Type-Moon, What Do You Mean You summoned Tiamat?!

Night deepened.

A cold wind blew through the ruined industrial zone at the edge of Snowfield City.

Bazdilot stared blankly at the rusted factory gate before him.

When dark red magical light gathered, a huge figure wrapped in animal skins descended silently.

Bazdilot took a deep drag from the cigar between his fingers, thick smoke spreading in the darkness.

"Did you enjoy tonight's hunt, Alcides?"

"…"

The once-famous ancient Greek hero was now twisted and corrupted by black mud, transformed into a professional avenger who hunted gods.

He stood there without answering.

After a long silence, Alcides broke the quiet. "I thought you were angry because of my unauthorized action tonight."

In the chaos of the night, when Bazdilot had issued an emergency retreat order, Alcides had unhesitatingly refused and insisted on continuing the offensive.

In a Holy Grail War — a ritual where even the smallest mistake could lead to ruin — a Servant openly defying their Master was undoubtedly an extremely dangerous sign of losing control.

Moreover, there was not a single Command Spell on the back of Bazdilot's hand that could be used to forcibly order a Servant.

"Tonight's battle was the first time I tasted powerlessness… So powerless that I don't even feel the need to be angry."

He raised the hand not holding the cigar, took out a somewhat worn book from inside his trench coat, and casually tossed it onto a metal bucket nearby.

"After receiving a call from the police chief tonight, I stayed up all night searching through Mesopotamian Mythology stories."

Alcides frowned slightly beneath the cloth, seeming puzzled by his Master's actions.

Bazdilot didn't keep him in suspense and answered directly. "Tiamat. She is the Goddess of Creation in Mesopotamian mythology — the god you said tonight you absolutely wanted to hunt."

"Even though what descended wasn't the original form at the peak of mythology… when you confronted that clone tonight, you must have deeply felt the despair she brought, right?"

Bazdilot sneered. "If that arrogant King Gilgamesh hadn't gotten in our way tonight, we would have suffered a catastrophic defeat right from the start."

"Goddess of Creation… Tiamat?"

Alcides repeated the name in a low, hoarse voice.

After a while, he muttered self-mockingly with a relieved expression, "Of course…"

It was only natural that his Noble Phantasm — powerful enough to steal other people's Noble Phantasms — had no effect at all before that woman and couldn't steal power from Tiamat.

Alcides' black mud, or All the World's Evil, was the evil trapped in humanity's subconscious and moral concepts, while the Sea of Life symbolized primordial water at the planetary level.

Using humanity's evil concepts to erode and steal the authority of the planet's original creator was simply unrealistic.

"So what about that black-haired boy?" Alcides suddenly changed the subject. "How can a mere human provide magical energy to such a god?"

It was important to understand that the reason Alcides could recklessly waste his nearly infinite magical energy was because Bazdilot had secretly imprisoned hundreds of innocent people as batteries in the basement of this abandoned factory, extracting their life force directly through an extremely cruel magical ritual and converting it into magical energy.

But that boy registered as just a Clock Tower student… where on earth did he get such enormous magical energy to fill the stomach of the Goddess of Creation?

"No one knows. Maybe he's hiding some unknown secret."

Bazdilot shrugged lightly. "Besides, there's no need to worry about that. Your concern should be focused on how to kill those arrogant gods, right?"

He flicked the ash from his cigar, his eyes gradually becoming deep and unfathomable.

"In fact, if it's an arrogant and physically weak creature like a magus, if the American military wants, they could easily snipe and kill the boy using modern military force while Tiamat is away."

"Even assuming the Master is eliminated, even the highest-level Servants with Independent Action would ultimately perish because they lose their connection to the real world and their magical energy supply."

"However…"

Bazdilot took a deep drag from the last half of his cigar and slowly exhaled thick smoke rings into the night sky, staring at the bottomless darkness outside the abandoned factory with a mocking smile on his lips.

"It seems Orlando's old-fashioned cop has developed an irreconcilable difference of opinion with Faldeus because of tonight's assassination attempt."

Alcides slowly raised his head covered in black cloth, his eyes emitting crimson light as he said, "So, what's your plan…?"

Bazdilot didn't answer.

He simply quietly and slowly pressed the burning tip of his cigar against the cover of the book titled Mesopotamian Mythology and Legends.

…

That night, 3 a.m., Snowfield City Police Chief's Office.

The artificial city that suddenly rose from the desert was wrapped in biting cold.

But even this coldness felt much gentler compared to the freezing atmosphere currently filling the office.

