"Thief?"
Roland looked genuinely surprised. How could Waver Velvet have attracted the attention of that old parasite? And more bafflingly, why would someone as cautious as Zouken Matou invest in such a high-risk endeavor, all just to put a bounty on his head?
Maybe ten years from now, as the Second Emperor, that level of threat would make sense. But now? During the Fourth Holy Grail War?
[T/N: I think this refers to when Waver becomes a demi servant, I think?]
Even if he'd stolen a holy relic and smuggled it to the Far East, it would be seen as nothing more than a petty joke. Yet judging by the raw hatred on Matou Zouken's wrinkled face, it was no act. For a creature who had survived over five centuries to display such unconcealed animosity, this so-called thief must've truly stepped on something sacred, likely something tied to Zouken's depraved experiments.
"That's right. That bastard is nothing but filth, tainted blood and a twisted soul," Matou Zouken spat venomously. "He barged into others' homes like a madman and tried to steal the most precious thing they had."
For once, Matou Zouken's normally calculating face was twisted with genuine rage as he cursed the so-called thief with bitter contempt.
And that told Roland everything he needed to know.
If Zouken was wasting time venting his hatred like this, then it likely meant he was powerless to deal with the man himself. Otherwise, with his usual taste for torment, he would have long since wiped the guy off the face of the earth.
"So... what's this thief's name?" Roland asked, cutting straight to the chase. He had a strange feeling gnawing at him.
Zouken's eyes narrowed. "Ah... my mistake. You wouldn't know about the other Masters in this war, would you?"
"Typically, aside from the three founding families, the Mage's Association also gets a seat in the war. And this time, the man who claimed that seat… is the thief."
He paused before dropping the name with weight.
"Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia."
Roland's eyes widened slightly. For a brief moment, his composed expression faltered.
He knew that name all too well.
In another timeline, Darnic was the one who triggered the seven-on-seven Holy Grail War. During the Third War, he used a Heroic Spirit to locate the Greater Grail itself, changing the worldline and halting the chain of tragedies that would have followed in Fuyuki. In that world, he was hailed as nothing less than the savior of the city.
So… had Roland crossed into the wrong timeline?
No. This was the Fourth Holy Grail War, of that, he was certain. But Darnic wasn't supposed to be here. Why had he joined this war?
Still, it explained a lot.
To someone like Zouken Matou, who had built the Greater Grail with his own twisted hands, Darnic was the ultimate threat. Not a combatant. Not a soldier. But a schemer, a parasite, waiting to steal away the one treasure Zouken had given everything for.
In Zouken's mind, the war's outcome didn't matter. There would always be another. But if the Greater Grail were stolen… that would be the end of everything.
And now it made sense why Zouken had suddenly become so talkative. Once he'd judged Roland's worth, he'd wasted no time. Zouken was clearly willing to ally with anyone who could help remove this hidden danger, even if he had to swallow his pride and reach out.
Looking at the timeline, Roland could see it clearly: in all three wars, these two had always stood at odds. But in this one, Darnic had lost, he had failed to seize the Grail. And now, frustrated, he had returned to try again.
As Roland quietly processed the shifts in the timeline, a thought struck him. His ever-present smile vanished in an instant, and he leaned forward, his tone growing sharp.
"Matou Zouken, who did the Einzbern family summon in the last Holy Grail War?"
His voice was tense. Urgent. Almost demanding.
This question mattered more than anything else.
As far as Roland knew, the single event that split the two worldlines, the one where Darnic stole the Grail and the one where he didn't, was tied to which Heroic Spirit the Einzberns had summoned.
Was it Amakusa Shirou Tokisada? Or was it the embodiment of all the world's evil?
"Last time?" Zouken echoed, puzzled. Still, he didn't see the harm in answering. "Hmm… a shady looking guy with dark skin. I don't remember the name but he wasn't that impressive. Got wiped out at the start."
"I see." Roland stood up, brushing his coat smooth. "I accept your offer. Let's end the meeting here. Send the details and methods of cooperation to this address."
He handed Zouken a card, then glanced up at the wall clock.
"So eager to leave? Do you have something urgent?" Zouken asked, looking at Roland with a puzzled expression. The man was clearly invested, intelligent and capable, yet now he seemed utterly detached.
The war was about to start. The time for strategy, planning, and summoning was now.
"Of course," Roland replied, walking away without looking back. "My shift starts soon."
For the first time in centuries, Matou Zouken's expression cracked, warping in sheer disbelief.
He wanted to say something more, but Roland was already gone.
"Young people these days... utterly unpredictable," Zouken muttered, eyes flickering with something unreadable. "I just hope he doesn't waste the opportunity."
Still, even if he had to hide his true nature for a while longer, he wouldn't let anyone take the Greater Grail.
---
As Roland walked down the street, his clenched fists betrayed the calm on his face. His eyes darkened.
He still didn't have enough information.
He had a lead on why the events of the Third War had shifted, why Danic had failed yet still returned for the Fourth. But this worldline… was completely unfamiliar.
Much of the knowledge he'd come with, the foresight he'd counted on, was now useless. Half of the "plot armor" he'd relied on was already gone.
And yet… in return, he'd discovered something else.
The source of this distortion.
There was no doubt, it had to be a contracted spirit.
The Key hadn't made a mistake. The shift in this timeline, the ripple effect throughout Fuyuki City… it had all started sixty years before Roland arrived.
That contracted spirit had already triggered massive changes in the last Holy Grail War.
And considering how large the impact had been, it was likely that the spirit had changed hands several times, infecting each new host with its madness, and helping some of them succeed in ways they never should have.
And now, that same spirit… might still be hiding somewhere. Within someone. Or something.
That meant Roland finally had a reason to join this Holy Grail War himself.
As the morning sun rose, he tightened his coat and strode toward his future.