My Fates Codex in Type-Moon

Lancer, having seized a certain chance of victory, revealed a fierce smile and kicked up the sand beneath his feet with his right leg.

Yet it was not only sand that flew into the air, but also the short spear Lancer had thrown aside earlier.

The spearhead fixed its predatory gaze on Saber. The talismans wrapped around its shaft had been undone, revealing a vivid yellow spear that radiated heart-pounding magical energy.

Though rare, history did not lack heroes famed for wielding dual spears—such as Dong Ping, the "Dual-Spear General" among the one hundred and eight outlaws of Liangshan Marsh; such as Scáthach, queen of the Land of Shadows; and such as the great hero of Celtic Mythology now contending with the Knight King.

More importantly, a Heroic Spirit's Noble Phantasms were never limited to just one.

From the very beginning, Lancer had been laying a trap.

He had openly revealed his presence, seemingly waiting for a worthy opponent. In truth, he had been a hunter lying in wait, waiting for his prey to take the bait.

The former Fianna Knight had turned his hunt toward the king of knights.

Unfortunately, it was already too late to realize it.

Saber could not stop, and Lancer's spear would not stop either.

All they could do was wait for the instant that would decide victory and defeat. Perhaps it would decide more than that—perhaps it would decide life and death.

The gale surged backward.

Life and death crossed paths.

Blood-red spider lilies bloomed brilliantly, then vanished in an instant.

The two who had exchanged positions halted and looked back.

Both stood straight, neither having lost the will to confront the other. The two Servants still remained standing.

In the instant before victory was decided, Saber had desperately shifted the trajectory of her charge ever so slightly.

As a result, the short spear that had been meant to pierce Saber's chest only punctured her left wrist. Likewise, Saber's golden sword had missed Lancer's vital point, its slashing tip striking Lancer's left wrist instead.

By coincidence, they had been wounded in the exact same place.

But had they paid the same price for those wounds?

Fuyuki Bridge, several minutes earlier.

"Let's go, kid."

Webber had been intently watching Saber and Lancer's decisive battle when he was suddenly seized by the collar and lifted bodily into the air.

"Put me down, Rider! I haven't finished watching!" Webber shouted in dissatisfaction like a child whose television had been switched off halfway through a cartoon.

"We'll see the rest when we get there." Rider, somewhat impatient, rejected his Master's request and casually tossed aside the empty bottle in his hand. "That Lancer bastard has used his trump card. He wants to end this quickly."

"No, isn't that a good thing...?"

"Idiot, what are you talking about?" Rider drew his short sword and glanced at Webber. "I intended to observe the situation until more people arrived. But at this rate, Saber may be eliminated. It'll be too late once that happens."

"Saber? But Lancer should be the one at a disadvantage, shouldn't he?" Webber said instinctively. "Lancer can't block Saber's sword!"

"You cannot reason without evidence. That would merely lead you astray, my friend." Sakutsuki gathered the empty bottles with his left hand while using his right to swap space and toss the trash bag inside. "Think carefully. What weapon did Lancer use at the beginning?"

"A weapon... wasn't it a spear? And there were two of them. Later, Lancer threw one away."

"Then where is the one he threw away?"

"It's..." Webber searched through the image, then quickly cried out in shock. "Behind Lancer—no, Lancer is moving! He's getting closer to that spear!"

"There's something wrong with that short spear!"

"Precisely." Sakutsuki nodded, strode over to the motorcycle, and put on his helmet. His voice emerged muffled.

"If that spear had been a decoy from the start, then Lancer should have thrown it farther away instead of leaving it on the battlefield as a variable."

"Besides, considering Lancer's Master, he would disdain such an unnecessary disguise."

"Don't forget, that guy openly sought out other Masters himself. Not to mention that after Lancer and Saber reached a stalemate, he ordered his Servant to use a Noble Phantasm—how could someone like that bother concealing anything?"

Amid hearty laughter, Iskandar swung his sword through the sky and summoned his thunder-roaring mount.

"Now Saber and Lancer stand before us, and those two have already set my blood ablaze. I like them very much. It would be a pity to let them die."

"How could you not let them die!? The Holy Grail War is about killing each other! Ow!"

Webber berated Rider hysterically, but his pitiful voice was interrupted by a flick to the forehead.

"Win without destroying them; rule without humiliating them. That is true conquest!"

