DW DXD Remastered Chapter 6: Planning the war (Patreon)

Fuyuki City, Hana Residence, 7:30 P.M.

The soft hum of the heater filled the dining room, the glow of the ceiling light reflecting warmly across the polished table. The savory aroma of miso soup and grilled fish lingered in the air, a simple but comforting meal prepared by Misuki herself.

“You three are late,” Misuki said, her tone somewhere between scolding and amused as she set the last plate down. “To leave this poor injured woman at home alone… really now.”  

Issei, Tamamo and Yuuka were in the process of sitting down on the table, when Misuki spoke. Her mock indignation earned a sweatdrop from Issei, who scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Gomen, Misuki-san. I went to pick Yuuka up from school but we were having too much fun and kinda lost track of time.”

“It’s fine, Issei,” Yuuka said, rolling her eyes as she took her seat beside him. “Kaa-san’s just being dramatic.”

“I call it being rightfully concerned,” Misuki replied smoothly, crossing her arms. “You try staying home wondering if the people who saved your life have gotten themselves killed by sundown.”

Meanwhile, Tamamo had taken the seat closest to Issei, smiling a bit too sweetly for Yuuka’s liking. “That’s true Darling is truly naïve and innocent,” She said, hugging his arm and rubbing her cheek against his shoulder in exaggerated affection. Tamamo didn’t need to eat but it felt weird having a guest and not eating with them. Issei would feel bad if she was left out. So to make her master happy Tamamo went along with it.

“Wha—Tamamo!” Issei sputtered, nearly dropping his chopsticks.

“Don’t worry,” Misuki said with a light giggle, watching the fox spirit’s antics with bemusement. “I’m just glad my daughter has such a considerate… friend.”

Yuuka’s eyebrow twitched at the pause. Tamamo smirked. Issei wanted to sink into the floor.

They eventually began to eat, though the lively atmosphere carried a faint undercurrent of tension as they waiting for Sherri to begin their game plan.

And, as if on cue, the watch on Issei’s wrist pulsed faintly with blue light.

“Now that everyone is present,” Sherri’s clear, measured voice resonated across the table, “I shall explain the Holy Grail War and our opponents to those who remain unaware.”

The room fell silent instantly. Misuki straightened slightly, and Yuuka put her chopsticks down, her eyes fixed on the glowing device.

(How lucky of you, Partner,) Ddraig’s amused rumble came from Issei’s left arm. (If we didn’t have this A.I., we’d be going in blind.)

Sherri continued, her tone calm but commanding. “The Holy Grail War is a conflict involving seven Magi, known as Masters, each of whom summons a Heroic Spirit,  a legendary figure from history, myth, or legend as a Servant to fight on their behalf. The last surviving pair earns possession of the Holy Grail, a relic capable of granting a single, rule-free wish.”

Misuki’s eyes widened. “A true wish? That can grant anything at all?”

“Correct,” Sherri confirmed. “Though such power, in the wrong hands, has historically led to catastrophe.”

“Must be dangerous if it can do something like that,” Yuuka murmured. Then she turned toward Issei. “So… what’s your wish?”

“Haha…” Issei rubbed the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly. “Funny you should mention that. I do have one, but I’d rather achieve it myself and not cheat.”

Yuuka tilted her head. “Oh? And what is it?”

He puffed out his chest proudly. “I’m gonna be Harem King.”

A beat of silence followed.

“…That’s nice,” Yuuka said flatly, a tiny sweat drop forming on her temple. ‘Hopefully, I can keep that number small,’ She thought grimly.

“Darling,” Tamamo cooed, leaning closer, “you don’t need anyone else. You have me.”

“Tamamo, not helping,” Issei hissed, face red.

Misuki chuckled behind her teacup. “Well, that’s certainly… ambitious. At least you’re honest, Issei-kun.”

Yuuka groaned softly. “Please don’t encourage him, Kaa-san.”

“What are Servants, exactly?” Misuki asked, steering the topic back before Yuuka exploded.

“Servants,” Sherri began, “Are given temporary bodies formed of mana and bound to their Masters through the Command Seals.” She paused briefly. “Each Servant is categorized into one of seven classes: Saber, Lancer, Archer, Rider, Caster, Assassin, and Berserker. Their class defines their general strengths and weaknesses.”

Misuki nodded slowly, processing every word. “And Tamamo-san is one of them?”

