He Tore Through The Holy Grail War, And You Still Call Him A Dragon?

"Hello there."

Fingel saw the group of three approaching and decided to greet them first. It wasn't as though they needed to waste time chatting at the doorstep of the final boss, but knowing one's teammates was always better than fighting blind.

The short white-haired knight girl looked harmless at first glance, but from her wild entrance alone, Fingel knew she was basically a humanoid fighter jet.

The giant armored figure—Chiyo in her Ō-yoroi—was self-explanatory. Cold, imposing, and overwhelmingly cool. Compared to Fingel's bloated, ugly white-painted mech, it was heaven versus earth. His impression of the equipment division's madmen dropped another 3.6%.

And lastly, there was someone he recognized—Shirou, whom he'd met once in the Night Banquet. Back then, Fingel had been barely conscious, but still—better late than never to properly say hello.

"Yo! Long time no see, brother. I'm on my way to fight the boss. How about we party up?"

He extended a hand eagerly—forgetting that he was still sealed inside the ugly mech. To Shirou, the massive metal arm looked more like a grab designed for crushing humans. Shirou instinctively stepped back.

Chiyo stepped forward, blade drawn, interposing herself.

Fingel, failing to stop in time, stumbled forward. His mech's clumsy legs caught on something, and with a thunderous crash—

He fell flat on his face before Shirou.

…The flaws of the bulky mech became clear. Compared to Chiyo's, which was perfectly balanced and agile, Fingel's contraption was pathetic. He thought bitterly: better to slap tank treads on it than keep these useless legs.

"Cough—just a misstep!"

He rolled over and, with an awkward kip-up, stood again.

Inside he cursed the equipment division's lunatics—why was his mech so trash compared to others?—but outwardly, he smiled.

"Shirou, right? Long time no see. Last time in Nibelungen we didn't talk much. You probably know my Servant Archer better!"

"Oh… it's you. I remember." Shirou had already guessed when he saw Heracles beside him.

They had fought Yamata-no-Orochi together. Fingel had been nearly unconscious the whole time, and even burned a Command Seal to extend Heracles' fighting time.

"This man said 'Nibelungen'—did he mean the mirrored world?" Shirou thought.

"Haha! Glad the hero remembers! Let me introduce myself properly this time. Name's Fingel, enrolled in Cassell Academy in 2001, top of the class. Came to this Holy Grail War for one reason only—to finish my damn internship credits and finally graduate!"

He ground his teeth at the last words. He had wanted to sound cool and accomplished, but stuck in this tin can, there was no "cool" to be had.

Shirou blinked. "Cassell?"

"You don't know? Our academy's been around in North America for years. Big name. But hey, makes sense. A guy like you wouldn't care for our shallow pond. Even our Headmaster would have to show you respect."

Fingel waved it off. This wasn't the time for lengthy explanations. They needed to plan their assault on the shrine.

Shirou only nodded quietly. With this strange world lacking gods, histories could well have diverged. A new, unknown faction wasn't surprising. Answers would come later—from Sami.

"Let's strike directly."

Heracles was the first to speak. No need for tricks. In the god's own domain, stealth was pointless.

"…Uh, maybe we can still—" Fingel's knees shook. He imagined the mech exploding, as all equipment division creations loved to do. He remembered their farewell chant, "The wind is bleak at Yi River, the warrior does not return…" and nearly fainted.

They hadn't really sent him as a suicide bomb, had they!?

"I agree with Heracles." Shirou interrupted. "When Amaterasu fled earlier, I felt it. We are being watched. The god knows all of us already. We cannot hide."

"Seriously?!" Fingel hissed.

"Then—hypothetically—what if we surrendered? Or… negotiated? Just walk up and say, 'Hello, we come to talk!' Persuade the boss to stop?"

Shirou stopped him with a hand. "She's not the type to parley."

Nono had described her side-reading vision: countless lives harvested, their souls turned into demons or fuel for godhood. This wasn't someone you negotiated with.

"Eh, hero, you never know until you try! Won't cost us anything—"

"Coming."

Melusine suddenly looked skyward.

Shirou's eyes narrowed. "Exactly. She'll never compromise."

Fingel was still lost. "What's coming—?"

"Enemy!"

A searing light descended like the sun itself.

Boom!

The street became a blazing inferno, shops and buildings incinerated, then blasted apart by the shockwave.

