A jaded freelancer unexpectedly becomes a Master in the Fourth Holy Grail War. Armed with nothing but a child's wish, he heeds the Grail's call. But beware, Zayne, for something lies just beyond the edge of time - something that holds the answers th...
7:30 PM. It's almost time. Let's do one last gear check.
My revolver with spare ammo? Check.
Two hidden knives? Check.
Mana compass? Check.
One flashbang and smoke bomb? Check.
That's about the most I can hide in this suit. Anything more and I'd have to sacrifice speed.
I walk to the mirror and adjust my tie.
It feels a bit odd to be wearing this in place of my usual combat gear. At least I reinforced it a little beforehand. Well, I say that, but it might as well be made of paper to a Servant.
Speaking of Servants, there'll be four others present at the gala, if Caster was telling the truth. The next few hours could very well turn the tide of this war.
I notice my right hand quivering in my reflection.
No time to get cold feet.
Get it together!
Clenching my hand, I take a deep breath and turn away from the mirror.
"Jeanne, are you ready yet?" I ask, staring up the stairs.
"Almost done," Jeanne says. "Give me a couple more minutes."
I look out the window in the meantime. The sky seems clear. No signs of rain. Or perhaps this is the calm before the storm?
Footsteps echo down the staircase.
Whoa.
Jeanne's wearing a flowing black dress with a subtle leaf-like motif in its lace and matching thigh highs. The bright blue flowers in her hair bring out the color of her eyes and shine against the rest of her attire.
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My breath hitches.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" Jeanne glances at herself, looking down. "Is there something wrong with my outfit?"
"No, that's not it," I say. "In fact, you look great! It really suits you."
"Ah, thank you..." Jeanne says, blushing ever so slightly. "Anyway, I am ready to go! Shall we?"
*******
The drive takes us approximately 20 minutes. Traffic wasn't too bad, but the real battle's in front of us.
Right from the start, the guards at the entrance let us pass without so much as asking our names. No doubt Caster has amassed a small army of puppets by now.
The moment we step into the building, a chill runs down my spine. As if the temperature has gone down by a couple of degrees. My knowledge of magecraft is nowhere near enough to call myself a mage, but even I can tell that there's a massive spell permeating this whole building.