“Correct. She is the Servant of Caster class, a master of magecraft,” Sherri replied. “Specifically, she is the incarnation of the sun goddess Amaterasu, who descended to the mortal world as Tamamo no Mae. Because of this divine origin, her magical potential is extraordinary.”

Tamamo sighed softly, shaking her head. “That’s not entirely true. She and I… are different people.” Her golden eyes softened, the usual mischief fading for a moment. “Amaterasu was the goddess. I’m just the part of her that wanted to live, to love, to be human. The rest… is just history twisting things that were never meant to be understood.”

The table went quiet again.

Issei, feeling the weight of her words, gave a reassuring smile. “Doesn’t matter what you were before. You’re you now and that’s enough for me.”

Tamamo blinked, startled by the sincerity in his tone. Her lips curved into a small, genuine smile. “Mikon! Darling… you really know how to say the sweetest things.”

Yuuka rolled her eyes but couldn’t help a faint blush. ‘Damn him and his dumb sincerity.’

Misuki smiled softly at the scene, the strange family dynamic that had somehow taken root in her home. Finally, Misuki broke the silence. “Sherri, who are the seven Magus?” 

The AI’s circular light on the watch flickered. “The first is Kiritsugu Emiya, the Master of Saber. To the rest of the world, he is a mercenary and a terrorist. To the Mage’s Association, he is known as the Magus Killer, a man who hunts rogue Magi and supernatural threats through any means necessary. He is a master of firearms and explosives, willing to sacrifice anything or anyone to complete a mission… Or, at least, that is what he wants the world to believe.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Misuki said quietly, tapping her chin. “The U.S. government has him listed on their most wanted database. They’re offering a huge bounty for any information on his whereabouts.”

“Wait, seriously?” Issei blinked. “He’s that bad?”

"Does he have any weaknesses?" Yuuka says, worried at knowing he was a terrorist.

Sherri continued. “Weaknesses: his wife and daughter.”

Yuuka frowned. “No, I meant weaknesses we can actually use. You know, in case he tries to kill us.”

Sherri’s voice did not falter. “Kiritsugu has no formal martial arts training but uses reinforcement magecraft to enhance his body. This increases his speed, durability, and reaction time beyond normal human limits. He carries multiple types of grenades, smoke screens, and firearms. However, while deadly to humans, he lacks the power to harm Servants. Issei is now capable of defending himself, but defeating Kiritsugu directly would be highly improbable unless he is caught completely unaware.”

Both Issei and Yuuka froze.

“Wait—‘defeating’ as in… killing?!” they shouted in unison.

“Yes,” Sherri said simply. “Kill.”

“I don’t wanna kill anybody!” Issei protested, panic in his voice. “That’s not what I signed up for!”

(Partner,) Ddraig’s deep voice rumbled. (I understand your hesitation, but you must realize something. The others won’t hesitate. This is a war. They will stop at nothing to end you and anyone close to you. Mercy is a luxury few can afford.)

Issei clenched his fists. “There’s gotta be another way… I don’t want anyone to die because of me.”

“There are three possible alternatives,” Sherri explained. “First, eliminate their Servant. The second, force a Master to surrender their Command Seals, either willingly or through breaking their contract. Third, destroy the Holy Grail entirely.”

“Destroy it?” Issei repeated, hope flickering in his eyes. “If we do that, the fighting would stop, right?”

“In theory, yes,” Sherri replied.

“Then how do we destroy it?”

There was a faint hum before she answered. “The simplest method would be to destroy the lesser Grail, the foundation of the Greater Grail system.”

“Where is it?”

“Incorrect question,” Sherri corrected. “The lesser Grail is not a place, but a person. Her name is Irisviel von Einzbern, the wife of Kiritsugu Emiya.”

The room went still.

“...A person?” Yuuka whispered.

“Affirmative. She is a homunculus, an artificial human created by the Einzbern family. Her purpose is to act as the vessel of the Holy Grail. When four Servants are slain, the Grail within her will awaken, at which point her body will be destroyed, and the true Holy Grail will manifest.”

Issei’s eyes widened, his voice barely audible. “You mean… she just dies?”

“Yes.”

Misuki’s fingers tightened around her cup until it creaked. “That’s monstrous,” she said bitterly. “Did that man do this to her?”

“No,” Sherri answered. “Her fate was determined by the Einzbern family. She was created for this purpose. It is… her design.”

Yuuka swallowed, her expression softening. “And she just… accepts it?”

“Why?” Issei asked, almost pleading. “Why would anyone agree to that?”

