Chapter thirty five- The Sixth Holy Grail War

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Chapter thirty five- The Sixth Holy Grail War

Sinbad was out on an errand, having taken a break from eavesdropping on Kougyoku and digging up information on Al-Thamen. Nothing was warranting any results, and without Assassin to sneak into places they were pretty much at a dead-end.

"I'm surprised to see you around here, Sinbad." A man with long, pale, blond hair tied into a braid smiled at the violet haired man, "Come to ask of my help?"

Sinbad stopped walking abruptly at the voice, looking up, "Of course not. I didn't expect to see you here, Yunan."

Cautious golden eyes met mysterious blue ones. Yunan asked, "How's the seventh war going?" He was dressed in warm green clothing, fit for the season.

"Fine." Sinbad answered curtly. "Why are you here, Yunan?"

"Just passing through," The blond answered. "I hear the Assassin-class servant has fallen. This is a slow-going war, huh? Unlike last time."

Sinbad narrowed his eyes, "Why are you bringing that up now?"

"No reason, really." Yunan shrugged lightly. He decided to change the subject somewhat, "You got Archer this time, didn't you?"

"I did." Sinbad sighed, looking up at the cloudy sky. "I thought he'd be much more suited to me than Rider was, but I almost wish I had her back instead..." He went to say more, but cut himself short as he realized how comfortable he was getting. He lowered his gaze to Yunan again, only to find the blond haired mage had disappeared. Sinbad glanced around for him, but he was truly gone. "Why am I not surprised?" Yunan had a way of appearing and disappearing without warning, this was no different.

Shrugging the encounter off, the master carried on, hugging his jacket tighter around him against the cold winter air.


"The sixth Holy Grail War began and ended just thirteen years ago, which is abnormal, as most wars are fifty or so years apart," Solomon spoke, beginning his tale of how the war he participated in went. "The masters that were summoned were all good friends of mine, besides one."

Sheba nodded, continuing to list the master's names, "I was the youngest at thirteen, and Aladdin's uncle, Uraltugo, was the oldest at fifty-three. Solomon was a master as well as his friends Ithnan, Falan, and my childhood friend- Arba."

"Who was the seventh?" Alibaba asked, paying as much attention as possible. Just the thought of a thirteen-year-old having to participate in such a gruesome battle was sickening, nevermind a seventeen-year-old like Solomon had been. What horrors had this couple lived through? And what went so wrong that there 'wasn't a winner per se'?

"A man by the name of Sinbad." Solomon replied evenly.

"Sinbad?!" Alibaba exclaimed, jolting upright from his leaning position.

"You know him?" Sheba asked, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"He's a master in this war as well... A friend of the Holy Church, and at the moment, our ally." Saber narrowed his eyes in thought.

"He was the master of the Rider-class servant in our war," Solomon continued, "and used her well. He easily out-ranked Arba- and she held the Saber-class servant."

"What kind of magic did he use?" Morgiana asked, although she still felt a bit out of the loop of information. She was still angry at Alibaba, and was planning to help him as much as possible from then on.

"Nasty illusion magic," Sheba grimaced. "Fooled all of us several times... Luckily, he wasn't nearly as strong as Solomon!" Her sour expression lifted as she smiled brightly.

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