This Is My Holy Grail War [144]

The bond formed through Amakusa Shirou Tokisada’s contract was becoming tangible, linking Saber and her Master through their shared mana. This connection allowed Saber to sense Amakusa’s condition—he had indeed taken on a physical body and was now fully participating in this Holy Grail War as its Master.

After the fall of the [Hanging Gardens of Babylon], Saber encountered Mordred once more. Instinctively, she wished to avoid her, but Amakusa assured her it was unnecessary. As allies now, there was no reason to hide.

Thus, Red Saber and Black Saber found themselves on the same side, though Mordred insisted on meeting her again. Saber, however, remained somewhat wary of Mordred.

Meanwhile, Semiramis, the Assassin of Red, claimed to mediate but unexpectedly stumbled upon Ruler—Jeanne d’Arc.

Inevitably, Saber and Mordred crossed paths. What sparks would fly between a king and a rebel? Mordred had already identified Saber’s true identity, though certain unexpected truths made the encounter peculiar.

To Saber, Mordred seemed like a child. Surprisingly, their interaction flowed smoothly, and after setting aside the initial hostility, they even managed to exchange pleasantries, shaking hands and sharing lighthearted words.

Meanwhile, Jeanne ventured deep into the ruins, her aim unerring as she sought out Amakusa. Her initial expectations of the Arbiter had turned into disillusionment. Even though she uncovered his true name, she could not unravel the name long since forgotten.

In the smoldering ruins, Jeanne and Amakusa exchanged words—ideas that ultimately clashed.

They worshipped the same God, shared the same class, and participated in the same Holy Grail War. This was fate, both binding and damning.

Jeanne rejected Amakusa’s wish. She declared, “If this comes to pass, humanity will abandon their emotions, becoming unfeeling, desireless machines. The world will stagnate, and all will fall into silent death.”

“You and I both understand humanity’s strengths and weaknesses,” Amakusa sighed, reflecting on sixty years of contemplation. “I have discovered that humanity has its limits. Only by suppressing these emotions entirely can mankind find salvation and a hope for peace.”

Their arguments led nowhere, neither able to persuade the other. Diplomatic resolution gave way to inevitable conflict.

Saber listened in bafflement—not confusion, but disinterest. Lofty ideals like saving the world, human salvation, or world peace were merely slogans to her. It was only because of Kiritsugu Emiya that she paid any attention to notions of being a hero of justice.

Having fought in several Holy Grail Wars, Saber knew that every Master and Servant had their own aspirations and reasons for participating. None were exceptions. If Amakusa, as Ruler, had chosen to directly involve himself in the Holy Grail War, then Jeanne, also a Ruler, had entered to oppose him.

Amakusa’s wish is to save humanity using the Third Magic, Saber speculated about their summons to the war. As for Jeanne… she must have answered the Grail to stop him, right? That was her interpretation.

Would materializing human souls truly strip them of emotions? Saber didn’t know. She only understood the fear of death. If offered an immortality plan, how many would refuse? She wouldn’t, as her goal had always been to live. But others might, and she wouldn’t concern herself with that.

“People suffer greatly, unable to free themselves from their burdens,” Amakusa continued, extending an invitation to Jeanne. “Only by shedding these chains can they be reborn. Join us, Ruler.”

Despite his impassioned plea, Amakusa’s words carried fatigue, even powerlessness. Yet, he remained ever hopeful, smiling, never disheartened. “Regardless of good or evil, weakness or strength, I will save all of humanity.”

“No, you have no right to make such a choice for mankind,” Jeanne retorted, gripping her flag tightly. Her rejection came through action as much as words. “Humanity progresses through painful lessons and failures. A reckless change would sever their drive to move forward.”

“By freeing mankind from the shackles of flesh, survival instincts will fade, desires will diminish. They will become thinking spirits, retaining love and emotions, merely immortal,” Amakusa countered, dismissing the notion that immortality would stifle human progress.

Few could truly comprehend their debate, yet Saber happened to be one of them. Though she had started as a mere human, standing before Heroic Spirits once made her feel insignificant. Now, however, Saber had earned the pride to meet any Servant as an equal.

Summoned into the Holy Grail War by an unknown entity, Saber had become a thinking spiritual entity. As she pondered this, she noticed a key difference—she still had her survival instincts and an unyielding desire to live.

Since she lacked the insight to judge their debate, she remained silent, observing the Rulers as they made their choices.

When Jeanne raised her flag, Saber instinctively placed her hand on [Durandal]’s hilt. As the blade left its sheath, its elemental power erupted, aiming directly at Jeanne!

The blade, glowing with crimson light, screeched against its scabbard, igniting sparks on [Avalon]. [Durandal] pierced the air, unleashing a sonic boom as it hurtled toward the saint.

CLANG!

The immense force transferred fully to Jeanne as her flag intercepted the strike. Her feet carved deep trenches into the parched ground as she was pushed back.