“In fear that the Grail could be stolen or damaged, the family engineered vessels that could defend themselves, that is her purpose and has no say in the matter.” Sherri explained.

Issei slammed his fist on the table, startling everyone. “Then why doesn’t he stop it?! He’s her husband! How can he just let that happen?!”

(Partner, you already know the answer.) Ddraig’s voice carried an unexpected note of solemnity. (A true wish is something humans will kill, die, or sacrifice everything for.)

Sherri added, “From what I can deduce, this burden has already begun to destroy Kiritsugu emotionally. Irisviel has accepted her role because she was programmed to obey her purpose.”

“Is there no way to save her?” Issei’s tone trembled with desperation.

“I am uncertain,” Sherri said. “The Grail’s core is infused directly within her organs. I would need time to analyze her design through the Akasha Records.”

“Can you really do that?”

“Yes. As a device linked to the Root, I can access her creation data. Please allow me time to investigate.”

Issei sighed in relief, though his expression stayed grim. “Thanks, Sherri. Please… if there’s even a chance to save her, find it.”

Tamamo leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “Mikon! Darling, you’re too kind for your own good,” She whispered, pressing her cheek against his.

He smiled faintly. “Maybe. But I’d rather be kind than be a killer.”

Sherri’s light pulsed again. “Returning to the subject: Kiritsugu Emiya’s additional danger comes from his magecraft and Mystic Code.”

“Magecraft?” Misuki echoed. “Mystic Code?”

“Thaumaturgy,” Sherri explained, “is the artificial reenactment of Mysteries, miracles that emulate the impossible through magical circuits. His specific magecraft is known as Innate Time Control.”

Issei blinked. “Japanese, please.”

“Understood. It allows him to speed up or slow down his personal time flow. He can move and react faster than the human eye can track, though it shortens his lifespan in the process.”

“Ah,” Issei said blankly. “So, he’s basically a walking bullet time hacker.”

“Essentially, yes.”

Yuuka frowned. “That’s terrifying.”

“Next,” Sherri went on, “is his Mystic Code, the Thompson Contender, a specialized handgun. The weapon itself is powerful, but its ammunition is what makes it lethal: Origin Bullets. When fired, they destroy the magical circuits of any Magus they hit, causing their bodies to collapse from within. It is the most efficient anti-Magus weapon in existence.”

“Th-That’s horrible…” Yuuka stammered, covering her mouth. “What happens if Issei gets hit?”

“Unclear,” Sherri admitted. “Issei possesses no traditional circuits, but a single Magic Core. The bullet may not destroy it, but it could cause severe internal damage. Recommendation: avoid being shot.”

“Easier said than done,” Issei muttered.

Ddraig snorted. (Don’t get shot. Brilliant advice.)

Sherri ignored him and continued. “Now, onto Saber, the Servant of Kiritsugu Emiya. She is a woman with golden hair and emerald eyes, wielding an invisible blade wrapped in wind. Her true identity is the legendary King Arthur.”

“Wait—King Arthur is a girl?! Is she Hot!?” Issei blurted. 

Tamamo’s tails bristled in offense. “Darling! Don’t go focusing on other women! You already have me!”

“I-I’m not! I’m just… surprised!”

Misuki chuckled softly. “So the legends were true in a way after all.”

“Why was she called King if she was a woman?” Yuuka asked.

“During her time,” Sherri explained, “women were not allowed to rule. She was the chosen wielder of Excalibur, and so disguised herself as a man to claim the throne.”

Yuuka scowled. “That’s so sexist.”

“Indeed,” Tamamo nodded.

Issei leaned back in his chair, trying to digest everything. ‘So that’s what I’m up against… A terrorist time-hacker, and a literal king.’

Ddraig’s chuckle echoed in his mind. (Heh. Welcome to the big leagues, Partner.)

Misuki sighed, pushing her empty bowl aside. “This war of yours just keeps getting uglier, doesn’t it?”

Issei nodded grimly. “Yeah.”

“Next would be the Master of Lancer,” Sherri began, her voice calm and steady. “He is Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, a high-ranking aristocrat from the Mage’s Association and a so-called prodigy. He is a noble from the El-Melloi family, known for their prestige and deep knowledge of magical theory. Kayneth is incredibly prideful and looks down on those he considers beneath him, which, unfortunately, means just about everyone.”

Yuuka frowned instantly, the name alone pulling something bitter from the past. “So… an arrogant rich guy?” She summarized flatly, her tone dripping with disdain.

