Is It Wrong to Abusing Cartoon Tropes in Dungeon?

At the church's entrance, Kairi Sisigou and Altair stood outside, while Amakusa Shirou and Semiramis remained inside, separated by a door, exchanging final words before parting.

"Mr. Kotomine, are you sure you won't join us?" Amakusa asked.

"No, I prefer to work alone. Besides, my Servant is King Arthur, more than capable of holding his own. We don't need a group." Kairi replied.

"But the Black Faction has already rallied, forming a cohesive fighting force. Going solo weakens our side and could disrupt our strategy."

"Then we'll each rely on our own skills. Isn't that what the Holy Grail War is about?" Kairi countered.

"If that's your choice, then I wish you the best of luck." Amakusa said.

Semiramis tried to persuade Kairi to join the team, but he stood firm, influenced by both Altair's presence and Mordred's subtle nudging from her dematerialized state.

"Alright, I'm off. Tonight, I'll test the waters." Kairi declared, shutting the door and leaving the church.

Amakusa stared at the closed door, frowning slightly.

"So, we never got that Saber's true name?" Semiramis asked, turning to Amakusa.

"He claims to be Arthur Pendragon. His appearance, style, and the patterns on his armor match 5th-century Britain, and his class is indeed Saber. But I can't read him at all, not even his stats." Amakusa said, troubled. As both a Master and a Ruler-class Servant with a physical body, he possessed the True Name Discernment skill, which should reveal a Servant's identity and data. Yet, despite staring at Altair, he saw nothing, no name, no stats.

"Is it a Noble Phantasm that conceals information? Those exist." Semiramis suggested.

"Probably. But something about that Saber feels off." Amakusa replied.

"Could he disrupt your plans? If so…" Semiramis made a throat-slitting gesture.

"No need. He may have some odd Noble Phantasm, but he's just one person. As long as they seek the Grail, they'll join the fight, which aligns with our early plans. As for later…" Amakusa's face broke into a confident smile. "Once your Noble Phantasm is complete, they'll pose no threat, not even a King Arthur."

"True enough." Semiramis said, her own confident smirk fading into a puzzled frown. "But one thing bothers me."

"Yeah, I know." Amakusa said.

"Right. He's a Saber, and his aura screams knight, but how is he so skilled at stealth?"

"Because of decapitation missions." Altair said outside the church, addressing Kairi's earlier shock at his sudden appearance. Inside, Kairi had been too composed to ask in front of others, but now, outside, he couldn't resist.

"Decapitation missions?" Mordred, still dematerialized, echoed curiously. Like Semiramis, she was baffled. You're a Saber, not an Assassin, how are you so good at sneaking?

"Exactly. When I first took over Camelot, I had barely any followers or knights. Facing enemy armies head-on was impossible, so to survive the early days, I'd sneak into their camps alone and assassinate their commanders." Altair explained, spinning his tale with conviction.

"That's… something a knight would do?" Kairi asked, stunned. Mordred was equally shocked. The King Arthur, an assassin?

"First, I'm a king, then a knight. I wouldn't let some chivalric code risk my people's lives. That's not what a king does." Altair said, his nonsense delivered with utmost seriousness.

"No one knew I killed their commanders because I eliminated every witness. Once, I wiped out an entire enemy army. No evidence, no problem. I went on as usual, and Camelot's people and knights never knew their King Arthur was a master of assassination."

With that kind of power, why bother with stealth? You could've just crushed them outright! Kairi thought, his jaw twitching as he mentally roasted this bizarre parallel-world King Arthur.

"And chivalry? That's only for when it's needed. Clinging to it all the time doesn't make you a knight, it makes you a stubborn fool." Altair said, grinning at the air.

"Right, Father?" He added, seizing the chance to bond with Mordred.

"Exactly! Blindly following rigid rules just makes you a pigheaded idiot!" Mordred agreed enthusiastically. She was a knight, sure, but she despised fake chivalry, finding it stiff and foolish. Hearing Altair echo her views, she was all in.

This parallel-world father really gets me! she thought, already calling Altair "Father" in her mind.

"I agree, flexibility is key." Kairi said, nodding. He was thrilled inside. A Saber who excels at assassination? The Black Faction won't see it coming.

"We've got an extra card to play." Kairi chuckled. "Let's see the Black Faction deal with that."

"Alright, tonight we'll take on the Black Faction. Saber, your thoughts?" Kairi asked.

"No problem. But it's still early, and Holy Grail Wars usually kick off at night. So, before the fighting starts…" Altair snapped his fingers at the air.

"Let's grab a meal!"

Mordred, still dematerialized, chimed in. "Not bad, my sole heir! You're sharp."

"Hmph, you said it yourself, hunger's the real enemy!" Mordred said smugly, oblivious to how thoroughly she'd been won over as Altair's "daughter."

Watching this parallel-world "father and daughter" banter, Kairi shrugged helplessly. "Guess I get to enjoy another meal cooked by King Arthur."

At Altair's request, Kairi used magecraft to secure a restaurant, borrowing its kitchen and ingredients. Altair whipped up a feast, delighting Kairi. Most Nasuverse magi were eccentric, but Kairi was relatively normal, despite his grim necromancy. Eating a meal made by King Arthur? That was something to savor.

Mordred was even more thrilled. Over dinner, Altair fully won her over. By the end, she was calling him "Father." completely forgetting her flat-chested, ahoge-sporting real dad.

As night fell, the Holy Grail War began. Mordred dematerialized, trailing Altair, while he and Kairi moved openly into Tulifas, the Black Faction's territory and the war's main battlefield. The Millennia Fortress, the Black Faction's stronghold and home to the Greater Grail, lay just outside.

"Looks like we've got a welcome party." Kairi said, sensing magical fluctuations as figures closed in, surrounding them.

"Indeed, quite a few. But they're just shoddy clay dolls. Is this what passes for magecraft these days?" Altair replied, his tone so casual it made Kairi's eye twitch. Those golems took magi like him serious effort to defeat, and Altair called them clay dolls?

Oh, right. Age of Gods King Arthur. Never mind.

"What were magi like in your time?" Kairi asked.

"In my era, I knew two well. One was an attack specialist, firing off beams that could level mountains. The other was a defense master, if you weren't dead, he'd save you. Oh, and his swordsmanship was top-notch, with a stash of holy swords. We called him the Holy Sword Wholesaler." Altair said.

"Who… were they?" Kairi asked, baffled. Holy Sword Wholesaler? What even was that?

Not just anyone, Merlin, the Flower Magus, and Morgan, the beam-blaster.

Their conversation was overheard by familiars perched on nearby buildings, relaying it to the Millennia Fortress. The Black Faction's Masters and Servants, gathered there, listened in, dumbfounded. Especially the Black Faction's Caster, whose prized golems were dismissed as "clay dolls." He was itching to challenge Altair to a duel.

"Alright, they've closed the net. Time to move." Altair said, raising his right hand. Magical energy gathered in his fist, and he slammed it into the ground. A surge of power erupted, spreading like an EMP, frying nearby electronics and obliterating the familiars.

"Their spies are gone. The stage is yours, Mordred!" Altair called to the air.

Mordred materialized instantly, clad in full armor, gripping Clarent with a confident grin. "Leave the rest to me, Father!"

***

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