The "foundation" of White's Sword Skill was Artoria's swordsmanship.
For Artoria, there was no doubt about that swordsmanship.
If White wanted to surpass an Artoria like that, then she had to become stronger than her.
"No! At this rate, I'll never win!"
White gritted her teeth.
From the very beginning, Artoria had never intended to let her win.
No, she probably had not even intended to let White land a single hit.
And Artoria seemed to understand the look in White's eyes.
Artoria said seriously, "Sorry, but I just hate losing."
A gale-like offensive swept toward her once more.
Buffeted by that assault, White felt as though her entire body had been sucked into a storm.
"Ugh...!"
Simply keeping herself upright was already extremely difficult, let alone trying to fight back at a time like this.
Counterattacking was impossible.
In this raging gale, if she dared to counterattack, even her bamboo sword would be blown aside.
"So this is why you care so much about your height, Saber?!"
White suddenly thought of something.
"..."
The attacks abruptly stopped.
"Heh—"
"Heh?"
"Hehehe—come on, I'll turn up the pressure, White!"
"Eh?!"
Artoria could not stand losing.
In short, she just could not stand losing.
She could not lose in height, and she could not lose in Sword Skill either.
"Ugh!!!"
The attacks became even fiercer.
If this had been a battlefield, White would probably have died several times already.
"No, I can't defeat Saber using Saber's swordsmanship!"
"Hmm...?"
At that moment, a figure appeared in White's mind.
That figure looked very similar to Artoria, yet also somewhat different.
It was the form of a certain savior.
That person's Sword Skill was probably inferior to the King Arthur before her.
However, that person's swordsmanship could at least break free from King Arthur's constraints.