Since the two Old Men of the Mountain forced an engagement upon us, the situation for Tristan and me had been spiraling downward into a relentless struggle.
Though Tristan had received the Gift of ‘Reversal’ and somehow managed to detoxify the poison that pierced through his own legend, the pursuit teams swarming from all directions, day and night, were constantly gnawing away at our nerves.
No matter how superhuman a Servant’s prowess may be—and despite the fact that I had halfway transcended humanity, replacing my very metabolism with that of a puppet or machine—one could do nothing against the mounting mental fatigue.
“…Tristan, are you alright?”
“I have undergone sleeplessness training; this level is no issue. However, a decline in combat effectiveness itself seems unavoidable… oh.”
Along with the sound of a whistling horn, shouts began to echo from various points.
It was a direct signal that the Crusader scouts—soldiers in quilted armor wielding long spears or halberds—would come swarming in. Swiftly, he and I concealed our presence and leaped atop a massive, sprawling tree. It was the most appropriate means to evade pursuit, but their persistence far exceeded my imagination.
“…Wait a moment, Master.”
“What is it?”
“I smell something burning. It appears they have set the forest ablaze.”
“…They really are doing everything they can!”
Confirming the plumes of smoke rising in the distance, I slowly began to absorb the magical energy in the atmosphere through my palms.
“Master, if you do that…”
“I know. I’m not going to use the Six Paths abilities.”
Prana began to swell through the Magic Circuits within my body. The Rinnegan spun rapidly, refining the magical energy into a form I could utilize. Indeed, the prana concentration wasn't as abhorrently low as it was in the Fifth Singularity, but for some reason, I felt a sense of revulsion whenever I used the Preta Path.
It wasn’t a direct corruption like when I absorbed the mud of Angra Mainyu, but every time I felt that faint unpleasantness, a small chill would run down my spine.
“…I only ever end up owing debts to Makiri.”
Though my elemental affinity is Formalcraft, I had never actually received direct instruction in magecraft from Aoko-nee or Alice-san.
The quality and quantity of my Magic Circuits were already overwhelming, and the Six Paths of the Rinnegan alone allowed me to crush most magecraft. Crucially, I possessed the Preta and Animal Paths, which were essentially natural enemies to pure magi.
—Drip, drip...
Droplets formed of prana coalesced at my fingertips, rising into the air, ascending higher and higher.
The bubbling streams of water would normally dry up under the raging flames and the scorching sun, but they did not disappear. Maintaining the property of Water, they lingered in the void. Binding with the atmospheric prana, they gradually began to transform into dark grey clouds.
“That is…”
“If it rains, even an artificial fire will be extinguished.”
“…Are you alright regarding prana detection?”
“No problem. This is a secret art of the Matou… no, of the Makiri.”
Despite the havoc I had wreaked against the Mage’s Association and the fact that I hadn't formally studied magecraft, the reason I could maintain an overwhelming advantage over ordinary magi was likely thanks to Makiri and Waver.
They were two individuals who were truly peerless in the talent of ‘teaching’ someone.
“What’s the situation?”
“At this rate, the fire will be put out quickly, but they will likely realize the rain is artificial to some extent. Since they cannot track the traces of prana... I shall have to trust in Master’s magecraft.”
“If they have a Holy Grail, they’re bound to get caught eventually, even without tracking prana. In that case, it's better to simply eliminate such dangerous interferences.”
“Understood.”
“I’m going to call the Animal Path, so check the encirclement in the meantime. See which side is the weakest.”
Upon hearing my words, Tristan leaped up, ascending to a branch far higher than the massive tree we were currently on. Meanwhile, I began to summon the Phantasmal Beasts of the Animal Path with the utmost care.
I summoned beasts that would make the Crusaders charge with foam at their mouths, and beasts that the 'other guys' in this Singularity would not be able to simply ignore.
“Master!”
“Ah, Tristan. How is it? Which way can we break through?”
