This Is My Holy Grail War [209]

Assassin, what the hell are you doing?!

Marco’s voice rang out in panic through the telepathic link. Weren’t you just supposed to scout?!

Wasn’t it you people who wanted revenge? Assassin replied coolly. You knew what summoning me would mean. All the malice of the world is searing my soul—and right now, all I can think about is hatred.

Her gaze locked onto Gilgamesh with the chill of a northern gale, sharp and unyielding. She continued, even as her eyes burned: I’m simply fulfilling the wish you made.

The pain was as vivid as if the [Gate of Babylon] were piercing her body all over again—relentless, repeating, unending.

Flesh torn, bones shattered, pain so intense it stripped away reason. This agony was worsened by the very essence of All the World’s Evils that coursed through her. She had been summoned by vengeance itself—and she didn’t mind killing her enemies. After all, to seize the Grail, she had to slay all the other Servants.

Assassin had disguised herself as a Caster not to bask in glory, but to mislead her enemies. Paired with her new Noble Phantasm, not a soul could see through her true identity. She could act without restraint—unbound by name or class.

Besides… the real Caster had yet to appear.

Scouting doesn’t mean suicide! Revenge doesn’t mean madness!

Marco’s shrill protest echoed in her mind, but Assassin only chuckled.

Hey now, I’m not mad. Her voice was casual. I’m just very, very confident.

Do you not understand? You’re going up against thousands of Noble Phantasms!

Marco was unraveling, already preparing to burn a [Command Spell]. Understandable—Gilgamesh’s power defied imagination. His golden arsenal darkened the skies, his wrath echoing like thunder in the western canyons.

The [Sword of Rupture] had frightened every Servant—but not Assassin. She taunted him openly, again and again, trying to make him draw [Ea].

Archer still has…

[Ea].

In the middle of her casual banter with her Master, Assassin changed once more. Her Noble Phantasm activated with a surge of dark light—not for glory, but for necessity.

【You have gained: A-Rank Transfiguration, A+-Rank Presence Detection, A-Rank Perfect Form.】

A golden lance burst toward her, launched from the [Gate of Babylon]. Assassin simply raised her hand and, with the holy blade [Durandal], sliced through the death line. In an instant, the high-grade Noble Phantasm was severed in two.

Fragile, she thought.

“You’re angry now, Gilgamesh,” she said, green hair fluttering gently in the storm as she smiled from atop the streetlamp.

“Mongrel…!” Gilgamesh ground his teeth.

Seeing Enkidu’s face drove the Heroic King into a frenzy. Countless treasures rained down like divine punishment, golden light tearing through the storm with the fury of a downpour.

Assassin’s form began to shift. With [Durandal] in hand, her body surged forward to meet Archer’s wrath. Her Strength, Mana, and Endurance dropped—but she pushed her Agility to A++ using [Transfiguration].

With high-level battle intuition and mastery of the sword, Assassin danced through the rain of Noble Phantasms. When evasion failed, her eyes glimmered like gems—and everything before her was reduced to rubble.

Clang!

Sparks burst through the rain. Thunder rolled overhead.

Assassin had drawn [Durandal] from [Avalon]. Sword in one hand, scabbard in the other, she stood proud on the street. She had finally leapt down from the lamp post.

Sword and sheath blurred as she deflected every single weapon with flawless precision. Then she accelerated—rushing forward in a deadly charge as Archer opened more portals to his vault.

One, two, three, four…

Countless Noble Phantasms emerged, all aimed at her.

They rained down in a brilliant, deadly cascade.

When the dust settled, the street looked like a warzone—scorched and torn. And yet Assassin walked out from the smoke, unscathed. With a flick of her sword, she scattered the steam and soot.

And again—she became Artoria.

She had tried to face [Gate of Babylon] with Enkidu’s power. But as she quickly realized, even high stats were no match for true precognition. Against Gilgamesh’s overwhelming firepower, the future sight granted by Artoria’s [Instinct] was far more effective.

