This Is My Holy Grail War [199]

A vast expanse of white snow stretched into an endless road. Along its sides, twisted, barren branches jutted out like skeletal fingers. A bitter northern wind howled through the air, forcing Naskia to pull her cloak tightly around herself.

The cold was unbearable—almost unnatural.

She lifted her gaze and found that today’s rising sun was nothing like before, its light dull and ashen, as if it might be snuffed out at any moment.

"Hoo—"

Her breath formed thick white mist, vanishing in the frigid air in mere moments.

"Master, you should turn back."

Saber still addressed her by that title, but Naskia could hear no sincerity in the word. For some reason, Saber always seemed to carry a deep-seated prejudice against magi.

"It’s freezing outside. If you fall ill, I doubt I’ll have the time to take care of you."

Saber didn’t trust her.

Or rather, he had no expectations for her at all.

The swordsman only wanted her to stay out of harm’s way—he didn’t care about whatever role a Master was supposed to play.

"Saber, I can walk through the snow for a whole day. I was born in the Arctic—my grandfather always said the land there is rich in mana."

Naskia replied, her hood already dusted with a layer of snow, but she paid it no mind. In the frigid North, she had long since grown used to the biting wind.

On the ice-covered plains, her grandfather would often take her fishing in frozen caves.

She still remembered the way he laughed so easily during those days—how she had once held the weight of a fresh catch in her own hands.

Even in the dead of winter, that old man would cook the strangest of meals, casually freezing fish in the open air.

And she, foolishly trusting, had eaten it raw in the bitter cold—only to suffer an upset stomach for an entire day.

Her grandfather had always been like a mischievous child—despite his age, he never lost his playful spirit.

But lately… something felt off.

It wasn’t just the graying of his hair.

It was the way his very being had aged—his heart had withered, his once-vibrant presence now hollow and frail, as if clinging desperately to life.

A man on the brink of death, struggling against the inevitable.

"But the enemy won’t give you the luxury of walking through snow for a whole day. The opponents in this Holy Grail War are strong—I can’t guarantee your safety."

Mistrust.

Or perhaps Saber simply saw no value in her participation.

His words were tactful, but Naskia knew he was merely avoiding outright hostility.

At first, she had assumed it was simply his nature—after all, he had already lost one Master before.

But over time, she realized—Saber harbored an inherent hostility toward magi.

"A Servant takes risks. Shouldn’t a Master be prepared to do the same?"

Naskia took it all in stride.

She had already lost one Servant—now, she had drawn the strongest card once again.

What was there to complain about?

"Master and Servant should each focus on their respective roles."

Saber was trying to convince her to stay behind the scenes.

"Okay, then. You handle the Servant’s duties. I’ll handle the Master’s."

And that was that.

As soon as Naskia severed her connection with Saber, she truly felt the desolation of this land.

Perhaps she had spent too much time at the Mage’s Association, picking up sentiments a magus should not have.

Saber had chosen a location far from civilization—an ideal place for a workshop.

But Naskia…

She wasn’t used to it.

She had always been different from others.

Yet her grandfather had still thrown her into the world of ordinary students.

One foot in the realm of magic, one foot in the mundane.

No matter how hard she tried to blend in, she could never ignore the invisible gap that separated her from them.

It was why she often skipped class.

She had been alone for so long—yet only now, in this empty world, did she truly feel lonely.

Her footprints trailed endlessly forward, stretching far into the snowy distance…

There was no end in sight.

Naskia had no idea how long it would take to reach the city.

All she could do was walk.

And keep walking.

She turned back once—only to see an endless expanse of white.

The wind whispered in her ears.

The frozen earth showed no signs of life.

Unconsciously, she quickened her pace.

She was nearly running.

And then—

The moment her boots struck solid pavement, she felt grounded once more.

The thought of finally returning home had barely crossed her mind when—

The sky went black.

The sun—once hanging high in the sky—turned blood-red in an instant.

The clouds vanished, swallowed by an unending twilight.

She felt the magic surging through the earth, uncontrolled and chaotic.

And she saw the scene unfolding before her—

"...What the hell is this?!"

The words left her mouth instinctively.

The sheer volume of flowing mana made it clear—

This city was activating some kind of self-destruct system.

That was the only explanation.

But why?

Only someone intimately familiar with this land could pull this off—turning an entire city into a hellscape.

Naskia’s hands clenched into fists, her knuckles cracking from the force.

Fury bubbled inside her.

She had fought her way out of that lifeless tundra—only to be met with this?!

Compared to this bloodstained apocalypse, the desolate snowfield suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

Frustration burned through her.

But even as the veins on her forehead tensed, her mind remained sharp.

