind of guys worth leaving alive anyway.
Those who had been charging so fiercely a moment ago began to hesitate and flee. When that failed, they fell to their knees and began to beg for their lives.
Discarding their weapons and unbuckling their armor, their begging… well, unfortunately, it didn't move my heart. Ransoms their families would pay, rewards from the King, information they supposedly knew… none of it could satisfy my expectations.
After collecting all the souls resurrected via the Holy Grail to extract their information and casting them into the Naraka Path, I incinerated the hideously mangled and burned corpses, performing a mass cremation.
“An army of a million, huh…”
The First through Ninth Crusades, along with all the pilgrims and priests who accompanied them, related personnel, reinforcements, and ‘all’ humans who had borrowed the name of the Crusade or were associated with it since then.
The ‘one million’ was merely the number this ‘commander’ had seen; in literal terms, it was a massive host that might be even larger.
From a rational perspective, maintaining an army of a million is impossible with Medieval technology.
Could they supply a million-man army? Obviously not. And in an era where population was the very foundation of national power, was mobilizing such a number even possible? Naturally, it would bankrupt the nation’s core.
But since there’s a Holy Grail, it works.
Is supply possible? Yes.
Does the country fall? No, but the Human Order will.
“…And the forces of the Lion King fighting against them… five thousand Enforcer Knights.”
It was a disparity in numbers that almost provoked a hollow laugh.
I found myself wondering if the Holy Grail was really this much of a cheat. No matter how incredible the Enforcer Knights were—powerful enough to slay most Phantasmal Species—it meant nothing before the sheer violence of a million. Let alone if they weren't just fodder like the soldiers I just killed, but the actual ‘Knights’ of the Crusades Narbareck had warned me about.
“Phew… Then there are two paths.”
The first was to go to the Lion King’s ‘Holy City,’ the coordinates of which I’d extracted by wringing the information out of the souls.
However, the Holy City was currently under a tight siege by the main force of the Crusades… and that siege almost certainly included Servants and Magecraft Corps. I might be able to break through if I played my cards right, but honestly, I lacked the confidence to pierce through the entire Crusade army alone and enter the Holy City.
The second was to go to the ‘Mountain,’ which the Crusades had given up on conquering and were instead merely harassing with guerrilla tactics, destroying nearby villages.
The siege there was relatively weak compared to the Holy City, and the deployed forces were fewer, so if I flew in by air, passing through wouldn't be difficult…
“…The problem is the Old Man of the Mountain. I don't know what that guy did to me or how he'll treat me. Entering that mountain under these conditions is too dangerous.”
The Pharaoh of Egypt, the Sun King, had indeed not been summoned yet.
Originally, the story of the Sixth Singularity—the Sacred Round Table Coalition—involved the Pharaoh being summoned and seizing the Holy Grail, the Lion King descending, and Richard I (presumably) gathering the sidelined Crusades. But since that was no longer the case, the current powers were divided into three.
The Lion King’s Holy City, the ‘Mountain’ of the Hassans, and the Crusades.
“…Or, there’s another way.”
I looked at the scattered corpses.
Their faces were half-hidden by thick caps and chainmail… and the chainmail was reinforced by thick cloth surcoats for extra defense.
It wouldn't be strange if a simple ‘piercing’ or two were embedded within that ensemble.
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