"Holy crap! That was close!" Fingel was saved only by Heracles dragging him away.

He staggered, armor glowing hot, and looked up—

And saw her.

A golden nine-tailed fox, blazing in the sky.

"…That's not a minion. That's a raid boss!"

Shirou squinted. No—this was Amaterasu's dark side. Her berserk form.

"Amaterasu has lost reason," Chiyo said flatly. "We cannot speak to her now."

"I'll handle her." Melusine stepped forward. "She flies. Leave this to me. You follow the plan."

Shirou nodded. "Be careful."

Melusine hugged him quickly, pressing her cheek against him before shooting off into the sky. "Leave it to me!"

"…Master," Chiyo called softly.

"What is it?" Shirou turned. But her armor hid her emotions.

"…Nothing."

Inside, she trembled. Every time another woman touched Shirou so casually, she felt her sanity fray. But she forced herself cold. Now was not the time.

——

They pressed on, one fighter fewer.

"Careful! The torii are strange!" Heracles warned.

Soon, black sludge surged down the slope, filled with wailing spirits—a flood of the underworld itself.

"What the hell kind of mudslide is this!?" Fingel screamed. "Can we climb on the torii to escape—"

He shut up when the red gates collapsed under the flood.

This was no test—they were meant to be annihilated.

Shirou drew his blade, but Chiyo strode ahead.

"No need, Master. Leave this to me."

She invoked her blade, Dōjigiri Yasutsuna. Purple lightning blazed.

The sword was itself a Noble Phantasm—not as great as summoning Gozu Tennō, but enough.

Lightning erupted into a sea, sweeping the sludge and tearing spirits apart, leaving only smoke.

But more poured in, endless, as though the underworld itself had opened a mouth.

And then the sky itself rumbled.

This time, Chiyo invoked the godly power within her.

"Judgment—fall!"

Boom!

A divine thunderbolt struck, obliterating the flood. Souls were crushed into ash.

Shirou's eyes glimmered. Was this Charlotte and Sami's leyline work already taking effect?

Fingel, meanwhile, was speechless. "This… this is your Servant!? Overpowered much? You're broken already, and then you bring an overbroken Servant too? What am I here for!?"

They fought through wave after wave, Heracles even unleashing legendary archery.

The god was trying to kill them outright. No more doubt: Fingel's "negotiation plan" was dead.

"At last!"

They reached Nezu Shrine. But the shrine was gone.

Instead, massive bronze pillars rooted into the ground like anchors, channeling leyline power. At the center, a throne loomed, fed by a black-red river of souls—countless voices begging for life as they were devoured.

It was hell itself.

Even veterans of battle fell silent.

"…You've come at last."

The god spoke coldly from the throne, mockery on her lips. "Too late. I have gathered enough."

She had sacrificed countless souls, even Servants like Ibaraki, to lay the foundation for a new divine order. The "pre-update" of the dragon world's system. Next was true apotheosis.

"Humans are amusing," she sneered. "You kill each other endlessly, yet rage when I do the same. You are toys in the hand of gods."

"…Amusing? You think this is amusing?"

Shirou stepped forward, his voice like steel. "What do you take life for!?"

"Silence!" The god rose, golden eyes blazing. This mortal—always this mortal—blocking her at every step.

"Life has value only when it is given to me, Izanami!"

She spread her sleeves. Beneath her robes Shirou glimpsed rotting flesh and crawling worms.

This was no true god. Amaterasu had said it: the world had no real gods. This was a pretender, forcing herself into the role of Izanami.

And she was ascending.

No more time.

Shirou gestured. Instantly, Heracles and he loosed arrows like missiles, while Chiyo's lightning cleaved at the throne's supports.

"Die!"

The god roared.

The blood river erupted, and eight colossal heads rose—

Yamata-no-Orochi.

It hadn't died before. Of course not.

"…We split!" Heracles barked. Everyone knew what that meant.

The first split: Melusine vs Amaterasu.

The second: someone had to hold Orochi, while the rest struck the god.

Heracles volunteered.

"Careful!" Shirou warned. "It feels different—stronger!"

Indeed. Orochi's divinity was growing.

Heracles only grinned, producing a belt radiating divine power.

"The Girdle of the War God."

Once stolen from the Amazon queen Hippolyta, it was the essence of Ares himself.

Worn, it flooded his body with godly might.

Now even Heracles ascended to new heights.

(End of Chapter)

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