Fate: Hero of Justice Takeover

This was a civil war among Celtic heroes.

A battle between flawless masters of mind, skill, and body.

In this brief and swift exchange, there was no doubt—Lancer had the upper hand.

Compared to the first battle at the warehouse district, Saber's sword strikes tonight were lighter and slower. She clenched her left thumb in her palm, not placing it on the hilt, while the remaining four fingers lightly gripped the hilt, only assisting in controlling the direction of the blade. She did not use the strength of her left arm in her slashes.

Lancer knew that this was due to the injury inflicted by his Noble Phantasm, "Gáe Buidhe: The Yellow Rose of Mortality."

In the intense battle where there was no time to chant the true names of their Noble Phantasms, his twin spears were simply too sharp. Even the slightest touch of their cursed attributes would make the enemy pay a heavy price.

But the King of Knights, who was not fighting at her full strength, was not the opponent Diarmuid Ua Duibhne wished to challenge—

"Don't misunderstand, Lancer."

Perhaps sensing Lancer's hesitation, the valiant Saber shook her head and said.

"This battle is a continuation of the one at the warehouse district. The injury from that time is your medal. For me, injuries and the strength of my strikes are secondary in battle. The only thing that brings me victory is how I focus my fighting spirit, making it purer and sharper."

The golden sword swept through the night sky, its fluid motion proving Saber's words true. Even at a disadvantage, her eyes were filled with unwavering, clear fighting spirit, without hesitation or slack.

Saber was indeed "giving it her all," and she herself wished to duel in this state—

Lancer understood this, and a strong, exhilarating numbness rose from the depths of his heart.

Ah, how fortunate he was to be summoned in this war and to encounter this noble knight, as pure as moonlight, among countless heroic spirits...

"May your knightly sword forever shine with glory. It is my honour to have met you!"

The handsome spearman smiled with satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with a bright light.

It was the joy and gratitude of meeting a kindred spirit.

Both shared the same resolve.

If this was a path with no retreat, the one who remained must watch with respect as the other marched forward.

So, let us fight without reservations, without regrets, a battle where we stake our lives to question the true value of our blades.

The crimson and golden spears swung like lightning, their unprecedented howls tearing through the surrounding air, venting their master's soaring fighting spirit.

"Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, the vanguard spearman of the Knights of Fianna—I challenge you!"

"I accept! Artoria Pendragon, King of Britain, accepts your challenge—!"

Drawing the sword of promised victory from the ground, Saber charged forward without hesitation, swinging her blade.

"Come!"

The weapons clashed once more, flying back and forth, the sparks they created shining like the joy of warriors who lived by the sword.

***

Hidden in the dark corner of the abandoned factory, Kayneth watched the battle unfolding outside. In his heart, there was none of the knights' noble resolve, only a burning anxiety that scorched his chest.

The longer the battle dragged on, the more anxious and frustrated he became.

Why couldn't they win? Why couldn't Lancer's spear pierce Saber?

By now, Kayneth deeply regretted not obtaining the heroic spirit of Iskandar. Back then, the catalyst had been stolen at the critical moment, and Kayneth had hastily summoned Diarmuid as a replacement.

Although the servant's abilities were inferior, Kayneth believed himself to be a top-tier Master, capable of compensating for any disadvantage. At the time, Lord El-Melloi even harboured the bold thought that his own talents would suffice to make up for the servant's shortcomings.

But now, Kayneth had lost his Magic Circuits and could no longer afford to be as optimistic as before. If he wanted to survive this battle with only one Command Spell left and a subpar servant, he would have to be even more cautious.

The self-geis scroll had already been signed; fleeing would only hasten his death.

Damn it... Groaning inwardly, Kayneth couldn't help but cast a resentful glance at the young man beside him. The drinks and snacks on his table were so irritating—

The golden eyes, filled with palpable authority, forced Kayneth to avert his gaze in embarrassment.

"There's no need to stare at me like that."

Sakatsuki said, holding a cup of cola, casually uttering words that were utterly humiliating to Kayneth.

"You're nothing but a worthless fool, Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald."

"Indulging in your fiancée's pampering, refusing to face reality, drowning in your own talent and acting recklessly, consumed by jealousy between men and refusing to acknowledge your servant... This is the end result."

The loyal spearman was thoroughly enjoying his battle with Saber, so Sakatsuki finally had the chance to voice his thoughts freely.

"There's no one easier to control... no, I mean, easier to get along with than this spearman. If you place your trust in him, he will dedicate his skills, his spiritual core, his life—everything—to you, his Master."

"Although Diarmuid, summoned as Lancer, did not bring his sword of wrath, 'Gáe Buidhe' is dangerous enough in my eyes: not just to servants, but to Masters as well."

At this, Sakatsuki's lips curled into a mocking smile.

"After all, Masters are not like servants, who are essentially spiritual bodies and can stop bleeding at any time."

This cursed spear, capable of inflicting permanent wounds, was incredibly useful in the free-for-all of the seven factions. Although there was a risk of being ganged up on, if the Master played his cards right—forming alliances, dividing opponents—many Masters would be more than happy to watch their enemies bleed to death.

When the final situation became clear, dragging the remaining enemies into close combat—who could confidently say they could defeat the chief warrior of the Knights of Fianna?

Although this was an idealized outcome (after all, most servants in the Fourth War were exceptional), it proved that Lancer had the potential to claim ultimate victory. Not to mention, Kayneth's abilities as a magus were outstanding in this war, and Lancer's mana was supplied by his fiancée, Sola-Ui.

But with such a good hand, Kayneth had managed to squander it all.

"I don't want to hear your rebuttals; reality has already proven everything."

Sakatsuki waved his hand impatiently, cutting off Kayneth's words. Then, resting his chin on his hand, he quietly watched the two figures battling in the open space, his calm murmurs like a dream.

"In the end, these are just the ramblings of a dying man... that's all."

***@@novelbin@@

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