This Is My Holy Grail War [115]

“Excellent, Saber! You saved him.” Caster’s voice trembled slightly, his elation unmistakable even behind his mask. “He is the critical core of my Noble Phantasm. Without him, I’m finished. Thank you so much.” His relief radiated so strongly it reached Saber without need for words.

“You’re welcome,” Saber replied curtly, her tone neutral. She cared little for the life of the homunculus, even if his plight reminded her faintly of herself. In the end, he was a stranger—nothing more.

“Shall I take over from here, Saber?” Caster probed cautiously, his eagerness tempered by an effort not to offend her.

“Do as you wish.” Saber nodded indifferently. “He’s yours by right. I only saved him. Whatever this ‘important matter’ is, I hope it’s worth our time.”

From the start, Caster had spared no effort. The homunculus was evidently irreplaceable in some specific way, though Saber couldn’t discern his purpose. He seemed no different from the artificial beings created by the Einzbern family, each with their own unique will.

Saber dematerialized, her spirit form vanishing into the chaotic forest. Around her, attention fixated on the homunculus, disrupting the rhythm of all the Servants who had been preoccupied with their tasks.

Once the situation was under control, Saber retrieved her book, intending to resume her reading. However, as she re-entered her workshop, she was immediately interrupted again.

“Saber, pursue them!” Gordes barked through their connection. “Catch that homunculus!”

Before Saber could respond, the battlefield shifted once more as a new combatant entered the fray.

Rider of Red appeared boldly before all, seemingly intent on covering the retreat of Berserker and the homunculus. He displayed no hesitation, his confidence blazing like a signal fire.

Not content to merely defend, Rider of Red issued a direct challenge to Saber. “So, Saber,” he said with an air of arrogance. “I hear you’ve been marked as a rival by that Lancer. I’d like to see for myself what caught his attention!”

As soon as Saber materialized from spirit form, Rider’s expression soured. His attention veered away from her striking visage, landing instead on her sword, [Durandal].

“Saber, that sword of yours… Just looking at it pisses me off,” Rider growled, the veins on his forehead bulging. “How did you snatch it from his hands?” His disdain was palpable.

Saber, unfazed and uninterested, ignored Rider’s outburst. There was no need to waste words; she’d settle this with her blade.

“Ah, can’t understand me, can you?” Rider sighed theatrically. “Well, it’s ancient history anyway. You’re too young to know these things.” He turned, addressing the other Servants nearby. “What about the rest of you? Is Saber the only one coming? Or do you all plan to gang up on me? Don’t think I can’t take it!”

Rider’s taunts were deliberately provocative, but Saber remained calm. His confidence was too absolute—there had to be a reason behind it.

Could it be a Noble Phantasm, something like a trap? Saber wondered.

When Rider noticed her hesitation, he smirked. “What’s wrong, Saber? Are you scared? Coward.”

Saber finally spoke. “Your class is Rider. Where’s your mount?”

“For a mere swordswoman like you? I don’t need it!” Rider snapped, charging forward. “If you won’t make the first move, then I will!”

Rider’s opening strike was ferocious. Despite abandoning his mount, his lance skills rivaled even those of Lancers like Cu Chulainn. His strength exceeded Saber’s, and his agility matched hers—a rare feat. In another Holy Grail War, his reckless choice to fight a swordsman without a mount would have been suicidal. But his exceptional prowess turned the tide.

Blue light flashed as Rider’s lance cut through the shadows, clashing with [Durandal]. Saber felt the shock of his strength pressing against her blade. His sheer power eclipsed even Karna’s. She braced herself, dragging her heels across the earth, her feet carving deep furrows in the dirt as she absorbed the impact.

Unwilling to yield, Saber unleashed her magic, flooding herself with energy. Azure flames wreathed her figure, her strength surging.

CLANG!

With a ferocious swing, Saber’s blade collided with Rider’s lance, sending him flying with a burst of sparks and force. Dirt and dust filled the air, the impact echoing like a thunderclap.

Saber sensed a disturbance. Her intuition flared, warning of arrows streaking toward her. Three projectiles—one aimed straight ahead, the others targeting her flanks—forced her to retreat and dodge.

The center arrow was split cleanly in two by Durandal, while the others whizzed harmlessly past.

Saber’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the dim forest. An Archer is hiding nearby.

“Thanks for the assist, big sis,” Rider called out to his unseen ally before turning back to Saber. “For a petite thing, you’ve got surprising strength. I’ll give you that.”

From a distance, Lancer of Black observed the unfolding skirmish, issuing orders. “Berserker, assist Saber. Eliminate the enemy Archer!” He recognized that the Rider of Red wouldn’t be acting alone—this was a calculated move to probe their defenses.

Saber refocused on Rider. The battle had shifted into a strategic rhythm. Though experienced and pragmatic, Saber’s every move came from relentless real-world training. Her sword style was refined through countless battles, each strike precise and deadly.

“You’re not bad,” Rider acknowledged, gripping his lance with both hands. “Looks like I’ll need to take this a bit more seriously.”

Lance and blade clashed once again, their conflict tearing through the forest. Trees splintered, and dirt scattered underfoot. Rider’s technique was masterful, flawless even under Saber’s relentless offensive.

Saber noticed something peculiar. During one exchange, her blade managed to leave a faint scratch on Rider, only to find that it hadn’t pierced his defenses. He possessed a defensive Noble Phantasm that rivaled Heracles’ Twelve Labors.

Then, a message from Gordes interrupted her thoughts. Saber, Rider is the hero Achilles from Greek mythology. His weak point is his heel, and only attacks imbued with divinity can bypass his defenses.

Saber pondered this revelation. Divinity… I see. So that’s what I need to exploit.

As she considered her options, Rider’s taunts continued. “What’s wrong? Is that all you’ve got?” His mocking grin irritated her, but she refused to lose focus.

Without hesitation, Saber formulated a strategy. If divinity is the key, then I’ll attack with the highest level of divinity I can muster.

Among her forms, she eliminated Karna’s due to his potential curse disrupting her efforts. That left her with one choice: Heracles.

Saber’s stance shifted, her grip on [Durandal] steady. In the dim forest light, the blade glinted coldly, an unspoken promise of destruction.

Rider remained smug. “Come on, then! Show me what you’ve got.”

As Saber closed in, her body began to transform. Her petite frame expanded, golden hair darkened and coarsened, and her muscles swelled. The shift was monstrous, her armor vanishing as her physique grew into a towering mass of muscle and might.

Rider realized too late what was happening.

SLASH!

Blood sprayed across the battlefield, staining Rider’s garments. His armor shattered, and a grimace of shock crossed his face.

Then, to Saber’s surprise, his expression twisted into exhilaration. “Now this… this is more like it!” Rider grinned, even as blood dripped from his wound.

—

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!