Rider puffed out his chest and loudly proclaimed his resolve.

"Idiot, idiot, idiot! Your actions make absolutely no sense!"

"Hm? If you're unhappy, do you want to stay here and watch?"

"I'm going! You idiot, take me with you!"

"Excellent. That is what befits my Master."

Amid his booming laughter, the King of Conquerors' Noble Phantasm answered Rider's call with deafening thunder.

"Now. Charge forth, Gordius Wheel!"

The rumbling wheels sped away, while another young man remained on Fuyuki Bridge with a wry smile.

"Not even saying goodbye, and you're just leaving me here alone?"

He swung onto his seat, and the beast beneath him began to roar restlessly.

"Then again, from now on, we go from drinking companions to enemies—after all, there has only ever been one Holy Grail."

The white-haired, golden-eyed young man murmured, then twisted the handlebar and sped toward the warehouse district at a speed no less than the chariot's.

His Servant had already headed for that battlefield.

The so-called Fianna Knights were really a matter of translation. Calling them the Knights of Fianna would be about the same.

"You really are troublesome. You refuse to lose cleanly... That tenacity of yours is truly remarkable."

Lancer looked at Saber with a sorrowful smile, seemingly unconcerned by the injury where a chunk of flesh had been cut from the inside of his arm. Sure enough, Lancer's wound healed automatically as though a film were rewinding, leaving behind no trace. For a Servant's innate healing ability, that recovery speed was far too fast. It must have been healing magecraft cast by Lancer's Master, who was still hiding somewhere and watching the battle.

In contrast, Saber's refined beauty could not conceal her pain and anxiety.

"...Irisviel, please heal me as well."

"I already cast the spell! I did use it, so why...?"

Compared to the wounded Saber herself, Irisviel, supporting her from the rear, was far more flustered.

Irisviel truly was an outstanding magus. Setting aside the fact that her body itself had been a creation "designed" for Reinforcement Magecraft, there was no way she could make a mistake with something as simple as healing magecraft. Even if she somehow failed, Irisviel herself would know.

But—

"The healing magecraft definitely took effect. Saber, you should be fully restored by now."

While cautiously watching Lancer's every movement, the blonde girl stared at the injury on her left wrist. The wound itself was not serious. The problem was that the tendons in her wrist had been severed, leaving her most important finger, her thumb, unable to move. That meant she could no longer grip her sword with enough strength.

Everyone could sense Irisviel's magical fluctuations, and Saber herself knew there had been no problem with Irisviel's treatment. Yet the wound on her wrist would not heal. Her left thumb was completely motionless, as though it had been a congenital disability.

Seeing that Saber was not attacking, Lancer calmly bent down and picked up the yellow short spear from the ground with his left hand.

"You were clever enough to realize that armor cannot stop my Gae Dearg."

Lancer casually spoke the true name of his Noble Phantasm. He probably believed that since Saber already knew its effect, there was no need to conceal it any longer.

"However, discarding your armor was an error in judgment. Had you not removed it, you would have been able to block Gae Buidhe."

As he spoke, Lancer raised the crimson and vivid yellow spears high like spreading wings, assuming the exact same stance he had taken at the beginning of the battle. That posture was not meant to deceive his enemy, but was the unique fighting style this warrior had forged through harsh training.

"I see. It is a cursed spear whose wounds cannot heal. I should have noticed sooner." Saber spoke with some frustration. "The red spear that severs magic, the yellow spear of curses, and the beauty mark beneath your right eye that charms maidens—Diarmuid of the Knights of Fianna, foremost among them for his Face of Glory. I never expected to have the honor of crossing blades with you."

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne was an important figure in Celtic Mythology and the ancient Irish Gaelic tales known as the "Fenian Cycle." His legends continued to be passed down throughout Ireland.

"That is the wonder of the Holy Grail War. Still, I am the more honored one. Anyone who has crossed time and ascended to the Throne of Heroes would recognize that golden sword."

Having exposed his true name, Lancer showed no regret. Instead, he wore a refreshed expression.

"To test my skill against the famed Knight King, and even gain the upper hand... it seems heaven has not abandoned me yet."

The Knight King was King Arthur, the most famous figure in Celtic legend. Her legendary full name was Arthur Pendragon. Written in Roman letters, Arthur was "Artorius," whose feminine form was "Artoria." Given her identity as a woman, she was Artoria Pendragon. Her story, along with that of her Knights of the Round Table, was renowned throughout the world.

