Chapter 10: Irisviel is Lost ①

Dragging his body, which still bore traces of fatigue, Kiritsugu entered the room. He confirmed the sound of the door closing and the automatic lock engaging. On top of that, he layered a magical lock—a Simplified Bounded Field. It wasn't foolproof and could be easily breached if someone launched a serious assault, but it served its purpose: early detection of enemies and prevention of wiretapping.

In any case, a room in a business hotel was nothing more than disposable. It was unlikely that any fool would open hostilities in a place like this. Nonetheless, the possibility wasn't zero. He had precautions prepared for that eventuality, just in case.

Passing through the cramped hallway, he entered the room, which felt full just by having a bed and a simple table set. Kariya, wearing his hood, sat in a chair, and Kiritsugu took a seat across from him. The chair let out a creaking groan just from the weight of him sitting down. He expected nothing from a cheap hotel, but considering the lodging fees, it was still a poor showing.

Kiritsugu pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it without a word to his companion. He let the nicotine soak into his brain, forcing his cognitive faculties to wake up.

After taking a few drags and flicking the ash into the tray, Kariya finally speaks.

"How did it go?"

"He’ll survive. I used Suggestion on a civilian to report it to the authorities so they could handle it."

The incident had begun about an hour ago.

Since that morning, they had been moving to evacuate their base. In a castle where the Bounded Field had been shattered, staying put offered nothing but disadvantages. Originally, it was a location where even large-scale bombardment wouldn't risk being noticed by the public. They had stayed there because they could detect enemies in advance and force them through paths filled with traps. With those two advantages gone, there was no reason to remain.

The relocation of the base had been an option from the start, so the process was smooth. Ammunition and Mystic Codes were stored in various locations throughout the city. As long as they didn't move with heavy luggage, the enemy might notice the withdrawal but wouldn't be able to track them to the next base.

It was just as Kiritsugu finished the final inspection of the new base's surroundings and called Irisviel and the others that she informed him of the discovery of a blood-covered Overseer.

Kiritsugu immediately instructed her to leave the area and rushed to the scene with Kariya. Naturally, his goal wasn't treatment or rescue, but to extract information.

He brought Kariya because their prior coordination would make things smoother. Fortunately, though Kariya had lost nearly all his offensive magecraft, his body had recovered enough to move normally. He wasn’t a burden—in fact, he came with Berserker, the best possible escort.

Upon arriving at the coordinates, they found a priest enveloped in a Cognitive Interference Bounded Field. An old man, clutching his bleeding right shoulder, his face twisted in agony.

There was no room for friendship in a relationship defined solely by the Holy Grail War. That said, it was impossible for Kiritsugu not to recognize the name and face. Between the dossiers and the glimpses he'd caught through familiars, the man before him looked nothing like the person he knew—he looked like a mere, worn-out old man. The facial features were the same, but the "vitality" had been hollowed out. Even Kiritsugu barely recognized him at first.

After that, Kiritsugu had Kariya gather information on the spot and sent him back first. It was simple, as he only had to specify one of the pre-secured safe houses. Once the cleanup was finished, Kiritsugu withdrew as well.

For the record, the reason he didn't kill the Overseer was simply that the aftermath would be a hassle. Beyond cleaning up the body, he needed the Overseer's connections to maintain the Concealment of Mystery.

"Still... Kirei Kotomine, huh? Just when I thought he was staying quiet, he pulls something this troublesome."

"Hey, what kind of man is he? From what I hear, you seem to know a lot about him."

"As if I’d know a guy like that."

Kiritsugu spoke as if spitting the words out—no, he actually spat out phlegm as he said it. There was still a lingering discomfort in the back of his throat, like tar sticking to it. In short, that was the kind of existence Kirei Kotomine was.

From the beginning, Kiritsugu had felt that man was dangerous. There was no logical reason. If he had to say, it was just intuition. Or rather, paranoia. However, he couldn't shake it; the man's existence was an intolerable eyesore.

In the end, that intuition was both right and wrong. In terms of him being an eyesore, it was a bullseye. Thanks to Kirei, who had somehow acquired mechanical means of communication, Kiritsugu had lost half of his communication network. Well, it wasn't that he couldn't use it, but if he let his guard down, Kirei's voice would constantly cut in. The look Irisviel gave him because of it was an embarrassment he would carry for the rest of his life.

"Seriously? From what I saw, I wouldn’t have guessed."

"Do you have a death wish? There is no connection between that man and me, and I have no memory of doing anything to be stalked by him."

Kariya looked as if he wanted to demand every scrap of information rather than just doubting him. In response, Kiritsugu's demeanor became threatening, as if he might draw his gun at any second.

The response was a single sigh. Kiritsugu felt annoyed, but he knew he was partly at fault. He stayed silent and proceeded with the conversation.

"This case will likely be treated as an unsolved murder. Naturally so, since the man who would hide it before it’s discovered is in that state. Also, I sent a Familiar to scout the church, but as expected, I didn't find any significant information... Oh, I did find an arm that likely belonged to Tokiomi Tohsaka rolling around in the basement. It had a Magic Crest on it, so there's almost no doubt."

"I see... so he's..."

Kariya lowered his head and spoke with a groan.

(Huh. That's unexpected.)

To be blunt, Kiritsugu thought Kariya would be more pleased. At the start, Kariya's feelings toward Tokiomi were nothing short of a deep-seated grudge.

It wasn't that he lacked joy, but his reaction was focused further ahead.

This was likely thanks to his regained ability for rational thought through treatment and painkillers. Of course, factors like Sakura's safety, escaping Zouken's influence, and Tokiomi's downfall played a part. Regardless, Kiritsugu was glad Kariya hadn't reacted to his rival's death with some strange excitement.

"Anything on your end?"

"Yeah, your assistant contacted me. They’ve already reached the new base."

With that, Irisviel’s safety was secured to an extent. The new base lacked defensive mechanisms, but conversely, it would never fail to detect an enemy—especially one with malicious intent. As long as they could detect them early, Saber could repel them.

The combat power of that King of Knights was exceptional, provided she didn't let emotion interfere with her actions. Since that drinking party, she had become strangely calm, to the point where she could be trusted as a reliable asset. A weapon with inconsistent functionality cannot be called a weapon. He was grateful for the change.

In other words, there were no current anxieties. Except for one point.

"So, what do you think of this incident?"

"I can only say there’s not enough information. I don't have any contact with... Kirei Kotomine, was it? His actions are inconsistent. He looks like nothing more than a serial killer or a religious fanatic."

"He’s not just some lunatic. A person like that couldn't become an Executor."

Kiritsugu gently didn't deny the part about him being a lunatic.

With a rustle, papers piled beside the table were spread out. They contained everything from legible words to things that looked like mere symbols, written in every available space.

Kiritsugu looked down at the paper placed directly in front of him. There were several notes in a language he understood: "Depletion of Assassin," "Betrayal of the Overseer?", "Interruption of stalking?", "Usurpation of Command Spells."