Her mother’s lips tightened into a thin line, her expression mirroring her daughter’s. Misuki folded her arms, eyes narrowing slightly as she looked toward the window. The faint reflection of her own face gazed back at her, the flicker of memory tightening her chest.

“Precisely,” Sherri confirmed without missing a beat. “His servant, Lancer, the tragic hero Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, a warrior of the Fianna from Irish legend. He is a peerless spearman who wields two cursed spears: one that inflicts wounds that never heal, and another that nullifies magical protection.”

“Sounds like a nightmare to fight,” Misuki noted, her tone calm but laced with quiet worry.

“He is,” Sherri admitted. “Lancer is an expert in close-quarters combat. His agility and precision make him a deadly opponent. However, his greatest weakness is his unwavering loyalty and sense of honor. Unlike Saber, whose chivalry is grounded in duty, Lancer’s code of conduct can be manipulated. If you challenge him to an honorable duel or appeal to his knightly nature, you may be able to control the flow of battle.”

Issei leaned back slightly, scratching the back of his neck. “So I can just be like, ‘Hey, fight me one-on-one!’ and he’ll go for it?”

“Indeed,” Sherri replied evenly. “But I doubt the Master of Lancer would allow for a fair fight. He would see it as a waste of time and effort.”

“Ugh. A rich, snobbish guy with an ego complex,” Yuuka groaned, slumping in her seat. “I know the type.”

Misuki’s gaze softened on her daughter for a moment, then nodded with a small, knowing smile. “Yes… we’ve dealt with one before.” Her tone was quiet, carrying the weight of memory neither mother nor daughter wished to revisit.

Tamamo flicked one of her tails, resting her chin delicately on her hand as she smirked. “Most Magi are like that. Arrogant little mortals who think their tiny sparks of power make them gods.”

“This is how most magus think and act,” Sherri agreed, continuing smoothly. “They can be quite prideful of their abilities and privileges. Now be warned as Lancer’s Noble Phantasm allows him to bypass most defenses. Even Tamamo’s magic barriers might not fully stop his cursed spears.”

“Great,” Issei groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Another way to die horribly. That’s just fantastic.”

“Mikon! Darling, you won’t die.” Tamamo’s voice rose in theatrical grandeur as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing her soft curves against him with deliberate mischief. “I, your divine and beautiful wife, shall vanquish all who threaten you~.”

“R-Right, right,” He wheezed, his face turning red as her embrace nearly crushed the air out of him.

Misuki’s brow twitched. “Tamamo-san,” She said in a voice so deceptively calm that even Ddraig’s low chuckle in Issei’s mind went silent, “please refrain from strangling him with your… affection.”

Yuuka’s glare joined in, sharper than any cursed spear. “Yes, please. You’re suffocating him.”

Tamamo just smiled innocently, releasing him with a flutter of her tails. “Fufu~ I’m only keeping him warm. You wouldn’t want your darling to catch cold, would you?”

Issei coughed, his face still red. “Warm, yeah… that’s one word for it.”

Sherri, either oblivious or willfully ignoring the mounting tension, continued briskly. “Kayneth himself is no pushover. His signature magecraft, Volumen Hydrargyrum, is a fluid, mercury-based Mystic Code that can shift between offense and defense instantly. It’s a near-indestructible metallic liquid that can pierce, crush, or restrain enemies while forming an impenetrable shield around him.”

Issei blinked. “Wait—liquid metal? How the hell do I fight that?!”

“With patience,” Sherri replied. “It is powerful, but not perfect. The mercury relies on Kayneth’s concentration. If you disrupt his focus, it becomes significantly weaker. And while his Mystic Code can protect him from physical attacks, it has trouble dealing with wide-area magical assaults.”

Tamamo’s eyes gleamed with interest, her fingers tapping her chin. “Meaning I can fry him with my flames,” she mused, her tails swaying lazily behind her.

“Exactly,” Sherri confirmed. “But you’ll have to act fast. If he perceives you as a major threat, he won’t hesitate to target you first. Of course you can simply overpower his defenses, but only Tamamo has the power at the moment.”

“Then Issei will have to be smart,” Yuuka said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “If his mercury defenses are tricky, we need to force him into a situation where he can’t use them effectively—something unpredictable, or tight quarters where his fluid defense can’t spread freely.”

“That would be the best approach,” Sherri agreed.

Misuki then leaned forward, her sharp eyes thoughtful as she crossed her legs, the warmth of her teacup rising like pale mist in front of her face. “Alright, next,” She prompted. “Who else do we have to worry about?”

