Campione: Strongest Godslayer!

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"Haru~~ this place has changed so much! It's completely different from when we were here a year ago. Look, that used to be a bakery, and now it's a cross-dressing boutique," Illyasviel said, her voice filled with amusement as she held Haru's left arm.

She wore a luxurious outfit of a silk shawl, knee-high boots, and a silver fox fur coat—a look that somehow seemed perfectly suited to her.

Her silver hair flowed in the gentle breeze, a bright smile illuminating her beautiful face. Haru, watching her, felt a flicker of captivation.

"Hmph…" Kiyohime, clinging to Haru's right arm, glared at Illyasviel, her cheeks puffed out in a jealous pout.

She shifted closer to Haru, pressing her body against his, then closer still, until she was practically hanging on him like a koala.

"Hee hee." Illyasviel giggled at Kiyohime's jealous display, then turned to Saber. "Does the outfit fit well?"

Saber, dressed in a dark blue suit, complete with a shirt, tie, and a black, European-style overcoat, looked surprisingly beautiful. The outfit accentuated her slender frame, pale skin, and the pure, almost boyish, aura she projected.

"I chose it based on my own clothes. Don't you like it, Saber?" Illyasviel asked, seeing Saber's lack of response.

Haru grinned. He and Illyasviel had worn similar outfits during their private role-playing sessions. And now, Saber, dressed in clothes that carried Haru's scent, looked uncomfortable. It amused him.

"No, it's fine. These clothes are practical. I often wore men's attire in my time," Saber replied, adjusting her tie, loosening it slightly.

"She's lying!" Kiyohime whispered in Haru's ear.

Seeing Aoi, and the three little girls, Elia, Rin, and Akiha—playing in the castle grounds, Kiyohime's yandere instincts had flared. She was behind. Way behind.

Illyasviel and Aoi, having already borne Haru's children, were entrenched. That meant she had to discredit this golden-haired pretty boy in Haru's eyes.

She sensed a connection between Haru and Saber, despite their limited interactions. Haru's gaze, whenever it fell upon the knight, held a certain intensity.

Saber's face flushed as Kiyohime exposed her lie. She looked at Illyasviel, who was now frowning, and quickly added, "I don't dislike it! It's just not very practical for combat!"

"Then let's find you something more suitable!" Illyasviel's eyes lit up as she pointed towards a nearby clothing store.

"Excellent idea!" Way to go, Illyasviel—Haru grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He turned to Kiyohime, who was about to object, and said, "Kiyohime, perhaps you should choose something more modern as well."

"Really? Haru-sama wants to see me in new clothes?" Kiyohime, her jealousy momentarily forgotten, clung to Haru's arm, her voice filled with excitement.

Haru nodded enthusiastically.

Saber watched in horror as Illyasviel dragged her towards the store. How could Illyasviel, so slender and delicate, be so strong?

...

"Boost! Boost! Boost!" Within Haru's soulscape, a slumbering Red Dragon murmured.

...

"Illyasviel, can I please change back into my armor?" Saber asked, her voice strained, her legs trembling.

She now wore a white, European-style princess dress, white gloves, and white stockings. Her expression, a mix of shame and indignation, made her look like a sheltered princess forced to—mingle with the commoners.

She felt the cool air against her legs as she walked—or rather, shuffled—towards the changing room. The three-meter distance felt like an eternity.

She froze as Illyasviel's hand gently grasped hers. She turned, her face stiff, to look at Illyasviel, whose expression was now serious.

"No," Illyasviel said, a sweet, yet firm, smile on her face.

Saber's shoulders slumped. In a corner Illyasviel couldn't see, she gave Haru a victorious thumbs-up.

"Haru, how do I look?" Kiyohime emerged from the changing room, wearing a light purple dress.

She twirled, the hem of her dress fluttering around her, then stopped, curtsying gracefully.

Haru, tearing his gaze away from Saber, chuckled and walked towards Kiyohime, wrapping an arm around her waist and giving her rear a playful pat. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear.

"You look bewitching."

"Would my lord like his little witch to cleanse him tonight?" Kiyohime purred, her amber eyes half-closed.

"Just wait until the Holy Grail War is over," Haru whispered, his voice laced with a playful menace.

...

As night fell, the four of them walked along a quiet road, the cool sea breeze ruffling Illyasviel's silver hair.

Saber, still uncomfortable in her dress, trailed behind, watching them chat and laugh, her expression a mix of longing and—resolve.

"Shouldn't we be—preparing? This is the Holy Grail War. The Servants—they're manifesting in their true forms this time," she said, her voice serious.

The others stopped, turning to face her.

"I know," Haru said, his back to Saber, his eyes narrowed slightly.

He knew about the Servants' true forms. After all, he was the reason for this change.

Upon learning of Haru's intention to use the Holy Grail War to reach the Root, Gaia and Alaya had relaxed their restrictions, allowing the Servants' true selves—their divine essences—to descend from the Throne of Heroes.

With mere copies, mere echoes of heroic spirits, the Holy Grail War would only create a gateway to the outer edges of the Root, nowhere near its true core.

That was why Gaia and Alaya rarely intervened in the Grail Wars.

But with the Servants' true souls participating, the gateway would lead directly to the Root's core, to the domain of the Counter Force. And any victor, other than Haru, would face their wrath.

In essence, the winner of this war had already been—predetermined.

"If you know, then why aren't we gathering intelligence?" Saber asked, then her expression shifted, her emerald eyes narrowing as she looked towards the docks, where a powerful, primal battle lust radiated outwards—a Servant's declaration of war.

"Who's going?" Haru asked, his voice low.

"Not me. I'm staying with Haru-sama," Kiyohime said, clinging to his arm, her voice a cloying purr.

Before Haru could respond, Saber's gaze turned to Illyasviel, a silent challenge in her eyes.

Illyasviel smiled softly and nodded, lifting her right arm to reveal the Command Spells.

"Bring me victory, my knight."

"Your will be done." Saber knelt, her white dress pooling around her, and gently kissed Illyasviel's hand.

Then, hand in hand, they walked towards the docks.

Haru, watching them go, his eyes fixed on the source of the battle lust, murmured, "Is that—Diarmuid? He's unusually powerful. His aura—it's almost at the level of a Heretic God…"

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