Everyone (Bonus Chapter)

"If that's the case, then it would be terribly dull. I see, Saber-class Magic Resistance really is extraordinary... Still, if that meant I had to kill a helpless woman, I'd lose face too. I was right to decide to wait here for someone with the nerve to come to me. The only pity is..."

Lancer spoke regretfully. "I can't even give my name to the opponent I'm about to fight to the death. Being so constrained is a real letdown."

Saber agreed with him. Her icy expression softened slightly. "It can't be helped. We aren't fighting for our own glory, after all. I imagine you've offered the spear in your hands to your Master as well."

"Of course!"

"It's an honor to meet a Heroic Spirit like you."

Saber answered with an exaggerated smile. It was a clear, bitter smile, one that only warriors who had faced life and death together could understand. "Then... let's begin."

Lancer lifted the spear resting on his shoulder, spun it backward, and settled into a fighting stance. He slowly raised the shorter spear in his left hand as well. He spread and swung the two spears like wings, adopting a fighting style Saber had never seen before.

Saber then released the surging battle aura she had been holding back. Her bursting magical energy stirred the air into a whirlwind. The current wrapped around the petite girl, and in an instant, silver armor covered her from head to toe. Her magical energy had become armor and gauntlets. This was the true form of the Heroic Spirit known as the King of Knights.

"Saber..."

Irisviel nervously swallowed and called her name. Drawn in by the powerful battle auras the two of them gave off, she had already sensed it keenly. There was no room for her to take part in this battle. But she didn't want to be merely a spectator, either. At the very least, she was Saber's proxy as her Master:

"...Be careful. I can use a little healing Magecraft, but beyond that..."

Saber nodded before she could finish.

"Leave Lancer to me. I'm just a little concerned that the other side's Master hasn't shown himself."

Just as Saber had said, Lancer's Master, who had yet to appear, remained an independent threat. Masters usually stayed beside their Servants, directing them and providing magical support when necessary. As long as Lancer's Master didn't fully trust his Servant, he was surely hiding nearby, watching the battle. "He may be plotting something. Be careful. Irisviel, I'm leaving my back in your hands."

Her emerald eyes silently spoke, without a hint of fear.

Trust the Heroic Spirit who wielded a sword.

Believe in the Heroic Spirit who regarded her as his Master—or rather, believe in her own decision.

"...Understood. Saber, bring me victory."

"Yes. I will."

Saber nodded firmly and stepped forward.

"Gulp—"

That was the sound of Wang Xiaoming swallowing unconsciously. No matter how much he had overestimated the battles between Servants, the sight before him still shocked him.

This was a brutal duel, the likes of which had vanished from the modern world. It could only have taken place in that distant age, before myth had entirely disappeared.

An armored knight and a warrior wielding two spears fought desperately, clashing amid flashes of blades.

Though it was a clash between cold weapons, the surging magical energy and the powerful currents of air that seemed capable of destroying everything made the battle no less impressive than a scene from a movie.

Their feet shattered the ground beneath them.

The pressure from their swinging weapons sliced through streetlights.

Wang Xiaoming's eyes couldn't keep up with the battle between the two Servants. The flashes of steel coming and going left him dazzled. He could only judge how fierce the fight was from the shockwaves that occasionally spilled out.

The sheet metal on the warehouse's outer walls couldn't withstand the ravages of the invisible force and tangible spears. It peeled away and twisted, blown off by the waves of air like scraps of tin foil.

Medea tapped Wang Xiaoming on the head with her staff.

"Stop watching. You don't even qualify to spectate a fight like this."

Though Medea's words were harsh, Wang Xiaoming did as she said and closed his eyes. Only then did he suddenly realize that his eyes had become unbearably dry at some point!

Even blinking made his eyeballs sting! He had no idea how long it would take for his tear glands to recover from the dryness.

"Stop biting off more than you can chew. You won't get off so easily next time."