“The next Master is Waver Velvet,” Sherri replied, her calm voice cutting through the cozy quiet. “The youngest after Issei and the least experienced participant in this war. He’s a student from the Clock Tower who stole his way into the Holy Grail War by taking Kayneth’s relic.”

Issei blinked, confusion flickering across his face. “Wait, wait, hold on. He stole from another Master?”

“Correct,” Sherri confirmed. “Waver intercepted a relic meant for Kayneth and used it to summon his own Servant. He’s nowhere near as skilled as the other Masters, but he could make up for it with creativity and adaptability.”

“Man, that’s gutsy,” Issei muttered, impressed despite himself. “Dude basically robbed his teacher and joined a death tournament. He’s got some serious nerve.”

Yuuka raised a brow. “Or desperation,” She said quietly, swirling the tea in her cup. “Still, stealing from someone like that Kayneth guy? Sounds like suicide.”

Misuki nodded in agreement, her voice cool and analytical. “Desperation and pride make dangerous combinations. He’s either incredibly brave… or incredibly foolish.”

“And his Servant?” Issei asked, leaning forward with growing curiosity.

Sherri’s glow pulsed softly. “Rider. A giant of a man, loud, boisterous, and larger than life. His true identity is none other than Alexander the Great, the legendary King of Conquerors.”

(Hoo…) Ddraig rumbled from within Issei’s arm, his voice carrying faint awe. (Now that’s someone even I know.)

The room froze.

“Alexander the Great!?” Yuuka nearly shouted, eyes wide in disbelief. “Are you serious right now!?”

Even Misuki’s usually composed demeanor cracked, her brows lifting as she leaned back slightly in surprise. “That Alexander? The one who conquered most of the known world?”

“Very,” Sherri confirmed evenly. “Rider is one of the most formidable Servants in this war. He possesses overwhelming strength, charisma, and a powerful Noble Phantasm, Ionian Hetairoi, a Reality Marble that summons his entire army of heroic spirits to fight alongside him.”

Issei’s jaw dropped. “Hold up. You’re telling me this guy can summon an entire army!? Like—boom, instant legion appearing at your doorstep!?”

“Yes,” Sherri replied matter-of-factly. “That is what makes him so dangerous. Unlike other Servants who fight alone, Rider brings the full force of his legend into battle. He is also incredibly durable and skilled to fight head-on.”

Yuuka gawked, her voice rising incredulously. “So we’re up against an cursed spearman, a magic-using aristocrat with liquid armor, and Alexander the freakin’ Great with his ghost army! Great, fantastic, totally normal week!”

Issei let out a strangled laugh. “Oh yeah, no pressure at all! Just fighting historical conquerors and demigods, no big deal.”

Tamamo chuckled softly from her seat beside him, clearly amused by his panic. “Mikon! You’re adorable when you panic, Darling~.”

“Tamamo, this isn’t cute! I can’t fight an army!” Issei sputtered, waving his hands wildly.

“Then don’t,” Tamamo said sweetly, her tails swishing behind her like lazy flames. “Just let your divine wife handle it. I’ll charm them all into submission.”

“That’s not a strategy!” Yuuka snapped, earning a mischievous smirk from the fox woman.

“Sure it is,” Tamamo purred. “A very effective one.”

Issei groaned, dragging his hands through his hair. “Please tell me there’s a weakness or something! Anything!”

“His weakness lies in his Master, Waver,” Sherri explained smoothly. “Unlike the other Masters, Waver lacks resources, combat experience, and powerful magecraft. If you put enough pressure on him, Rider might be forced to retreat to protect his Master.”

“So…” Issei frowned, trying to summarize. “Take out the squishy mage, and the army disappears?”

“Essentially, yes,” Sherri confirmed. “Rider’s loyalty to his Master appears genuine, but that also means he will prioritize Waver’s safety above victory.”

Issei’s shoulders slumped. “That’s… not exactly reassuring.”

(Oh, come now, Partner.) Ddraig’s tone rumbled through his mind, full of amusement. (Don’t count your defeat just yet.)

“What do you mean, Ddraig? I can’t fight an army!”

(Hah! Not yet,) The dragon replied with a rumbling laugh. (But give it time. Who knows, with enough training, maybe one day you’ll have the strength of an army. Besides, battles rarely go as planned. The tide can change in an instant.)

“Yeah, usually from bad to worse,” Issei muttered under his breath.

Yuuka sighed, setting her cup down with a small clink. “Issei, look at the positives.”

He blinked at her. “There are positives?”

