This Is My Holy Grail War [39]

The moon had set, and the stars were fading; dawn was upon the world.

For the first time since stepping into the Fourth Holy Grail War in Fuyuki City, Assassin had slept soundly. With Berserker’s demise, a heavy weight seemed to have lifted from her shoulders.

At least for now, she believed that her life would not end during this war.

With her Noble Phantasm, [Not for One’s Own Glory], she could have disguised herself as Berserker and accessed the unparalleled martial prowess of Lancelot. However, even though that skill was powerful, its applicability couldn’t compare to the versatility of her [Instinct].

It was this very instinct that saved her life once more. Even in her slumber, a sense of impending doom jolted her awake.

The feeling was primal, like a predator’s gaze fixed upon her. The moment she opened her eyes, she saw a radiant figure standing above her—Archer, Gilgamesh.

“Oh? So, the mongrel is awake,” Archer remarked with mild surprise. “I was about to punish you for your insolence, but since you’ve woken, I’ll let it pass… this time.”

His crimson eyes gleamed like precious jewels, their condescension clear as they swept over her. Archer’s sardonic grin and his sheer presence alone conveyed that her [Instinct] had narrowly saved her from an untimely end.

Assassin lay atop the rooftop, while Archer stood imperiously with one foot on a metal antenna, ensuring no one stood higher than him—even in such a trivial setting.

The first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon, but the earth below remained cloaked in shadow. It was still a time for battle.

Assassin noticed, however, that there was no killing intent in Archer’s gaze. There was a sense of disdain, yes, but also amusement. Yet she knew—disappointing him would mean death.

None of the previous night’s battles had captured Archer’s interest. Not Saber and Lancer’s duel, not Kiritsugu’s explosions. Yet, upon first laying eyes on Assassin, Archer seemed intrigued.

“Why are you here?” Assassin asked cautiously.

After last night’s events, her identity as Kirei Kotomine’s Servant and Tokiomi Tohsaka’s ally was no secret. Archer had no reason to seek her out, unless he was personally interested in her.

If Archer deemed her unworthy, her life would end in an instant. Assassin knew this.

Archer’s smirk deepened as he answered.

“This Holy Grail War is filled with beasts and mongrels—none of them worthy of the title ‘hero,’” he declared. Then, his gaze sharpened, and his tone shifted. “But among these wretches, one has managed to catch my attention. You.”

Assassin’s thoughts raced. Why her?

Could it be similar to his fascination with Saber? But Archer had never sought out Saber like this.

“May I ask… what about me intrigues you?” Assassin ventured, her tone measured.

Though a mysterious force had assured her a place in the next Holy Grail War, she couldn’t place all her trust in such promises. The weight of survival still pressed upon her shoulders, and she wasn’t willing to gamble on uncertain salvation.

Assassin knew that dealing with Gilgamesh was both simple and complex. He despised deceit and cowardice but appreciated directness and boldness. Calculating her words carefully, she decided to ask outright.

“It’s your soul, you curious little mongrel,” Archer said, his voice brimming with amusement. “In just two days, a blank canvas has been painted with so many vibrant colors.”

He eyed her as if appraising a masterpiece. “Every stroke is deliberate, not a single one wasted. It’s as if a skilled artist has crafted a magnificent piece on a once-pure surface.”

Archer’s interest lay in the essence of Assassin’s soul, which he evaluated like a connoisseur of art.

Assassin herself couldn’t remember her past—her birth, her death, or even her name. Her soul had been a blank slate, and it was this purity that first intrigued Archer.

Now she understood. Gilgamesh saw something incomplete, something missing within her, and that imperfection fascinated him.

“Let me guess the artist, then,” Archer mused. “Your missing piece… it’s almost complete.”

There was another reason for Archer’s interest, though he didn’t voice it. In Assassin, he saw a faint echo of an old friend.

“But the finishing touch is still absent,” Archer said, his tone growing serious. “So let me provide it. Allow me to transform this unfinished work into a masterpiece for the ages!”

Golden ripples appeared behind Archer as the [Gates of Babylon] began to manifest.

“Struggle, mongrel! Show me how strong your desire to live truly is!” Archer sneered, his voice laced with mocking delight. “What is it that drives you to survive?”

The treasures within the Gates of Babylon trembled with energy, poised to unleash devastation at Archer’s command.

In his eyes, Assassin’s desire to live must surely hinge upon the Holy Grail. And to Gilgamesh, all treasures—including the Grail—belonged to him. If Assassin truly sought the Grail, it would be an affront to his majesty.

Yet Archer wasn’t devoid of reason. Assassin had shown no hostility toward him. On the contrary, as Kirei’s Servant, she carried a faint air of allyship.

Thus, Archer’s attack wasn’t meant to kill—not yet. He wanted to test her worthiness. If she proved herself, granting her a mere trinket like the Grail wouldn’t matter.

In that moment, a voice echoed in Assassin’s mind.

“By my Command Spell, I order you…”

It was Kirei Kotomine. This was his third and final Command Spell.

As the red light of the spell enveloped her, Assassin felt her body begin to fade, slipping into the dimensional rift that would transport her to her Master’s side.

But just as she began to vanish, golden chains burst forth and ensnared her.

“So you think you can run, mongrel?!” Archer growled.

The [Chains of Heaven]—strong enough to bind even gods—held Assassin firmly, dragging her back from the rift.

Assassin had no divinity, so the chains were merely unbreakable. Yet that alone was enough to seal her fate.

I’m going to die! Assassin thought as her [Instinct] screamed. She could see the image of her death—the moment when Gilgamesh’s weapons would pierce her.

The golden king was furious at Kirei’s interference, but just as he prepared to unleash his attack, a thunderous roar broke the tension.

“Archer, is this the behavior of a king?!”

From the stormy skies came Rider, his chariot tearing across the heavens. With a single charge, he disrupted Archer’s stance and left the rooftop in shambles.

“Rider? Why would you…” Waver peeked out from the chariot, only to be shoved back by Rider.

“Living is a worthy goal in itself,” Rider declared. “If you need a reason to live, then live first and find it later!”

Just as Rider’s conquest was his purpose, the question of why could be left to history’s scholars. For now, surviving was enough.

—

T/N: Heh, as expected from myself… (hair flips)

This is a fan translation of 这是我的圣杯之战 by 向希望祈祷. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!