This Is My Holy Grail War [205]

Inside a passenger plane cruising above the clouds, the Lesser Grail sat quietly, curled up on Assassin’s lap. The Avenger was wrapped in thick ceremonial robes, and the eyes hidden beneath her hood glinted with a faint, imperceptible tenderness.

The Lesser Grail looked younger than Irisviel, though a bit older than Illyasviel. But compared to every other iteration of the Lesser Grail, she might have been the youngest yet.

Her growth had been accelerated—so much so that when Assassin was summoned into this world, the girl hadn’t even fully matured. Even now, she still hadn’t been given a name.

By rights, it should’ve been the Einzbern family who named her. But ever since Assassin intervened, no one had dared lay claim to her. Even Assassin herself—and everyone else—simply referred to her as the Lesser Grail.

Assassin could see the death lines etched across the girl’s body. It made her movements careful, almost delicate. Eyes that stared death in the face could never shut naturally—in Assassin’s vision, everything around her was covered in cracks. Including the plane they were riding in. One wrong move, and the entire aircraft might come apart.

For now, she remained in her Medea guise while accompanying the Lesser Grail—after all, that was the form the girl had seen upon their first meeting.

“Could you give me a name?” The Lesser Grail turned her head, gazing up at her from Assassin’s lap. Her wide eyes were filled with hope, her pale lips slightly parted.

The question caught Assassin off guard. She had no idea what kind of name to give a child like this. She hadn’t even given herself a name.

So Assassin simply shook her head. Once again, she saw a shadow of her own past in the girl.

“I can’t.”

“Why?” the Lesser Grail asked, her voice filled with hurt.

“Because I don’t have one myself,” Assassin replied, gently brushing a tear from the corner of the girl’s eye. With the death lines so close, even this tiny gesture had to be done with the utmost care.

She remembered the first time she had seen the Lesser Grail—in the dark, damp basement of the Einzbern estate.

Walking through the dim corridors of the underground facility, she had glanced to the left and spotted a small, frigid room lit by the weak glow of fluorescent lights. Inside was a cold glass tank, reeking of stale blood.

Cold. Oppressive. Suffocating. The room felt devoid of all life—a void that swallowed sound and sensation. The only noise was the slow drip of nutrient fluid.

That day, Assassin had seen a life come into being for the first time—a soul without self, tasting the air of this world for the first time.

The air down there was foul, but when the lid of the tank was lifted, Assassin heard the girl gasp for breath. She was greedily taking in the sensation of being alive, devouring the very concept of existence—no matter how tainted the air was with blood and decay.

Her blank crimson eyes opened in a daze, and when they met Assassin’s gaze, it was like looking into a mirror of the past.

“Ah…” Though the homunculus had been implanted with massive amounts of information, she was still like a newborn—incapable of parsing it. She strained her throat to make a sound, but could only form a fragmented syllable. Assassin barely made it out.

The girl reached forward clumsily, not knowing what she was doing—but the moment her fingers brushed something solid, she lit up with joy. That innocent smile reminded Assassin of her own, back when she had first stepped into the world—a smile that trembled with unspeakable wonder.

Her soft little hand had no strength to grasp. She strained to move, struggling to escape the tank that held her. The child seemed terrified of the incubation chamber, thrashing to flee it. But her uncoordinated limbs betrayed her. Her effort was hopeless—it felt exactly like the moment Assassin had died and slipped into the void.

Perhaps this was how other Servants felt when they first laid eyes on Assassin. Not a rival for the Grail—but a life so blank and fragile, it couldn’t incite hatred.

It might have seemed beautiful, even idyllic—but the fate awaiting the Lesser Grail was anything but. She had been born to die. Her sacrifice was the price required to manifest the Greater Grail.

And that wasn’t even the cruelest part. An even more brutal destiny awaited her.

From the moment of her birth, she’d known her purpose. She knew that her death was inevitable.

A newborn homunculus—purest of all beings, so untouched by the world she didn’t even have a soul. And yet she understood what the Holy Grail was. What the Lesser Grail was.

Created by the Einzbern family, she had been implanted with knowledge of the Grail—and of combat.

She knew she was the Lesser Grail. She knew her role was to absorb the souls of the Servants and then be sacrificed. Once the war began, her death was guaranteed. Unless the entire ritual was destroyed, she would die. But what could she do? She had no power. She couldn’t fight seven Heroic Spirits.

No one could face death with calm. Her flawless innocence had awakened a primal instinct to survive. But her unchangeable fate demanded she walk toward death all the same.

She had looked around in terror—and when she saw Assassin, her whole body had started to tremble. She recognized Assassin as a Servant.

Assassin had watched as the girl stretched out her arms and, through her vacant gaze, shed silent tears. In that moment, Assassin reached for her hand. It was ice-cold, devoid of any warmth. Her face still streaked with the fluid from her birth.

She had been completely naked. Assassin could feel the chill in the air. Quietly, she removed her cloak and draped it over the girl’s body…

Assassin had been the first to see her—and the first to understand her.

“What do you think happens after we die?” the girl’s voice pulled Assassin back to the present. She didn’t respond for a long time, and even trembled slightly.

“It’s like falling asleep,” Assassin finally said. “Only… you never wake up.”

“Really?” The girl nuzzled closer into Assassin’s arms and whispered, “If that’s true… I’d like to fall asleep in your embrace forever.”

If we truly have to win this Holy Grail War—then this newborn Lesser Grail will die.

Assassin held her close, close enough to feel her heartbeat. She gently stroked the girl’s silver hair, her own heart beating far too fast.

“We’re almost there, Assassin.” Marco’s voice interrupted her thoughts. He handed her a folder.

It was some sort of newspaper—black and white, but with a strange, almost unnatural color photograph. Assassin’s eyes fell on the image of the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh.

And something inside her began to burn.

Pain surged into her skull, a blaze roaring through her mind. Assassin could feel herself slipping toward madness.

The target of her vengeance had been named—and the fury in her body began to surge, battering at her reason. But not long after, the Avenger quelled the violent emotions.

“This came from the front lines. The Servants haven’t even all been summoned, and they’re already clashing with Noble Phantasms,” Marco said, his tone grave. He used magecraft to recreate the battlefield for her.

A sky full of weapons—Noble Phantasms streaking like meteors—ending in a cataclysmic clash of divine artifacts. The aftermath resembled a massive meteor strike. The earth had been carved open, leaving a crater several kilometers wide.

Assassin saw it clearly in Marco’s eyes: fear.

Modern magi simply couldn’t comprehend the power of the Age of Gods.

—

T/N: OMG GILLLLLLLLL IS HERE????????

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!