Orlando stood with his hands clasped behind his back like a statue in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window stretching from floor to ceiling, gazing at the dazzling neon-lit cityscape below.

"It's very rare for you to voluntarily come to the police station to discuss something with me… It must be something extremely urgent and important."

Behind Orlando, a stern-looking, well-dressed man sat casually in the chief's office chair, as if he held the initiative.

He placed both hands on the table and looked at the person in front of him from behind.

…Faldeus Dioland.

Without turning around, Orlando spoke in a low, solemn voice. "Just now, my Servant confirmed the identity of the woman summoned by Matou Yuu. She is——"

"Tiamat, the Goddess of Creation from Mesopotamian mythology, right?"

Faldeus smiled and took over the conversation, speaking in a calm and gentle voice. "I had already anticipated that this fake Holy Grail system would inevitably attract extraordinary Heroic Spirits, but for an existence like the Mother Goddess of Creation to descend… it is indeed somewhat shocking."

"Don't tell me you invited me here all night just for this?" Faldeus asked meaningfully.

Orlando slowly turned his head and looked into the man's eyes. "Faldeus, no matter what happens to this Holy Grail War experiment… there's only one thing I want to ask. Immediately stop the assassination attempt on Tiamat's Master."

"If that woman goes berserk and loses her sanity, this city with a population of 800,000 will turn into a hellish painting overnight."

Orlando didn't know whether Tiamat possessed the Independent Action authority, but he had no intention — and no courage — to bet the entire city on that possibility.

If the boy's death caused the Mother Goddess to go into a frenzy, everything would be over.

But the moment those words were spoken, the entire office's atmosphere instantly froze.

Faldeus slightly lowered his eyes, a mocking smile appearing on his lips.

After a while, his incredibly cold voice quietly echoed in the empty office.

"The so-called Holy Grail War is a dangerous ritual implicitly agreed upon by magi, accompanied by great risks and great rewards… Everyone participating in the Holy Grail War is prepared to die at any time."

"Just a god's incarnation has scared the dignified chief of Snowfield City like this?"

Faldeus slowly stood up, placed both hands on the table, and quietly turned to look at Orlando. "Chief Orlando… aren't you underestimating the cruelty of the Holy Grail War and the determination of the American military?"

The moment he heard the word "military," Snowfield City's local tyrant's face instantly turned ugly as he stared at Faldeus.

The two stared at each other across the desk, a tense silence hanging between them.

Orlando understood very well how powerful a national organization stood behind the man before him.

The Dioland family to which Faldeus belonged had betrayed the Clock Tower years ago and secretly served the American government.

The American government's ultimate goal was to use this Holy Grail War to free magecraft from the Clock Tower's monopoly, establish a second Mage's Association completely controlled by the American government within the United States using the Holy Grail system, and thereby establish America's global hegemony in the occult field.

Faldeus could be said to symbolize the stance of the highest leadership of the United States and the military.

For the government, would Snowfield City be destroyed? Numbers were not something they needed to consider. As long as they could collect enough system data to achieve their goal, that would be sufficient.

But Orlando was different. Although he also wanted to use the Holy Grail, his top priority was to save the city and its innocent citizens.

"By the way, I've heard about that."

At that moment, Faldeus suddenly changed the subject, breaking the deadlock. "El-Melloi II's other disciple… a magus named Flat has just departed for Snowfield Central General Hospital to visit the comatose Matou Yuu, right?"

"If we include that young girl who is still unconscious in the hospital's intensive care unit due to her partner's experimental mistake…"

As if remembering something amusing, Faldeus couldn't help but chuckle. "What a strange twist of fate — three Masters in one small hospital. What exactly is going on?"

Orlando's expression changed slightly. He suddenly raised his head.

Faldeus sensed the killing intent and anger in the chief's eyes and simply shrugged.

"Calm down. No matter what, we absolutely won't do anything ridiculous like bombing the city center hospital with Tomahawk cruise missiles at this time."

Faldeus walked around the desk and headed straight for the office door.

With his hand on the doorknob, he slightly tilted his head, his voice tone suddenly turning cold. "However, in future actions, I hope you won't unnecessarily obstruct the military's plans."

"If the government and military leadership knew you were using every means to protect a small number of civilians and obstructing national strategy…"

"They would probably be happier with a more obedient police chief."

BANG!

With a dull sound, the door closed. Faldeus disappeared outside, and Orlando stood in the dim shadows, his expression unreadable.

…

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