“Probably,” she said dryly. “For one, we’re not on their radar. Yet. If what Sherri said is true, the Master of Lancer will probably go after the Master of Rider first, especially if that kid really stole from him. So at least, for now, they’ll be too busy fighting each other to notice you.”

Issei blinked, a flicker of relief crossing his face. “Huh. Yeah… that’s actually not bad.”

Misuki smiled faintly at her daughter’s logic. “You always did have a knack for calming people down, Yuuka.”

Yuuka huffed, her cheeks coloring slightly. “I’m just trying to stop him from hyperventilating, Kaa-san.”

Tamamo tilted her head, a playful glint in her golden eyes. “Aww, how sweet. Trying to protect your future boyfriend~?”

Yuuka turned crimson. “H-he’s not—!”

“You're right. Because he’s mine.” Tamamo said with a smirk. The two women then glared at each other again, invisible lightning sparking across the low table.

Issei sighed, sinking into his seat and then leaned forward, elbows on his knees, the light from the Dimensional Watch flickering faintly against his face. “Of course,” he sighed. “Alright, hit me. Who’s next?”

Sherri’s light pulsed once before she spoke. “The next Master is Kariya Matou,” She began evenly, “and his Servant is Berserker.”

The shift in the room was instant.

Even Tamamo, lounging lazily against Issei’s shoulder moments ago, lifted her head. Yuuka froze mid-sip of tea, while Misuki’s calm expression faltered for the first time since the briefing began.

“Berserker…?” Yuuka murmured, the unease threading through her voice. “That’s never a good word.”

“No, it isn’t,” Sherri agreed quietly. “Kariya Matou is… a tragic figure in this war. Unlike the other Masters, he did not enter for power or prestige, he entered to save someone. But in exchange for his participation, he was subjected to horrifying magical experiments that have left his body in constant agony.”

The words hung in the air like cold iron.

Misuki’s eyes softened, the maternal instinct in her surfacing despite herself. “He… entered willingly? For someone else’s sake?”

“Yes,” Sherri said. “To protect a child from his family’s cruelty.”

A silence followed, heavy with something that wasn’t fear this time—something closer to empathy.

“That’s messed up,” Issei murmured finally, his hands tightening slightly on his knees. “A guy risking his life for someone else and getting punished for it? That’s not fair.”

Yuuka’s gaze flicked toward him, seeing the faint shadow cross his face. ‘He really means that,’ She thought, warmth blooming in her chest despite the grim topic.

“It is indeed tragic,” Sherri continued. “But tragedy doesn’t make him less dangerous. His Servant, Berserker, is unidentifiable.”

“WHAT?” the entire room echoed in disbelief, voices overlapping.

Tamamo’s ears twitched upright, her golden eyes narrowing. “You mean to tell us that you can access the Root itself, and you don’t know who he is?”

“Correct,” Sherri replied, unruffled. “His identity is obscured. It must be due to one of his Noble Phantasms, a defensive mechanism that blocks observation and detection.”

Issei threw his hands up, exasperated. “You’re supposed to be an all-knowing, reality-hacking super AI! How can a single guy hide from you?!”

“Magic and divine interference can still defy logic,” Sherri explained calmly. “For now I will simply provide a summary of the class. Berserkers are given a trait called Madness Enhancement, a curse that grants them monstrous physical strength and agility, but at the cost of their reason and sanity.”

Yuuka frowned, trying to process it. “So he’s basically a walking, screaming tank that doesn’t know when to stop?”

“In crude terms, yes,” Sherri replied.

“Wonderful,” Issei groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “So now we’ve got a crazy monster we can’t identify,}. This list just keeps getting better and better.”

Tamamo chuckled softly, the sound rich and melodic. “Darling, your luck with enemies is as impressive as your luck with women.”

“Not helping!”

Sherri’s voice returned, firm and steady. “However, Berserker’s madness is both a curse and a weakness. His rage can be used against him. If you can provoke him, manipulate his focus, or drive him into a frenzy, his precision will drop drastically. The more irrational he becomes, the easier it is to predict his movements.”

“So,” Issei said slowly, leaning back, “we gotta make him angry… but not too angry.”

“Exactly,” Sherri confirmed.

Misuki exhaled quietly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’ll have to walk a fine line then. Push too little and he’ll crush you. Push too hard, and he’ll lose control completely and who knows what he might destroy.”

Yuuka crossed her arms, brow furrowing. “Basically, play matador with a rampaging bull.”