"There's no doubt he attacked to get the Command Spells. They’re father and son; a surprise attack would have been easy."

"That’s true," Kiritsugu agreed with a nod.

To put it bluntly, the Overseer had no value other than the surplus Command Spells. The fact that he took the right arm proved that. However, the problem was how he intended to use them.

The Servant he had summoned, Assassin, was extremely useful. Not powerful, but useful. What made them so was their spirit to work faithfully even for dirty jobs, their Presence Concealment skill, and their ability to use the "violence of numbers." The advantage of always having numerical superiority through division was their greatest strength. Conversely, if that advantage was lost, they became nothing more than a "convenient" existence. Their extremely flat mentality was certainly appreciated, but that was based on the premise that they could at least counter a "cannon." If the choice was between a convenient knife or a difficult-to-handle cannon, the cannon was the obvious choice.

In terms of utilizing numbers, Rider was similar. However, that was limited to specific spaces and dense crowds, lacking versatility. In practice, Rider's power was handled like a burst-type Noble Phantasm.

The closest type was likely Archer. If one could pull out tools and utilize them well, as he did, anything was possible. He likely possessed many items that a Master could use as well. In terms of ability alone, his compatibility with Kiritsugu would have been the best.

If being multiple entities was Assassin's greatest strength, what point was there in removing that advantage? The ability of a single divided Assassin was Rank E-. No matter how many Command Spells were invested, their specs were no longer capable of taking down a Servant. Having been depleted that much, there couldn't be many left. What was the point of obtaining Command Spells now?

However, that was only the case if he intended to use them himself. If he brought them to someone who could utilize them, the story changed.

"Kirei Kotomine's destination is almost certainly with Archer and his group."

Kiritsugu spoke with conviction, but Kariya's reaction was slow. He remained deep in thought, hand over his mouth.

"Since he hasn't come here, there’s nowhere else. Do you think he'd side with a third-rate Master and a berserk Servant?"

"No, that’s not it... it’s not that, but it just doesn't feel right."

Kariya stared at the documents, buried in his world of thought.

Kiritsugu reached for a cigarette in the ashtray. Upon touching it, he realized it had burned down to the filter. He flicked the butt into the ashtray with his fingertip. Then, he took out a fresh cigarette and slowly let the smoke fill his lungs.

Profiling. The ability to see the whole picture from limited information, rather than organizing a large amount of data. According to him, this kind of skill was necessary for a freelance reporter to get to the bottom of an incident. Even without considering that, Kiritsugu thought it was an impressive ability.

Kariya picked up a piece of paper and flipped it over. Confirming that it was also covered in writing, he tossed it aside and picked up the next one. After repeating this a few times, he found a blank sheet and began sliding his favorite fountain pen across it. On the left, he wrote Assassin and Tokiomi; on the right, Overseer and Command Spells, then drew a line down the middle.

"I think these two are separate. Kirei Kotomine's actions—or rather, his will—is probably only on the right side. And something on the left side caused him to start acting that way."

"If that's the case, then who did the left side?"

"...I don't know. But I just can't see a connection between Kirei Kotomine and the actions on the left side."

Kiritsugu couldn't accept it, but he understood what Kariya was trying to say. If Kirei Kotomine had planned it, he should have been able to carry it out more cleanly.

First, there was no reason to deplete Assassin to assassinate Tokiomi. Judging by the situation, there was likely some connection between Tokiomi and Assassin—such that if Tokiomi were harmed, the Servant would move to protect him. However, there was one person who could bypass that: Kirei. As their original Master, he should have been able to finish the assassination by preventing Assassin’s intervention.

In that case, was the depletion a demonstration? Using up Assassin to prove he had no more cards left. Then, obtaining Command Spells to infiltrate another faction. But there was no guarantee he’d be trusted, and if someone just stole the Command Spells from him, there’d be no reason to listen to him. Besides, it wasn't worth losing a Servant over.

If a third party other than Kirei was the perpetrator, then the logic of disposing of Assassin held up. But if that were the case, the question became "who?" and how Kirei was influenced by that person to cause this situation.

For example:

"Someone smartly disposed of an elite magus like Tokiomi Tohsaka without leaving a trace, and then charmed and placed Kirei Kotomine under their control?"

That would be impossible without a significant surprise attack—like a trusted ally suddenly betraying him.

As Kiritsugu spoke his delusion aloud, he couldn't help but chuckle. It was utterly nonsensical and absurd. If it were an indie film shown in a third-rate theater, it might have been considered decent.

"What if parts of that were reversed?"

"Reversed? In what way?"

"Tokiomi was killed by Suspect A. And Kirei Kotomine probably made contact with them. But from there, Kirei Kotomine started taking the lead. Whether Suspect A noticed or not, he’s moving while ignoring their intentions."

"...Do you have proof?"

"When I heard the Overseer's words, most of them were meaningless. Likely due to the pain and blood loss. But among them were words like 'God' or 'the Truth.' That was when I asked about Kirei Kotomine. I just can't believe those are unrelated. At the very least, right now, Kirei Kotomine is likely moving for his own sake."

Now, it was Kiritsugu's turn to worry. Indeed, if Kirei wasn't under someone's control but had entered a mutually exploitative relationship—and if his previously vague and random will, directed toward Kiritsugu, had been unified and begun running toward something—then the inconsistent reasons for each action made sense.

Kirei seriously starting to move was terrifyingly dangerous. At least for Kiritsugu, far more so than some unseen individual lurking in the shadows.

But... It's no good, he shook his head. Whatever came next, the option of not moving was no longer available.

The reason for leaving the dying Overseer was simple: to let one of the allied camps find him and go after the other. Whether he actually handed over the Command Spells or not, his reasoning was the same in the sense that once it happened, it would be too late.

How Tokiomi was finished off remained a mystery. If anything, the difficulty level had increased.

And Kariya's analysis was not a sufficient reason to stop him.

"No good. We can’t risk handing a massive number of Command Spells to an already untouchable Archer. At the very least, if we don’t take down Lancer now, our chances of ‘winning’ end here. That’s the situation we’re stuck with."

At those words, Kariya lowered his face in frustration. Was it because it went against his own analysis, or because it meant opposing Archer?

"Are you quitting?"

Kiritsugu thought about smoking another cigarette. He reached for the soft pack but stopped and pulled his hand back. If his hands were occupied, he couldn't hold a gun.

In the worst-case scenario, he would kill Kariya and take his Command Spells. That was the purpose.

"No... it can't be helped. Even if Archer is, in some twisted way, protecting Sakura, that’s only during the Holy Grail War. Either way, we need to defeat him and secure her protection. This just moves the timeline up."

"I see. Well then, let's go."

This time, he did put a cigarette between his fingers. The sensation, which was not a trigger, felt very soft and light.

After contacting Irisviel and the others about the decision to attack, the two left the room. At that moment, he also deactivated the Bounded Field. He would never use this place again.

Walking down the same desolate corridor as the room, Kiritsugu stared straight ahead. Far beyond the path, towards some unseen horizon.

