In a regally designed room, with red carpets covering the floors and old, expensive paintings hanging from the finely painted brick walls, Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia parsed through the contents of a dark, furnished wooden shelf, looking through bottles upon bottles of fine wine for one that would suit his refined states.

Despite being over a century old, he looked no older than a man in his physical prime, with his figure tall and broad, his navyish hair tied together in a wavy ponytail that hung down his shoulder with a few bangs falling over his sharp face, "This will do." A hint of satisfaction crossed his face as he grabbed a bottle with gloved hands.

He wore a white suit with a cloak hanging from his shoulders, golden embroidery accenting his regal, formal manner of dressing.

What he was doing, was something one would not expect from the leader of the Yggdmillennia clan situated out of Trifas, Romania.

A clan of magi that took in different families without much judgement, and thus carried with them a plethora of theologies and thaumaturgies pertaining to magecraft, with a few individuals specialising in their fields at a level where they could rival first class magi straight from the Clock Tower itself. Not a small feat considering that the Clock Tower was the main HeadQuarters of the Mage's Association, the governing body of all things supernatural about their world.

Darnic stared at the fine red wine within the bottle for a moment, pondering over his efforts for the better half of the past century. Wronged by the Mage's Association time and time again, he'd carved out his own path. In the third Holy Grail War, he'd stolen the allegedly omnipotent wish granting device with the help of the Third Reich under Adolf Hitler and had spent all his time till now understanding, and altering the object to suit his needs.

Finally done now, he'd declared his secession from the Clock Tower and declared the Yggdmillennia a separate body on their level. Darnic was certain he would face extreme retaliation for this but, he'd prepared sufficiently. Going so far as opening his doors to the common filth and rabble to skyrocket their numbers.

The seven servants the Grail War was originally fought between would all be summoned by his own 'family', with them, they would crush the Clock Tower's agents and use the wish to advance their own agendas.

"Darnic, I have heard you made some changes to the original individuals to be summoned." The other man in the room spoke, raising his golden eyes as he addressed his summoner and master. His long light blonde hair mixed with his pale, almost sickly skin to produce an icy countenance that was only added to by his sheer overwhelming presence.

He was Vlad Tepes, better known as Vlad Dracul the Third or Count Dracula who left mountains of corpses impaled on spikes as a message for those who sought to conquer and trample his homeland, rumoured to be an immortal blood-sucking monstrosity.

The pitch black fabric of his regal coat and dress served as a testament to his legend, coating him in the colours of the night, of the creature he was feared to be.

He was summoned as a Lancer-Class servant by Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia, one of the seven Yggdmillennia Masters and their relationship was a bit strange.

"Yes, My King. I believed it to be the better option." Darnic walked over to the Lord Impaler with graceful, practised steps, setting down a glass before slowly pouring wine for what was meant to be a servant, his servant.

Where the summoned servant — a hero of legend summoned from a different period of time given a semi-physical body and anchored to the physical world by the means of a contract and command seals that forced servitude to the summoner — usually thought of as a familiar pledged allegiance to the magus summoner, Darnic (The Master) had pledged loyalty to Vlad the Impaler (The Servant).

Vlad raised his head, gesturing for his Master to proceed with his explanation while at the same time reaching for the glass of wine, raising it to his pale lips.

"Rider, originally meant for Celenike, will go to Fiore who will summon him instead of Archer." Darnic paused for a moment, apprehensively stroking his chin, "I happened upon a rather interesting catalyst you see and Fiore, is undeniably more suited to handle the servant that will come of it."

With the power and influence the Yggdmillennia wielded, it was only natural that they would come upon top class catalysts to summon specific high-end servants BUT, the stronger the servant, the greater the magus needed to bring out their true prowess.

"Very well, if you believe it to be the better course." Vlad nodded his head, seemingly needing no further explanation.

"As expected, you can understand, my King." Darnic bowed his head with a hand over his chest, his eyes closed in a show of submission.

Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia, while deprived of the use of her legs, was the most promising of their newest generation, boasting immense intellect and raw talent that could be better used in command of Rider. She was the only one with any actual talent and he felt her prowess adequate for his successor.

Celenike Icecolle Yggdmillennia was a promising magus too but her personality was problematic, her family was almost all dead for their use of Black Magic, hunted down by the Church.

In terms of pure talent and personal strength, Fiore was just plain superior.

Vlad slightly scoffed at the excessive flattery and put the glass down on the table, "Pray tell, who is this servant you hope to summon?" He glanced at Darnic from the corner of his eye, somewhat curious.

Darnic had summoned Vlad months prior to the Holy Grail War in a bid for defence and superior fighting power and his choice was the correct one seeing how the Impaler dispatched almost 50 top class magi nearly instantly, even if the rabble managed to activate the Apocrypha protocol before death, making the original 7 servant conflict into a 14 servant one in the form of a two team battle.

"The Wolfheart." Darnic answered politely, believing the closeness of their time periods to be enough for the ruler to understand who referred to, "I believe he will bolster our strength far more than some Paladin." The potential Dragon Rider would ironically be more open to the modus operandi of Magus considering his ruthlessness in comparison to a Holy figure motivated by a steadfast sense of justice.

Vlad let out a small laugh at the notion, "If the legend is truth then certainly." He stared at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling for a few moments, "I suppose that is one thing to look forward to."

Darnic felt that for a singular moment, the Count of Wallachia seemed genuinely intrigued and radiated expectation.

"There is a certain beauty in those that abandon all else for what they hold dear."

Standing behind his servant, Darnic saw certain parallels between the ruthless soldier and a heretical abomination.

*

Sitting in her wheelchair, as she was most of the time, Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia ran her delicate, long fingers across the surface of the rough textured black blade lying on her study table, it's sharp features illuminated by the light of a lamp lying by it's side.

Fiore twirled her long wavy brown hair in one hand, resting her head on the other as her clear blue eyes took in the weapon's strange features.

It wasn't terribly long, seemingly thinner than normal and slightly curved near the end but not enough for her to think it oriental in origin. It was thick in some places, and jagged in a way that made her think it was meant for piercing and not for slashing.

She could practically feel the Mystery rolling off it, testifying the strength of it's legend and it's age.

For the Head of the Forvedge Family, inheriting her title at a young age and being only 19 at the moment, Fiore felt her desire for the Holy Grail was a little too childish.

Childish enough that it felt like a Hero of Legend would refuse her desire and think of her as an incompetent Master to fight for.

Her 'Grandfather' had made her change catalysts a little too late but he was terrifying enough that she didn't utter a single word of discontent. This however left her with little time to research the weapon's owner.

As a joke, Fiore tried to lift it and as expected, failed miserably as the weapon refused to even budge in her grasp.

She placed both hands over her chest and inhaled deeply to calm her breathing, closing her eyes before opening them with a different sort of convicted resolve.

She could not use her legs and if she were to heal them, they would lose the magic circuits they held and in doing so, cripple Fiore in a way she dreaded greatly. It would destroy her as a magus considering those very circuits facilitated the casting of any and all magecraft.

Through the Grail, Fiore wished to heal her legs.

For that, she would fight, even if she didn't like it.

The young girl's thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt by a pale haired homunculus with brown eyes opening the door to her room and bowing her head, "Lady Forvedge, it is time." She dutifully relayed her Master's commands and treaded in with slow, measured steps to help Fiore with the catalyst.

"Very well." Fiore smiled gently, not at all bothered by the sudden intrusion.

They were preparing for a war, an attitude was unneeded.

She stared at the star-filled night sky and sighed.

Tonight, they would summon all seven servants.

Tonight, a Great Holy Grail War would begin.

* * *

FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDBAAAAAAAAAACK!

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I don't recommend joining since it's less than 7 but if you want to, go ahead. I'm going to release a number of chapters there over the course of the next two or so days.