Seeing Wang Xiaoming's pained expression, Medea made a snide remark, then placed her right hand on his forehead.

A cool sensation flowed from his forehead to his eyes. To Wang Xiaoming's surprise, the dryness in his eyes vanished.

"That's amazing."

When Wang Xiaoming opened his eyes again, he found that his vision was far better than before. Before, he could only make out blurry shapes, but now everything was crystal clear. The swift steps of the two fighters and their flowing moves were all perfectly visible.

"If you want to watch, then watch properly. You don't see a sight like this often, even in the Age of the Gods."

Medea had to admit that the detestable pretty boy had some skill. But so what? In Miss Medea's eyes, the pretty boy had to die!

"What's wrong, Saber? Your attacks aren't doing much."

"..."

She had no answer to Lancer's taunt. They had exchanged dozens of blows, yet she hadn't landed a single hit.

Lancer charged in, swinging the spear in his right hand. Its sweeping blade covered a broad area, and its force and speed were no less than if he had wielded it with both hands. No—because he was using only one hand, he could employ many moves that weren't possible with a two-handed spear. The spear thrust viciously at Saber from an unexpected angle.

But a spear had its limitations. It was so long that gaps inevitably appeared between attacks. At such moments, the shorter spear in his left hand could immediately follow up and keep Saber pinned down.

And Saber's attack just now had been broken by the short spear's flawless defense.

He wielded two spears at once, yet not a single move was feigned. This Lancer-class Heroic Spirit coordinated the weapons in his left and right hands with perfect precision. Just how much practice did it take to master such an overwhelming technique?

Wang Xiaoming, an amateur, watched their battle in amazement. Suddenly, a line popped into his head:

[As expected of a man with two tricks up his sleeve.]

I get it, this chapter's padded.

I'll add an extra chapter on my own, I promise. Orz

Everyone (Bonus Chapter)

Saber and Lancer's duel continued.

At first, they had used little tricks to test each other's strength. Now their fight had reached its boiling point.

But "little tricks" was just how Servants described them. The shockwaves from those "little tricks" had left terrifying marks on the road. Two warehouses had already collapsed, and the asphalt had been churned up like farmland. Looking at the battlefield, one couldn't help thinking it had just been struck by a major earthquake.

Thud—

Medea hit Wang Xiaoming on the head again.

"What was that for?" Wang Xiaoming asked Medea, sounding a little displeased.

She kept hitting him over and over. It didn't hurt, but it was humiliating. Wang, the reporter, had his pride too.

"Has your brain regressed again?" Medea suddenly felt exhausted. "Did we come here just to find you a front-row seat to watch the battle?"

"But my head..." Wang Xiaoming was about to say that his head didn't hurt, but memories of the two fighters on the battlefield unfolded before him like the pages of an open book.

Seeing Wang Xiaoming's expression, Medea roughly guessed what had happened.

His brain had probably adapted to the earlier spiritual impact. And because he had been engrossed in the dazzling duel, he hadn't immediately noticed the changes in his memory.

Would Medea be nicer to Wang Xiaoming because of that? Obviously not.

"Your brain only remembers things after it's been knocked around. Is it made of the same stuff as a troll's?"

"Sorry," Wang Xiaoming said sheepishly, knowing he was in the wrong.

"If you know you're wrong, hurry up and tell me what you know!" Medea glared at Wang Xiaoming and snapped.

"That Lancer's true identity is Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, the 'Radiant Visage,' chief warrior of the Fianna, Ireland's foremost heroic knightly order, hailed as 'unrivaled beneath heaven' in Celtic Mythology. The Noble Phantasms in his hands are those two spears, Gáe Dearg, the Red Spear That Pierces Magic, and Gáe Buidhe, the Yellow Spear of Certain Death."

"Ha. 'Radiant Visage.'" Medea gave a derisive snort at the title and didn't pursue it further. Instead, she asked, "And Saber?"

"Uh..." Seeing the possessiveness flare up in Medea's eyes again, Wang Xiaoming silently mourned for Saber for a second.

