Master of Self-Destruction Assassin

The atmosphere of the banquet fell into a stalemate for a moment.

The Knight King and her most outstanding knight, their gazes locked with equally strong wills, sipped fine wine. The King of Heroes wore a malicious smile as if enjoying a show. The King of Conquerors, after hesitating to speak, could only sigh and shake his head in resignation. And the Masters who were not present—Irisviel, watching her Servant with concern, and Weber, surprisingly focused on the dispute—all remained frozen in place as if under a paralysis spell.

Though, in reality, everyone's inner thoughts were likely quite rich and colorful.

The situation, and the only way to break this stalemate, was caused by Saber and Berserker. After Saber finally uttered that forbidden phrase—"Blood-stained Sunset Hill"—their argument had escalated from a debate of principles to something far deeper.

While the end of a king was indeed regrettable, were the epics created by knights together merely things that could be negated by the outcome alone?

The answer was certainly yes, but whether one could convince the other was unknown.

The others, whether out of respect, their own malicious amusement, or lack of qualification to speak, all waited in silence for the two to make their decision.

Perhaps they might have continued staring at each other until the end of the Holy Grail War, had a group of black figures not come to disrupt the scene…

***

The Flower-like Death Project Excellent Competition Player Assassin Appears

"Archer, you did this, didn't you?"

"Who knows? I have no need to concern myself with the thoughts of mongrels."

"Ara ara, what a shame Caster isn't here."

"What does that have to do with that awful woman, Rider?"

"She's been complaining these past few days that Assassin is too elusive, like a rat hiding away. If so many have come at once, she'll surely be delighted."

Although their entrance grabbed everyone's attention and the timing was quite subtle, unfortunately, after Jizi's spoilers, Assassin no longer held any deterrence or threat for those present. Even the Queen Consort was calmly and coolly jealous of the Emperor, complaining that her man was always mentioning "other women" in front of her.

Thinking about it, it was understandable. Being constantly bombarded with phrases like "These faithless rats," "They were weak to begin with and now they're splitting their forces," "Heh, they sensed my presence and ran? They've completely disgraced the Brotherhood!", and "Only two were taken down today, what a shame..." meant that Assassin had already been branded as "weak, very weak, quite weak, pathetically weak" by Jizi's allies. After watching the video of "Step-by-Step Guide to Killing Assassin" filmed with Jizi's special camera techniques, even the Queen Consort felt she could take down one or two if the conditions were right.

As for Saber's side, due to Jizi's relentless monster-slaying, the number of Assassins had significantly decreased. Although their full mobilization this time was quite imposing, for Miss Artoria, one "Excalibur" would surely wipe them all out without any pressure. However, doing so would be a bit of a waste, so she wouldn't use it unless absolutely necessary. But she certainly wasn't afraid of these dark figures.

Archer, on the other hand, must have been thinking "It's all Tokiomi's fault" now, as his enjoyable spectacle was ruined, and the reputation of the King of Heroes was tarnished by the presence of assassins at a banquet where he was the host.

And these Assassins, after being intensely observed and then left alone, naturally felt a great sense of emptiness and loneliness, wanting to assert their presence. Among them, the tall woman with purple hair drew her dagger and locked her killing intent onto the two Masters present. Although Irisviel and Weber rationally understood they were not in any danger, the killing intent of the Servants still made them, as humans, feel uncomfortable all over.

However, at this tense moment, Rider's rough and hearty voice suddenly rang out, suppressing the imminent conflict with a certain magical quality:

"Everyone, if you've come to attend the feast, please restrain your ghastly auras. This is hardly the way to treat guests."

Saber, shielding her friend behind her, frowned displeasedly upon hearing this: "Do you intend to invite them to join us, King of Conquerors?"

"Of course," Rider scooped a large ladle of red wine from his wine barrel and offered it to the Assassins. "Didn't I say it before? A king's words should be heard by all his people. Since someone has specifically come, it doesn't matter if they are enemies or friends."

