Flat Escardos.
He ca from an ancient magus family in the diterranean region. Like Matou Yuu, he was a direct disciple of Lord El-lloi II.
However, unlike Matou Yuu's introverted personality, Flat was an extrely strange heretic regarded as a dangerous even by the Mage's Association.
Because of his unorthodox thinking and disregard for magical common sense, he had been expelled from multiple classrooms at the Clock Tower.
In the end, El-lloi II recognized his talent and, overcoming all difficulties, accepted him as a disciple.
In the Clock Tower classrooms, Matou Yuu was one of the few people who could keep up with this eccentric's thought process and calmly accept him. Their relationship had always been good.
However, Matou Yuu was very surprised that the other party could call him inside this isolated illusion.
"Why are you calling at a ti like this…?" Matou Yuu asked in a low voice.
From the other end of the phone ca Flat's incredibly carefree voice. "Ah… Honestly, yesterday when you had just gotten off the plane, I casually hacked into the police station's internal surveillance network and pinpointed your location. But you were being secretly tracked by troubleso people, so I didn't have the courage to contact you right away."
"It just so happened that my companion Ayaka and I were on our way to visit a patient at the hospital in the city center. That's when we ran into you in danger, so we asked Saber-san and Jack-san for help."
"By the way, Yuu-kun, the phone you're holding right now is actually my Servant Jack in disguise. Since he's a conceptual existence, he can ignore the signal jamming inside this illusion and directly call you using the contract, you know?"
Why could a Servant transform into a communication device…?
Before Matou Yuu could retort, he quickly continued. "Let's put that aside for now. Flat, is there a way to break this illusion? It doesn't have to be completely broken. Just a small gap is enough."
"Create a crack in the illusion…?"
Flat pondered for a mont. "Honestly, although this is clearly a grand illusion created by Heroic Spirits, hacking into the core of its magic and forcibly opening a gap shouldn't be difficult… But Yuu-kun, freeing you from this illusion right now might not be a good idea for you?"
Flat kindly told them, "The amusent park you're in is now heavily surrounded by the U.S. military. If you can defeat Gilgash, maybe Jack can find a way to get you out of here—"
"If he could be defeated so easily, he wouldn't be called the Hero King." Matou Yuu shook his head.
He looked up at the intertwining sword lights and the countless magical relics raining down from high above.
Saber possessed the talent of god-like speed and had seed evenly matched with Gilgash from the start.
However, as a reincarnator, Matou Yuu knew better than anyone that even Saber who had revealed all his trump cards and the Jack the Ripper could never truly defeat Gilgash.
Despite never having won a single Holy Grail War, Gilgash's overwhelming strength was undeniable.
Not to ntion, he still hadn't released EA.
"Is that so…"
A thoughtful murmur ca from the phone, followed by his enthusiasm suddenly surging. "Got it. Yuu-kun, since you have your own ideas, I'll do my best to open a big hole in this illusion for you!"
"Jack-san, please buy as much ti as you can!"
"My Master, I shall obey your will."
The mont Flat finished speaking, his voice on the receiver cut off.
Imdiately after, the mobile phone in Matou Yuu's hand turned into a mass of shadow and slipped from his fingertips, falling to the ground.
Then, a terrifying monster over three ters tall—like sothing that had crawled out of the deepest Victorian nightmare—suddenly appeared before Matou Yuu.
It had no human face; its massive body was composed of pitch-black mist, yet strangely wore a very elegant British-style top hat on its head.
"Well then, Matou Yuu-sama, please wait here for a while."
An unbelievably low, polite, and elegant voice ca from that ugly, demonic appearance—like an old English butler.
Then the Berserker's figure transford into a dark afterimage that lted into the rainy night, flying straight toward Gilgash in the sky!
…
Deep underground in Snowfield City, inside the secluded magical workshop.
"Hahahaha!"
A clear, sweet laughter filled with sadism and sick pleasure echoed through the dim room.
"Interesting, truly interesting! Not only the sword knight faction, but even that strange berserker faction has joined the battle? How will this high-level chaotic fight turn out?"
