‘Fate/Zero’ sets its Holy Grail War in the modern city of Fuyuki, but the conflict is anything but contemporary. It pulls legendary souls from history and myth into a clash where mages and their summoned Servants battle for a single wish-granting vessel. The series is famous for its dense plotting and philosophical weight, yet at its core the entire war turns on something more fragile: the alliances between Masters and Servants, and the unexpected coalitions that form between the participants themselves. Without these shifting bonds, the battle would be nothing more than chaotic skirmishes. It is the unlikely pairings—some forged in desperation, others in genuine admiration—that give the story its emotional gravity and strategic depth.

The Nature of Alliances in the Holy Grail War

A Holy Grail War is, on paper, a free-for-all. Seven Masters command seven Servants, and the last pair standing claims the Grail. Yet from the first episode, the participants understand that outright isolation is a losing strategy. Alliances emerge out of necessity: to take down a common threat, to pool information, or simply because a Master’s own abilities aren’t enough to protect them. What makes ‘Fate/Zero’ stand apart is how these partnerships rarely rely on genuine trust. They are transactional, often laced with hidden agendas and the expectation of eventual betrayal. The story continually asks whether a bond formed amid such carnage can ever be pure, or if every handshake is just another move on the chessboard.

Early in the war, the differences in motivation become apparent. Some Masters seek the Grail for personal ambition, others for salvation, and a few are driven by a twisted sense of purpose. The Servants, too, have their own wishes and regrets, making every alliance a negotiation between two separate agendas. The resulting dynamics don’t just influence who wins a fight; they determine what each character is willing to sacrifice and, ultimately, what kind of person they become. The Holy Grail War doesn’t just wear down bodies—it disintegrates ideals, and the alliances spectators witness are the crucible where that disintegration happens.

To understand how these bonds change the tide of battle, it’s helpful to examine the specific pairings that define the series. Some are obvious Master-Servant relationships that evolve into something resembling partnership, while others are outright collaborations between rival camps. The following case studies illustrate just how dramatically an unlikely alliance can reshape the entire conflict.

Case Studies in Unlikely Alliances

Kiritsugu Emiya and Saber: Pragmatism vs. Honor

On the surface, Kiritsugu Emiya and King Arthur could not be more incompatible. Kiritsugu is a cold tactician who has seen too many battlefields to believe in glory. Saber, summoned as the legendary ruler of Camelot, holds fast to the knightly code she upheld in life. Their Master-Servant bond begins with mutual distrust: Kiritsugu refuses to speak to her directly, regarding her as a tool rather than a partner, and Saber is horrified by his methods—assassinations, hostage exploitation, and a complete disregard for fair combat. This friction is not just personal; it is a philosophical war within the Holy Grail War itself.

Yet the alliance endures because both share a profound, albeit different, type of resolve. Kiritsugu dreams of a world without conflict, even if he must become a monster to achieve it. Saber wishes to undo her own kingship, believing she failed her people. Their common destination—the Grail—forces them to witness each other’s breaking points. Over time, the dynamic shifts subtly. Saber’s unwavering honor forces Kiritsugu to confront the human cost of his utilitarian arithmetic, while Kiritsugu’s willingness to dirty his hands shows Saber that the battlefield she idealized never truly existed. Their interactions reshape the war’s trajectory at key moments, especially during the final confrontation with Kirei Kotomine and Gilgamesh. It is an alliance that never finds comfort, but it does find a strange, tragic synergy. When the Grail reveals its corrupted nature, it is Kiritsugu’s command to Saber to destroy it that crystallizes just how far this bond has come—and how devastating its legacy will be.

Rider and Waver Velvet: The King and the Student

If Kiritsugu and Saber’s bond is a study in friction, Rider and Waver Velvet’s is a portrait of unexpected friendship. Waver enters the war as a petulant student from the Clock Tower, stealing a relic to prove his worth to a system that mocked him. He summons Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, in the form of Rider—a Servant who dwarfs him in both size and personality. Their early dynamic is comedic: Rider treats the Holy Grail War as a grand adventure, dragging a bewildered Waver along to buy maps and barrels of wine, while Waver frets about strategy.