"Saber lived in the same era as Lancer. Her true name is Artoria Pendragon. She's the great King Arthur, the most legendary king of ancient Britain."

After revealing Saber's true identity, Wang Xiaoming could clearly feel Medea's breathing grow heavier.

"That's your imagination."

Medea glanced at Wang Xiaoming and knew what he was thinking. Before he could speak, she cut him off.

"..."

Wang Xiaoming drew a breath and nearly choked on it.

"Enough. Let's keep watching and see what happens." Medea didn't believe the commotion they were making wouldn't attract other Servants.

As soon as she finished speaking, Medea suddenly turned her gaze in one direction and sneered.

"Speak of the devil. They really can't help showing up when they're mentioned."

Wang Xiaoming followed her gaze. Even with his enhanced eyesight, he could only make out a dark blur.

But no matter how well the person hid, they couldn't escape Medea's magical detection.

A black trench coat, a cold gaze, and a strange weapon in his hand.

Not a Servant.

That was Medea's first judgment of the person. He looked more like a thief hoping to steal the fruits of victory from the two fighters on the battlefield.

"That man is Saber's real Master."

After Wang Xiaoming got a rough description of the man from Medea, he connected it to what he remembered about Saber and confirmed the man's identity:

The Magus Killer—Emiya Kiritsugu.

"Can you expand your detection any further?" Wang Xiaoming asked Medea, drawing on what he remembered.

Medea didn't ask why. She began expanding the range of her magical detection.

Sure enough—

On the opposite side of the warehouse district, far from Emiya Kiritsugu, Medea detected someone else. A woman who could be called beautiful from any angle was also holding one of those strangely shaped weapons.

[Maiya Hisau]

"Hm? There's another one?"

Behind a shipping container, a man in a blue suit, his hair slicked back into the shape of a lemon, was watching the battlefield intently, a smile of confidence on his lips.

[Kayneth El-Melloi Archisorte]

"Keep going..."

Wang Xiaoming had just started speaking when his face suddenly turned pale. Gritting his teeth, he forced out the words.

That damn side effect was starting again!

"Looks like there are quite a few rats around."

Medea expanded her magical detection to its widest range. Then she found a familiar figure.

The strong wind blowing in from the sea stirred his black robes. Beneath his white skull mask, a satisfied smile appeared.

No one could have predicted that the Servant "ASSASSIN," who had been eliminated in front of so many witnesses last night, was now standing on this nighttime shopping street.

[Hassan of the Hundred Faces]

ASSASSIN had concealed himself in an ideal spot from which to observe the battle: a crane rising beside a cliff. He was about five hundred meters from the battlefield. Servants had far better eyesight than humans, and from here he could clearly see the two fighting—and even make out their expressions. The two in the thick of the battle, meanwhile, had no time to worry about whether anyone was watching them.

But just because the fighters couldn't detect him didn't mean no one else could.

Even ASSASSIN, with the class skill Presence Concealment, couldn't completely hide himself from Medea's Magecraft, which was several levels above modern Magecraft.

"Are you all right?"

After checking the surrounding "rats," Medea finally had time to ask Wang Xiaoming how he was doing.

"Whew..."

The pain had passed, but Wang Xiaoming was still panting and didn't have the strength to answer Medea. He could only give a weak wave to show her he was fine.

If a few more people showed up, he'd probably be done for.

Lancer swung his murderous spear, yet spoke to Saber in an easygoing tone. "A duel without names has no honor. Anyway, let me first offer you my respect. You haven't even broken a sweat yet. You truly are a heroine among women."

"No need to be modest, Lancer." Saber swung the sword in her hand and smiled. "I don't know your name, but to be praised by someone with such skill with a spear is an honor. I gratefully accept your compliment."

Both of them were confident in their abilities, so when they met a true opponent, they offered each other their respect.

They were both solitary warriors, but they were also Heroic Spirits who understood and admired one another.