"Come, don't be shy. If you wish to drink, come and get your cups. This wine is the same as your blood!"

The response to Rider's enthusiastic invitation was the sound of air being torn apart. A silver-white blade flashed, and the wine barrel and its handle separated, falling to the ground. The wine spilled onto the courtyard floor.

"..."

Completely unaware that they had just performed an action that ranked among the top three highest-scoring feats in even a "Flower-like Death" event on a multiversal scale, the Assassins, seeing Rider looking speechlessly at the wine on the ground, let out mocking laughter.

If Jizi were here, she would surely exclaim, "Heaven's wrath can be forgiven, but self-inflicted misfortune is beyond redemption. The ancients truly did not lie," and so on. Such high-level self-destruction was something even the author wouldn't dare attempt, let alone her!

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

Rider's tone remained calm, but the feeling behind it had clearly changed. The first to notice this change were the two who had been drinking with him earlier.

"I said, 'This wine' is the same as 'your blood,' correct? Since you so casually let it spill on the ground, then I shall..."

Before he could finish speaking, a whirlwind roared to life.

The wind was hot and dry, as if it would burn everything. This was not the wind of a forest at night, nor the wind that should be in the castle courtyard—this wind seemed to come from a desert, roaring in their ears.

Feeling sand in his mouth, Weber quickly spat it out. It was indeed sand, brought by the wind—hot sand that shouldn't have been there.

"Little girl bound by 'correctness,' the knight tormented by his own conscience, and the King of Heroes, the oldest of them all, why don't you listen to this King's final question!"

Within the unknown hot wind that eroded the present reality, Rider's large red cloak billowed on his shoulders.

"—Is a King, lonely!"

Archer let out a disbelieving laugh, likely deeming the question unnecessary to answer.

"A King..." Saber's reply was without hesitation, but she avoided Berserker's gaze at the last moment. "Of course, he is lonely!"

Was this the expected answer? The disappointment on the face of the Knight of the Lake only lasted for a moment before being replaced by determination.

"Your Majesty..."

The gale and Rider's booming laughter drowned out the knight's subsequent words, and the surrounding environment seemed to respond to the laughter, transforming in a way that defied everyone's perception.

"Still not enough! Let me teach you today what a true king is!"

Everything that the dry, fierce wind swept over had changed.

"H-how can this be..."

Weber and Irisviel exclaimed in astonishment... This was a phenomenon that only those who could use magic could understand.

"It's a... Reality Marble?!"

The sun scorching the earth, the clear sky for miles, the horizon blurred by sand. There were no obstructions within sight.

The Einzbern night had changed in an instant, undoubtedly indicating it was merely an illusion encroaching upon reality. It could be said that this was the limit of magic, which could be called a miracle.

"How is this possible... To materialize the scene in your heart... You're not a magus, are you!?"

"Of course not. How could I possibly manage this alone?"

Iskandar, standing tall within the vast bounded field, denied it with a proud laugh.

"This is the land my army once traversed. The brave warriors who shared my hardships imprinted this scenery firmly in their hearts."

As the world shifted, the six people who had been surrounded were repositioned.

The Assassins, who had formed a circle, were moved to one side. Rider stood in the center, while Saber, Archer, Berserker, and the two mages were on the other side. In other words, Rider stood alone before the Assassins.

—Could it be that Rider was going to fight alone?

Everyone's eyes widened as they stared at the mirage-like images appearing around him. One, two, four – the images gradually increased, resembling an army. Their colors also grew more vivid.

"This world can be recreated because it is imprinted in each of our hearts."

Amidst the astonished gazes, materialized cavalrymen began to appear around Iskandar. Though their races and equipment varied, their powerful physiques and valiant bearing all showcased the might of an army.

Only one person understood what was happening in this bizarre scene.

"These people... are all Servants..."

As the only Master present, he understood that the true trump card of the Servant Iskandar, his ultimate Noble Phantasm, was manifesting before him.

"Behold, my peerless army!"

