MMMS 91

Lancer took point. Irisviel clung to Ryuuto’s arm in the middle. Caster brought up the rear. Their little squad stopped in front of Kayneth’s room.

Just as Artoria raised her hand to knock—

BANG! Ryuuto stepped past her and kicked the door open without a second thought.

“Ah!”

“Ugh—!”

Two startled yelps rang out from inside.

Everyone froze, trying to process what just happened. Then Ryuuto’s expression shifted—his eyes narrowed in sudden realization.

Without a word, he stormed through the main room and kicked open the back door as well.

And there they were.

Kayleth’s fiancée, Sola, was straddling Gawain right in the middle of the bed.

They were still fully dressed—but the posture, the tension, the flushed faces… it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was about to happen once they thought they were alone.

The six of them stood crammed into the tiny room, and yet no one spoke. The air felt thick with disbelief.

"Sir Gawain." Artoria's voice came out quiet, more exhausted than angry. "You really did this." The knight she'd looked up to, caught up in something so... messy. She let out this long, defeated sigh.

"Pfft... AHAHAHAHA! Oh my god, this is too good!" Morgan had to grab the wall to keep from falling over, she was laughing so hard.

"Wait, I thought Sola was supposed to marry Kayneth..." Iri covered her burning face with both hands. "Is this... is this normal? I mean, that seems really risky..."

Her tone sounded more fascinated than scandalized.

Finally—

“Please, take your time.” Ryuuto said flatly, pulling the door shut without even blinking.

"I know a good barbecue place a few blocks from here. Anyone hungry?"

He was already heading for the elevator before anyone could answer.

"Sure."

"I'm starving."

"Whatever."

“…W-Wait! It’s not what it looks like, my king! Mother! Please, let me explain—!”

Gawain’s desperate cries were cut off by the soft click of the door behind them.

“Caster… what did you do to Sola?” Ryuuto sent the message silently, speaking mind-to-mind as the elevator descended toward the hotel lobby.

There was no way Gawain—poster boy for knightly virtue—would end up in a scene like that on his own. The timing, the setup… it reeked of Morgan’s handiwork. He remembered her sneaking off to chat with Sola a few days back. That had to be when she set the trap.

Morgan let out a quiet, satisfied laugh. “I didn’t do anything. Just shared a little secret—how to make Gawain go limp.”

“…You can do that?” he blinked. Gawain’s Magic Resistance was off the charts. And it was still daylight outside.

“I know every single Round Table knight’s weakness,” she replied, like she was listing off ingredients for a salad.

“…Are you Batman or something…”

But fate, as always, had its own sense of drama.

The elevator doors slid open—

And right there in the hotel lobby, they bumped into Kayneth. Arms full of shopping bags, clearly just back from a supply run.

His eyes widened. “You’re… Lancer’s Master… and you’re the one who defeated Archer!”

He reacted fast—one hand already reaching to call Saber with his Command Seal—

What he didn’t know, of course, was that Gawain—the so-called invincible knight under the sun—was currently out of commission. Flat on his back, betrayed by his fiancée and disabled by his own mother.

There would be no rescue.

Now, five Grail War participants stood face to face in the middle of a bustling commercial street.

“Lancer,” Ryuuto said, “you still want to finish that duel with Gawain?”

Artoria looked away, her expression stiff. “No. I’m not in the mood to see his face right now.”

“If you say so.”

WHAM.

He stepped forward and drove a fist straight into Kayneth’s gut, dropping him like a sack of bricks.

After a long day of chaos, the group celebrated their “victory” with a well-earned feast.

Ryuuto ignored all debate and chose a Chinese restaurant for a change of pace. With Kayneth officially out of the war, their only remaining opponents were Tohsaka and Archer, and Waver and Rider. So, as far as he was concerned, a preemptive victory dinner was perfectly justified.

By 7 p.m., the Fuyuki night market was in full swing. Street stalls buzzed with life, their signs glowing in warm colors, voices mixing with the hum of evening excitement.

But when they reached the spot, the restaurant looked… closed.

The windows were tinted, the lights off, and the glass doors sealed like no one had touched them in hours. Not a hint of movement inside. No welcoming staff. No chatter. Just a cold, silent storefront tucked between two much livelier shops.

“…Master, are you sure this is the place?” Artoria asked.

From the outside alone, the restaurant looked… sketchy.