“Of course,” Issei sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Alright—hit me. Who’s next?”

“The next Master is Tohsaka Tokiomi, Master of Archer.”

At the name, Misuki’s fingers stilled around her teacup. “Tohsaka?” she repeated, slow, like a memory trying to surface. “That name… it sounds familiar.”

“It’s a well-known family here in Fuyuki,” Sherri said. Her tone never changed—precise, unemotional—yet the image her words painted made the little room feel colder. “They have a long history and are known for their jewel-based magecraft. Tokiomi is the current head of the family; he wields the accumulated power of generations and he will not hesitate to use it ruthlessly.”

Issei blinked. “So another rich, smug, and probably smells like expensive cologne. Got it.”

Sherri continued. “His Servant is Archer—Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes.”

“King of Heroes?” Misuki echoed, the phrase tasting like warning. “That… sounds concerning.”

“It is.” Sherri’s glow dimmed as if illustrating something unfathomable. “Gilgamesh is, without exaggeration, the most formidable Servant in this war. His treasury, the Gate of Babylon, contains countless Noble Phantasms. While other Servants have one legendary weapon, he possesses armies of them. He can unleash them at will and rain Noble Phantasms on the battlefield like hail.”

Issei leaned forward, eyes wide enough to look like saucers. “You’re telling me this guy has every legendary weapon ever? Like, in one pocket?” he blurted.

“More or less,” Sherri said. “As the oldest recorded hero, he is the origin of many legends. Direct combat against him is exceptionally difficult; the sheer variety and scale of his arsenal is overwhelming.”

Tamamo’s expression, which had been playful and flirtatious only moments earlier, turned unreadable. Golden eyes glinted like polished coins in the watch’s light. “He sounds… arrogant,” she murmured.

“Arrogant is putting it mildly,” Sherri confirmed. “His greatest weakness is his pride. Gilgamesh believes himself superior to all other beings. He often toys with opponents rather than finishing them, certain of his own supremacy. That arrogance can be exploited, but it is a dangerous gamble.”

Yuuka’s fingers drummed thoughtfully on the table. “So he looks down on everyone. If Issei can bait him, make him underestimate him, maybe we can catch him off guard. If he sees Issei as a toy, he might not react until it’s too late.”

Misuki’s caution cut through that plan. “That’s a huge gamble.” Her eyes met Issei’s. “If Gilgamesh decides he won’t play, and he fights seriously from the first strike, there might not be an opening at all.”

Issei felt the temperature of the room pinch his cheeks. Every plan seemed to come with a cliff. He swallowed. “So basically—pretend to be small, hope he looks away for a second, then punch a hole in his ego?” He forced a laugh that sounded thin.

Sherri’s voice settled the quips before they could spin out of hand. “Do not mistake arrogance for incompetence. If Gilgamesh decides to treat an opponent seriously, he can and will end them with a single decisive use of his treasury. If you bait him, plan for contingencies. Diversions, collapses of the battlefield that limit his line of fire, or ways to forcibly close distance. You will need a plan that does not rely solely on gambling on his pride. Master, do not underestimate him. If Gilgamesh decides to fight from the beginning, there may be no way to stop him with your current resources.”

The words were an anchor, heavy and utterly clear.

Issei leaned forward on the low table, both hands clasped, his expression a mix of disbelief and fatigue. “I’ll try my best,” he muttered under his breath, “mostly not to get killed.” He gave a nervous chuckle that didn’t quite land, glancing down at the glowing red Command Seals on the back of his hand. “Okay, Sherri. Who’s the last Master?”

Sherri’s glow pulsed in steady rhythm before her calm, measured tone filled the air again. “The final Master,” she said, “is Kotomine Kirei, the Master of Assassin.”

“Kotomine Kirei…” Issei repeated, tasting the name like something sour. “What’s his deal?”

“Kirei is a student of Tohsaka Tokiomi in the art of magecraft and an Executor of the Church,” Sherri explained. “On the surface, he appears to be a devout man following the will of the Church. But underneath… this man feels nothing. No joy, no sorrow, no purpose.”

Misuki frowned, the words sitting uneasily with her. “Nothing?” she asked softly. “He doesn’t feel anything at all?”

“That’s creepy,” Issei muttered, a chill running down his spine.

Sherri continued without pause. “He doesn’t understand why he was chosen to be in the Holy Grail War and is searching for meaning and perhaps an answer to his emptiness. He’s a highly trained combatant, skilled in assassination and hand-to-hand combat. Even without magecraft, he is a terrifying opponent. His physical abilities surpass most humans; he possesses superhuman strength, speed, and precision. He has killed experienced magi with ease.”

