The fire captain had long since had his relevant memories hidden under magical hypnosis. No matter how Shiki questioned him about Kaineth's whereabouts, he only stared vacantly, knowing nothing.
"Such a petty trick thinks it can stump me?"
The corners of Shiki's mouth lifted slightly, and a green glimmer flashed through his eyes as his Mystic Eyes opened instantly.
Human Path's mental power quietly seeped into the depths of the captain's hypnotically concealed memories, undoing the magical hypnosis.
In an instant, the captain's expression changed drastically. He remembered everything and seemed about to sound a warning, but before he could act, he fell under the control of Shiki's Four Seasons Magic Eye once more.
"Come on. Tell me, where was the thing taken from the Hyatt Hotel delivered?"
"Uh... that thing... it was sent to..."
Very quickly, Shiki obtained the crucial information—the thing was hidden inside a factory in an abandoned industrial park northeast of Shinto.
Shinto should have been a flourishing new urban district, filled with towering buildings and bustling traffic.
Yet in this era of economic depression and stagnation, many factories had collapsed under the strain, while countless businesses withered and died amid fierce competition, leaving behind only barren ruins.
Shiki and the Black Knight stood atop the somewhat dilapidated factory roof. The sea wind howled past with a trace of chill, making the hem of Shiki's clothes flap wildly.
"This is why, once a beautiful bubble is pierced, what it reflects is only the ugliness hidden beneath its lovely facade."
Shiki spread his arms to face the wind, as though embracing the sky before him, or perhaps lamenting the changes of the world.
Behind him, the Black Knight slowly drew his Demon Sword. Cold light flickered along its blade, and magical energy rippled faintly around its edge, as if it were growling lowly in warning of the fierce battle to come.
"Come, Sir Lancelot. Say hello to our old friend."
Shiki's voice sounded exceptionally clear amid the wind.
The Demon Sword in the Black Knight's hand rapidly gathered magical energy, yet held it back without releasing it. Still, those intense mana fluctuations were like a boulder thrown into a tranquil lake, certain to draw the attention of those inside the factory.
Sure enough, barely two seconds later, a figure appeared before Shiki like a shooting star.
The man held a Crimson Spear. He stood tall and handsome, with the same melancholy in his eyes as the Black Knight. Though his features lacked the Black Knight's cold severity, he possessed a unique charm of his own.
He was Diarmuid, who had descended as Lancer.
Seeing the pair before him, Diarmuid's eyes flashed with surprise. Their appearance had clearly caught him off guard. "Berserker, I didn't expect us to meet again so soon."
A few hours earlier, they had fought side by side on Fuyuki Bridge, joining forces to subdue Caster. Yet now Berserker had come to his doorstep filled with fighting intent.
Diarmuid did not believe this was a friendly visit.
The Black Knight fixed Diarmuid with a piercing gaze, his expression cold and his voice even colder. "Lancer, with Caster dead, our alliance has already fallen apart. You should understand that this is the Holy Grail War. In our struggle for the Holy Grail, conflict between Heroic Spirits is inevitable until the final victor is decided."
Diarmuid could not help but laugh. He tapped the butt of his crimson spear against the ground and gave a bitter smile. "That's right. I was being naive. The Holy Grail War has always been a cruel slaughter. Battle is its eternal theme."
As he spoke, the Crimson Spear in his hand trembled slightly and glimmered faintly. Powerful magical energy spilled from it, displaying its extraordinary nature.
Shiki's eyes gleamed as he looked at the spear in Diarmuid's hand. This Noble Phantasm, the Red Rose of Purgation, was exactly what he wanted.
He quietly gave the Black Knight beside him a look. The Black Knight nodded slightly, understanding at once.
The Black Knight suddenly swung his Demon Sword. The sword wind howled, and his fighting spirit soared. "Since you have already prepared yourself, Lancer, there is no need for further words. We fight until one side falls completely!"
In an instant, fighting intent and killing intent surged like raging tides. Powerful battle aura spread through the air, making even Diarmuid's body tremble slightly. It was a thirst for battle, an intense desire for victory.
Diarmuid likewise swung his spear and took an attacking stance, a confident smile rising at the corner of his mouth. "Berserker, if you want to take the life of Diarmuid, then let's see whether you have what it takes!"
The Black Knight solemnly announced his name. "Knight of Treachery, Lancelot du Lac!"
"Knights of Fianna, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne!"
