Chapter 91: Preferred Roles

Angra Mainyu summoned all her servants before the pulsing grotesque sight of the Corrupted Holy Grail. The five Heroic Spirit, each hailing from a different era and region, stood obediently before her. Well, except for Oda Nobunaga and Nagao Kagetora, who came from the same era.

“My servants…” Angra Mainyu slowly said as she eyed the five Heroic Spirits. Her emotionless gaze stopped on the knight in demonic armor. “Saber… I summoned you to overcome a challenge you… could never in your life. Defeat your father.”

Angra Mainyu had complete knowledge of every servant on Haruki’s side, whether it was the enigmatic Counter Guardian or the Queen who poisoned her husband. She chose to give every servant a matchup according to their compatibility in the war that’d happen as soon as her Assassin showed success or failure.

Mordred was the best candidate to battle Arthur. She’d put everything on the line to beat King Arthur Pendragon.

Mordred brought up a clenched fist as her helm split open, revealing a youthful face. “I wounded the King that took his life. It won’t be a heavy wound this time. I will defeat that hypocrite King and slaughter all servants standing in my way. My wish is to challenge the Sword of Appointment. He, who despised my pedigree, will bear witness to my victory over the Sword of Appointment.”

She was born of infidelity between King Arthur and King’s own sister, Morgan Le Fay. The tainted pedigree denied her the right to throne, or so she thought. She’d show her right to rule by pulling out the sword that her father one pulled out.

Gilgamesh chuckled on his throne. “A half-assed homunculus can only dream of defeating my Artoria. You will fail.”

"What nonsense. Of course I will defeat the King. I will smash his face!"

Mordred puffed up with pride and so proclaimed. From the overpowering weight behind her words, one could see that she possessed dignity befitting a king.

“His?” Gilgamesh asked before he realized Mordred’s ignorance. “You’ll be disappointed once you meet Artoria.”

“Artoria again? Who is Artoria?”

Gilgamesh closed his eyes, imagining the chaotic fight between Mordred and Artoria. A battle between a mother and daughter over the throne, which Artoria never wanted.

“Smells like family drama in here,” Nobunaga whispered. “Otara, did fights like these happen in your house too?”

Oda Clan was rife with internal struggles. She wondered if the Nagao Clan had the same issues.

“I am not sure. I was mostly on the frontline, leading my men against Takeda.”

Most of her busy time was spent sharpening her blades and wondering about her weapon choice. She also tried the western guns and matchlocks. It turned out she absolutely sucked at using any weapon with projections. Nobody knew that, of course. Echigo’s God of War, Touhachi Bishamonten’s Avatar, couldn’t use a gun. It’d be embarrassing if people came to know about this.

“You’re weird.” Nobunaga smirked. “That’s why I like you.”

“Haha. It’s rare for people to say that with my inhumane disposition.”

Angra Mainyu shifted her gaze to her next target, Rider Jason. “You must defeat Medea.”

Jason shivered hearing the name his mind forced him to forget. The name of the crazed woman who burned every person at his wedding. The joyous and blissful ceremony turned into a funeral for his close ones. Even his children weren’t spared.

“Why is that witch back? What gives?”

He was so dead. She’d kill him.

“Wait!”

He looked back to his friend who was tied by golden chains. The giant of a man traveled the world and fought every monster. He who overcame twelve labors as an undefeated warrior and ultimately rose to the seat of a god—Heracles.

As a summoned servant, Heracles lacked his usual intelligence and dignity. His strength was still a real deal.

‘Her sorcery can’t do jack against Heracles. All are trash before his unparalleled strength.’

He had nothing to worry about with Heracles by his side. His thoughts reached clarity once the clouds of fear vanished. In the waves of calm, he realized a possibility—Medea might still love him. On the wedding day, she killed everyone but him. She left him alive, possibly for him to repent and return to her. It made sense the more he thought about it. After all, she killed her family for him. How could she fall out of love with him, the most charismatic and eloquent man she had ever met.

“Angra Mainyu,” Jason said, tone brimming with a new confidence. “I want Heracles free. He’ll be leading the charge under my command. My Noble Phantasm ‘Astrapste Argo’ can boost him and summon my crewmates. The righteous hero will prevail over the trash and scummy mage.”

Angra Mainyu thought for a second. Freedom for Heracles meant a chance of chaos but she felt like the risk was worth it. Something beckoned her to free Heracles from his miserable state. “It’ll be done.”

After arranging plans for two enemy servants, Angra Mainyu turned towards Nagao Kagetora. “Son of the God Lugh, Cú Chulainn… you will defeat him.”

“A demigod?” Kagetora’s eyes lit up, battle spirit surging around her. “By Bishamonten’s will, I shall defeat the demigod.”

Nobunaga nudged Kagetora out of her battle lust state. “Their Lancer has the Spear of Fated Death.”

“Ohhh! The clash of mythic spear and my armaments.”

Kagetora grinned foolishly, picturing her clash with Cu Chulainn.

Nobunaga shook her head side to side. Her friend was more battle hungry than her, a befitting pursuit for the avatar of a god of war.

“Who am I fighting?”

“The Archer Emiya… a dangerous servant from the future…” Angra Mainyu paused between words as if taking time to think. “Watch out for his Noble Phantasm…”

“An Archer from the future. Some challenge you’re giving me.”

Angra Mainyu noticed a lack of enthusiasm in Nobunaga’s voice, which Kagetora failed to notice. The Avatar of Bishamonten showed most emotions in the face of battles or when daydreaming about those battles.

“I’ll head out now.” Nobunaga took Kagetora’s hand and practically dragged out of the suffocating cave.

On their way, she bumped into the black-haired priest. She ignored him before any words of displeasure came out of her mouth. She hated those who relied on god. Priests and Shrine Maidens were on top of her dislike list.

Meanwhile, in the cave, Solomon kept an aloof expression while praying to the god. He was last in line and he wasn’t ready to kill another servant. The era had changed, so much potential for exploration and travel.

All his prayers of survival were in vain, however. Angra Mainyu shifted her gaze to him, showing no emotion on her face.

“And Solomon… I want you to lead them.“

The King of Magecraft was most worthy to lead her servants, using his highest-ranked magecraft spells to support the party. He might have taken down every servant but his vessel wouldn’t allow the use of such great power. Heracles and Kagetora would wipe the floor with every servant.

For Solomon, this was the best case scenario. He could sit back and observe the battles from afar.

‘It can’t be helped. I am a servant and she is my master.’

He followed God’s will most of his life, so following orders wasn’t anything strange.

Angra Mainyu directed a role to all of her servants. She wasn’t a tactical genius or anything remotely close to it. She just knew the skills each servant possessed.

How well would her compatibility list do?

Only time will tell.