An obstacle had appeared in his path to the Grail. The unforeseen circumstances had grown far beyond his expectations. But he was still fine. Nothing was over yet.

He would obtain it, and offer it to the world. A world where no one suffers. For that sake, he would surely seize it.

The pure and perfect miracle—the Holy Grail.

---

The sun had set only moments ago. The city still signaled the hours of human activity with its artificial lights, yet it was almost entirely devoid of vitality.

It was because of the serial killings that had occurred a while back. Although the news of the culprit's arrest had already been broadcast, the residents still feared the darkness and could not bring themselves to leave the "miniature gardens" they called home. It was expected, but human society is a fragile thing. No matter how peaceful the daily life, it is lost in an instant upon the appearance of a usurper. And—sadly enough—this is a cycle that has repeated itself countless times from ancient times to the present.

A winter eddy, too early to be called the night wind, brushed against Saber. The reason she couldn't call it pleasant was the awareness of what she was about to do.

No matter how reluctant she felt, the option to back out no longer existed. Not for the Holy Grail War, and not as a King.

Her arms hung loose, and next, she felt the familiar, heavy sensation of her sword. Holding it once more, she realized just how heavy it truly was. It was only natural. After all, that shining sword carried the very hopes and dreams of the nation known as Britain.

At some point... she had grown too used to wielding the sword, to fighting wars, and to being a King. She had become dull, swinging it as if it were a mere blade.

She must remember. The fate of her homeland rested on that blade.

"Saber, are you alright?"

"Yes, there is no problem."

A worried voice called out to Saber’s back as she concentrated.

Turning around, she met Irisviel’s eyes. There, she saw a fleeting, fragile expression.

"Perhaps I should be the one to tell Kiritsugu..."

"No, Irisviel. I was the one who was wrong."

Irisviel looked puzzled. Her wide-eyed, innocent look was like that of a young girl; Saber recalled that Irisviel had not experienced as much of life as her outward appearance suggested. To reassure her, Saber offered a gentle yet firm smile.

"I have a goal I must fulfill, and so does Kiritsugu. However, I forgot that I was carrying his wishes as well and fought only for the sake of my own pride. While abandoning the effort to make myself trusted, I selfishly believed that I was already trusted. What Archer said at the banquet was entirely correct."

She caressed the Holy Sword enveloped in Invisible Air (the Bound Field of the Wind King), confirming its presence.

"I believe it wouldn't have been strange if Excalibur had snapped at any moment. But this sword is still within my hands. If so... then this time, I shall fight solely for the sake of victory."

She swore it upon the name of that sword.

"So, I am fine. Do not worry; I will no longer hesitate."

She swung the sword she had been holding once to clear the air, then held it hanging from one hand again.

To be honest, it wasn't that she had no feelings about the methods they were using. It was simply that she had remembered something more important than her qualms. And that was what mattered most.

"I see... then, I won't say anything more. Just, one thing..."

The unease was shaken off, and her usual lively expression returned. A full, characteristic smile and a spirited air. With that, she shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Go and win, Saber!"

"Yes...! I swear to you and Kiritsugu that I shall surely bring back victory."

The road ahead would not be easy. It was because she knew this that she made her vow.

Saber turned back and placed a hand on a guardrail. They were at the summit of a gentle hill in the outskirts. It wasn't high enough to say they were "looking down" on everything, but the view stretched quite far. For observing the city, it was an excellent spot, aside from the poor public transport. Most importantly, the base of the Lancer camp was visible from here.

Just outside the territory of the new Lancer's Master's base, a shadow was searching for a less-trafficked spot, as if looking for something. 

Saber’s vision barely managed to identify it as Lancer. She didn't know why he was manifested and wearing modern clothes, though.

"Are preparations ready on your end?"

"Kariya, is it? Yes, I am ready anytime."

Kariya Matou and Maiya Hisau stepped out of the car.

The plan this time was a high-speed assault on Lancer by Saber and Berserker.

The Servant known as Lancer... or rather, the Heroic Spirit Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, had a fatal weakness. That was the fact that his combat abilities were almost exclusively suited for one-on-one duels. Gae Dearg (the Crimson Rose of Exorcism) used its properties to block or break through many abilities, while Gae Buidhe (the Yellow Rose of Mortality) inflicted unhealable wounds to slowly corner the enemy. That was his basic strategy. However, this also meant he lacked explosive power. In this Holy Grail War, many Servants possessed high firepower. Among them, Lancer was the one most lacking in that department.

Having explosive power meant being able to end a fight quickly. An Anti-Army rank Noble Phantasm or higher also serves as an effective means against multiple attackers. While Lancer's high combat endurance, stability, and the ability of his Noble Phantasms to fight advantageously against many enemies are certainly strengths, it also means he has few "trump cards" to turn the tide once pushed into a disadvantageous position.

Berserker had also prepared a weapon for this occasion. While a Noble Phantasm was impossible, it was a powerful Conceptual Weapon focused on durability. With it, he wouldn't be cut down instantly by Gae Dearg. Though, as expected, it was impossible to cut a Servant with just a raw weapon.

"Where is Kiritsugu?"

"I received word that he is in position. Though, he likely won't have a turn."

Kariya, his face hidden by a hood, looked out at the dark street lit only by lamps. Kiritsugu was lurking somewhere out there.

Ideally, he was there to take out the enemy Master should they show themselves after Lancer was attacked. However, Kariya judged it unlikely they would appear.

The enemy Master likely suspected Kiritsugu had a dangerous trump card. At the very least, Archer would have advised them so. This was the result of Kariya's profiling. Even with provocation, the chances of the Master coming out were fifty-fifty. Because of those odds, Maiya remained here as Irisviel’s bodyguard.

Incidentally, methods like bombing were impossible due to the poor location. A frontal assault was too risky for a Magus of high rank.

"Then—let’s go."

With those words, Saber became a bullet. The grass was blown away by the wind pressure alone, and the ground dented from her initial step.

Slightly behind her, she felt the presence of Berserker following. Saber was not exactly subtle, but he was even more violent, churning up the earth and leaving a trail of dirt like a graveyard in his wake.

Even a distance of several kilometers takes less than a minute when a Servant runs at full speed. Lancer’s silhouette grew larger by the second, and at a distance of a few hundred meters, he suddenly whirled around to face Saber.

(As expected, a surprise attack won't work.)

Servants can sense each other's presence. The only exception is Assassin with the Presence Concealment skill. Therefore, this result was natural. Saber gave a bitter smile, a mix of disappointment and gratitude, though she didn't show it. Whether noticed or not, she felt both glad and regretful. She marveled at her own contradictory nature.

She put more strength into the hand holding her sword, bracing it over her shoulder. Though she couldn't see him, Berserker was likely in a similar stance.

Lancer readied his spears in both hands.

It was too late to catch him off guard, but it was too late for him to mount a perfect defense either.

Saber poured all her Magical Energy into her sword and struck with her entire body weight. She saw the crimson spear (Gae Dearg) bend significantly as Lancer tried to kill the momentum.