Diarmuid answered loudly, refusing to be outdone.
"Let us settle this!!"
The two shouted in unison, their voices echoing through the night sky for a long while.
"Boom!"
A deafening blast erupted like thunder from the earth, and a violent current of air burst outward.
Their first strike—sword against spear—sent dazzling sparks flying through the air.
The tremendous impact sent Diarmuid flying like a kite with its string cut, hurling him straight into the factory building opposite them.
Wild power radiated from the Black Knight like a savage demonic beast. He stomped down hard, instantly collapsing the already shoddy roof beneath his feet, then charged at incredible speed toward where Diarmuid had fallen.
Immediately afterward, a dense series of metallic clashes rang out from within the factory. Air currents surged, fierce winds howled, and the remaining glass was shredded to pieces.
Only a few seconds later, Diarmuid, still holding his spear, was swept back out of the factory.
He struggled to steady himself in midair before landing lightly on the ground. Even so, that powerful impact sent him sliding more than ten meters before he barely came to a stop.
Diarmuid was filled with shock. Berserker's strength was even greater than he had imagined, like that of a demonic beast. Compared to their first battle, he was practically a different person.
Changing to a new Master had actually improved Berserker this much?
He had no time to think further, because that violent figure was already close behind him like a phantom. The power gathering in the Demon Sword made Diarmuid's heart pound in alarm.
This is bad, a Noble Phantasm release!
Diarmuid inwardly cried out in alarm.
He was all too familiar with that light. During the campaign against Caster, Berserker had regained his sanity and released his Noble Phantasm without an incantation several times.
Though it was not the Noble Phantasm's full power, it had still been enough to heavily wound the gigantic Sea Monster.
He did not possess the Sea Monster's absurd regenerative abilities. If that strike hit him, he would undoubtedly die.
Without time to think, Diarmuid ignored his unsteady footing and violently spun his spear. Borrowing its force, he shot into the sky like a red bolt of lightning, narrowly evading the Black Knight's devastating slash.
A Noble Phantasm was still a Noble Phantasm. Even without the release of its true name, its power could not be underestimated.
A deep scar was left in the ground. Looking along the direction of the attack, one could even see that a factory building in the distance had been sliced diagonally apart by that force before collapsing with a thunderous crash.
After landing, Diarmuid wore a grave expression and remained on full guard, though bitterness filled his heart.
Whether it is strength, speed, agility, or Noble Phantasms, I am behind in every respect. My chances of winning this battle are far too slim.
In that brief exchange alone, Diarmuid had clearly recognized the gap between them.
Whether in physical ability or combat technique, he was inferior to the Black Knight.
He had not previously felt Berserker's immense threat, but now that his opponent had regained his sanity, his strength had become extraordinarily formidable. He was far more oppressive than Saber, whom Diarmuid had faced before.
Lancelot truly is a terrifying opponent!
He was not the only one who felt this way. Sola, the Master watching from the side, was even more anxious.
She had originally only wanted to discuss the coming situation with Lancer and enjoy a brief moment alone with him. She had never expected an enemy to suddenly appear, much less one so powerful.
She loathed these people who had interrupted her time with Lancer.
Through the authority the Holy Grail had granted Masters, Sola could clearly observe the Black Knight's basic parameters. The rows of data made her shudder. Other than Luck and Mana being Rank B, all of his other parameters are Rank A+, while Strength and Agility have even reached A++. How could such a monster appear in the Holy Grail War? Lancer, you have to keep fighting!
Though Sola kept cheering Lancer on in her heart, she also knew that under the current circumstances, Lancer was at an absolute disadvantage.
Standing on the roof, Shiki could likewise observe Lancer's basic parameters.
He chuckled. "Heh, Lancer's only highest-ranking parameter is Agility, and even that is merely an A+ enhanced by amplification. What can he possibly use to compare with Sir Lancelot?"
It was not only his basic parameters. In martial skill, Lancer was also far inferior to the Black Knight.
Infinite Martial Prowess, the complete unity of mind, skill, and body, was not something just anyone could master.
And when it came to Noble Phantasms, Lancer's were even more insignificant compared to the Black Knight's.
To any Master, the outcome of this battle seemed to hold no suspense whatsoever.
Kaineth, seated in his wheelchair, watched the battlefield with an extremely unpleasant expression. "This is bad. If this continues, Lancer will certainly die!"
Before you continue