Chapter 232
"Hey, priest. What the hell was that about?"
Achilles stormed into the church, and the moment he saw Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, he demanded an explanation.
"Why did you call me back?"
"Rider, you seem rather angry."
Semiramis appeared beside Amakusa with an amused smile.
"Of course I’m angry!"
Achilles clenched his fist.
"Big Sis was killed right in front of me. How the hell am I supposed to stay calm after that?"
Then he turned his cutting gaze toward Amakusa.
"Priest, I want an explanation."
"Depending on your answer, I’ll decide whether I’m willing to keep following your orders or not."
Strictly speaking, Amakusa was not Achilles’s Master.
His true Master was someone else entirely.
However, in order to unify command and reduce unnecessary losses, that Master had temporarily handed control of Achilles over to the priest.
At first, Achilles had not cared much.
Who gave the orders was a trivial matter compared to whether those orders led him toward worthy opponents and worthwhile battles.
So he had tolerated it.
But now the priest had actively stopped him from fighting—and from avenging Atalanta.
That was another matter entirely.
"Calm yourself, Rider."
Semiramis remained perfectly composed.
"No one is forbidding you from fighting."
"It simply isn’t time for you to truly unleash yourself yet."
"Huh?"
Achilles’s eyes widened.
"And how long am I supposed to wait?"
The image of Atalanta dying in front of him was still burning in his mind.
He did not want to wait another minute.
If he had his way, he would already be charging back toward Trifas to kill Kiriya.
"One day."
Amakusa raised a single finger.
"At most."
His voice was firm.
"Once that time comes, you may turn the entire battlefield upside down if you wish."
Achilles looked at Amakusa.
Then at Semiramis.
Both radiated such strong confidence that he could tell they were not merely trying to placate him.
"Hmph."
Achilles snorted.
"You’d better remember what you just promised."
"Otherwise, I’ll settle today’s account along with the rest."
With that, he turned and left the church.
"My, my."
Amakusa sighed lightly.
"These legendary heroes really do have extraordinary personalities."
"A hero is someone possessed of extraordinary spirit."
Semiramis folded her arms.
"That man craves battle."
"So give him battle."
"In that respect, his desires align with our interests. At the very least, once combat begins, there will be no need to worry about him holding back."
"Mm."
Amakusa nodded slowly.
His brows, however, remained slightly furrowed.
Semiramis noticed.
"You’re still worried about that human boy named Kiriya?"
"Yes."
Amakusa looked toward the Queen of Assyria.
"That man is surrounded by too many unknowns."
"Even I cannot see through him."
"And not once have I received Revelation concerning him."
"Oh?"
Semiramis rested one hand beneath her chin.
"That truly is unusual."
After a moment of thought, however, she smiled.
"But it doesn’t matter."
"Once my garden is complete, that boy could possess all the miraculous abilities in the world and still accomplish nothing."
Her voice carried overwhelming confidence.
And she had good reason for it.
Because what Semiramis was about to complete was nothing short of a miracle.
[Hanging Gardens of Babylon.]
That was the name of her Noble Phantasm.
An EX-rank Anti-World Noble Phantasm.
Historically, the famous Hanging Gardens had been attributed to Nebuchadnezzar rather than the Queen of Assyria.
They had nothing to do with Semiramis at all.
But legends did not always care about historical accuracy.
Over time, enough people came to believe that the Hanging Gardens belonged to Semiramis that the false story itself acquired Mystery.
Through the accumulated belief of countless people, the mistaken legend was elevated into a Noble Phantasm.
Its rank was so extraordinary that even Semiramis could not simply manifest it through magical energy.
She first needed to collect enormous quantities of material from the region associated with her homeland—wood, stone, minerals, plants, and water originating from areas around ancient Babylon.
Only after assembling those materials and performing a long ritual could she turn the false legend into reality.
Once completed, they would possess a colossal flying fortress.
Inside the Hanging Gardens, all of Semiramis’s Parameters would receive tremendous enhancement.