However, Saber used her grounded foot to lunge further, riding the momentum. Against this second stage of acceleration and double impact, even Lancer couldn't withstand it. His body was blown far back, and he used his knee to break his fall. That he managed to keep his eyes on Saber despite such an impact was impressive.

Saber’s posture was bound to break after such reckless acceleration; she tumbled forward, passing Lancer. Normally, she would have taken a strike to her wide-open back. But this time, there was no need for concern.

A follow-up black storm arrived. A blow that was violent yet incredibly precise, shrouded in dark mist, was unleashed to pulverize everything it touched. Lancer, still on one knee and unable to recover his stance, could not destroy the weapon even with his spears. He crossed his two spears into an X-shape, trying to take the impact as best he could. But to any onlooker, it was reckless. Berserker’s strike was a pure, full-power blow. In contrast, Lancer’s defense was a desperate, awkward struggle from a poor position. It was obvious which would prevail.

Once again, Lancer was blown away. His trajectory led him straight back toward Saber, who had already run past and turned around.

For a Servant bearing the title of the "Best" class, a fraction of a second was enough to recover her stance. Moreover, with the time Berserker bought by blowing the enemy back, Saber had more than enough time to flood her very toes with strength.

She stepped in so hard the ground seemed ready to shatter, transferring the flow of power to her sword without a single drop of waste. A reaper's scythe, swung straight down from the zenith, specialized in crushing life. A strike so powerful it seemed to twist space itself.

Yet, even against that, Lancer managed to respond. Using his left foot as an emergency brake, he forced his body—which was flying toward Saber—to stop. He defended his left shoulder with the spear in his right hand and leapt in the opposite direction the moment the slash was unleashed.

Impressive—Saber couldn't help but feel admiration. She felt a heavy sensation in her hands, but compared to a clean hit, it was far too light. Lancer had let the sword slide off the spear and used the momentum to kick off the ground and gain distance. The spear was pulled back, and a small amount of blood trickled from his forehead. But that was all. It was a triple-hit combo that could have killed a Servant with Lancer's durability in one go. Having taken it, he still stood composed.

She knew he wouldn't be an easy foe. Then again, there were no easy foes in the Holy Grail War. Confirming this, she took her stance. Lancer readjusted his spears, his eyes darting left and right, unable to move.

"Lancer, I must first apologize to you."

Despite being flanked, his stance showed no openings. Indeed, this wouldn’t be easy. Berserker also raised his sword but remained motionless.

"I do not expect you to forgive me. However, I must prioritize the Holy Grail above all else. It pains me that we cannot reach a fair conclusion... but you will be eliminated here."

At Saber's declaration, Lancer let out a large sigh, without lowering his guard or showing any opening. It almost looked like a regretful sigh.

"Seriously—"

Saber frowned as Lancer spoke for the first time. Something was wrong. She didn't know what, but something was definitely off.

Without knowing why, she slowly closed the distance. The plan was to settle this before reinforcements arrived. There was no time to hesitate over a slight sense of unease.

However—

"I thought I'd bait someone out, but I didn't expect it to be you two."

This time, the unease could not be ignored. That voice, that tone—it didn't belong to Lancer at all.

Lancer’s form crumbled away into light.

"...Impossible."

Starting from the top, he vanished, and something else emerged from within. The handsome man with a calm atmosphere was replaced by someone entirely different.

His hair and armor were golden. He was an existence composed of brilliance. Even the spears he held melted into light and were replaced by two swords. A Golden King and perfection, yet with a few non-golden components: the blood flowing from his forehead and the crimson of his eyes. His piercing gaze met Saber's.

Standing there was not the Servant of the Spear, Lancer, but the Servant of the Bow, Archer.

"Do you have time to stand there looking dazed?"

She focused her consciousness at his words. The enemy was an unexpected and worst-case opponent. However, she couldn't retreat now. If it came to this, she had to consider taking him down here.

However, as if mocking her state, Archer curled his lips into a smirk.

"The direction you came from is obvious. And I am here alone. Since Berserker is here, you can't be too far from your Master."

"Don't tell me!!"

At his words, she anticipated the worst-case scenario. And she instantly realized that was the very mistake.

"I see. So they are just up ahead."

"Kuuh!"

The shock of her gritting teeth echoed in her brain like a stimulant. This was bad. A definite failure. Even if everyone else up there was taken out, Saber would remain as long as her Master existed. But in that case, they would be practically cornered.

What do I do? Her thoughts raced at high speed. She couldn't use Excalibur yet. Moreover, Archer excelled at fighting multiple opponents. It was nearly impossible to take him down in a quick strike. No, even before that, if he opened up the distance, it would become a one-sided slaughter.

Even in the worst, most desperate situation, there had to be a "best move" somewhere. She continued to search for it, when—

"I won't stop you if you want to leave."

"What?"

"I am saying I won't stop you from going to intercept Lancer, who is heading that way right now."

There was no need to ask why. For Archer, it would be better to stay here and definitely eliminate Berserker; that was all. However, his best move was simultaneously Saber's best move.

If Saber rushed back now and stopped Lancer, the situation would return to a stalemate. Furthermore, if she was stuck on the defensive, Saber wouldn't be very useful. In terms of compatibility, Berserker was a better match for Archer’s abilities.

She hated feeling like she was being danced in the palm of his hand. But it was a fact that she had no other choice.

While keeping a wary eye on Archer, she sprinted past him. Once through, she ran back the way she came with all her might, without looking back, praying for Irisviel’s safety.

---

Saber shrinks to the size of a bean in an instant. Watching her back as she leaves, I let out a deep breath. I wondered how much this ambush had shortened my lifespan.

If such a reckless blitz was unexpected, the fact that it was carried out by Saber and Berserker was equally surprising. Considering Berserker’s true identity, you'd expect him to attack Saber first; a cooperation shouldn't have been possible.

No, the bigger problem was Saber. It was unthinkable for the Saber of Fate/Zero to allow a two-on-one fight. Or rather, she should have detested surprise attacks. In reality, she not only tolerated it but even demonstrated improvised teamwork, without showing any signs of mental weakness. No matter how you looked at it, that was Stay Night Saber. If she’s on par with Rin’s Saber as a Master... I didn't feel like fighting that. If she gets her hands on Avalon, she’d truly be the final boss. All I can do is pray that Lancer can hold her off while I deal with Berserker.

I returned the sword in my left hand to the Vault (Gate of Babylon) and wiped the blood from my forehead. The sword in my right hand remained pointed at Berserker, of course.

Originally, this was a plan to hook some unknown person who hadn't stepped onto the stage yet. For a normal human, which Servant would be the easiest to deal with? It would likely be Rider or Lancer. The reason is simple: their stats are unbalanced.

First, I am out of the question. Due to the Archer class, it’s impossible to approach me undetected. Even if I am noticed, my long-range attacks make it impossible to get close. On top of that, I possess an infinite number of Noble Phantasms and high adaptability. Furthermore, though no one knows it, the support from my treasury allows me to boost my stats, make displayed ranks meaningless. Even without that, my overall parameters average at B.