Francesca swung her legs wrapped in white stockings while excitedly staring at the monitor screen.
In this scene, Saber had tead up with Jack the Ripper—who had transford into a terrifying demon—and was trying to overwhelm the arrogant Golden King amid the fierce assault of powerful magical artifacts.
"Hey, other , who do you think will survive this battle?" She smiled at the other version of herself who had just returned to the workshop.
François stood elegantly in the shadows, his expression exuding calm superiority.
"For the Hero King, this isn't even a warm-up… If he gets serious, even if those two top-class Servants combine their strength, it will only be a matter of ti before they are crushed."
"Hmm… That's probably true."
At that mont, Francesca seed to sense sothing and slightly shifted her gaze. "Hey, other …"
"Ah… I know. A despicable rat lurking in the shadows is trying to forcibly dispel my illusion," François said calmly.
Francesca smiled and tilted her head. "If your illusion collapses, this wonderful show can't continue—"
Before she finished speaking, François slowly raised his head, a smile filled with absolute confidence appearing on his pale, handso face.
"Who exactly do you think you're talking to? Are you trying to talk to another ''?"
Francesca paused for a mont, then suddenly burst out laughing.
"That's true."
François was a very famous black magician in history.
The illusions he created had long surpassed the rudintary realm of visual deception and reached a terrifying level capable of distorting the world's logic and materializing fantasy.
[Prelati's Spellbook]
The terror of this treasure lay not in deceiving the human brain, but in deceiving the world itself.
For example, if François showed you the illusion of being burned, your brain and the people around you would believe you were truly burned, so your body would actually suffer third-degree burns and eventually die.
Trying to break through the wall of a master illusionist who had elevated deception to truth was nothing short of foolish.
After all, as the mastermind behind this Holy Grail War, François could simply sit here maintaining the illusion and freely manipulate self-proclaid genius mages and arrogant heroes.
"If you're that confident, then let's peacefully continue enjoying this wonderful show—"
Francesca shrugged disinterestedly and returned her gaze to the central magical screen.
However, the mont her gaze landed on him, the face that had been wearing a mad smile suddenly froze.
"…Huh?"
Francesca blinked. "Why is Saber swinging his sword at exactly the sa angle as before?"
Hearing this, François also faltered for a mont, then turned his gaze to the screen.
Right now, the surveillance cara footage showed the fierce battle between the Hero King, Saber, and Jack.
But upon closer inspection, the rain of magical artifacts and the movents of the knight swinging his sword were actually looping in an infinite 30-second cycle!
The two looked at each other and almost simultaneously saw unprecedented shock in each other's eyes.
"No… that's not right!"
At that instant, François's eyes widened; his previously elegant and calm face twisted in shock, and a chilling cold instantly ran down his spine.
"Damn it… The surveillance caras aren't broken—are we the ones trapped in an illusion?!"
"How is this possible! When did this happen!?"
The mont he was deeply shocked, an ear-splitting static "shhh" sound erupted simultaneously from all the surveillance screens on the wall.
Imdiately after, dozens of surveillance screens simultaneously displayed a white-haired man in a white mage robe holding a wooden staff, with handso features.
He leaned close to the screen, wearing an extrely irritating smile, and waved brightly at the two outside. "Hey hey hey… Can you hear ? Avalon's court mage, big brother rlin here~☆!"
"I didn't really want to interrupt your movie viewing, but I've been entrusted with a mission... No matter what, Matou Yuu must not be injured. So I have no choice but to bully this disobedient junior a little."
On the screen, the white-haired mage narrowed his beautiful purple eyes and wore a gentle smile on his lips.
"As soone who descended as a Watcher, even though I have no physical body, deceiving others with illusions is truly easy... Isn't that right? Manipulating a fake junior?"
François's pale face had completely lost all expression; Francesca's body had stiffened almost imperceptibly as she stared fixedly at the white-haired man in the photo.
Then, with great difficulty, he uttered the na.
"…The Flower Magus... rlin?!"
Click—!
The mont François spoke that na, the illusion wall covering the amusent park finally opened with a small crack…
…
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