Filled with pride and self-satisfaction, the King of Conquerors stood before the cavalry ranks, raising both arms and shouting.

"Even though their physical bodies were destroyed, their heroic spirits were summoned. They are the legendary, loyal warriors of mine. My eternal friends who have answered my call across time and space.

They are my most treasured possessions! They are my path as a king! Iskandar's strongest Noble Phantasm—'Army of the King'!!"

An anti-army Noble Phantasm of EX rank, the continuous summoning of independent Servants.

There was a god of war, a Mahārāja king, and founders of past dynasties. Gathered before them were unique heroic spirits, only heard of in legends.

All of them possessed illustrious reputations—they were all warriors who had fought alongside the great Iskandar.

A riderless horse galloped towards Rider. It was a spirited, powerfully built steed. If it were human, its imposing presence would surely not be inferior to any other heroic spirit.

"It's been a while, partner."

Rider laughed like a child and hugged the horse's neck. It was evident that "she" was Bucephalus, later known as a legendary steed. Even the horse had become a heroic spirit by standing by the King of Conquerors.

Everyone else was too stunned to utter another sound. Even Archer, who possessed an EX-class super Noble Phantasm, no longer scoffed after witnessing such a radiant army.

Heroes who rode alongside their king on the battlefield, gambling their kingly dreams.

Loyalty that did not end even in death, the King of Conquerors had transformed this into an exceptional Noble Phantasm.

Saber was shaken, not by the power of his Noble Phantasm, but because it had shaken her own proud convictions.

This perfect support—

The bond between a Noble Phantasm and its vassals—

Something she had never obtained in her life as a Knight King pursuing ideals—

"Your Majesty! Arthur!"

Sensing Saber's wavering, Berserker urgently called her name, but the Knight King, in a state of extreme shock, did not react.

She kept staring at the figure astride Bucephalus.

"A king—must live more truthfully than anyone else—must inspire admiration!"

"The one who gathers the conviction of all heroes and embarks on an expedition with it as their goal is a king. Therefore—"

"A king is not solitary. For his aspiration is the wish of all his subjects!"

"Precisely! Precisely! Precisely!"

The heroic spirits' proud shouts soared through the sky. No enemy or barrier posed a threat before the King of Conquerors and his companions. Their high morale could traverse the land and cleave the oceans.

Therefore, the Assassins were no more than clouds and mist before them.

"Alright, let's begin, Assassins."

Rider's smiling eyes were filled with ferocity and cruelty. He no longer wished to show any mercy to those who ignored his words and refused his offered wine.

"As you can see, the battlefield I've materialized is a plain. I apologize, but if it's about winning through numbers, I have the advantage."

Can't find the book title? Try searching for the author, maybe the name has changed!

At this moment, the Assassins had forgotten the Holy Grail, forgotten their mission of victory and curses. They had lost themselves.

Some fled, some cried out in despair, and others stood frozen in place—the disorganized skull-masked figures were truly just a rabble.

"TRAMPLE THEM!"

Rider commanded without hesitation. Then—

"AAAALaLaLaLaLaie!!"

A tremendous roar answered him. The invincible army that had once swept across Asia once again shook the battlefield.

This could no longer be called a fight; "annihilation" would be a more fitting term.

Even grinding mustard seeds with a millstone would elicit a greater reaction than this.

"The Army of the King" left no trace of Assassin behind; only the faint scent of blood and stirred-up dust remained in the air.

"—Hooah!!"

Cheers of victory erupted. The heroic spirits, offering their triumph to the King and extolling his might, returned to their spiritual forms and vanished into the distance.

Subsequently, the barrier sustained by their combined magical energy was dispelled. Everything shattered like bubbles, the scenery reverted to the night it was, and the few individuals found themselves standing once more in the courtyard of Einzbern Castle.

The pure white moonlight bathed the area in silence, with not a speck of dust visible in the air.

The four Servants and two Masters returned to their original seats and raised their cups again. The Assassins were nowhere to be seen; only the broken handle of a ladle, severed by a dagger, served as proof of what had just transpired.

