The Imperial Capital, Schönbrunn Palace.
Selene opened her eyes. Her secondary consciousness, having been sent forth, was now being actively drawn into the Type-Moon Universe’s inner layer, where the dark and eerie extradinsional pathway began to stabilize...
"It’s finally in place... Mine as the anchor; a secondary consciousness as the stairway; and once the pathway is widened and fully stable, the invasion can begin in earnest."
"Beyond the Solar System is another world; beyond the universe, yet another. And bridging a connection to establish a foundation of trust—Type-Moon’s nature and operating chanism are really quite unique, albeit... loose."
"Two Counter Forces? An entity of the Root, or a consciousness of the World itself... inviting to participate in the Holy Grail War... A wish-granting device? How quaint; well, I might as well entertain it. Though, I wonder which tiline it’ll be, and which Holy Grail War..."
"But it’s all the sa. They want to carve my information into the Throne of Heroes... thinking that once I retrieve Mine’s lingering concept, my true self will simply leave?"
"Hmmph... they plan to leave my data shell behind, even intending to install a faux persona that’ll take on missions like a true agent. (Emiya Shirou: Hey, now!)"
"Though it won’t match my true power, it’ll still be formidable... What a cunning plan."
"Well then, they’ll find my wages aren’t so easily dismissed. After the larger-scale invasion begins, I suppose it’ll be known as... ard wage collection. Ha... this should be... interesting."
Type-Moon Universe, Throne of Heroes.
Heroic Spirits are beings that, upon death, are immortalized through their grand accomplishnts and legendary deeds, becoming objects of worship.
Upon death, these heroes’ souls are elevated beyond human constraints, gaining power far beyond that of ordinary people. They transcend the bounds of ti, existing as eternal beings beyond the ti axis in the Throne of Heroes.
Although Heroic Spirits are typically heroic figures who gather reverence after death, fictional figures from myth and legend can also erge as Heroic Spirits if sufficient belief is gathered.
Moreover, there are those who made certain contracts with the World during their lives, agreeing to beco Heroic Spirits upon death in exchange for certain benefits.
Each Heroic Spirit’s unique status, experiences, and even the manner and location of their death dictate the nature of their space within the Throne of Heroes.
For instance, the most widely known Heroic Spirit within Type-Moon lore, King Arthur—also known as the King of knights, Artoria Pendragon—seems unable to relinquish her earthly attachnts, and so her space within the Throne resembles her final battlefield: a wasteland filled with blood-soaked hills and desolation.
When Selene entered the Throne of Heroes, the space assigned to her began to form based on the legends of her world, specifically the grand palace of the Imperial Capital!
In the endless void of her exclusive Throne, a vast and almost otherworldly palace began to take shape, expanding slowly but surely to fill the previously empty realm.
Amidst the rising splendor of magnificent palaces, Selene took a mont to adapt to her new, data-ford body, cast in the radiant golden sheen of the Imperial Palace’s floors. She gave herself a quick look.
Adorned in a magnificent white, purple, and gold ceremonial gown, Selene gazed at her hands, now encased in delicately crafted golden armor with razor-sharp, finely wrought claw tips, quietly reflecting.
So, this is how her people viewed her—how the Empire saw her after her deeds and a touch of skillful storytelling.
The image was only slightly exaggerated, with a mix of her people’s perception and her own crafted legend. Clearly, they saw her as an imnsely powerful, radiant, but icy and arrogant ruler.
There was a slight distortion here—she was quite approachable, really—but all in all, Selene was satisfied. At least she didn’t have so quirky baggage in her Spirit Origin due to a writer’s "creative license" like a certain grand duke.
In the Empire, anyone daring to slander her in writing would be executed tenfold—no, obliterated completely, along with their entire extended family!
"Tell more. Given that magic and magecraft differ in your world, is Heroic Spirit summoning also as literal? And how exactly does it operate?"
Setting her clawed hands down, Selene raised her gaze toward the twin blue rings that surrounded a dazzling azure orb in front of her.
Though familiar with much, she feigned curiosity.
The question scarcely finished when an imnse stream of information surged into her mind.
Summoning a Heroic Spirit is an elaborate ritual, in which the Heroic Spirit is drawn down from the Throne and bound to the current ti axis. It requires preparing a vessel known as a Saint Graph to house the Heroic Spirit’s spirit or consciousness as a Servant.
The Saint Graph, in essence, serves as a vessel to contain the Heroic Spirit’s spirit. It does not house the Heroic Spirit’s true body but rather a fraction of its personality and power.
Typically, the summoned Heroic Spirit is rely an avatar of its true self. Completing its task, it will return to the Throne of Heroes.
Only the "World" itself can summon the true body of a Heroic Spirit; no human can summon the Heroic Spirit’s true self. To harness a Heroic Spirit’s power, they must summon an avatar of it in the form of a Servant.
A Heroic Spirit’s true self is singular and does not possess "Classes." Servants, in essence, are just avatars, hence why various Classes with different appearances exist.