The next ones who are impossible are Saber and Berserker. Their Strength, Endurance, and Agility required for normal combat are almost all at Rank A. At this point, there's nothing a human can do. Furthermore, Saber has a variety of combat skills. Particularly, her Magic Resistance is Rank A, making her a "Magus Killer." Berserker also has Knight of Owner (A Knight Does Not Die with Empty Hands), which allows him to exert power in both offense and defense. Still, he might be easier to deal with simply because he lacks reason. In Berserker’s case, one could target the Master, but there's no way Kiritsugu wouldn't take countermeasures for that. He’d likely have some kind of counter ready.

That leaves Rider and Lancer. In Rider's case, while his Endurance is high, his Agility is the lowest among all Servants. If he has not yet deployed his chariot, there are still ways to deal with him. One could also target his Master, or provoke him into wasting his Noble Phantasm. He is a powerful Servant, but the lack of flexibility in his Noble Phantasm is a flaw. Lancer, conversely, has low Endurance, making it easy to land attacks. He has a high Magic Resistance of Rank B, but a first-rate Magus could still find a way. Also, because he lacks a burst-type Noble Phantasm, overwhelming him with sheer numbers is an exceptionally effective strategy against him.

Of course, neither is an easy opponent. But compared to other Servants, there is still hope for a strategy. Besides, a magus currently without a Servant—or at best, only an Assassin whose presence has thinned—must have thought of at least one method. If I were unlucky, Lancer might have been eliminated somewhere I didn't know.

So, what should I do? The answer was simple. I would pretend to be Lancer and act as a decoy.

First, I used the power of a Noble Phantasm to overlay Lancer’s appearance onto mine. At the same time, I reinforced all my parameters to be close to Rank A+. With this, I wouldn't be taken out instantly even if attacked. Especially if the opponent attacked thinking I was Lancer, this stats difference would be painful for them.

While continuing my normal scouting, I walked just outside Kayneth’s territory. Meanwhile, the real Lancer had taken spirit form near the headquarters and was constantly monitoring me, acting as a guerrilla soldier capable of immediate response.

If Rider were attacked, he might escape into the sky. Compared to that, I thought they would target me even if it looked like a trap.

It turns out I hooked a different catch.

"■■■■■■■■■■!!"

"Kuh... Damn it!"

I somehow managed to parry a blow that looked like pure brute force but is actually terrifyingly precise.

I didn't do this through conscious thought. If I had spent time thinking, I’d have been sliced in two. This was my body reacting automatically the moment I saw it.

Is it experience, or is it a technique ingrained in my body? I, who am not the original Gilgamesh, don't know. All I know is that because of it, I am still alive.

I stopped overthinking. I leave everything to my body's reactions. What looked like a mere storm of slashes were actually sword paths aimed precisely at my vitals. No matter how much I might win in strength, the opponent has more than enough technique to compensate for that gap.

A sharp thrust came at me. I couldn't parry it with my sword alone, so I let it hit my armor to deflect it. A grating sound vibrated through my ribs. As I pulled my sword back, a fluid horizontal sweep followed. I parried this with the flat of my blade too, but I couldn't divert the next downward cleave. Our swords clashed violently, the impact sinking my feet into the ground. Even though I was supposed to be stronger, it didn't feel that way at all.

"Hrah! Fuck off!!”

"■■■■■■■!"

From a blade lock, I delivered a full-body shove. Naturally, I didn't expect to deal damage, but I gained a precious ten meters of distance.

We both take our stances. I couldn't go on the offensive, and Berserker is also observing. This distance seemed to favor me, but in reality, it wasn't so. For a Servant, even this ten-meter gap was just a single step and a swing away. With just one stride, the exchange of blades would begin again.

I felt the urge to fire a Noble Phantasm, but I managed to restrain myself. The situation was different from the last time I faced Berserker. Now he held a weapon and was properly braced. If he had intended to fight Lancer, that sword was likely reinforced against Gae Dearg. I couldn't expect to break the weapon, and the distance was too short to fire a mass of small weapons. If I chose a powerful weapon, I would only be increasing the enemy’s arsenal (via Knight of Owner).

If I kept fighting like this, I probably wouldn't lose easily. But even if I won, it would take time.

It would be easier if he’d just rely on Arondight... but looking at the situation, I couldn't expect that at all.

Even without sanity, Berserker hadn't lost his instincts. If he had, he’d have already charged to close the gap. He was waiting for an opening because he sensed danger.

"...Looks like this is going to take a while."

I wanted to open the distance, and Berserker wanted to close it. As we shifted slowly, the distance fluctuated slightly, but the "one-step range" remained unchanged.

I see; this is indeed the ultimate move for defeating a Servant. Acknowledging that, I kept Berserker in check.

Thinking about it, there are still five or six Servants left. It’s far easier and more efficient to let them devour each other than to kill them yourself. The question was how Kiritsugu, the commander of the Saber camp, had been moved. That wasn't something I could find an answer for by thinking here, nor did I have the luxury to do so.

The unseen enemy was far more cunning than I thought. They were one step ahead in everything, and I was on the defensive, despite having the advantage in both Servants and information.

However, the match wasn't decided yet. Both Kayneth and Sakura had noticed the start of the battle. Kayneth wouldn't come forward; he would hurry with the analysis of the Grail and the construction of his magecraft formulas. I had told Sakura to activate the "second insurance" if something happened. She’d likely judge this as "something."

I believed that would be enough. But insurance is just insurance. It’s dangerous to rely on it too much.

As I thought, I have no choice but to speed up the conclusion myself. I took a deep breath and steeled my resolve. Or rather, I gave up on caution.

I checked the sword through my gauntlet. It was an unfamiliar sensation, and for a powerful Noble Phantasm, it felt terribly unreliable. Even so, if I were to stop Berserker’s blade, I had to rely on such a thing.

The two of us moved almost simultaneously. But in opposite directions. I leapt back with all my might, while Berserker charged forward.

It was a desperate move. If the timing had been off, he would have adjusted the distance and brought me into his ideal range. But—I managed to pull it off.

"Blow away!"

While keeping my sword readied just in case, I roared with all my strength.

The space behind me rippled as if warping. The proof that this world and "somewhere else" were connected. The winning move against Berserker that I had shown before. A method of robbing him of the luxury to respond by firing countless small offensive Noble Phantasms. Unlike before, even if I had a weapon in hand and a fair bit of distance, he shouldn't be able to handle it. Simply put, he didn't have enough hands.

But Berserker's action was completely unexpected.

He deeply thrust his sword into the ground and flipped it up as if to dig, creating a wall of earth about two meters high. The width wasn't small either. For example, enough for Berserker to use as a shield.

There's no way that alone can defend against my attack. Knight of Owner reinforces even a mere steel beam to the point where it can clash with a Noble Phantasm. It's truly an irregular Noble Phantasm. But even so, a mere wall of dirt shouldn't be able to withstand a barrage of Noble Phantasms. It would only function for an instant.

