This Is My Holy Grail War [107]

Clap… clap… clap…

Applause echoed through the hall as a man standing beside the throne spoke with unabashed admiration.

“Not just the appearance, but even the attributes and aura—indistinguishable from the original. Perfectly transforming into another Servant. Truly impressive, truly impressive.” He paused, his tone turning curious. “Saber, is this your Noble Phantasm?”

Following the voice, Saber lifted her gaze. The man, who stood beside the seated Servant, appeared to be the orchestrator of the Black faction’s Holy Grail War.

“Yes.” She nodded, replying succinctly, “I’m not one for performances; I simply demonstrated my Noble Phantasm.”

“I see. A camouflage Noble Phantasm that should be used covertly, yet you’ve revealed it so openly and boldly. Even without knowing your legend, I understand. Knowing your Noble Phantasm is enough.”

Though Saber didn’t yet know the man’s name, she felt a faint sense of goodwill toward him.

“Thank you for your understanding,” Saber said with a faint exhale of relief. “Not being able to provide my true name is the most troublesome part.”

Uncomfortable with further conversation, Saber ended the discussion quickly, retreating into the shadows at the edge of the hall. In unfamiliar territory, caution was her best option.

Saber had no intention of delving deeper into relationships with these other Servants. She stood silently, listening to the others introduce themselves, careful not to entangle herself in unnecessary conflicts.

Her demeanor was aloof, avoiding interaction entirely. The [Instinct] inherited from Artoria served as her lifeline, sharpening her awareness of potential threats.

Names floated to her ears as introductions continued: Archer Chiron, Berserker Frankenstein, Lancer Vlad III… each one a figure of legend, their fame echoing through history and myth.

The gathered Servants were undoubtedly powerful heroes. Their renown and capabilities made the prospect of battling them daunting.

Even more concerning was the Caster Servant, whose preparations were well underway. The workshop’s activity suggested they could eventually mass-produce an army of golems if given enough time.

The intelligence was clear—these opponents were from the Mage’s Association, hastily organized in response to the Black faction’s readiness.

The Yggdmillennia family, however, had prepared for decades, laying a solid foundation for victory in this war.

The initial situation seemed overwhelmingly favorable. The Black faction’s superiority in strength and preparation promised victory in the factional battle.

Yet Saber was already planning ahead, preparing for the chaotic free-for-all that would inevitably follow their faction’s triumph.

Today’s strongest ally could become tomorrow’s deadliest foe. Her thoughts grew sharp with a subtle edge of killing intent as her gaze rested on the throne-bound Lancer, Vlad III.

Just then, her Master’s voice broke into her mind.

Hey, Saber… You seriously don’t have a true name? Gordes inquired through their mental link, skepticism clear in his tone. Without a legend or history, how could you possibly ascend to Heroic Spirit status?!

I truly don’t have a name, Saber replied evenly. If you insist, I can make one up for you. She added the last part with a hint of exasperation.

Are you kidding me?! Even your own Master isn’t allowed to know? Gordes’s frustration was palpable, his trust clearly wavering.

Even if revealing my weaknesses would endanger me, I would never hide them from you, Master, she assured him. However, if you doubt the summoning, then consider this: the Holy Relic was used correctly, wasn’t it?

A relic related to the Knight of the Round Table?! 

The revelation hit Saber like a wave of unwelcome clarity.

So that’s how they summoned me…

Saber sighed internally. To maintain her Master’s trust, she decided to fabricate a plausible identity.

My name is Lancelot, she declared. My Noble Phantasm allows me to transform into any hero of renown, embodying their feats and persona.

Perfect! Gordes’s relief was palpable. Now that’s more like it. I thought the relic failed, but everything’s fine. You really are the strongest knight of the Round Table.

From across the room, Saber observed Gordes in the corner, visibly relaxing as he fully accepted her explanation, not a trace of suspicion remaining.

Why is it that when I tell the truth, no one believes me, yet a lie is accepted so easily? Saber mused, wryly amused as she resigned herself to bearing Lancelot’s name once more.

Wait a second… The Round Table’s unparalleled knight is a woman? Gordes’s curiosity piqued, though he seemed to find the notion less shocking than expected. That can’t be right…

There’s a lot you don’t know, Saber retorted, her tone flat.

Then the sword in your hand must be [Arondight], correct? His voice grew louder in their mental link, a mixture of excitement and anticipation reverberating in Saber’s mind. The legendary fairy blade that once slew a dragon!

Gordes’s apparent knowledge of the Round Table knights suggested he had studied British history extensively before this war.

Saber glanced down at the elegant blade in her hand. Its intricate engravings and razor-sharp edge gleamed with a menacing brilliance.

[Durandal, The Unrivaled Sword of Renown], she thought. A weapon of eternal endurance and indestructibility, its unyielding nature akin to [Arondight]’s.

[Durandal] lacked the sheer destructive force to level armies or cities but possessed an indomitable resilience, impossible to break or dull in battle.

“Yes,” Saber affirmed softly. She knew denying it would be futile. Eventually, the weapon’s properties would convince Gordes it was [Arondight] anyway.

The truth is dismissed as falsehood, while lies are embraced as truth, Saber thought, suppressing a sigh.

This is amazing! I never imagined summoning not only the strongest knight of the Round Table but also one blessed with unparalleled wisdom! Gordes’s giddy voice echoed unabashedly in their link.

Unaware of the absurd irony, Gordes reveled in his perceived stroke of luck. Those fools have exposed their names and trump cards. But my Saber? She’s fooled them all! Hahaha!

In the shadowy corner of the hall, Gordes wore a sly grin, his delight unhidden.

Saber of great wisdom? she thought, bemused. All I did was spin a hasty lie.

—

T/N: lmaooo Gordes is too funny man NOW I WANT YURI WITH JEANNE! MORE DOOMED YURI!!!

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!