Robin Hood

The raging gale vanished, and the battle from before felt like a dream.

No, if it had been a dream, it probably would not have felt so real, would it?

Tsukahara Meiji's back was damp, his clothes clinging to him like mud—cold and disgusting. Though he had kept his mind calm through the crisis, it seemed his body had not been entirely under his brain's control. Cold sweat flowed like water, slowly yet steadily soaking through his undershirt and spreading outward.

The body's reactions did not lie.

His powerless body slumped onto the ground. The cold, damp sensation unique to the early morning seeped into his backside, while the sudden release of tension brought exhaustion so intense that every sensation in his body nearly collapsed.

And yet...

Beside Tsukahara Meiji lay Carl, sprawled on the ground and letting out faint groans.

All around them, the turf and trees had been ravaged by the storm. Branches and leaves had snapped, earth had been churned up. The marks of destruction were so real that Tsukahara Meiji could not possibly ignore them.

They were the traces of battle, obvious at a glance.

(The Holy Grail... War...)

"Ah... haha... A war... Did I, did I survive?"

Only then did Tsukahara Meiji finally understand what he had done.

It was like someone repeatedly emphasizing the pain of being burned by fire, yet being unable to truly understand it until they had been burned by flames themselves...

Once the danger had passed, fear became a prehistoric beast that swallowed the human named Tsukahara Meiji whole beneath the pitch-black night. A chill colder than the night wind sent pain spreading through every part of his body.

Terrifying...

Horrifying...

He could not stop shaking...

Tsukahara Meiji curled into a pathetic ball.

"So—you are my Master?"

The girl's voice stirred Tsukahara Meiji's eardrums again...

A girl?

Ah! A Heroic Spirit!

Archer!

Only then did his dark eyes focus on the person before him.

She was a slender young girl.

She looked no more than sixteen or seventeen, even younger than Tsukahara Meiji. The soft lines of her cheeks were shrouded in shadow, making her features difficult to discern. The reason was simple: she was enveloped in a deep green hooded cloak that nearly blended into the forest. Beneath it, he could barely make out her moist lips and brown hair.

She gripped an exquisite Oak Bow in her hand. Thanks to it, Tsukahara Meiji was fortunate enough to glimpse her sturdy wrist. Though it was rude to say so about a girl... Archer's hands, no matter how he looked at them, had nothing to do with "softness." No amount of embellishment could call them delicate hands. They were a warrior's hands, especially the fingers used to draw a bow, their knuckles covered in thick calluses.

Rather than a "Heroic Spirit," she was basically an "elf."

It took Tsukahara Meiji a long time to force himself to accept that the person before him was Robin Hood, the Heroic Spirit Archer who had just saved his life.

"You... I, am... Yes... I'm your Master. Um... Pleased to meet you..."

"..."

Archer stared at him solemnly—though because of that hood, Tsukahara Meiji could not tell where her eyes were. Still, he could feel it.

"...Pleased to meet you... All right. I understand. You must have many questions. But before that..."

There seemed to be some helplessness in Archer's tone. Perhaps she had sensed Tsukahara Meiji's immaturity? Just as Masters always hoped to summon the strongest Heroic Spirit, Heroic Spirits also hoped to form contracts with Masters compatible with them, preferably ones with exceptional magical energy.

Tsukahara Meiji probably met neither of those conditions.

While lamenting her ill-fated destiny, Archer nocked an arrow and drew her bow. The diamond-shaped arrowhead, gleaming coldly, pointed at Carl's head.

Amid the wreckage, Carl's fair skin was smeared with overturned dirt, and her silky blonde hair was likewise covered in filth. Like a fish stranded on shore, she gasped desperately, yet could not get even a trace of air into her lungs.

Her condition was truly miserable.

Especially because Tsukahara Meiji knew what Carl was normally like, he felt fate's unfairness all the more keenly.

"There's another Master here. What should we do, Master? On humanitarian grounds, I suggest giving her a quick death."

"Hey, hey! Carl isn't an enemy! She's an ally, an ally! Ah! You, you're a Heroic Spirit, right? Can you do healing, detoxification, something like that?"

