This Is My Holy Grail War [80]

Assassin flicked her sword, scattering droplets of crimson blood that stained the ground beneath her.

Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself, trying to control her breathing. Lancer’s unrelenting energy hadn’t infected her; instead, she focused inward, reflecting on the clarity of her strikes.

For the first time, she had landed a decisive blow against a Heroic Spirit—one of the greatest heroes of Celtic mythology, the Child of Light, Cú Chulainn.

The wide schoolyard, devoid of obstacles, had become their battleground. If she had faced such terrain before, Assassin would never have dared to consider engaging another Servant here. But now, the situation had changed—her opponent, not she, bore the injuries.

Her gaze lingered on Lancer’s wounds, where blood dripped steadily, yet he showed no sign of pain.

“You look… thrilled,” Assassin remarked, tilting her head in puzzlement. Despite his severe injuries, the man before her seemed to revel in the battle. “Care to explain why? You’re bleeding everywhere. Don’t tell me… you’re a masochist?”

Her voice carried genuine confusion. She knew warriors often thrived in battle, but she had yet to experience the so-called joy of clashing steel and blood firsthand.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been able to cut loose like this,” Lancer replied with a broad grin, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Didn’t expect the black-armored mystery to turn out to be such a strong-willed girl underneath.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Trading blows with a fiery woman like you? Feels like a dream come true. Haha!” He trailed off for a moment, his thoughts visibly wandering. “This can’t actually be a dream, right? Did my teacher mess with my head somehow? No, no, I’m overthinking it…” He shook his head, trying to dismiss the idea.

“You know,” Lancer continued, his grin returning. “We’ve crossed paths more than once now, but I still don’t know who—or what—you are. Saber? Berserker? Assassin? At this point, there’s no need for secrets, is there?”

“I am Assassin,” she replied simply. “Though, to be honest, my class doesn’t matter much—it’s just a label. As you can see, appearances are deceiving. But if you must address me, call me Assassin. It’s the role I was summoned into, and I don’t want that confused.” Her tone grew firm, stressing the last sentence.

With her sword raised high, Assassin charged forward, launching a renewed offensive.

Though their earlier exchanges had already delved into life-or-death territory, they had merely been the warm-up.

Despite his disadvantaged parameters, Lancer fought like a wild beast. He didn’t retreat; in fact, he hadn’t backed down from the start. It was clear he didn’t favor drawn-out pursuits or cat-and-mouse tactics—what he craved was a raw, visceral clash.

The air seemed to roar around them as Cú Chulainn’s battle spirit surged.

Though outmatched and bloodied, he stood tall, his defiant gaze meeting Assassin’s with unyielding confidence—a hallmark of a true hero.

What is he doing?

Assassin couldn’t understand. Shouldn’t he retreat in a situation like this?

She had always fought because she had to, forced into battles she didn’t seek. The thrill of combat, the drive to chase death, was utterly foreign to her. Perhaps that was what set Heroic Spirits apart—they fought without fear of truly dying.

Gripping her sword tighter, she resolved to end this duel, to send this reckless spearman to the underworld. Yet no matter how many times she struck, Lancer remained standing, like an unyielding force of nature.

“At first, I thought you were some kind of beast,” Lancer said with a grin, despite the blood staining his blue battle garb. “But now, I think I’m the wilder one!”

His movements were erratic, almost feral, and his body was drenched in crimson.

Even with her superior speed and strength, Assassin couldn’t land the finishing blow. Several times, her sword pierced his weak points, but his tenacity refused to let him fall.

With [Protection from Arrows], Lancer evaded her magic blasts effortlessly. His ability to reset his stance kept him from being overwhelmed, and [Battle Continuation] ensured he could keep fighting despite his wounds.

“Impressive,” Assassin muttered. “Still standing after all this?”

“A hero doesn’t just keel over like that!” Lancer bellowed, his eyes blazing. “And with a fiery lioness like you as my opponent? How could I not enjoy myself!”

“You’re going to die,” Assassin stated bluntly, her brow furrowing. “So why haven’t you used your Noble Phantasm yet?”

Her confusion was genuine. Lancer had multiple opportunities to retreat and unleash his trump card. Even if it cost him, it could have turned the tide of battle. Yet, he hadn’t used it, almost as if he were deliberately holding back.

“My Master’s orders were clear: stall you and don’t use my Noble Phantasm. He’s confident—confident enough not to worry about his own safety,” Lancer explained, shrugging. “Don’t know why, don’t really care. All that matters is the fight right now!”

Lancer grinned mischievously. “Gotta say, you’re just my type. How about it? Care to spend a wild night together? I’m strong, you know!”

“Shameless fool,” Assassin muttered, her expression tightening in disdain. Her opinion of him plummeted.

“No, no, don’t get me wrong, Assassin!” Lancer interjected, raising a hand defensively. “Sure, I wouldn’t mind a romantic evening, but my Master’s reasons for forbidding the Noble Phantasm aren’t about mercy. It’s because it’s daytime! You get it, right? During the day, we can’t risk exposing the supernatural. Nighttime—that’s when things get serious. That’s when I’ll be coming at you with everything I’ve got!”

So that’s it. Kotomine Kirei is worried about maintaining the veil of secrecy. Assassin thought as she analyzed the situation. Her musings were interrupted as Lancer’s posture shifted. For the first time, it seemed he was preparing to retreat.

“Hmm?”

Lancer froze for a moment, muttering to himself. “Figures this’d happen.”

Before Assassin could react, Lancer’s body began to shimmer and distort, as though crossing time and space. She immediately recognized the telltale signs of a Command Spell’s activation.

As he disappeared into the ether, Lancer left her with a parting remark. “My Master’s a lunatic, you know—completely nuts. But don’t forget, this beautiful night we’ll share? It’s happening!”

As Lancer vanished, Assassin wasted no time rushing toward Kuzuki Souichirou. Her instincts screamed that without her protection, her Master’s Master might fall to the crimson spear she so dreaded.

—

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!