Chapter 247
"Sorry. I thought I could hold out a little longer, but the enemy Caster’s magecraft was way too unfair."
Astolfo gave Kiriya an apologetic look, though there was still a hint of pride in his voice.
"But no matter what, I managed to finish the job you gave me."
As he spoke, he reached into his clothes and pulled out one of the Flying Thunder God kunai.
Then he looked up at Kiriya with an expression that practically screamed for praise.
For a moment, Kiriya had the strange illusion that Astolfo had grown a tail behind him and was wagging it so fast it had become a blur.
"You really are something else..."
Kiriya sighed helplessly and reached out to rub Astolfo’s head.
His voice softened.
"But yeah. You did good."
"Hehehe... ngh!"
Astolfo immediately grinned, only for the movement to tug at his injuries and make him suck in a sharp breath.
"Stop moving around. I’ll heal you."
Kiriya raised his right hand toward him.
"Um... Master, shouldn’t we maybe not do this here?"
Astolfo’s pretty face suddenly turned red, and his eyes began darting away.
"I mean, I’m not exactly against mana transfer or anything, but shouldn’t we at least find somewhere a little more private—ow! Master, what was that for?!"
Kiriya expressionlessly withdrew the hand he had just chopped down onto Astolfo’s head.
"Nothing."
"My hand was itchy, so I felt like hitting something."
Astolfo shuddered under Kiriya’s distinctly inhuman stare.
A powerful instinct warned him that if he continued this line of conversation, he might become the only Servant in the entire Holy Grail War to be personally sent back to the Throne by his own Master.
He immediately gave an awkward little laugh and wisely shut his mouth.
Kiriya cast Yang Power: Everflowing Vitality on him.
Warm life energy flowed through Astolfo’s body, and within moments, the burns, fractures, and internal injuries covering him rapidly disappeared.
Astolfo stared at his own hands.
Then he patted his chest and sides.
After that, he jumped to his feet and bounced several times experimentally.
"Whoa!"
His eyes lit up.
"I’m completely healed! That’s amazing, Master! I didn’t know you could do this too!"
"Enough talking. Come with me."
Kiriya had no interest in continuing the conversation.
If he let Astolfo keep going, the guy would inevitably say something outrageous again and make Kiriya’s hand start itching!
He closed his eyes and sensed the Flying Thunder God mark attached to the kunai Jeanne was carrying.
Then he placed one hand on Astolfo as the two disappeared instantly.
...
Several minutes earlier—
When Vlad III, Chiron, Caster of Black, and Jeanne first entered the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, they were almost immediately intercepted by Karna.
From the Black faction’s perspective, it appeared to be a three-against-one engagement.
On paper, they should have possessed the overwhelming advantage.
In reality, however, Karna alone had managed to hold all three combatants firmly in place, leaving them unable to advance any farther.
There were several reasons for that.
The first was Vlad III himself.
During this Holy Grail War, Vlad had been summoned on Romanian soil as a king.
So long as he fought upon the ground of his homeland, his EX-rank innate Skill, Demonic Defender of the State, remained continuously active.
Through that Skill, Vlad could connect himself to the local leylines and effectively transform the entirety of Romania into his personal "territory."
Within that territory, he received combat enhancements comparable to Rank A Mad Enhancement, dramatically increasing all of his physical Parameters—including Strength, Endurance, and Agility.
On top of that, Vlad III was one of Romania’s greatest national heroes.
Within his homeland, the fame and recognition attached to his legend could be compared to Heracles in Greece or King Arthur in Britain.
That overwhelming home-field fame bonus further strengthened nearly every aspect of his abilities.
With all of those factors combined, Vlad III’s basic Parameters on Romanian soil rose considerably beyond even Karna’s or Achilles’s.
Paired with Kazikli Bey: Lord of Execution, he was an exceptionally difficult opponent to confront directly.
But the instant he entered the Hanging Gardens, everything changed.
The fortress floated above Romanian soil and existed as Semiramis’s domain.
Vlad lost his connection to the country’s leylines.
And with that connection severed, the enormous territorial enhancement granted by Romania disappeared as well.
His Parameters fell from the absolute highest tier of Servants to merely first-rate—or perhaps somewhere slightly below that depending on the category.
Even the range and power of Kazikli Bey suffered a considerable reduction.
As a result, his battle against Karna became increasingly difficult.
Again and again, Vlad found himself being forced backward.
It was humiliating, but there was little he could do about it.
Caster of Black was not having a much better time.
His summoned golems were unquestionably powerful, but when placed in front of Karna’s divine golden spear, most of them were scarcely more durable than paper.
Caster himself had to remain constantly aware of the collateral damage produced by Vlad and Karna’s battle, lest he be caught in one of their exchanges.
Overall, he was struggling badly.
Chiron’s combat ability had not been weakened by entering the fortress, but he had another problem.
He constantly had to remain alert for magical bombardments emerging without warning from walls, corridors, ceilings, and other corners of the Hanging Gardens.