He nodded. “Lancer, the owner is the kind of man who slathers everything—and I mean everything—the dishes, the utensils, even the walls… in chili peppers.”

“……I-Is it that spicy?”

“Oh yes,” he said with a grin. “It’s like getting stabbed in the tongue a thousand times with toothpicks… then someone pours salt on top just to make sure it burns.”

Artoria gulped. Not in anticipation. In fear.

“And what, the great King of Knights can’t handle a little heat?”

“Don’t be absurd, Master. Even if it's the spice of hell itself—I won’t retreat.”

With that, she marched up to the door like she was charging a castle gate, shoved it open, and shouted, “Excuse us!”

Morgan and Irisviel exchanged tired looks and followed her inside.

Ten minutes later—

Four bowls of Mapo Tofu steamed in front of them.

Each one shimmered under a thick layer of crimson oil and crushed peppers, bubbling like lava. Just the smell alone made their eyes sting.

“…”

Artoria’s earlier bravado had completely vanished. Her hand shook slightly as she raised the spoon.

“Well?” he asked, watching her closely.

“…Ugh. It looks awful. But—it’s actually good?” she blinked in surprise, eyes watering as the heat set in. “My tongue’s going numb…”

“You’re joking.” Irisviel and Morgan exchanged glances, then each took a bite.

“I’ll give it a—H-HOT!! COUGH—!!” Morgan doubled over, fanning her mouth.

Ryuuto leaned back, smug. The trap had worked.

The spice crept in slow, then hit all at once. Flushed cheeks. Quickened breaths. Their elegant composure melted away bite by bite. Sweat traced down pale necks and collarbones, catching in the dip of their throats. That slick red oil clung to their lips like gloss, each mouthful leaving a shine that drew the eye. Between the soft gasps and half-stifled moans, the table began to sound like something it definitely wasn’t.

For him, it was a feast in every sense of the word.

Thankfully, the place was deserted. Just their table in the empty restaurant. If anyone had been around, it might’ve caused a scene.

“Lord Ryuuto… doesn’t this bother you?” Irisviel asked, struggling to keep her composure between gulps of water.

He scooped another spoonful into his bowl. “Some things,” he said, “are worth the suffering.”

When they’d finally finished off the fiery feast, he dropped a bombshell.

“Actually… there is a way for both Caster and Lancer to win the Holy Grail War.”

“…?”

The Pendragon sisters turned to him at the same time, eyes narrowing like he’d just started speaking in riddles.

Irisviel didn’t even try to be polite. “That’s completely impossible.”

As the Lesser Grail, she was certain she understood the rules better than anyone.

“Six Servant souls. That’s the minimum required to activate the Greater Grail,” she said firmly, as if reciting a law carved in stone.

“No. A human soul can substitute for a Servant’s.” He said flatly. “It’s not ideal, but it works. If the quality’s lacking, you just make up for it in numbers.”

Just like what Manaka Sajyou had done in Fate/Prototype. If you offered up a few hundred human lives—sacrificed them into the Grail’s mud—the system would accept it. Even without six Servants, the vessel would overflow, and the Grail would recognize Ryuuto and his Servants as the winners.

“…What are you thinking, Master!?” Artoria stood abruptly, hands slamming down on the table. Her voice trembled fury. “Involving innocent civilians… that’s heresy. Unforgivable act-”

“Calm down, Arthur,” Morgan said flatly, not even turning her head. “You know he’d never do something like that. If he were that kind of man, the war would’ve ended the night he summoned me.”

Artoria froze.

Silence stretched for a moment, and then she slowly sat back down.

“…Sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to doubt you, Master.”

The three of them turned back to him, sensing he wasn’t finished.

“To be honest, I don’t want Caster and Lancer to fight,” he said, setting down his spoon. “That’s why I’ve been looking for a way both of you could win.”

He paused, then added, “The idea hit me earlier—while I was nullifying Kayneth and Gawain’s contracts.”

"There's a way for Caster, Lancer... and even Iri to get their wishes from the Grail."

"I could win too?" Iri's eyes went wide. She'd already made peace with her role in this war. The possibility had never even occurred to her.

Morgan narrowed her gaze. “Go on.”

Ryuuto scratched the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed. "It's not some brilliant strategy or anything. Just a simple idea... There's still one soul left that could take the place of a few Servants in the Grail."

He pointed at himself.