"—How disappointing."

Rider murmured nonchalantly, draining the remaining wine in his cup. Saber offered no reply, while Archer let out a scornful laugh with a look of dissatisfaction.

"Indeed, no matter how weak the mongrels, even a King would have exerted considerable effort facing so many at once—Rider, you truly are an eyesore."

"Let me be clear, I will clash with you one way or another."

Rider laughed, unfazed, and stood up.

"We've both said what we needed to say. Let's call it a night."

But Saber was still bothered by Rider's earlier words and refused to let it go.

"Wait, Rider, I haven't—"

"Silence."

Rider cut off Saber's words with a forceful tone.

"Tonight is a banquet for kings, but Saber, I do not acknowledge you as a king."

"Are you still trying to mock me, Rider?"

Saber's tone showed impatience, but Iskandar merely looked at her with pity. He drew the Sword of Alexander and swung it through the air. With a flash of lightning, a divine bull chariot appeared with a roar. Though not as grand as the "Army of the King," it was enough to capture attention.

"Hurry up, brat, get on."

"..."

"Hey, brat?"

"—Ah? Ah, yes..."

Ever since witnessing the Assassins' effortless defeat with his own eyes, Weber's heart had been shrouded in a strange shadow. It was understandable, given it was the first time he had seen such an extraordinary Noble Phantasm. Moreover, it was the strength of his own Servant, something he had only witnessed for the first time today.

As Weber, with unsteady steps, mounted the chariot, Iskandar cast one last glance at Saber and spoke with sincerity:

"Listen here, young lady, you should wake up from your painful dream as soon as possible. Otherwise, one day, you will lose even the most basic pride of a hero—what you call 'King' is merely a curse you've placed upon yourself."

"No, I—"

Ignoring Saber's final retort, the lightning-flashing chariot soared into the sky. In the end, only the sound of thunder remained in her ears as the chariot disappeared into the eastern sky.

"..."

Facing Rider, who refused to listen to Saber until the very end, a sense of humiliation was natural. But what Saber couldn't let go of at that moment was an inexplicable "anxiety."

No righteousness, no ideals, just a tyrant pushing violence to satisfy selfish desires. Yet, even so, there were loyal subjects willing to forge an unbreakable bond with him.

This contradicted the Knight King's principles, and she couldn't accept such a belief.

But Saber couldn't simply dismiss Iskandar's words as a joke and forget them. There was a sense of unwillingness to let these words stand, a lingering resentment—it was these words that gnawed at Saber.

"You don't need to pay him any mind, Saber. Just stick to the path you believe in."

It was Archer, who had been mocking her earlier, who interjected. Hearing his inexplicably encouraging words, Saber replied coldly.

"You were just mocking me, and now you want to flatter me, Archer?"

"Of course, the path of kings you speak of is perfectly correct, without a single flaw. What a heavy burden that must be for your frail body. This distress, this entanglement... it truly makes one want to offer comfort."

With a composed appearance and a deep voice, his expression and tone still concealed infinite malice and desire.

As long as this golden Servant was before her, Saber would not harbor a shred of doubt. Unlike Rider, with whom communication was possible, Archer was simply an unforgivable enemy.

"Continue to suffer playing the clown on the righteous path you speak of, Saber. I quite enjoy it. Saber, bring me more joy, and perhaps I'll bestow the Holy Grail upon you as a reward?"

The white jade wine cup shattered in Archer's hand.

"Rider has left, the banquet is over—Archer, either leave immediately or draw your sword."

Though unseen, Saber's swung treasure sword emitted a powerful pressure. Archer, whose cup had been shattered, remained unfazed, whether due to his extraordinary courage or extreme foolishness. It could only be one of the two.

"Oh dear, do you know how many nations were destroyed for this cup? —Never mind, punishing you is pointless. Getting angry over a clown's lapse in judgment would tarnish a king's honor."

"You shut your mouth. My warning is only once—next time, I will undoubtedly cut you down without mercy."

