Ahead of Assassin lay a pitch-black alley, a shadowy abyss devoid of light. It looked like the gates of hell, but to Assassin, it was a stairway to paradise.
Weaving through the city’s narrow corners, Assassin mimicked Lancer’s earlier nimble movements. She dared not sprint at full speed, conserving what little stamina she had left.
The scarcity of mana made even breathing a laborious task. Behind her, the continuous sounds of crashing walls and exploding debris urged her forward. Berserker was relentlessly closing in, smashing through obstacles like a force of nature.
If a wall blocked his view, he tore it down. If debris stood in his way, he charged through it. If the terrain proved insurmountable, Berserker leapt over it like a beast, his eyes locked on Assassin without a moment’s hesitation.
Berserker moved without regard for concealing his presence or preserving the land. Like a derailed locomotive, he left nothing but destruction in his wake.
The sounds grew louder. Dust and debris filled the air as the distance between them rapidly shrank.
Sweat drenched Assassin’s back as the sensation of death pressed closer and closer.
Boom!
A nearby wall collapsed under Berserker’s charge.
Assassin risked a glance back—Berserker was almost upon her. She leapt onto a rooftop in a desperate bid to escape.
“AAAAAAHHHH!”
As he approached, Berserker drew his cursed blade, [Arondight].
The mere sight of the “Unfading Light of the Lake” filled Assassin with a sense of oppressive dread. The aura it emitted was even more suffocating than when she had faced Archer.
Kariya’s command was clear: Berserker was to kill Assassin at all costs. There were no restrictions, no limitations on his actions. When Berserker unsheathed his Noble Phantasm, Kariya’s madness seemed to intensify.
“Kill her, Berserker! KILL HER! Charge at her, now!” Kariya bellowed, his voice raw and frenzied.
The Crest Worms eating away at Kariya’s body left him in constant agony, robbing him of the ability to think clearly. His mind, consumed by hatred and despair, could no longer distinguish between friend and foe, or right and wrong.
When Berserker drew his sword, Kariya felt his chest seize as if his heart had been struck. But even that pain didn’t stop him from demanding Berserker’s relentless pursuit.
Berserker didn’t wield [Arondight] as a sword or a blade—it became a brutal axe in his hands.
With a mighty leap, he brought the sword down in a devastating overhead strike.
Assassin could only watch as Berserker became a shadowy blur, soaring high into the air. In her mind’s eye, she foresaw the building collapsing beneath his tremendous blow.
Panicked, she tumbled off the rooftop, her body crashing to the cold, hard ground below.
Pain shot through her.
It hurts…
Assassin clenched her teeth, forcing herself to stand.
The world around her was spinning. Her ears rang, muting every sound. She could barely make out the silhouette of Berserker emerging from the rubble.
Though his appearance was disheveled, the power emanating from [Arondight] gave Assassin a glimmer of hope.
Berserker had unsheathed his Noble Phantasm, but that act came at a cost. If she could just endure a little longer…
Desperation drove her into another house, but Berserker charged after her, tearing through walls like a bulldozer.
Yet each time he smashed through a building, his approach slowed ever so slightly.
Berserker’s unchecked rampage was burning through his mana reserves at an alarming rate. But Kariya, blinded by rage, made no effort to stop him.
Assassin ran with everything she had, even as the blurred vision of civilians catching glimpses of her and Berserker flickered past. There was no time to worry about secrecy—survival was her only priority.
Closer… and closer…
Assassin’s depleted mana left her dizzy, her vision clouded. When she glanced back, she couldn’t even make out Berserker’s form—just an indistinct black shadow.
One of Berserker’s blows landed near her, sending a shockwave that flung her to the ground.
The attack had missed, but the sheer force of the impact had nearly killed her.
She couldn’t hold out any longer. If she had been in her prime, she could have lasted several more minutes. But now, it was too late.
Assassin knew the end had come. She stubbornly pushed herself upright, though her back remained hunched.
The night breeze felt icy against her skin. It was all she could feel now.
Her body was shutting down, her limbs refusing to obey. Berserker loomed ever closer, [Arondight] shining with a blinding light. His magical energy surged chaotically, but his steps grew slower and heavier, as if deliberate.
He raised the cursed sword high, poised to deliver the final blow. But just as the blade descended, it stopped mere inches above her head.
The time Assassin had bought herself had not been in vain. Berserker’s relentless assault and use of his Noble Phantasm had drained an enormous amount of mana, leaving both him and Kariya on the verge of collapse.
Kariya’s final command echoed through the air, ordering Berserker to sever Assassin’s head.
But at the last moment, the black knight defied his Master.
He refused to strike down his king.
The gleaming edge of [Arondight] hovered above Assassin as she mustered the last of her strength, thrusting the broken sword hilt toward Lancelot.
Logically, her strike should never have pierced Berserker’s armor. But to her surprise, it did.
Was it because Lancelot had no intention of defending himself? Or had his depleted mana left him vulnerable?
Assassin didn’t know. Her thoughts felt sluggish, her mind too dulled to analyze the situation.
From the start, Kariya may have wanted to kill Assassin, but Berserker’s true wish had always been for King Arthur to deliver his final punishment.
“I see, my king… You’ve finally decided to judge me,” Berserker murmured, his voice regaining clarity amidst the madness. “Why didn’t you express your fury back then? I wanted you to condemn me… with your own hands.”
As life faded from his body, Berserker abandoned his contract with Kariya. His connection to the Berserker class dissolved, freeing him from the curse of madness.
“I’m sorry, Lancelot,” Assassin whispered.
I’m not King Arthur. Those words were on the tip of her tongue but remained unspoken.
“My king… Even though it was my failure, you still blame yourself,” Lancelot said, his voice heavy with guilt. “The one who should seek atonement is me. I believe… one day, I’ll find a way to forgive myself… And the queen… I hope she will too.”
His voice grew weaker, but a faint smile lingered on his face.
“To die in the arms of my king, before their eyes… Ha… How fitting, that in my final moments, I resemble a loyal knight…”
With that, Lancelot’s wish was fulfilled, and he passed without regret.
As his form faded, the shattered helm revealed his handsome face, now illuminated by moonlight. He collapsed into Assassin’s arms, his body dissipating into particles of light.
“Though this was not what I expected, I’ll accept your gift… Thank you, Lancelot,” Assassin murmured.
[You have successfully eliminated a participant in the Holy Grail War.
[You have gained one attribute point.]
[You have secured a victory and earned a ticket for the next Holy Grail War.]
The system’s voice rang in her mind, momentarily lifting her spirits. Ignoring her fatigue, she began to leave the battlefield.
Instead of returning to Kirei’s workshop, she collapsed onto a rooftop and drifted into sleep.
Servants didn’t need rest, as their bodies were constructs of mana. But Assassin was utterly exhausted—her very soul demanded respite.
Even in sleep, Artoria’s intuition remained active, allowing Assassin a rare moment of peace. Only then could she truly rest.
—
T/N: LANCELOTTTTT YOU TRULY ARE A KNIGHT
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!
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