Of course, she was also the original poster girl of the Fate series, though her current position had been challenged by a certain red Saber and a certain idol Dragon Daughter... mutter mutter.

Knight King Artoria.

Face of Glory Diarmuid.

What an astonishing fate and encounter this was.

The shadowy Heroic Spirit standing atop the crane trembled. The ancient Hero King overlooking all from on high sneered coldly. The charging chariot crackled with brilliant lightning, while the mad beast lurking in the darkness remained silent.

And the young man racing along on his motorcycle curled his lips into a smile, golden light in his eyes illuminating the dim night.

Within this small city, heroes of old crossed paths, reunited in the modern age after spanning countless romantic epics. They pursued their dreams and lives anew, only to gather again in the future and accept the ending fate had prepared for them.

"Then, now that we know each other's names, we can finally have a proper knightly battle. Or perhaps—do you only understand after one of your hands has been pierced by me, Saber?"

"Don't make me laugh. To care about a minor wound like this would only insult me." Saber declared resolutely, once again weaving her magical energy into silver-white armor to guard against the vivid yellow cursed spear.

At the same time, the Wind Barrier gathered around her, and the golden sword vanished from sight once more.

Though she was overwhelmingly disadvantaged, there was no dejection on Saber's face. Instead, her spirit rose even higher.

Lancer wore the same expression. Both were delighted to have encountered such a worthy opponent.

One had first used one of his two Noble Phantasms, cleverly causing his opponent to lower her guard. His combat wisdom was astonishing.

The other had paid the price of one left arm to block the surprise strike of Gae Buidhe, a killing move. Her adaptability was equally impressive.

Their shared devotion to chivalry deepened the mutual respect between them.

"Prepare yourself, Saber. This time, I will win."

"That is something you can say only after I fail to win, Lancer."

While exchanging bold, provocative words, the two predicted each other's finishing moves and cautiously tested one another step by step.

Divine sword and demonic spear, ready to clash at any moment.

Then, the cold and clear pressure was shattered by a sudden, thunderous roar.

"!?"

Saber and Lancer simultaneously turned toward the southeastern sky. The source of the roar was obvious: an object that scattered crisscrossing flashes of purple lightning through the night sky as it flew straight toward them.

Irisviel voiced her astonishment.

"A chariot?"

Judging by its appearance alone, it was a classically styled two-man chariot. Harnessed to its yoke were not warhorses, but two heavily muscled, immensely strong and beautifully built bulls. Their iron hooves trod upon empty air as they pulled the lavishly decorated chariot straight ahead.

No, they were not merely floating in the air. The chariot wheels rumbled as they turned, and what the two bulls kicked beneath their hooves was not earth, but dazzling lightning.

Every time the bulls' hooves and the wheels "stamped" upon the void, purple lightning spread web-like tendrils, while booming thunder shook the air.

Such a bizarre phenomenon and such immense magical output could only be a Servant's Noble Phantasm. No one present needed to think twice to know that a third Servant had appeared, intending to intervene in Saber and Lancer's duel.

The chariot racing atop lightning circled arrogantly through the sky above Saber and Lancer, then slowed and descended to the ground. It landed directly between the two Heroic Spirits locked in confrontation, blocking both of their blades. As it touched down, the dazzling lightning receded, revealing a huge man standing imposingly on the driver's platform.

"Both sides, lower your weapons. You stand before a king!"

Carrying such immense thunderous power, the newcomer ought to have been a thunder god or a similar Heroic Spirit. Yet when one thought of a thunder god associated with bulls, the first to come to mind was the supreme god of Olympus. Naturally, that deity stood far above the level of a Heroic Spirit, so it could not possibly be him. But even if this Heroic Spirit were merely one of his followers, he would still be an immensely terrifying threat.

Every Master and Servant monitoring this battlefield made that guess.

Assassin and Assassin's Master, who had once investigated the wooded area and collected traces of Rider's clash with Sakutsuki, immediately recognized the newcomer.

"...It's him." Seeing everything through his Servant's shared senses, Kirei Kotomine, clad in a priest's robe with a troubled expression, immediately contacted his teacher, Tokiomi Tohsaka.

"Teacher, it's Rider—the Rider who fought an unknown enemy in the wooded area."