Her fame bonus would reach its highest possible level.
Her attacks would gain additional favorable corrections.
She would even be capable of wielding magecraft approaching the realm of True Magic.
Her overall combat ability would rise to a completely different level.
At that point, forget Kiriya alone.
Even if every Servant of Black invaded the Gardens together, Semiramis was confident she could bury them all inside.
That was the arrogance afforded by an EX-rank Anti-World Noble Phantasm.
And it was precisely because she possessed such an absurd trump card that Amakusa had gone to such lengths to summon her.
To maximize their chances, he had brought Semiramis into the world well in advance of the Holy Grail War and secretly acquired the necessary materials through numerous channels.
Everything had been prepared in complete secrecy.
By tomorrow afternoon—
The Hanging Gardens would finally be complete!
Perhaps influenced by Semiramis’s absolute confidence, Amakusa’s expression relaxed.
He looked toward the sky beyond the window.
"Yes."
"I’ve always believed in you."
...
Morning sunlight spread across the earth.
Inside a private residence in Sighișoara, Kiriya slowly opened his eyes.
After a full night of rest, his energy, stamina, and mental state had completely recovered.
He felt good enough to punch a cow to death.
"Grrrrr..."
His stomach growled.
All right.
Before punching any cows, he should probably eat breakfast.
Kiriya walked over to the refrigerator to see what ingredients were available.
The instant he opened the door, however, whatever appetite he had vanished completely.
Dark red bloodstains were still smeared across the interior.
"Ah, hell."
Kiriya stared at the refrigerator with dead eyes.
"I almost forgot Jack lived here."
There was no need to wonder what had left those stains.
"Guess I’m eating outside."
Then another thought occurred to him.
"Oh, right. I should ask Jeanne too."
Kiriya activated Energy Perception and quickly found Jeanne in the room next door.
Without thinking much about it, he walked over and opened the door.
"Jeanne, want to go grab break—"
His voice stopped.
Inside the room, Jeanne froze with both hands halfway through fastening the buttons of her shirt.
Her neck slowly turned toward Kiriya.
Then her beautiful face turned bright red at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"KYAAAAAA!"
The saint’s furious, mortified scream shot straight into the sky.
A flock of birds outside the window scattered in terror.
...
"Kiriya-kun, that was completely unacceptable!"
After putting on her shirt, jacket, and shorts, Jeanne stood in the middle of the living room and thoroughly lectured him.
"I am still a girl! Shouldn’t you knock before entering someone’s room?"
"Sorry."
Kiriya had a wad of tissue stuffed into his nose, making him look rather ridiculous and causing his voice to sound slightly muffled.
"I only wanted to ask whether you wanted breakfast."
"But how was I supposed to know you’d actually take a bath and change clothes in a place like this?"
He touched his nose.
"You really got me with that throw."
The nosebleed had not been caused by Kiriya getting overly excited.
He was hardly some inexperienced virgin who lost control at the sight of a woman’s skin.
No, Jeanne had simply thrown something at him with enough strength to make his nose bleed.
Sometimes a girl’s embarrassment carried remarkable destructive power.
"I didn’t have much choice!"
Jeanne puffed out her cheeks.
"I had to deal with that Master’s body last night, clean the room, and everything else. I ended up with blood on me too."
"Was I supposed to just leave it there?"
"Right, right."
Kiriya nodded repeatedly.
"That makes sense."
His words agreed with her.
His thoughts, unfortunately, had already wandered back to the glimpse he had caught earlier.
The healthy, feminine curves.
The pale skin.
It had been—Memorable.
Without realizing it, Kiriya’s gaze drifted down toward Jeanne’s long legs.
Under the morning sunlight, they looked almost sculpted from ivory.
"Stockings would probably look really good on you."
"You..."
Jeanne took two nervous steps backward beneath his openly appreciative gaze.
Then she stomped her foot.
"Kiriya-kun!"
"Can you please behave yourself?!"
"Huh?"
Kiriya blinked innocently.
"What did I do?"