“All four directions are teeming with armies. It appears at least two Servants are mixed in as well.”
“Corrupted Servants?”
“Likely...”
“…What rotten luck. Then, how long until they reach this position?”
“The forest is quite vast, and we’ve erased our tracks as much as possible, so it will probably take about two hours.”
“Camelot was to the east... then I’ll open a path toward the southeast.”
“But Master, how…?”
“I have a plan.”
Recalling the Naraka Path into which I had previously abducted and tossed Serenity, I reached into the various sundries stored within the realm of hell and pulled out a single, large, vivid red ‘fruit’ that had been kept under strict preservation.
“Reanimation Jutsu doesn't work on him, but this fellow’s very existence is a Dead Apostle. And from the 10th Rank onward, these are beings for whom death, in a physical sense, doesn't quite take. Nero Chaos was like that, and this guy might have overcome death in a similar fashion.”
“Would that not be dangerous? If it is the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors Master mentioned…”
“That won’t be an issue. The master-servant contract is firmly established... well, and if not, so what?”
Tristan gave me an incredulous look.
With shouts echoing from all sides and the enemy approaching within striking distance, he looked as if I were making an absurd joke. But truly—so what?
“I told you, this guy is one of the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors. Specifically, an immense being belonging to the 7th Rank. You know? The Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors basically have no true rankings; someone at the 27th could beat the 10th depending on pure ability. That’s why they are fundamentally very sensitive about each other’s positions and whereabouts.”
“…Surely, Master. Are you planning to draw in other Dead Apostles as well?”
Just as the thunderous roar of Einnashe drowned out the battle cries of the advancing troops, a tree manifested—one so massive it would not be strange to call it a ‘World Tree,’ incomparable to the sprawling giants we had just stood upon.
Having seen its form once before, I could only laugh madly, joyfully watching as its branches and trunks lunged out in a tangled mess to pierce the hearts of the vanguard that had just arrived, sucking out blood, bodily fluids, and even consuming the corpses whole. Tristan, however, was so bewildered by the sight that he could not close his mouth.
“From the beginning… was this your plan since the moment we entered the forest?”
“Hardly. Originally, this was a secret weapon I had no intention of using here. Since I’ve officially been credited with suppressing the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors, resurrecting one is bound to make the Holy Church throw a fit... Haa, what a pain.”
It wasn’t something I could have used in the Fifth Singularity where the prana itself had vanished, and resurrecting it in a den of monsters like the Seventh Singularity would only lead to a high chance of it being shredded by Kingu or Gorgon—or worse, cloned by Tiamat with horrific results.
“But even if it’s Einnashe, fighting two corrupted Servants will be difficult. Its power is in a weakened state, and it’s only just been revived. On top of that, if the other soldiers attempt a coordinated assault, the win rate is maybe one-tenth at best?”
“But according to Master’s logic, won’t ‘they’ come?”
Indeed. The Crusaders can never leave Einnashe be.
I don’t know what the 'other guy' who summoned the Crusaders to this world is thinking, but the fundamental cause of the Crusaders is the same as that of the Holy Church. And can the Holy Church truly pass by with Dead Apostles right before their eyes?
“Found them! They’re over there!”
Watching the main body of the Crusaders approach the heart of the Disbelieving Forest, I let a smile spread across my face.
“Now, kill each other.”
“…What is that? It seems like a Dead Apostle, but was there ever one like that?”
Meanwhile, a boy enjoying a leisurely moment high in the sky through the Demon of his left leg smiled as he watched the scene below.
His ‘Princess’ had vanished without a trace, and the madman who could at least be called an ‘ally’ had long since disappeared somewhere, muttering about whom he was going to kill. He hadn’t liked the fellow from the start, and he’d been wandering around just killing time with nothing interesting to do. Suddenly, however, the presence of a fellow bloodsucker—one that had appeared out of nowhere—brought a surge of momentary vitality to his mind, which had grown dull with Alcueid's disappearance.
“Al~right, shall we go then!”
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