But for Berserker, that instant was enough. He touched the earthen shield with his right hand, turning it into a Noble Phantasm. Then, with the sword in his left hand, he began to parry the swarm of incoming Noble Phantasms.

"What the!"

The earthen wall lasted only for a moment. Struck by several Noble Phantasms, it collapsed immediately. But the time it bought was enough for Berserker to create an opening for himself to slip through the rain of Noble Phantasms.

With only his left side forward, his armor being scraped by falling weapons, he slipped through perfectly and lunged with his sword like a fencer.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

Simply put, a thrust is difficult to parry. More than a matter of speed, it’s because the contact surface is so small. It’s a harsh truth, but with a slash, you can put your sword out roughly and still make contact, regardless of whether you can kill the momentum. But if you try the same with a thrust, you’re guaranteed to get skewered.

A strike aimed unerringly at my brain through my eye socket. My frantically swung sword let out a high-pitched clang as it diverted the tip that filled my vision. Along with the sensation of something piercing my cheek came the unpleasant sound of bone being scraped. But considering I had saved my life, it was nothing. Without the luxury of watching the splattering blood, I steeled my body. Berserker’s entire form was closing in.

The shoulder of the approaching black armor clashed with the golden gauntlet I had used as a shield in front of my chest. I, who had been concentrated on the unexpected attack, had no way to withstand it. Without any real resistance, I was blown away. Even so, it was fine—better than the worst-case scenario of losing to the tackle and rolling on the ground.

I dropped to my left knee. I had been so desperate to defend that I had no room to fire more Noble Phantasms.

Berserker, rotating his body from the charge, raised his sword. It was swung down with full force toward me in my low posture.

In front of my eyes, sparks flew violently. A horribly absurd scream of steel, like metal being twisted apart, which shouldn't normally happen. Added to that, an archaic weapon like a sword was trying to take my life. If I had lost my sense of reality, it might have been easier. Unfortunately, my mind recognized it as a real threat and forced me to resist.

A standing posture versus a half-collapsed stance. Normally, a contest of strength shouldn't even be possible. In fact, I felt like I was about to be crushed.

“HHHHHAAAAAAAA!”

A roar I didn't even recognize leaked from my mouth. Was it a scream, a battle cry, or just temporary madness? Regardless, I shouted with all my might.

I didn't think there was much meaning in the act itself. However, the strength that momentarily doubled managed to push Berserker back and make him retreat a few steps. Watching the staggering Berserker, I also staggered back as far as I could.

The distance between us was about seven meters. Berserker had the overwhelming advantage. But even so, there was at least enough leeway to steady my breathing and spirit.

"Don't mess with me, mongrel. How are you a 'Berserker'..."

I cursed instinctively. That was how troublesome Berserker was.

Despite having lost his sanity, he fought with extreme cleverness on a combat level. If only he would fight with mere brute force or rely solely on his skills. Moreover, this bastard is even stronger and faster than in the original story. No matter how you look at it, he’s basically a "Saber" with higher stats. This is truly a "Class Fraud."

No, that's not it. The biggest problem was the broken performance of the Noble Phantasm called Knight of Owner. Turning anything he touched into a Noble Phantasm so it could work against Servants was one thing. But making something that would normally be easily severed as strong as a Noble Phantasm is just cheating. It's too powerful for something derived only from the legend of defeating an enemy with an elm branch. I mean, if that's all it takes to make something a Noble Phantasm, then Japan and China would have mountains of Heroic Spirits with similar Noble Phantasms.

On top of that, Knight of Owner can even operate tools the user doesn't know how to handle. Even without the Riding skill, he had piloted a fighter jet perfectly. Whether he knows how to use it or not, it’s effectively a Noble Phantasm that lets him master any tool. Ionioi Hetairoi (Army of the King) is also a ridiculous ability that summons multiple independent Servants, but Knight of Owner is no less impressive. It exceeds its original function far too much. No, in the sense that it grows stronger as science develops, it’s a top-tier threat.

While Lancer isn't even allowed the sword that is his own property (Moralltach and Beagalltach), and Saber is denied Avalon and Caliburn... he was definitely being favored too much. Well, I’m not one to talk.

In any case, a Berserker equipped with technique, judgment, and a matching Noble Phantasm is far too dangerous. I realized once again that I was lucky to have blown him away instantly back at the Worm Pit. I’m starting to think Kariya is actually quite lucky—he managed to summoned a Servant who, Just by the issues of distance and weaponry, could Pin down Gilgamesh.

As expected, I really should have attacked the moment someone approached at high speed. The hesitation from the surprise that the enemy was a Servant, and the need to buy time for the bait. Thanks to those two factors, I was in this mess.

An enemy with the worst compatibility is facing me at the worst distance with the worst Noble Phantasm. If only one of those factors were missing.

Even if I temporarily deactivated the Knight of Owner, it wouldn't mean much if he had a Conceptual Weapons with terrifying hardness. As for gaining distance, I’d been struggling with that for a while because I couldn't.

Is this really my only option? I could feel cold sweat breaking out all over my body. It was less of a strategy and more of a gamble, and therefore terrifyingly dangerous. The kind of thing I would absolutely never do if it wasn't necessary. Conversely, that meant if it was necessary, I had to do it.

Is it really necessary to go that far? A weak thought surfaced, but I immediately dismissed it. Saber’s face came to mind.

If she were mentally weak and obsessed with a duel, I could have safely left her to Lancer. But the current Saber, who prioritizes victory and can stomach both "pure and corrupt" methods, was extremely dangerous to leave alone. And currently, Saber's primary goal is likely not to defeat Lancer, but to destroy the yellow spear (Gae Buidhe). In the worst-case scenario, she might even have Avalon.

The balance that was overwhelmingly in our favor would be reset to fifty-fifty in an instant.

I don't want to die yet. I want to live. And now I have a reason I can't die.

I have to do it. Not desperately this time, but with a clear will.

I released one hand from the sword I held with both. The tip of Berserker’s sword wavered as if in confusion. Ignoring it, I raised my hand. I pulled out the hilt that appeared behind me in one motion.

Its blade was about as long as a typical one-handed sword. With a Servant’s strength, its weight was as good as nothing. I readied the longsword in my right hand and the one-handed sword in my left. Naturally, since I have no experience with dual-wielding, my stance is nothing more than an improvisation, allowing me to respond to any situation immediately.

And then—for the first time in this battle, I went on the offensive. As I stepped forward with all my might, I unleashed the sword I had been holding back on my left, timed with my right foot's landing.

Is the advantage of being a Berserker active even in moments like this? He didn't show the slightest agitation at the offensive that looked like a desperate gamble from the disadvantaged side.

A strike delivered with his full weight. But perhaps because it was, in the end, a one-handed blow, it was easily parried by his sword held firmly with both hands. However, with that one strike, the black mist clinging to Berserker’s sword vanished in an instant. For the first time, the Mad Dog made his armor creak as if showing agitation.

