Aozaki Aoko Case File

Credits: Alexander Martinez

"Well, I don't know what to say," Marisbury said with a smile filled with helplessness. "I never expected the renowned Miss Blue would participate in this Holy Grail War as a Master."

"May I boldly ask your reason for joining this war?" Marisbury's expression grew a little more serious.

"Of course, it's for money," Aozaki Aoko replied matter-of-factly. "It's impossible to continue researching new magical breakthroughs without funding."

"I heard that the winner of the Holy Grail War can have one wish granted, so I decided to join. If I win, I'll wish for an endless supply of money!"

Aoko's honesty truly shocked the other participants. At the very least, it was enough to challenge the worldview of Waver and Kayneth, both of whom valued magical honor and victory above all else.

From afar, Emiya Kiritsugu, who was eavesdropping, fell silent. Is this what my ally is like? (The details of Aoko's earlier conversation with Acht had not been shared with him.)

To compare his ideal of saving humanity with such a vulgar desire for wealth… placing them on the same scale was an insult to his beliefs. It was an insult to the sacrifice of Irisviel's life!

Kiritsugu's heart swelled with resentment. No matter the outcome of this Holy Grail War, Aozaki Aoko must not win. Her wish would mock his ideals, dishonoring everything he had sacrificed.

Stay calm… stay calm… Kiritsugu noticed his heartbeat quickening. But, through years of experience and training, he forced himself to steady his breathing and calm his emotions.

He wasn't sure what a Magician could truly achieve, but in his eyes, a Magician was still human. And as long as they were human, they had weaknesses. They could be killed.

Over the years, Kiritsugu had killed countless arrogant magi, earning himself the title of Magus Killer. This Holy Grail War would be no exception.

As long as his plan was thorough enough, whether it was a Lord of the Clock Tower or one of the world's few true Magicians, he could kill them all.

Because Kiritsugu Emiya would never reject any method that could bring him closer to his goal. He would kill them in ways unimaginable to any magus.

For now, however, Aozaki Aoko was still his ally. Even if he intended to betray her, he would wait for the perfect moment to strike a guaranteed fatal blow.

On the other hand, Marisbury's expression was far more intriguing—it wasn't shocking, nor was it anger.

It was something closer to, "How could someone share the same goal as me in this Holy Grail War?"—a complex emotion.

"Truly unexpected. As expected of a Magician," Marisbury said with heartfelt admiration. "In that case, I believe we must talk."

"Oh? How so?" Aoko seemed intrigued by Marisbury's words. "Does the Department of Astromancy have some special insights about this war?"

"Perhaps we could become allies," Marisbury said seriously. "At the very least, I see no reason to oppose Miss Blue in this battle."

"That does sound good," Aoko shrugged. "Since Lord El-Melloi has set the example, there's no need for me to fight alone."

Having said this, Aoko glanced at Artoria, who stood beside her.

The Knight King nodded, and Dun Stallion obediently carried her to the vicinity of the Magecraft King.

Aoko, without any hesitation, used her Arbitrary Door to disappear and reappear at Artoria's side in the blink of an eye.

She didn't consider the Arbitrary Door wasted—on this battlefield of seasoned magi and clairvoyant schemers, the more inexplicable and unpredictable her methods, the more fear and caution they would inspire.

Seeing Marisbury inexplicably ally with Aozaki Aoko, Kayneth couldn't help but twitch at the corners of his mouth.

Their alliance is a union of strength. And me? I'm only here because of an accident, and I'm stuck with a student. Can that even compare?

Am I here to do charity work?

At that moment, Lord El-Melloi was already entertaining thoughts of withdrawal. Initially, when he heard about the Holy Grail War, he had only intended to gild his impressive resume. Instead, unexpected events continued to occur one after another.

Perhaps Lord Zelretch foresaw this before I ever came here, he thought bitterly.

...

At a location farther from the Miyama River Park, Matou Zouken and his Servant, Berserker, hid in a shelter concealed by a unique magical technique.

Through his specialized concealment, Zouken ensured he wouldn't be discovered by the Magecraft King or his Master.

His eyes burned as he gazed at the emotionless king in the sky, feelings of nostalgia and hatred stirring within him.

Now isn't the time to act, Zouken calculated. He would wait until the war reached its final stage and strike all at once to eliminate the remaining Masters and Servants.

He was confident in his concealment.

Under his control, the ordinarily mindless Berserker behaved as calmly and obediently as a regular Servant.

No, under his manipulation, Berserker was even more compliant than ordinary Heroic Spirits.

However, as with all things in life, the unexpected still happens.

The Berserker Zouken so firmly controlled suddenly erupted into uncontrollable madness after seeing a certain king's figure through Zouken's surveillance magic.

Berserker let out a bestial roar, shattering the restraining spells suppressing his rage one by one. Like a frenzied beast, the dark knight burst through the walls of their hiding place.

In moments, Berserker had leaped an incredible distance. Powered by Zouken's vast magical energy, the dark knight reached the limits of physical ability—almost flying through the concrete jungle as if he were the Hulk from a comic book.

However, due to earlier combat, nearby U.S. military forces had already noticed something unusual. Two F-16 fighter jets had bypassed Japan's government and taken off, heading toward the Miyama River area.

The noise of their jet engines drew Berserker's attention. He looked up, growled ferociously, and leaped toward one of the F-16s with inhuman strength, just as the Hulk might.

By the time the pilot detected something approaching on radar, it was already too late. Berserker's monstrous power tore apart the first jet, using its wreckage as a springboard to leap onto the second.

With claw-like hands, Berserker dug into the aircraft's frame. His unique Noble Phantasm—dark, infectious magic—poured into the fighter jet like a rampant plague.

In mere moments, the pilot was dead, and the jet had fallen under Berserker's control.

The fighter jet turned pitch black, becoming—quite literally—Berserker's Noble Phantasm.

PS: ARTHUUUUURR!