Archer, unbothered by Saber's reprimand, stood up with a smile.

"Keep up the good work, Knight King. Sometimes, I find you quite charming. As for the mad dog beside you, the next time we meet..."

As these final words fell, Archer dematerialized into a spiritual form and vanished. The courtyard, no longer illuminated by golden light, seemed to awaken as if from a dream, leaving only emptiness.

"Your Majesty..."

"What, are you going to mock me too, Sir Lancelot?"

"Hmph..." Seeing that her King was emotionally unstable, Berserker could only let out a sigh in the end.

"Your Majesty, how I wish I wasn't summoned as Berserker, but as your knight, to become your Noble Phantasm and fight alongside you on the battlefield."

The Knight of the Lake's body scattered into a blue spiritual light.

Knowing that words could not persuade the King, he had already resolved to offer counsel in the way of a knight.

And the original meaning of a knight was simply a lance and a sword.

--- A Rooftop ---

"Heh heh, no-zuo-no-die, why-you-try. The ancients truly did not deceive me."

Holding down a black figure, Jizi laughed with wicked amusement.

"You say those words weren't spoken by the ancients? Don't get too caught up in the details~~"

Actually, this was just a rhetorical question, because there was no one present who could answer her—that black guy had already lost consciousness.

"Tear!"

She reached out and tore off the white skull mask covering the person's face. The reason it was called tearing was because the mask was originally sewn to the flesh with steel needles, a design intended to prevent it from being removed. Now, with its forced destruction, the horror of the facial wounds could be imagined without further explanation.

Yet, even such pain did not elicit a single groan or struggle from the person.

"It seems that after most of its spiritual foundation was destroyed, the remaining vessel is no longer sufficient to maintain the concept of 'Servant.' This means that they are effectively crippled if not all are killed, but only a few remain."

That body belonged to an Assassin. After leaving Kiritsugu Emiya, Jizi had ambushed the mandatory route to Einzbern Castle. She took advantage of the Assassins traveling in a group to ambush them from behind, kidnapping one of them and cutting off its connection to its other manifestations.

The purpose of doing this—

"Although each fragment is quite weak after being dispersed into so many parts, they still bear the title of Heroic Spirit, and their mystery is quite high, making it difficult to tamper with them~"

A new mask covered the Assassin's bloody and mangled face.

"But after being declared 'dead,' it becomes much easier to do whatever I want, heh~ heh~"

Red patterns instantly spread across the Assassin's entire body. As the flow of magic within intensified, the mask gradually merged into the head of the body.

Jizi's body became increasingly transparent until it finally disappeared into the night sky.

"A male body after a long time, not bad, not bad. Let me have some fun with it before it expires."

The "dead" Assassin stood up as if regaining consciousness. "He" stiffly moved his joints and performed a few backflips. The wounds on his face, which had disappeared at some point, now showed a new set of features. When "he" spoke, the voice was the same as Jizi's from before.

"Hmm, it's not that I'm prejudiced against black people, but this dark skin is still annoying. I should cover it up first, and I'll deal with it later when I'm putting on a show."

Conjuring a Brotherhood robe and putting it on, Jizi, controlling the Assassin's body, leaped forward—

"Leap of Faith!"

If I said this chapter wasn't copy-pasted, you definitely wouldn't believe me... and I don't believe it either. However, it's definitely not a direct copy of the original work! Many details have been modified—though I'm sure very few people will read it carefully.

I won't copy the part where Irisviel comforts Saber later to pad the word count, as it's been discussed countless times anyway.

Also, although Jizi can change her face, the extent of the change is limited, and she cannot alter her body shape. Therefore, she had to occupy an existing one.

As for what she'll do with the occupied body? It's definitely not about experiencing having a penis again and self-pleasuring... Ouch, who threw a fireball at me?... Could it be that I accidentally hit upon the truth?

Finally, this is truly the last update before July...

If you can't find the book by its title, try searching for the author. Perhaps they just changed their name!