This sword in my left hand was an "Anti-Magical Construct Weapon," just like Gae Dearg. As long as it touched his weapon, his sword would not become a Noble Phantasm. And then, the sword in my right hand. I twisted my arm and slammed the blade I had been shouldering into his sword.

Berserker’s second agitation. My longsword had definitely bitten into his blade, even if only slightly.

Berserker pushed back and broke the engagement of the three swords. This time, it was his turn to retreat. His sword, which shouldn't have been damaged, showed visible wear. He leveled it, showing maximum caution.

The Noble Phantasm I held in my right hand was a sword with the concept of "cutting very well." No matter how robustly something was made, there was no way this sword couldn't cut it. In fact, I don't know how excellent the sword Berserker held was, but I managed to damage it like this. Once combined with the left "Exorcism Sword" to cancel out the modified of Knight of Owner, it was an inevitable result.

I had planned for an opponent who knew of Lancer's Noble Phantasm and would use underhanded tricks, aiming for a mismatch. It backfired completely.

Maybe I wouldn't have struggled so much if I had held the Exorcism Sword from the start. But then again, once I allowed him to get this close, a hard fight was inevitable either way.

And from here, it gets even more painful.

I felt my right foot bite into the ground. Leaving it to that sensation, I pushed my body forward. The distance that had been opened became zero in an instant... and the reason that timing was faster than expected was that Berserker had also lunged forward at the same time. Before I could swing my sword, a black flash aimed for my right flank. I gave up on swinging and used the left sword to protect my side.

A powerful shock surged through my body. This wasn't "defense" so much as just barely preventing myself from being cut. A strength that was exceptional even among Servants was being transmitted through my body.

If that had been unexpected, I wouldn't have been able to move. But if I expected it... I could at least strike with my sword before I started writhing.

Our blades made contact for only an instant. That was because I was knocked back, body and all, by Berserker as he put more strength into his strike.

I immediately readied my sword again and—though I don't know if it was necessary—steadied my breathing. My arms could still move, and my legs could still walk. The impact was incredible, but the damage didn't seem too great. It was just proven that even without a moment's pause, I could still move as long as I operated on the premise of taking a hit.

A small piece of metal falls from Berserker's sword. It's nothing major. At most, a chip in the blade that doesn't affect combat. However, the second instance of damage determined our respective positions.

"You understand, don't you, Mad Dog?"

Those words likely wouldn't be understood. I knew that, yet my mouth moved on its own.

"It won't take much longer for that sword to break. I won't 'fire' any more swords or weapons at you. And then..."

I deactivated the Noble Phantasm reinforcement I had allocated to Agility and concentrated it on Strength. As a result, my Agility rank reverted to B, but I gained significantly greater physical power. With this, I wouldn't lose in a contest of strength.

I tucked both swords firmly at my sides. There was no longer any stance. It was simply for the sake of striking with all my might.

"It's only a matter of time!"

I put all the courage I had into that declaration. For this moment only, I suppressed all my fear and forced myself to forget it. I had to believe I was a true warrior.

As Berserker retreated, his hand moved behind him. And then, he leveled a black, shining cylinder I hadn't seen before. In a sense, it was the most terrifying symbol of death for a modern person: a gun.

My body almost froze. But I blew that away with either spirit or willpower. I launched a charge at Berserker that could only be described as reckless. If I retreated here, he’d follow up with his sword. That meant I had to stay on the offensive. If I went on the defensive, the chance to destroy his sword would slip away. I absolutely couldn't let that happen.

The weapon he held was a shotgun. Since I’m not a gun expert, I couldn't tell you exactly what model it was. However, if it had a drum magazine, it wasn't a joke; it could rain down a storm of bullets. That much I knew.

I raised my arms, hiding seventy percent of my face. I exposed only one eye and squinted. While praying to a god or something that I wouldn't be hit in an exposed vital spot, I kept my feet moving.

The gun, shrouded in black mist, had its trigger pulled. A storm of buckshot was fired in automatic succession. I sprinted through it, relying on my defensive power.

Their goal, after all, was to take down Lancer. If that was the case, the weapons they carried had to be suited for fighting him—meaning they were designed with his low Endurance in mind. As for me, as long as they didn’t hit my eye, it wouldn’t be a major issue.

On my forehead, the side of my head, and right next to my eye—bullets struck in succession, and each time, skin and flesh were gouged out. I wanted to scream. How much easier would it be if I could just pass out right now? If I could pull back, I would have done so long ago. But if that wasn't permitted and I had a duty to advance, I had to keep going, even if it was through hell.

The ammunition ran out, and the Malice Flash disappeared. In other words, the rain of Noble Phantasm bullets falling on my face had stopped. My face was covered in blood, but I could still see.

I didn't know if he had another magazine, but either way, I was faster. Berserker made the same judgment and threw the gun away. At the same time, he threw a grenade. But in the end, it was a desperate move.

"Useless!"

The distance between us was almost gone. I quickly swung my left sword and swatted the grenade. It exploded almost simultaneously, but for a modern weapon that wasn't even a Noble Phantasm, wasn't even enough to blind me.

And finally, I had Berserker within my range. I pulled back both arms like a bow and struck his sword with all my might.

A dull, heavy impact. The physical strength of two monster-class beings clashed. And then, I felt it all the way to my elbows—the sensation of my right sword biting deep into the core.

Berserker’s sword bent halfway. One more hit, and it would snap. It was already in pitiful shape.

My heart raced. I could end this now. But I should not have forgotten. Even if he was maddened, the enemy I was facing was a true hero.

I tried to pull back my right hand, but I realized it wouldn't move. Berserker was gripping my arm. Before I could properly process that, my legs were swept out from under me.

"Gah—!"

I was slammed onto the ground from my back. A throw with such technical brilliance that I didn't even realize my vision had shifted. All the air escaped my body. My head spun. I couldn't understand the situation; my thoughts couldn't keep up with how to resolve this. And then, that black mass filled my vision.

Instinctively twisting my neck was a reflex to something approaching. Something passed by my face, followed by a massive impact from behind and a literal explosion. While pinning my arm, Berserker had aimed his leg at me.

My intuition told me that it was an attack that would definitely knock me out for a few moments in a single blow. If that happened, it would be the end for me. However, my body didn’t freeze in fear. More accurately, I didn’t have the luxury of doing so.

Fear is a manifestation of having room to spare in a situation. I learned that for the first time today. Faced with a threat that is literally right before your eyes, there is no time for screaming or despair. You just have to prepare and resist.

Having failed the strike, Berserker now tried to twist and snap my arm. Like I’ll let you! With all the strength I had, I delivered a kick to his wide-open head.

The black armor tilted significantly. I forcibly pulled my arm out before it could be fully locked. One arm regained its freedom, but the other was still captured. I braced my knee and put my strength into pulling it out again. But before that, Berserker’s backhand struck the side of my head with great force.