“Another face again?” Archer halted his attack. He, too, may have been warned by his Master.

Stop this, now! You’re going to blow the Grail War wide open! Marco pleaded. If you don’t pull out now, it’ll be too late!

While this wasn’t a residential district, it was still part of the city. Archer hadn’t bothered hiding his attacks. They had multiple witnesses by now. Tomorrow’s news would probably report another “gas explosion.”

Rainy days and gas leaks… kind of fitting, really.

The battle raged on.

Assassin ignored Marco’s warnings. Her blades needed no secrecy. They only needed a target.

It was Archer who had to hold back.

Her strikes were precise and relentless. She didn’t care about exposing herself—she only cared about pressure. Each move, every transformation, every taunt—designed to force Gilgamesh into a mistake.

She had used her Noble Phantasm to erase her past and future, robbing Gilgamesh of [Sha Naqba Imuru]. She’d positioned Saber nearby. She provoked Archer in a public space where he couldn’t unleash his full might without breaking the masquerade. And even if he didn’t care, his Master would.

Expose the mystery—and the world would turn against them.

No matter what, tension would form between Archer and his Master.

Draw your sword. Just like last time. Draw [Ea]!

The [Command Seal] on her right hand began to glow faintly. Saber was already in position. Still, Gilgamesh hadn’t drawn his blade. They were both waiting.

I don’t believe it. I’ll put my sword right to your face—then let’s see if you still refuse!

“Enough!”

Assassin was about to strike again, sword raised—when the voice of the black-clad executer rang out, interrupting their duel.

“I beseech you both—in the name of the Grail War’s Overseer—cease this battle. This city cannot bear such suffering.”

Around them, the earth had been turned to ruin. Thankfully, this wasn’t a residential area, and most shops had already closed. There had been little human presence—and thus, minimal casualties. Still, the risk of exposure loomed. In this modern age, information spread fast. The Church could only cover up so much.

Silence fell as Assassin and Archer stared at each other.

The scene was eerie enough that the executer added another warning. “This is one of the fundamental rules of secrecy. Continue, and you’ll find yourselves at odds with every magus alive.”

“It’s he who needs to mind his secrecy. Not me,” Assassin said first, cool and composed. “I’m just wielding a sword. Even on a public street, all I’d be charged with is carrying a restricted weapon. What does the existence of mystery have to do with me?”

As if to prove her point, the magic surrounding her dissolved—not into armor, but into a clean, modest student uniform.

“See? Just a schoolgirl with a craft blade.” She sheathed [Durandal] with a shrug, her ahoge swaying playfully as she gave a devilish smile. “Legally speaking, both the Clock Tower and the mundane world are on my side.”

And then, without even unsheathing Durandal, she charged again—blade still in its scabbard.

But in the next moment, Gilgamesh was gone.

The King of Heroes hadn’t retreated—but his Master clearly lacked his boldness.

“Damn that mongrel,” Archer muttered darkly. “Using loyal counsel to make me spare the witch who dared to defile my dearest friend… damn them both.”

Assassin watched as Gilgamesh summoned his golden ark, pulling his Master aboard before soaring into the distance. The vessel moved with incredible speed—far too fast for her to pursue.

But before they vanished completely, she caught a glimpse of Archer’s Master’s hand.

Two [Command Spells] had been burned.

The plan had worked. At least partially.

Gilgamesh would never retreat from something like this—unless commanded. And judging by the cost, the version summoned this time likely had A-Rank [Magic Resistance].

From that one detail, Assassin inferred far more. She’d participated in enough Grail Wars to know the flow of everything—intimately.

“We’ll meet again, Gilgamesh.” She smiled faintly.

This time had ended in failure. But the war was far from over. Eventually, he would draw that most prideful of swords—[Ea].

And when he did… it would mark the beginning of his end.

With that thought, Assassin slowly stepped back, her figure melting into shadow.

—

T/N: that was so intimate

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!