Tsukahara Meiji's question made Archer laugh despite herself. An amused curve appeared at the corner of her lips, and her voice gained a sharper edge. "Isn't that a Magus's job? Don't you know how?—Well, I do have some knowledge of herbal medicine, but don't get your hopes up..."

That accusatory undertone made Tsukahara Meiji lower his head in embarrassment. Sorry for being such an incompetent Magus!! Seeing how troubled he was, Archer also realized she had been rude. She did not continue saying things that would embarrass him, and her figure suddenly vanished.

Though he could not see her, Tsukahara Meiji knew she was nearby. It was a special connection granted by the Holy Grail.

This was a Heroic Spirit's innate ability, Spirit Form. In this state, a Heroic Spirit consumed less magical energy and could move more easily. Archer had keenly noticed that her Master's magical energy was lacking, so for something like searching for herbs, it was better for her to dismiss her physical form.

Archer's somewhat disdainful words suddenly provoked Tsukahara Meiji. Only then did he realize that he really did have healing magecraft among his cards!

Without hesitation, Tsukahara Meiji took another card from his dwindling supply of trump cards. Faint gray patterns could be seen on the pale blue Crystal Playing Card.

"Don't... Tsukahara."

Carl's weak voice suddenly reached him.

Her blood had already clotted from the venom, leaving it unable to carry oxygen, yet Carl still used that precious oxygen to speak.

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Tsukahara Meiji felt that her complexion was no longer white, but a bluish-black...

"Carl?! Sorry, I, I used it without asking..."

"No... Listen to me carefully... Tsukahara. I'm afraid I'm done for..."

Carl's words pierced Tsukahara Meiji's heart—precisely because he knew she was speaking the truth, the pain was unbearable. He had entered this war for Carl's sake, yet Carl herself...

"Our secret plan... You must remember it well. I'll... summon a Heroic Spirit. Then order him to kill himself... That way, you'll have one less enemy... Whether you abandon the fight or win the Holy Grail... Sorry, I can't give you advice this time..."

A rare smile appeared on Carl's face, but combined with her bluish-black complexion and her already dilating pupils, Tsukahara Meiji did not feel happy in the slightest.

"No, that won't happen! I, I'll definitely win the war! I'll use the Holy Grail's power to bring you back to life!"

"Forget it... Such incredible power... Using it to revive one person... would be too wasteful... Make your wish for yourself."

Carl calmly rejected Tsukahara Meiji.

When a person was about to die, their words were kind.

Carl's words made Tsukahara Meiji's nose sting. Everyone talked about dying for a friend, but how many people could truly, in such a situation, persuade their friend not to revive them and instead make a wish for themselves?

Tears welled up in his eyes without permission. Tsukahara Meiji said many more trivial things, but Carl never responded again. She only chanted a spell intermittently.

The magecraft circle for summoning spirits had been destroyed by the earlier storm. Carl's bodily functions had also fallen to their lowest point because of her injuries, and she did not even have a catalyst...

This was... the harshest possible Heroic Spirit summoning.

Yet even as Carl's life was nearing its end, the Holy Grail did not strip her of her Command Spells before she officially died. It was undoubtedly the most ironic situation.

Originally, the one who should have offered up his Command Spells was Tsukahara Meiji...

Carl's chanting was far smoother. Even with the intermittent pain from her wounds preventing her from concentrating, she was much faster than Tsukahara Meiji.

The magical particles that had yet to disperse in the air began to gather again.

This time, there was neither radiance nor storm, not even a widespread fluctuation of magical energy.

As though it were only natural, magical energy casually piled together. Like a fireball spell or something, those particles of magical energy casually formed the shape of a human.

This was the Heroic Spirit Carl had just summoned.

This was... a Heroic Spirit?!

As a Master, the instant Tsukahara Meiji saw that aged figure, his basic parameters flooded into his mind.

Every ability hovered around Rank E, and the magical energy fluctuations around him could be described as almost nonexistent.

Put simply, in a magecraft battle, Tsukahara Meiji could crush this Heroic Spirit.

In hand-to-hand combat, judging by his decrepit appearance, Tsukahara Meiji would probably still have an overwhelming advantage.

This Heroic Spirit... could no longer even be considered a Heroic Spirit...

"A Caster? A Holy Grail War? What novel terms... Excellent, to encounter something so worthy of study within my lifetime... Excellent, excellent."