As the gale brushed the crowns of the cacti, a desert iguana looked up, its eyelids blinking. The profound night sky above the Mojave reflected in its gaze. It was a pity it couldn't understand: Venus had drifted into Aquarius, and the moon was perfectly aligned with Sirius. The hour is ripe for summoning spirits. Inside a remote cavern, a silver-haired silhouette in black robes murmured to a colossal magic circle. "Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Repeated five times But when filled, it shall be discarded Declare My will creates thy body, and thy sword creates my destiny. If thou heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me" The wind howled with increasing fury as the magic circle crackled with blinding electricity. Pebbles began to drift off the ground, defying gravity, yet the aged magus kept his right hand aloft, chanting with unwavering power, exposing the crimson Command Spells etched upon the back of his hand. "Thou, Seven Heavens, shrouded by the three great words of power, comeforth from the circle of inhibition, Guardian of the Scales!" The howling wind died down, and the arcs of lightning dissipated. A lone figure emerged from the settling stillness at the center of the magic array. "It is done!" The magus couldn't help but erupt into maniacal laughter. Hearing the uncontrolled laughter, the Servant spoke with an icy tone: "I ask of you: Are you that arrogant Magus who presumes to find refuge under the splendor of this king?" The laughter ceased. Overwhelmed with ecstasy, the Magus flung his arms wide: "Yes! I am your Master—" Before his words could even fade, blood erupted in a violent spray. His right wrist, along with the Command Spells, was severed in a single, clean stroke. Paralyzed by disbelief for a heartbeat or two, the Magus then crumpled to the earth, howling in wretched pain. The Servant, however, didn't even flicker an eyebrow. "So, you were merely a clown? Then please this King with even more magnificent shrieks!" Out of the shadows came a cool, aloof voice, belonging to one who sounded quite young: "Pardon my tardy arrival. Pray, allow me to pay my respects to the Great King in this lowly form." Dismissing the wretch moaning at his feet, the Heroic Spirit spoke: "Permission granted. I bestow upon you the honor of an audience." To the rhythmic staccato of high heels, a petite figure emerged from the shadows. She appeared to be about twelve or thirteen years old, yet she was clad in a snow-white dress that resembled a wedding dress, exposing her thin, dark-toned shoulders. Her refined upbringing was evident from her gait alone. "Who... who are you?" The Magus struggled to lift his head, his ashen face fixed upon the youthful figure. "How is it possible for a mere girl to bypass my Boundary?" Seeing the girl drop to her knees the moment she reached the threshold of the illumination and immediately knelt, the Heroic Spirit’s eyes thinned into slits. "Amusing," he said, his tone subdued yet piercing. "But spreading this meaningless smell of gore in my presence—you must provide a justification for this insolence." The girl picked up the gore-stained severed hand, cradling it with exquisite grace against her chest as she offered it to the King. "My deepest apologies. I took the liberty of imposing a minor chastisement upon the vermin who dared covet you, even before Your Majesty’s judgment could be passed." Averting her gaze to the Magus, she looked upon him with eyes of ice. "It is my hope that you withdraw from this sanctuary at once. Should you do so, I may yet grant you the mercy of survival." The Magus stared at the Command Spells on the severed hand—his life's work... Gritting his teeth with desperate resolve, he summoned a sphere of light with his left hand. "Bælwielm, consume her!" Without a word, the girl pressed both palms to the earth. A colossal fire tornado roared into the sky, engulfing the Magus in an instant. Moments later, as the flames dissipated, only the lingering stench of charred flesh remained in the air.