Beneath the humor, however, lies one of the most transformative alliances in the series. Rider sees potential in Waver that Waver cannot see in himself. He doesn’t just instruct him in tactics; he teaches him what it means to lead, to dream, and to accept one’s own smallness without shame. Waver, in turn, gives Rider something he never had in life: the chance to witness a follower grow not from fear or conquest, but from genuine admiration. Their bond culminates in the battle against Gilgamesh, where Waver—who once only wanted recognition—stands by his king even as defeat becomes certain. Rider’s final charge is not just a display of martial glory; it is the moment Waver understands that the size of one’s army means nothing without the loyalty of a single true companion. The alliance alters the war’s emotional landscape, reminding everyone that the Grail might grant wishes, but it cannot conjure the kind of loyalty Iskandar inspired.

Kirei Kotomine and Gilgamesh: A Pact of Darkness

Kirei Kotomine begins the war as a hollow man. An executor of the Church, he is a man whose life has been defined by discipline and self-denial, yet who cannot find pleasure in anything except the suffering of others—a fact he stubbornly denies. Gilgamesh, the ancient King of Uruk, is his opposite: a being of such absolute self-love and arrogance that he considers all else in the world his possession. Their alliance blossoms not from trust, but from a shared recognition of emptiness and desire. Gilgamesh sees in Kirei a fascinating contradiction, a man who has locked away his true nature behind a mask of piety. He deliberately draws out Kirei’s repressed sadism, treating the priest’s moral collapse as a form of entertainment.

This partnership becomes the most dangerous force in the war. Kirei provides Gilgamesh with the modern knowledge and mana supply he needs, while Gilgamesh gives Kirei the philosophical justification to embrace his darkest impulses. By the war’s end, Kirei has fully transformed into a manipulator who delights in despair, and Gilgamesh has found a Master worthy of witnessing his grandeur. Their alliance is the catalyst for multiple tragedies: the death of Tokiomi Tohsaka, the corruption of the Grail, and the final cataclysmic battle that consumes much of Fuyuki. It proves that the deadliest bonds are not those forged in hatred, but those kindled in mutual self-destruction. Neither man trusts the other in a traditional sense, yet they align perfectly because each gives the other permission to become what they already wanted to be.

The Forgotten Alliance: Tokiomi Tohsaka and Kirei Kotomine

Before Kirei turned to Gilgamesh, his alliance was with Tokiomi Tohsaka, the refined head of the Tohsaka family. This partnership, often overlooked in discussions of ‘Fate/Zero’, sets much of the war’s treachery in motion. Tokiomi is the picture of a magus: calculating, calm, and utterly convinced of his own superiority. He sees Kirei as a loyal subordinate, a man whose lack of a driving wish makes him the perfect tool to ensure the Tohsaka victory. Tokiomi even arranges for Kirei to “lose” his own Servant early so that he can serve as a support Mage for Gilgamesh, believing he can control both men.

What Tokiomi fails to grasp is that Kirei’s emptiness is not docility but a vacuum waiting to be filled. By placing Kirei in proximity to Gilgamesh, Tokiomi unknowingly lights the fuse on his own destruction. The alliance, built on a master-subordinate hierarchy, crumbles when Kirei’s suppressed nature surfaces under Gilgamesh’s influence. Tokiomi’s death at Kirei’s hands is not just a plot twist; it is the logical conclusion of an alliance that ignored the humanity of its members. The dynamic serves as a cautionary thread through the entire war: treating people as resources will eventually turn the resource into a threat. It also deepens the thematic weight of the series, showing that the real dangers in the Holy Grail War often arise not from rival Servants, but from the fractures within one’s own camp.

Thematic Dimensions: How Alliances Forge and Fracture Ideologies

Trust as a Weapon and a Weakness

In ‘Fate/Zero’, trust operates like a double-edged blade. Characters who extend trust—like Rider toward Waver, or Waver toward the other Masters he briefly collaborates with—often gain a tactical advantage, but they also expose themselves to devastating betrayal. The series doesn’t romanticize trust as an unalloyed good; it treats it as a calculated risk. When Kiritsugu allies with the Mage’s Association representative, Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, it is an exercise in cold-blooded manipulation, not camaraderie. Conversely, when Waver begins to trust Rider’s judgment over his own fears, that trust becomes the soil in which his courage grows. The contrast between these approaches highlights a central question: in a war where the prize is an omnipotent wish, can any alliance be more than a temporary convenience?