Anger wouldn’t strip her of reason.

She was still a magus.

What could have possibly driven the city's overseers to trigger such a desperate measure?

Naskia decided she didn’t care.

At least not yet.

She would figure out what was happening first.

The Holy Grail War?

The so-called wish-granting artifact?

That was her grandfather’s obsession, not hers.

Her priority as a magus was to preserve secrecy.

And the ones best suited for that job—

Were the Church.

She had yet to contact the local Overseer.

Just as she reached for her connection to Saber, about to request his aid—

A familiar hum filled the air.

She turned.

And saw him.

Not just a familiar spirit.

Not a mere projection.

Her grandfather had come in person.

—A narrow alley bathed in crimson twilight.

A figure emerged from the dim shadows.

The alley was dark, damp, and deathly cold.

Only a sliver of bloodstained light filtered through the windows of the adjacent buildings.

And within that darkness—

A man stood.

He was young in appearance, dressed immaculately in black robes.

Yet his presence was surrounded by fluttering, winged insects.

Was he pristine?

Or defiled?

His short blue hair was neatly combed, his crimson eyes burning like embers.

Naskia knew this man.

And she knew the dragonflies that always hovered around him.

Once, they had been butterflies.

Now, they had changed.

Her grandfather always carried insects with him.

And though he looked young—

She knew how old he truly was.

He had never spoken of his exact age.

It was a family secret.

"You—"

"A little late, but I finally made it. Did you miss me?"

With a smile, he spread his arms wide, as if expecting to wrap his granddaughter in a bear hug.

But Naskia moved fast.

The moment she saw him lunge forward, she had already leaped back ten meters.

"No!"

"Oh, come now. Your dear grandfather traveled all this way just to see you, and this is how you greet me?"

"Tch. And here I thought all you cared about was the Grail."

"I was looking for Saber, but—" Makiri spread his hands in feigned helplessness. "She’s a rather cautious one, isn't she? I’ve been searching for ages, but I just can’t seem to find her."

"So you came to me instead?"

Naskia could sense it.

Her grandfather was aging.

It wasn’t obvious on the surface, but his desire for the Grail had been growing heavier by the day.

If this had been the old Makiri, his greatest concern would have been the people of this city.

But now?

Now, he was becoming a stranger.

A man whose only remaining humanity was his outward appearance.

"Of course. You are her Master, after all. Never thought the strongest Saber would sign a contract with you of her own accord."

Makiri rubbed his chin, and for the first time, Naskia noticed a faint trace of white stubble.

For a magus, extending one’s lifespan was neither easy nor impossible.

Preserving the flesh was simple enough.

But healing the wounds of the soul?

That was nearly impossible.

Perhaps the Holy Grail could do it.

Perhaps that was why Makiri was so obsessed with it.

But if his wish to "save the world" required the Grail to fulfill—

What would become of him once it was granted?

"What do you want from Saber?" Naskia asked.

"I’m not really her summoner. She doesn’t seem to listen to me much."

"But she’s the Servant most likely to reach the Grail. I have a wish to fulfill—so I need to negotiate with her."

"She’s a magus. A witch, even."

The unspoken meaning was clear—Saber wouldn’t yield.

"Hmm… that does make things tricky."

Makiri stroked his chin, but showed no sign of giving up.

"I convinced that stubborn boy to become a hero of justice," he mused. "One more witch shouldn’t be a problem."

"Servants are summoned because of their obsessions. It’s because of those obsessions that they’re so difficult to sway."

It was something Makiri had once taught Naskia.

And now, she found herself saying it back to him.

Is he that desperate?

"It’s because of those obsessions that persuasion is possible," Makiri countered.

"Now, can you tell me where Saber is?"

"...South bank of Jianhe. Near the Great Grail’s leyline."

The moment the words left her lips, she fell silent.

She watched his back as he walked away—

And felt an unfamiliar sense of sorrow.

"I see… quite the distance, huh."

Makiri murmured to himself as he strolled forward, stepping over the exposed bones of corpses without a second glance.

If this had been the old him…

He would have demanded justice for the dead.

But this road was painted in crimson, thick with the stench of blood.

As Naskia walked through this man-made hell, she realized—

The man she once knew as Makiri was gone.

Should she grieve for him?

No.

She didn’t follow.

Instead, she turned toward the local church, prepared to report the city's situation to the Mage’s Association.

She would do whatever she could to mitigate the devastation of this Holy Grail War.

At the very least—

The Mystery had to be preserved.

And the dead—

Had to be buried.

---

T/N: CONVINCED TO BE A HERO OF JUSTIFCE????

This is a fan translation of 这是我的圣杯之战 by 向希望祈祷. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!