The notion of "Classes" is unique to Servants and represents the specific talents or abilities of a Heroic Spirit when summoned in a particular Class.
In simpler terms, from a gaming perspective, the Heroic Spirit is the character, and the Class is the character’s skin.
In general, there are seven Classes for Servants: Saber, Lancer, Archer, Rider, Caster, Assassin, and Berserker.
Selene: So let get this straight; my true self remains outside this world, while this so-called "true body" in the Throne is really just a shell of data fueled by legendary belief. And if summoned by a Master, I’ll be divided yet again!
Layer upon layer of nesting dolls...
Europe, Balkan Peninsula, Romania.
In Southeastern Europe, the northeastern edge of the Balkan Peninsula, lies a small country known as Romania, bordered by the Black Sea, with an area of just over two hundred thousand square kiloters and a population of roughly twenty million.
Trifas, a modest town of only about twenty thousand residents, is located in the Transylvanian region of Romania, where dieval architecture still prevails.
At the heart of this small town, perched on a hill, stands a grand European castle—the Fortress of Millennia.
This castle belongs to the Yggdmillennia family, a lineage of mages who migrated to Romania from Northern Europe.
It is currently nightti, and the Fortress of Millennia is illuminated from within.
Dozens of eerie figures—the servants of the castle, many holding axes, patrolled the grounds, while stone statues with glowing eyes stood at attention. The ancient castle was brimming with an intense, supernatural vigilance.
In the central hall of the fortress:
"Yes, everything has been for this mont."
Standing by the throne, a tall, young man with dark green hair and violet eyes spoke with his arms spread wide, his gaze fixed on the two n and two won before him. His face was filled with fervor.
Although he appeared youthful, sowhere between twenty-six and thirty, his true age was ninety-seven. He was dressed in a lavish black-and-white family uniform and wore a white cloak.
This was Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia, the head of the Yggdmillennia family and leader of the "Black" faction of the Holy Grail War.
Long ago, Darnic, for the future of his family, had participated in Fuyuki’s Third Holy Grail War during the Second World War. Through cunning and intrigue, he had wrested control of the Great Holy Grail, transported it to Romania, and hidden it in the depths of the Fortress of Millennia.
"Yes, let’s begin and summon the Heroic Spirits who shall serve as our comrades!"
From the throne, an imposing figure of nearly two ters tall, with white-gold hair and sunken amber eyes, looked down, his lips frad by a thin golden beard. Despite his slender build, he emanated a commanding presence.
The man on the throne was none other than "Black" Lancer—Vlad III, the Yggdmillennia’s trump card.
In Romania, Vlad III was a national hero revered for his role in repelling the Ottoman Empire. Although many outside of Romania knew him as the vampire Dracula, Vlad III was a staunch patriot and devoutly loyal to his country.
His skill, [Demonic Defender of the State], granted him imnse power within Romania, elevating his strength to the pinnacle of what ordinary Heroic Spirits could achieve.
"Fad Heroic Spirits... I am quite eager to et them!"
Below the throne, four n and won stood solemnly at their designated summoning circles, extending their hands bearing crimson Command Seals.
"In the na of Silver and Iron, we call forth a Great Grail pact of steel; dedicate our wills to the colors of ’Black.’
Let all winds halt and every door be shut; from the Crown erges a path to the Kingdom, converging at the crossroads. I hereby swear!
Our fates entwined, you shall be my sword. Upon the Grail’s guidance, if your will aligns, then answer my call!
I vow to embody all of mankind’s good! To quench all the world’s evils!
You, bound by three words of power (Three Command Spells), answer the call and co forth—Guardian of the Scales!"
When the incantation concluded, a whirlwind of mana ford, transforming the summoning circles into dazzling beacons of azure radiance. The atmosphere was charged with a formidable aura that filled the entire hall.
The light soon faded, and when the summoning was complete, three figures materialized within their circles.
Three... Why were there only three?!
"Celenike Icecolle Yggdmillennia! What happened? What’s wrong with your summoning?" Darnic’s excitent gave way to frustration. He had spent sixty years preparing for this mont! And now, before the battle even started, they had lost a Servant during the summoning?!
Celenike—a slender woman with long gray hair, dark glasses, and a disturbing aura—was known for her sadistic deanor.
"What... happened?" Celenike’s face twisted with anxiety as she observed her empty summoning circle.
"No... ahh!!" Just as she moved closer to investigate, her magic circuits flared violently, casting a blinding light across her body. Despite the cloned magic circuits in her workshop, the link to her magical circuits coursed directly through her.
The intense drain of mana wracked her with searing pain, while terrifying scenes flashed in her mind through the Command Seals—a dreadful glimpse of death and despair that drove her to her knees in spasms.
"She’s coming! She’s almost here! Ahh! I need more mana! Ahhh..."
Darnic’s expression shifted instantly. Unable to suppress his elation, he exclaid, "Mana deficiency?! Then this Heroic Spirit must be an extraordinary one!"
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