Betrayal, meanwhile, is so commonplace that it nearly loses its shock value. Kirei betrays Tokiomi. Kiritsugu betrays the very principles Saber holds dear. Even the Grail itself betrays those who seek it, revealing its corruption only when it is too late. These betrayals serve a narrative function greater than simple plot twists; they reinforce the idea that the Holy Grail War is a machine designed to break bonds, not create them. The few alliances that endure—or transform positively—become all the more remarkable for having survived a system built to destroy trust.

The Moral Spectrum of Heroism

The unlikely alliances in the series also dismantle any clean distinction between hero and villain. Kiritsugu commits atrocities for the sake of a peaceful world, making him a hero in logic alone. Saber clings to an honor code that history proved to be a failure, yet her conviction is undeniably noble. Kirei is a villain who grows to love his villainy, but his alliance with Gilgamesh is oddly symbiotic and almost honest in its mutual acceptance of darkness. Even Tokiomi, so easy to dismiss as an arrogant aristocrat, genuinely believes his pursuit of the Grail will advance magecraft to a new golden age.

These layered characterizations mean that every alliance forces the audience to reassess their moral judgments. Is Rider’s bond with Waver beautiful because it ends in sacrifice, or tragic because it leads a young man to witness horrors he might have avoided? Is Kirei and Gilgamesh’s partnership evil, or is it simply the most authentic relationship in the war? The series refuses easy answers, and that refusal is what gives the alliances their enduring power. They act as mirrors, reflecting the fragmented moral realities of the characters themselves.

The Transient Nature of Camaraderie

Perhaps the most poignant observation ‘Fate/Zero’ makes about its alliances is how fleeting they are. Even the strongest bonds last only until the Grail is within reach, and many dissolve in blood before that. Rider’s death, Kiritsugu’s final command to Saber, and the aftermath of the Grail’s destruction all emphasize that these partnerships are defined by their impermanence. Yet the series suggests that transience does not equal meaninglessness. Waver carries Rider’s memory for the rest of his life, evolving into the respected Lord El-Melloi II. Saber’s memory of Kiritsugu’s ruthlessness tempers her own idealism in later summonings. The alliances don’t just change the outcome of the war; they etch themselves into the souls of the survivors, proving that even temporary bonds can leave permanent marks.

The Holy Grail War is not a story where friendships flourish and enemies become allies in any sentimental way. It is a story of brief, intense collisions between incompatible souls that, in their friction, generate the sparks that illuminate the entire tragedy. This transient quality is what makes ‘Fate/Zero’ feel so emotionally resonant, even as it refuses to comfort the viewer with lasting resolutions.

The Legacy of Unlikely Bonds in Fate/Zero

When the dust settles and Fuyuki smolders, the war’s outcome feels less like a victory and more like a tally of what was lost. The Grail is gone, almost every participant is dead or broken, and the city bears scars that will last for generations. Yet the narrative does not conclude with nihilism. Instead, it points toward the ways in which the alliances—however tortured—ripple forward into the greater Fate universe. The bond between Waver and Rider inspires Waver to become a teacher, shaping the next generation of mages with a philosophy of self-discovery rather than cold ambition. The trauma of Kiritsugu’s methods leads him to adopt Shirou Emiya, setting the stage for ‘Fate/stay night’ with its own questions about heroism. Even Kirei and Gilgamesh’s partnership echoes into the next war, as the lingering corruption of the Grail and Gilgamesh’s continued presence ensure that the darkness they cultivated does not fade.

External analyses of the series often highlight these relational dynamics as key to understanding why ‘Fate/Zero’ remains a standout entry in the visual novel and anime landscape. As noted on the Type-Moon Wiki, the narrative’s intricacy stems from its character-driven conflicts rather than raw power scaling. Likewise, discussions on communities like MyAnimeList frequently point to the Waver-Rider arc as one of the most emotionally affecting mentor-student relationships in anime. Academic and fan writings have explored how the series deconstructs the very notion of a “hero,” with alliances serving as the primary vehicle for that deconstruction. The legacy of these partnerships is not just thematic—it’s instructional, showing how storytelling can use temporary allegiances to ask permanent questions about human nature.

The unlikely alliances in ‘Fate/Zero’ changed the tide of war not because they were numerous or powerful, but because they were human. They exposed contradictions, forced growth, and ultimately defined the final shape of the conflict. In a battle royale designed to isolate and destroy, the few moments of genuine connection became the most subversive force of all. That is why, even years after its airing, the series continues to be studied and debated: it proves that in the chaos of war, even the most disparate individuals can unite—and that the consequences of that unity will reverberate far beyond the battlefield.