A mysterious light screen hung in the void where various worlds converged.
Soft yet clear light and shadows spread out the images, causing viewers from every timeline to hold their breath, their gazes locked onto the shifting light screen.
[Within the light screen, Artoria Santa Alter stood tall in her Christmas attire, her crimson eyes shimmering with a hint of eager interest.
She turned her head toward Fujimaru Ritsuka at her side, her lips curling into a mischievous arc, her tone solemn yet unable to hide her anticipation: “Finally, the day has come, Ritsuka.
Tonight will be the last, and most exciting, piece of work.”]
[She paused for a moment, her fingertip lightly tapping the Christmas bell hanging from her waist.
Amidst the crisp chime, her tone gained a touch of formal gravity as she slowly stated the reason for this trip: “The final letter for ‘Please, Santa Claus’ comes from the homeless Miss Alter.”]
[Artoria Santa Alter nodded slightly, raising her hand to unhurriedly adjust the Christmas cape on her shoulders.
Her words were clear, her tone carrying the insight shared between those of the same kind: “An evil Servant struggling in the abyss of curses…
in other words, one of my kind.”]
[She paused, leaning in slightly closer to Ritsuka.
Her voice was steady as she detailed the wish, her eyes twinkling with amusement: “The desired gift is a ‘board game to play happily with everyone.’ Something like the Japanese game called Sugoroku, where you move your avatar (piece) by rolling dice and continuously buy land on the game board.”]
[To make sure Ritsuka understood better, she added the game’s rules, her fingers unconsciously stroking the edge of her cape, her tone drifting with a faint interest in this amusing way to play: “Players squeeze the assets of others through land purchases, rent, or tolls, striving to become a billionaire.
The conditions for clearing the game vary, but most only require reaching a target amount of wealth or bankrupting the other players.”]
[Having said that, she turned to look at Fujimaru Ritsuka.
The coldness that had previously lingered in her eyes completely dissolved, a smile spreading across her lips, and even her crimson eyes were tinged with warmth.
Her tone lightened: “The Servant who wants this kind of game is right below us.
Aren’t you excited?”]
[She reached out and patted Ritsuka’s shoulder, her fingertips applying a bit of pressure.
Her tone suddenly took on the arrogance and defiance of an evil Santa Claus, her voice trailing off with a hint of playfulness: “Then let us go.
Do not forget to smile, do not forget to pray, and do not forget the sadism.”]
[Artoria Santa Alter pulled her cape tighter.
Her aura held both the festive cheer of Christmas and the biting chill of an Alter.
Looking toward the mist-shrouded distance, her voice was firm and carried a hint of fanaticism: “As an evil Santa Claus, we must complete this final important task!”]
The scene shifted.
Inside the Holy Church of the fourth war world, candlelight flickered, casting a dim yellow glow on Kotomine Risei’s solemn face.
He stared at the light screen in the void, his brow furrowed, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the Bible in his hand.
His voice was low, filled with confusion and doubt: “Smiling, praying…
are these words that can be linked with sadism?”
On the other side, Emiya Shirou of the fifth war world widened his eyes in shock.
He instinctively took half a step forward, his tone filled with bewilderment and incomprehension as he questioned: “Wait!
What do you mean by an ‘evil Santa Claus’!?” He truly could not reconcile the warm image of Santa Claus with the word ‘evil.’
[The images on the light screen shifted.
A biting cold wind swept across the sky, carrying fine snow.
Artoria Santa Alter’s sleigh came riding upon the clouds.
The silver bells jingled rhythmically with the sleigh’s swaying, a series of crisp and pleasant sounds that gradually faded as the sleigh touched down.
She was the first to leap off, turning back to reach out a hand to Ritsuka in a swift and composed manner.]
[She looked toward the figure not far away, her lips curling into a bold smile.
Her voice was clear and carried a deliberate high profile: “Sorry to keep you waiting.
Santa Claus arrives accompanied by the sound of magnificent bells.”]
[Following her voice, a slender yet strong figure slowly emerged.
Long silver-white hair fluttered slightly in the cold wind, and pitch-black armor glinted coldly in the dim light.
A faint black mist swirled around her—it was none other than Jeanne d’Arc Alter.
Her eyes were downcast, her aura carrying a hint of impatience and detachment, as if nothing around her was worth her notice.]
[A few lines of clear text flashed across the light screen, vanishing in an instant, but long enough for all viewers to see: Jeanne d’Arc Alter, currently still in the Ruler spirit core.
ml radar assessment: At this moment, she is not ml.]
[Jalter looked up and saw who had arrived, and her brow snapped tight.
Her silver-grey eyes instantly filled with disgust and impatience.
Her tone was one of pure loathing, and she spoke almost through gritted teeth: “—This is awful.
Truly awful.
I never expected the worst possible woman for me to actually show up.”]
[Fujimaru Ritsuka followed, leaping off the sleigh.
When he saw the person before him, his eyes filled with surprise, and he instinctively called out in a startled tone: “Miss Jeanne d’Arc Alter!?” He paused, his gaze falling on the sparse Christmas decorations adorning Jalter, and he quickly added with a hint of cautious praise: “That…
that’s a really beautiful Christmas outfit.”]
[Unexpectedly, these words did not soften Jalter’s expression; instead, they seemed to touch a nerve.
She snapped her eyes up, anger surging in her silver-grey depths.
Her brow furrowed even tighter, and her tone was sharp and filled with indignation as her voice rose: “Where?
How can decorations of this level be called magnificent?”]
[She brushed a hand over the somewhat festive decorations, her movements full of disdain as if they were something unsightly.
Her tone was cold and defiant: “These are just things the Wraiths did on their own; they aren’t my taste.
If it were up to me, I’d definitely make them in the pattern of a Burning stake.”]
[As soon as she finished speaking, the anger in her eyes abruptly faded.
Her lips slowly curled into a playful and dangerous smile, and a glint of amusement flashed in her silver-grey eyes.
She took a step forward, slowly closing in on Fujimaru Ritsuka, her tone gentle yet carrying a bone-chilling cold: “Setting that aside, will you be my Scarecrow, Fujimaru Ritsuka?
A Scarecrow hanging up there, burning fiercely…
that sounds nice, it really makes my blood boil.”]
[She leaned in slightly, her gaze locked onto Ritsuka, the malice in her smile becoming more evident.
Her tone was nonchalant yet every word was clear: “That way, the debt I owe you can be wiped clean.
After all, if you’re dead, there’s no need to pay anything back, right?”]
In the camp of the fourth war world, Waver Velvet watched Jalter’s aggressive display on the light screen.
Hearing those heart-stabbing words, he shrunk his neck in fear and instinctively took half a step back.
His face was full of terror as he couldn’t help but cry out: “Uwah, she’s still so terrifying at a time like this!”
Just as he finished speaking, a massive force came from behind.
Iskandar the King of Conquerors slammed a hand onto his back.
The force was so great that it sent Waver stumbling forward, tumbling several times on the ground before he finally managed to stop, looking utterly pathetic.
Iskandar raised an eyebrow, his tone full of disappointment as he scolded in a booming voice: “Boy, you are far too cowardly!
As the Master of me, the King of Conquerors, you must never be frightened like this!”
Waver lay on the ground, a dull ache throbbing in his back.
Looking up at Iskandar’s towering figure, he was filled with grievance and indignation.
However, in the end, he did not dare to speak out, only able to grit his teeth, crawl up, and silently brush the dust off his clothes.