The surrounding flames roared higher, fanned by the fierce winds created by the attack. The inferno engulfed the forest, distorting the air with heat. A mortal couldn’t survive this hellish blaze.

“Apologies, Ruler. I care nothing for your words. He is my Master,” Saber declared, her eyes shining with silvery light. Despite their divine purity, her gaze carried chilling killing intent. Her left hand, gripping the scabbard, pointed at Jeanne. “I will win.”

What was once a harmless scabbard now bore a violet magic circle, serving as a catalyst for her spellcasting. With a graceful motion, Saber unleashed a radiant beam of magical energy.

The ancient magic illuminated the night sky, striking Jeanne in an instant.

BOOM!

The hit didn’t demonstrate Saber’s precision but Jeanne’s decision not to evade.

Though not a Noble Phantasm, Saber’s magical cannon was potent enough to demand a price for a direct hit. Yet Jeanne remained unscathed.

“Impressive [Magic Resistance],” Saber muttered, frowning. “It didn’t leave a scratch.”

Even Age of Gods magic couldn’t penetrate Jeanne’s defenses. Saber concluded that Jeanne’s [Magic Resistance] must be at least A-rank or higher.

“So, what is the King’s wish?” Mordred, who had stayed close to Saber, asked after the skirmish began.

“I just want to win,” Saber replied. “To stay in this world, no matter what it takes.”

“I understand!” Mordred nodded, determination lighting her face. “To live on, leading the people to prosperity! Right?”

“Huh?”

“I’ll fully support you, Father!” Mordred grinned radiantly, seemingly misunderstanding something profound.

Saber could tell Mordred genuinely viewed her as King Arthur. Using the idealized image of the noble, victorious king, Mordred projected her expectations onto Saber.

Saber felt conflicted but refrained from denying it outright. She didn’t wish to hurt Mordred or jeopardize their fragile camaraderie.

Their skirmish drew the attention of allied Servants. First to arrive was Mordred, ever loyal to Saber.

“Leave the fighting to me, Father,” Mordred said, her cheerful demeanor suggesting joy at being of service.

Following her were the Red Assassin, Semiramis; Lancer, Karna; and Archer. One by one, the Servants gathered, forcing Jeanne to retreat.

Saber knew Jeanne possessed Command Seals gifted by the Grail—two for each Servant. But even with such an advantage, Jeanne couldn’t possibly take on an entire faction alone.

“Do not pursue her. The Greater Grail is our priority,” Amakusa commanded, calming the restless Red Servants. “The battle’s aftermath will draw more enemies.”

He referred to the Black faction’s Servants. Still in enemy territory, chasing Jeanne would be reckless. Saber agreed with his judgment.

“The Greater Grail isn’t here—it’s far to the east,” Saber pointed toward the horizon where the sun had set. The lingering mana from the Greater Grail guided her senses.

“The Grail we captured is now back in Black’s possession,” Semiramis muttered irritably, glaring at Saber. “Such a nuisance…”

“Previously, we were enemies,” Saber replied simply.

“We’ll reclaim it,” Amakusa interjected, diffusing the tension. “Rest for now. We’ll move out when everyone is ready.”

And so, the chaos subsided—for the moment.

But even amidst the fiery ruins, Saber sensed something off. Three distinct presences were locked onto Amakusa. Just as she prepared to sit and rest, a voice of dissent arose among their allies.

“I felt the change in Masters. Care to explain, Father Shirou?” Saber turned her gaze to see Red Archer questioning Amakusa.

“Yes, your Master transferred their Command Seals to me. From now on, I’ll act as your substitute Master,” Amakusa explained calmly.

“I wish to see them,” Archer demanded.

“I’m sorry, but you know the situation. The Hanging Gardens’ fall would have been unsurvivable for an ordinary mage,” Amakusa replied apologetically. “Retrieving the Command Seals was already a miracle.”

After a long silence, Archer begrudgingly nodded, seemingly convinced—or at least unable to refute Amakusa’s words. The tension dissolved once more, with Amakusa’s composed demeanor earning Saber’s respect.

For the first time, she felt she had a reliable Master. Finally, a trustworthy Master.

Yet not all was as it seemed.

Even during her supposed moments of rest, Saber remained vigilant. In Black’s stronghold, she had never truly let her guard down.

Lying in bed, she continued weaving her magecraft. But as she found a sliver of respite, her thoughts turned to hatred.

Pain crept into her mind, unbidden, as memories of Gilgamesh surfaced. The sight of countless golden weapons haunted her thoughts—a torment amplified by the memory correction that ensured it could never fade until her revenge was complete.

“Ugh…!” Saber clutched her temples, overwhelmed by the resurgence of pain. It was as if she was reliving the agony of being pierced by Gilgamesh’s weapons.

The golden ripples of the [Gate of Babylon] shimmered in her vision, phantom swords threatening to overwhelm her. Though her instincts told her it wasn’t real, the torment was undeniable.

The seeds of hatred had taken root, and the growing agony reminded Saber of the necessity of vengeance.

—

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!