This Is My Holy Grail War [102]

In the outskirts of Fuyuki City, ancient trees began to wither. These silent witnesses to countless eras now faced their final moments, their life force drawn away to fuel the apocalypse.

Much like Rider’s [Blood Fort Andromeda], Archer’s Noble Phantasm was exponentially larger, more expansive, and infinitely more terrifying. Everywhere her gaze fell, life surged toward death.

When Assassin finally snapped out of her daze, staring into the blood-red twilight sky, the once-lush forest had been reduced to a desolate wasteland. The scene before her resembled a graveyard for saints, exuding an indescribable sorrow.

From the depths of the forest, countless pairs of crimson eyes emerged, feral beasts lurking in the shadows. But these were no ordinary animals; they were monstrous creatures, born from the corrupting influence of Archer’s Noble Phantasm.

“This is indiscriminate slaughter of all living things!” Tohsaka Rin’s voice trembled with anger. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth as she shouted, “There’s no way the existence of magecraft can stay hidden now!”

“Can’t you see?” Illyasviel countered sharply. “Whether it’s hidden or not no longer matters. What we’re facing is an even greater issue.” She pointed to the void in the sky.

“All life in this world is being drawn toward that hole. The black mud the priest spoke of has already appeared. If we don’t stop it, this world will collapse.”

“Of course I know that!” Rin retorted, her frustration spilling over. “Archer is one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Her Noble Phantasm is undoubtedly tied to the end of the world. If we don’t stop her, it won’t just be Fuyuki City—it could lead to the extinction of humanity itself!”

“If that’s the case, history will curse our names forever,” Assassin remarked, her eyes fixed on the sky, lost in thought.

Why would you care about that, Assassin? Rin’s question echoed silently through the mental link their contract provided.

From the beginning, you’ve claimed to have no name and no purpose beyond victory. So why do you care now? You’re such a stubborn person.

Indeed. Without a name, how could one be cursed for eternity? Assassin’s reply dripped with irony. But after that, she forced herself to let go of such thoughts. Survival is all that matters, she reminded herself, shifting her focus to the possibility of victory.

“If what Kirei Kotomine said is true, the Holy Grail can no longer grant wishes,” Illyasviel observed calmly. “The Grail is already corrupted.”

“Can’t grant wishes?!” Saber’s voice was the first to rise in protest. Of all those present, she was the one most deeply invested in claiming the Holy Grail.

“Probably not,” Illyasviel admitted hesitantly. “But if the taint could be purified, the Grail might still fulfill wishes. And that shouldn’t be too difficult—assuming we fully understand the source of the corruption.”

“Fully understand it, huh?” Saber murmured, her gaze steady. As long as there was even the faintest chance, she would not abandon the dream of saving the people of Britain.

“Archer is unleashing her Noble Phantasm,” Saber continued, her eyes narrowing on the shadowy figure soaring through the skies. “What if we take this opportunity to strike down the golden Archer?” Her determination was unwavering.

“No,” Assassin said firmly. “We can’t just charge in recklessly. His Noble Phantasm, [Ea], would annihilate everyone.” She glanced at Saber. “Gilgamesh—the golden Servant’s true name. He is humanity’s oldest Heroic Spirit, and his trump card is the Anti-World Noble Phantasm [Ea, the Sword of Rupture]. If we move carelessly, we’ll all be destroyed.”

“Then, what’s your plan, Assassin?” Saber asked, her voice tense, an ominous foreboding creeping into her chest.

“[Ea] surpasses even [Excalibur] in destructive power. We can’t confront it head-on, so we must create an opening,” Assassin replied coldly. “Gilgamesh is an arrogant king. At the start, he won’t use his full power. We need to exploit that pride, force him to show a weakness, and then strike decisively.”

Assassin understood that an outright victory was unlikely in their current situation. Even alone, Gilgamesh could dominate Berserker and Saber.

Only by removing this golden king from the battlefield could they hope to have a chance against Archer and prevent the apocalypse.

Assassin knew very little about Archer, this apocalyptic knight. Among the Servants summoned during these two Holy Grail Wars, she was the only one whose identity and capabilities Assassin couldn’t decipher. For the first time, Assassin felt the vulnerability of a “properly summoned” Servant facing the unknown.

Whether the combined strength of Heracles and Artoria could triumph over Archer was uncertain. But they had to try. Resolving herself, Assassin made a decision—a decision unlike anything she had ever done before.

“I’ll take care of the golden Archer!” Assassin declared with all the strength she could muster.

It was a remarkable statement from someone who, just two weeks ago, had been an ordinary person. Though she had faced Heroic Spirits in battle over a dozen times, she was still inexperienced compared to the legendary heroes surrounding her.

Assassin’s body trembled faintly. Was it fear? The thought of facing Gilgamesh alone seemed like a fool’s errand. But she knew it was their only chance. Silently calculating her side’s odds, Assassin decided to take the risk.

Victory is all that matters. Even if it’s my allies who achieve it, it’s still a victory. She consoled herself, though deep down, she knew the truth: this likely wasn’t the case.

Facing death was easy—especially when you knew you wouldn’t truly die. But what about the next Holy Grail War? What lay ahead was shrouded in uncertainty, leaving her no choice but to gamble.

“I’ll try to hold him off. When the time comes, use the Holy Sword to finish him,” she said. It was the only path to victory—and the only hope for ending the apocalypse.

Victory was Assassin’s ultimate goal. Yet the concept was vague and elusive to her.

To win, she thought, you simply needed to eliminate every enemy in your path. But what of allies? Surely they weren’t obstacles? Even if she fell in battle, it wouldn’t negate the victory.

What does victory even mean? she wondered. Was it fighting until the bitter end? Claiming the Grail herself? Making a wish?

Assassin prayed for her allies’ success, hoping their victory would count as her own.

“But how will you escape after [Excalibur] is unleashed?!” Saber demanded, shocked. She knew Assassin lacked the means to survive such an attack.

“Then I won’t escape,” Assassin said plainly. She had no wish that only the Grail could grant, and death no longer frightened her. All that mattered was the result. She would pave the road to victory with her own blood.

“Why…?” Saber’s heart sank further. A knight sacrificing themselves for their king’s victory, for the salvation of humanity, for Britain’s survival—without asking for a reward or even a wish.

Saber felt a deep ache, as though a blade were carving her heart, the pain seeping into her very soul.

This feeling would stay with her forever. The King of Knights, undefeated, was deeply moved by Assassin’s resolve.

“In the name of Lancelot,” Assassin said softly, “you must win, Saber.”

“For victory.” Saber extended her sword-wielding hand to Assassin.

“For… for Britain.” Assassin hesitated, then placed her hand in Saber’s. She felt the warmth of Saber’s soft arm, and Saber held her hand tightly, as though she feared losing her most loyal knight.

Saber’s resolute expression wavered, caught between her unspoken plea to stop and her overwhelming desire for the Grail. She said nothing.

—

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!