Semiramis might not have been physically present, but she was the absolute ruler of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.
Her will extended into every corner of the fortress.
She was currently dividing her attention among several different matters and therefore could not devote her full power to this battlefield, but the occasional surprise bombardment was already enough to keep Chiron wary.
He simply did not dare commit himself completely to fighting Karna.
As for Jeanne—
Her Parameters as Ruler were excellent.
Unfortunately, Jeanne’s strengths in life had never been personal combat.
She excelled at inspiring people, maintaining morale, and commanding armies on the battlefield.
She was certainly capable of fighting, but compared with warriors who had devoted their lives to martial combat, that was not where her greatest talents lay.
For the moment, she could assist in restraining Karna, but she was unable to provide enough offensive pressure to decisively break the deadlock.
Thus, the battle fell into a stalemate.
And eventually—Darnic, who had remained hidden and observed everything from the shadows, could no longer endure it.
As the man who had ultimately engineered this Great Holy Grail War, Darnic possessed ambitions of his own.
He wanted Yggdmillennia to truly rise.
He wanted his clan to become a superpower in the world of magecraft capable of standing on equal footing with the Clock Tower.
He wanted immortality.
He wanted to reach the Root.
None of those wishes could be achieved through Darnic’s own power.
Only the legendary omnipotent wish-granting device offered even the possibility of accomplishing them.
That was precisely why he had spent so much effort stealing the Greater Grail in the first place.
He had hidden himself away for decades, enduring and scheming while devouring the souls of countless people to prolong his own lifespan, all so that he could survive until this day finally arrived.
Originally, Darnic had believed that summoning Romania’s greatest hero on his own homeland would allow him to decide the outcome of the Holy Grail War almost immediately.
Instead, the Red faction’s Master had completely disregarded the usual way these wars were fought.
Rather than playing by the established rules, he had simply overturned the entire board and stolen the Greater Grail itself.
To Darnic, they were not merely stealing the Grail.
They were stealing his life.
His future.
Everything he had sacrificed for!
He had no idea exactly how the enemy intended to use the Greater Grail or what wish they sought to accomplish.
But the Grail contained only a finite amount of magical energy.
Once that energy was consumed—Darnic’s own lifelong wish would become impossible.
So although his outward expression had remained calm, inside he was already being tormented by fury and anxiety to the point of near madness.
And when he saw three Servants from his own faction unable to break through a single Lancer of Red—in fact, gradually being forced backward by him—Darnic finally reached the limit of his patience.
He decided to intervene directly.
"Stand, King of Romania!"
Darnic’s voice rang loudly through the vast corridor, immediately drawing everyone’s attention.
"Do you truly intend to leave this stage in such a disgraceful state?"
"Darnic?"
Vlad III wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and looked toward an elevated passageway nearby.
The familiar figure of Darnic stood there.
"What are you doing here?"
"Pathetic."
Darnic ignored the question completely.
His voice carried undisguised contempt as he continued.
"Can you truly call yourself a hero summoned to this land bearing a great and desperate wish?"
"Look at yourself."
"Look at how miserable you have become."
Vlad’s brows drew together.
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
Displeasure entered his expression.
This man was merely a retainer.
Had his tolerance made Darnic forget that such insolence had limits?
The other Servants stopped fighting as well.
Even Karna temporarily lowered his weapon.
All of them were curious about why Darnic had appeared here and what he intended to do.
"We must reclaim the Greater Grail."
Darnic’s voice became heavy and unwavering.
"We must secure victory for Yggdmillennia."
His expression gradually twisted with obsession.
"And for that purpose..."
"I will pay any price."
"Any price...?"
Vlad suddenly understood.
His face changed dramatically.
"Darnic."
His voice became terrifyingly cold.
"You seek your own death!"
"Shut up!"
Darnic’s own expression finally twisted into something ugly and ferocious.
"A mere familiar dares speak to me like that?"
His eyes burned with decades of accumulated obsession.
"From the beginning, you were nothing more than a tool for the fulfillment of my wish!"
Vlad III lunged toward him.
Darnic merely sneered.
Then he raised the hand bearing his Command Spells.
"By the authority of my Command Spell—"
His voice echoed through the Hanging Gardens.
"I command the Heroic Spirit Vlad III Tepes."
"Activate your Noble Phantasm—"
"Legend of Dracula!"
"Y-You...!"
Vlad still tried to speak.
But before he could finish, both hands flew to his head.
"AARRRGHHHH!"
An agonized roar tore from his throat.
His entire body began undergoing a grotesque transformation.
The majestic, dignified face of Romania’s king twisted into something hideous and monstrous.
Sharp fangs pushed from his mouth.
His hands lengthened and deformed into vicious claws.
Flesh writhed violently across his back before splitting open, and two enormous bat-like wings extended outward.
The noble Impaler Prince vanished.
In his place stood the monster born from the legend that Vlad III had despised above all others—
The legendary vampire.
Dracula.