Issei gulped audibly. “So… a priest with the personality of a corpse. Great. And his Servant?” Issei asked, dreading the answer.

“Assassin,” Sherri said simply. “But unlike the other Servants, Assassin is not a single person, but an entire group—Hassan-i-Sabbah, a lineage of legendary assassins. This allows them to appear in multiple locations at once and gather intelligence across the city.”

Yuuka blinked, eyes widening. “Wait… so he can be everywhere at once?”

“Yes,” Sherri confirmed. “But Assassin is not built for direct combat. Individually, each is weaker than most Servants. Their strength lies in deception, ambush, and espionage. They are shadows, unseen and unheard—until it’s too late.”

Issei rubbed his arms, a chill crawling up his back. “So we gotta be careful not to get stabbed from behind,” he muttered.

A heavy silence fell over the room again, broken only by the faint whistle of the heater.

Finally, Yuuka spoke, her voice steady despite the unease. “So what’s the plan?”

“For now, we need to gather information and locate the other Masters when they arrive. We must identify who poses the greatest threat and who might be reasoned with.”

“Wait.” Issei blinked. “Are you saying… we should team up with some of them?”

“If possible, yes,” Sherri admitted. “Some Masters have conflicting goals. Alliances can form if both parties gain something in return. However, we must be careful, trust is rare in a war like this. Betrayal is common.”

Issei groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Great. So we either make allies with people who could stab us in our sleep, or fight an uphill battle against broken Servants and insane Masters. No pressure.”

Before the mood could sink deeper, a familiar voice purred sweetly beside him.

“My precious beloved husband!” Tamamo cooed, sliding onto his lap like silk. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him until her fox tails brushed his back. “Fear not! I, your perfect and adorable wife, shall protect you from all your enemies~.”

Issei’s face turned several shades of red. “Tamamo—air—!” he wheezed, flailing as her chest smothered him completely.

“Ah! My apologies, my beloved!” She gasped dramatically, releasing him at once. Her golden eyes sparkled mischievously. “I just love you so much.”

Coughing and catching his breath, Issei still managed a small, dazed smile. “Thanks, Tamamo. Honestly, not a bad way to die.”

Yuuka rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, “Idiot.”

(For now, Partner,) Ddraig’s voice rumbled in his mind, warm and steady, (we’ll continue focusing on your physical training. You can’t outsmart death if your body gives out first.)

CLAP!

The sharp sound made everyone flinch slightly. Misuki straightened with a serene smile, breaking the heavy air with practiced ease. “Now, I believe that’s enough serious talk for one night,” she declared, her tone gentle yet commanding. “Yuuka, how was school?”

Yuuka blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Eh? Oh, uh—it was fine! I mean, boring. But fine.”

The tension began to melt. Tamamo giggled, sitting beside Issei and flicking her tails playfully. “Mmm~ mortal schooling. So adorable! Tell me, did anyone confess their undying love to you today?”

“Tamamo!” Yuuka snapped, her face flushing. “Of course not!”

Issei snickered quietly, earning a glare from her. “Sorry, sorry,” He said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m just happy we’re talking about something that doesn’t involve dying horribly.”

Misuki smiled softly. “That’s the spirit.”

And just like that, the grim air lightened into something resembling normalcy as the group laughed and had conversation toward their day.

But beneath the laughter, Issei’s mind remained elsewhere. His gaze drifted toward the window, where the faint city lights of Fuyuki shimmered in the distance. His reflection in the glass stared back—tired, determined, and quietly afraid.

(Everything alright, Partner?) Ddraig’s deep voice echoed softly within his thoughts.

‘Yeah… just thinking,’ Issei replied inwardly. ‘I’ve never really done this before. A real war. A fight where people—where I—might die.’

(It’s normal to feel afraid.)

‘I know. But what if I freeze up out there? What if I can’t protect them? I can’t let that happen.’

(That’s why you train, Partner.) The dragon’s tone was firm but not unkind. (Prepare as best you can, and when the time comes, trust your instincts. You’ve got good ones. The rest—leave to me.)

Issei exhaled slowly, clenching his fists under the table. ‘Yeah… you’re right. Just two days. I just have to survive two days, and then we can leave this world behind.’

Outside, the wind brushed against the glass softly, a whisper against the hum of quiet laughter.

Done. Tell me what you think and if I made any mistake.