The world of magecraft is a messy one. Has been and always will be.

Especially when there are grail wars that will grant the final victor any wish. That's a horrible reward due to the fact that the mages are all saturated with greed and pride.

And one was happening right now.

A summoning circle formed with dried blood suddenly shone brightly, a dark mist enveloping the area -- the atmosphere suddenly becoming dense with mana.

Then, a man emerged from the circle, sword in hand, "Woah, woah! This feels like an emergency summoning," a boyish and energetic voice boomed, "True name, Charlemagne -- well, there's a more major name than that, but let's not talk about it."

Charlemagne chuckled, "I'll show you to your heart's content how far a hero's appearance in legends -- no, rumours, go."