My vision went black, and the next thing I saw was a completely distorted landscape. It wasn't something as mild as being drunk—it was as if the world were collapsing, crumbling in defiance of common sense. For a moment, I almost forgot my purpose. But the pain in my right arm brought me back to reality.

No aim, no plan. I raised my leg and thrust it forward. I hit something, but I didn’t care—I kicked anyway.

The pain from my right arm stopped. At the same time, the sensation of being touched vanished. My vision finally began to return, and a black rolling object was in front of me. I had even forgotten the reason I was fighting. But I had to defeat it—driven by that obsession, I swung down what I held in both hands simultaneously.

Clang—! Something was sent flying. Something long and thin that glinted silver. It spun several times before piercing the ground. I finally understood that it was the broken sword.

Little by little, I remembered the current situation. What I hold is a sword, the enemy is Berserker, and the reason for fighting—is no longer necessary. I just have to win and live. Because I have a duty to live. That is enough.

Using the swords as canes, I stood up and simultaneously fled out of Berserker’s range.

I raise the swords in both of my hands. As always, it looks awkward—honestly, it would suit me better if I were holding a large axe or a greatsword instead. Well, whether it looks good or not doesn’t really matter; when it comes to practicality, appearance hardly matters anyway.

Berserker sprang up. His reliable weapon had already vanished near the hilt. In terms of damage, Berserker still had far less. From that point alone, he was still at an advantage. However—

"Pointless."

In his current state, Berserker couldn't defeat me while I was armed. He cannot parry the rain of small Noble Phantasms. And if he couldn't engage in proper combat, it would be easy to use forceful means to open up the distance. The damage wasn't small, but this much could be overturned immediately.

I activated the Gate of Babylon. Distorting the space behind me, I deployed over a hundred ripples that fired small Noble Phantasms. Seeing this, Berserker charged at me with everything he had."

It didn't matter if the Noble Phantasms made it in time or not. If Berserker has no weapon, even I can defeat him in close-quarters combat.

He curled his body as much as possible to reduce his hit area and dove in as if crawling on the ground. But perhaps due to a lack of Mana or the damage he’d taken, his speed was slightly slower than before.

Before he could reach me, the Noble Phantasms were fired. A rain that assaulted Berserker from the front. Some he swatted away with the remains of his sword. Some he punched away with his gauntlets. While he managed to protect his vitals, damage accumulated as Noble Phantasms pierced his extremities. And finally, losing to the pressure, Berserker’s feet stopped. I had no reason to show mercy. When I increased the pressure of the Noble Phantasms even further, it happened.

The black mist hiding Berserker cleared as if being blown away. The black armor's silhouette became distinct. And—he held a new sword.

Sharp—such a cliché thought, yet it was a sword where everything converged into that one word. Beauty, brilliance, everything. For a moment, my soul was stolen by that blade, which looked like it could cut through you just by being seen. But standing before that Noble Phantasm, I couldn't be ashamed of that. That was the Divine Construct, Arondight (The Unfading Light of the Lake).

It raised all his parameters by one rank and doubled his success rate—an absurd performance. Among stat-boosting Noble Phantasms, there was hardly anything that could surpass it. It was a level of power that felt almost like cheating, a true trump card worth using even at the cost of abandoning his other two Noble Phantasms, Knight of Owner and For Someone's Glory (Not For One's Own Glory).

But that was only if his opponent was someone other than me.

"It's over, Berserker."

Berserker moved at a speed incomparable to before. But no matter how fast he was, unless he could teleport, the Noble Phantasms already deployed were faster.

Berserker parried the small Noble Phantasms without difficulty. For a Berserker with technique that stood out even among Heroic Spirits, such a feat would be easy. But once normal sword-sized ones began to mix in, that was no longer the case. Simply put, the power was on a completely different level.

Berserker's advance completely stopped, and he was slowly being pushed back. I increased the number of Noble Phantasms further, raising the pressure.

For better or worse, Berserker’s Knight of Owner was everything to me. If I launched a powerful Noble Phantasm, he would turn it into his own strength. It was because of that silent pressure that I couldn’t fire medium-sized or larger weapons that would be useful in his hands. I didn’t even dare deploy a shield, for fear it might be stolen by him. Moreover, given the danger of close-quarters combat, I absolutely could not provide an unbreakable weapon or shield. Even if I had a slight advantage in parameters, there was no way I could fight Berserker on equal terms.

However, the Berserker had taken up Arondight: The Unfading Light of the Lake. Since he would have died there otherwise, that judgment was correct. But that didn't mean anything more than extending a death that was one second away to five seconds away.

Since he no longer had Knight of Owner, there was no longer any need to limit my use of projectile Noble Phantasms.

"■■■■■■■■■■!!"

A scream as he swatted away the approaching weapons with Arondight. It was a sound that even suggested sadness.

"I’m sure you had your own thoughts about Saber and things you wanted to say... but it’s a shame."

If I left him alone, he might retreat or disappear by a Command Spell. But I had no intention of being kind enough to let him escape here.

Berserker’s arm stopped for a fraction of a second. What I had used to entangle his arm was the Noble Phantasm named after Gilgamesh’s closest friend, Enkidu: The Chains of Heaven. For Lancelot, who doesn’t carry the blood of a god, its binding power wasn’t very strong. It was at a level where it could be broken immediately if he tried. And since he was wielding Arondight, it should be even easier.

However—that moment was fatal before the rain of Noble Phantasms. Having lost his means of resistance against the mountain of falling swords, Berserker was pierced through his entire body in an instant.

"■■■■■■■! ■■■...■■...■…………"

The roar that was the symbol of his Mad Enhancement grew smaller. A certain fatal wound. Not even a Command Spell could save him now.

One of the daggers cracked Berserker’s helmet. The face that appeared seemed to be dominated by rage, yet only his eyes seemed sane.

"A... Ar... Arthur... my King."

With numerous swords still stuck in his body, Lancelot fell to his knees. Arondight, which had slipped from his hand, had already lost its sharpness.

His eyes wandered for a moment. No longer a Berserker, just a knight—his gaze caught mine.

"Ar... cher... I... thank you... My... King... is..."

Without being able to finish his sentence, the Knight of the Lake vanished into light. There was no longer any proof in this place—no, anywhere in the world—that he had existed in this era.

Looking at the spot where Lancelot had fallen, a thought occurred to me. The reason Lancelot didn't attack King Arthur might have been because he was already satisfied.

There was no answer anywhere. I only thought that because I interpreted Lancelot’s final words in a convenient way. But I felt that was fine.

I’m terribly tired. I’ve consumed a fair amount of Magical Energy. Fortunately, mana continues to be sent from Sakura, who has a large Magical Energy capacity. I can manage about one or two more fight while performing self-treatment. Though I hope that doesn't happen.

I was about to head to Lancer’s aid immediately when I suddenly looked back. There were the traces of the battle with Berserker, which would now exist only in my memories. I lingered there for a moment, feeling a slight sense of regret. Then, without looking back again, I finally started running.