Chapter 1 – Since When Do Hassans Come in Elementary School Sizes?
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Fuyuki City: a modest yet well-developed coastal town in the Far East. To outsiders, it appears utterly ordinary—save for the "gas leak incidents" that inexplicably dominate headlines every sixty years, or the occasional "gas-related serial killer" rumors.
But in truth, this city is a stage meticulously controlled by the Three Mage Families—the Tohsaka, Matou, and Einzbern—for their ritual known as the Holy Grail War.
Every six decades, the omnipotent wish-granting device descends, and seven mages summon seven heroic spirits from myth and legend to clash in battle. Their goal? To claim the Holy Grail, hailed as the pinnacle of magecraft and a miracle capable of fulfilling any desire. This is the origin of Fuyuki's Holy Grail War, a bloody tradition spanning generations.
And now, standing before us is a man clad in black priestly robes, his expression as inscrutable as his demeanor is oddly reserved. He is Kirei Kotomine, one of the Masters chosen by the Grail for this iteration of the war.
"Kirei, our alliance must remain absolute secrecy."
"Father Risei and I have already deliberated. Should the Assassin you summon prove too weak, use it to obscure our collaboration."
"If the Mage Association discovers the Holy Church is colluding with a Master… even we would face complications."
These words from his teacher, Tokiomi Tohsaka—current head of the Tohsaka family—lingered in Kirei's mind as he gazed at the completed summoning circle within the chapel. His face remained impassive, yet a faint ripple of unease stirred beneath the surface.
It wasn't that he objected to his teacher's instructions. Tokiomi had mentored him generously, and with his father, Risei Kotomine, deeply entrenched in the Church's affairs, aiding the Tohsaka's pursuit of the Grail felt almost obligatory.
What perplexed Kirei was far simpler: Why had the Grail chosen him?
The Holy Grail's selection criteria were clear: Masters were chosen based on the intensity of their desires and their proximity to Fuyuki. Yet Kirei harbored no such burning wishes. Raised in the austere halls of the Church by his father, he'd never yearned for wealth, earthly pleasures, or even the arcane allure of magecraft itself. What could a priest possibly seek? A divine audience with God?
"Does the Grail perceive a desire within me that even I cannot fathom?" he mused silently. Regardless, his role was unambiguous: summon a Servant to support Tokiomi's quest for the Root.
"Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation…"
Though he didn't comprehend Tokiomi's insistence on summoning the "weakest" class, Assassin, Kirei obeyed without protest. After all, he had no personal stake in this war's outcome.
His teacher had ventured to Mesopotamia to procure the shed skin of the first serpent—a relic ancient enough to summon a Heroic Spirit from the Age of Gods. With such a trump card, Tokiomi likely viewed Assassin's role as mere reconnaissance.
Or perhaps, Kirei thought with detached curiosity, this is a precaution against betrayal.
"Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate…"
The Holy Grail War, at its core, was a ritual to summon heroes from the Throne of Heroes—legends like the King of Mages, the Oldest King of Humanity, or the Dragon-Slaying Swordsman. These mythic figures were then bound to one of seven classes:
Saber: Masters of blade and honor.
Archer: Unmatched in ranged warfare.
Lancer: Agile spearmen of lethal precision.
Rider: Commanders of mounts and armies.
Caster: Architects of arcane devastation.
Berserker: Frenzied beasts of raw power.
Assassin: Shadows who strike from darkness.
Historical records from prior wars showed Assassins and Casters often eliminated first. Yet as Kirei recited the final verse, the summoning circle erupted in a blaze of azure light.
"I hereby swear— You shall serve with eyes clouded by chaos! You, chained in the cage of madness! I am the one who shall lay claim to all of Heaven and Earth!"
As the blinding light subsided, Kirei lowered his arm and stared at the summoning circle. The mana surge had been immense—far exceeding his expectations. Had he somehow summoned the First Hassan, the legendary founder of the Assassin Order?
What stood before him, however, was no shadowy specter of death.
A small girl in oversized white pajamas blinked up at him, her silver hair fluttering in the residual mana winds. Her crimson eyes—deep as poppy flowers—widened in confusion, and her soft features held not a trace of bloodlust.
"…Since when do Hassans come in elementary school sizes?" Kirei muttered, his voice flat.
He rubbed his eyes, half-expecting an illusion to dissolve. Yet the girl remained: no hidden weapons, no skeletal mask, just a child clutching her pajama sleeves.
"Assassins excel at disguise. This must be a ploy," he reasoned coldly. "But even so… since when do Hassans wear… white cotton pajamas? Did ancient times possess such refined craftsmanship?"
The girl's attire baffled him. Her pajamas were pristine, modern even—utterly incongruous with the Assassin class's typical garb. Her delicate features and petite frame made her look no older than ten, yet the Grail's system should never summon a child Heroic Spirit.
'Is this a Servant's camouflage? A Noble Phantasm masking her true form?'
He scrutinized her closely. No matter how he assessed her, she radiated no magical energy beyond her initial summoning surge. Her posture trembled slightly, her gaze darting around the chapel like a cornered animal.
'A perfect act,' Kirei conceded grudgingly. 'If this is deception, it's masterful.'
According to Holy Grail War records, Assassins often employed psychological tactics. A harmless appearance lowered enemies' guards, making them ideal for infiltration. Yet even the most skilled Hassans couldn't fully suppress their killing intent—a flaw this girl lacked entirely.
'Beautiful yet fatal, like a poppy field,' he mused, recalling her crimson eyes. 'A poison disguised as innocence.'
Meanwhile, the silver-haired girl—Illya—stood frozen, her mind racing.
'Wait… he's speaking Japanese? But I don't know Japanese! Why can I understand him?!'
Her throat tightened. She wanted to scream, to ask where she was, but fear glued her lips shut. The last thing she remembered was napping in her dorm room. Now, she stood in a dimly lit church, facing a stern priest who looked like he'd stepped out of a gothic novel.
'Is this a dream? A cosplay prank? Why am I… Illya?!'
She glanced down at her tiny hands, her heart sinking. Her body felt foreign—lighter, smaller, with hair like spun silver. Even her voice, when she finally managed to whimper, was high-pitched and fragile.
'No no no, this can't be real—'
Kirei's gaze hardened. 'If this is truly a Hassan, why hasn't she identified herself? Is she waiting for me to lower my guard?'
He stepped closer, his black robes brushing the chapel floor. The girl flinched but didn't flee—another oddity. A true Assassin would either attack or vanish by now.
"State your True Name, Servant Assassin," he demanded, his tone firm.
The girl stiffened. 'True Name? Servant? What is he talking about?!'
Panic surged. She opened her mouth, but only a squeak escaped.
'I need to say something! But what?!'
Desperate, she blurted the first thing that came to mind—the name etched into her newfound memories.
"I-I'm… Illyasviel von Einzbern! Um, M-Master? Do you… uh… do you at least feed your Servants?"
Silence fell.
Kirei stared at her, his expression unreadable.
'Einzbern? The Third Family's homunculus? Impossible. The Grail cannot summon a living human as a Servant.'
Yet here she stood: no Spirit Origin fluctuations, no signs of a Heroic Spirit's spiritual body. She was flesh and blood—a living, breathing child.
'A glitch in the Grail's system? Or…'
His eyes narrowed. 'Is this the Einzberns' doing? A ploy to infiltrate the Church?'
But why send a child? And why as an Assassin?
The girl fidgeted under his gaze, her stomach growling audibly.
'…Or perhaps,' Kirei thought dryly, 'this is simply a farce.'