Dating Caster

The voice of his Master behind him actually gave Lancer a sense of reassurance!

"It seems I've been underestimated." The tone of Lancer's Master carried a peculiar nuance.

"My apologies, I haven't looked at you with any seriousness at all." Medea's expression was incredibly sincere as she said this.

Medea was speaking the truth; in battles between Servants, a Master's greatest role was merely to provide support.

"Heh—to be looked down upon in magecraft by someone else, this is truly a novelty."

Lancer's Master mocked himself, but his next action left everyone present feeling astonished.

"Lancer, go and bring me the head of Caster!"

The people present were all shocked by the statement from Lancer's Master, and even Lancer hesitated for a moment:

"My Lord?"

"Leave the charging to the front to you; I will handle the problems regarding magecraft." Looking up at the magic circle in mid-air, Lancer's Master had a very complex look in his eyes, containing both the fanaticism of a hunter seeing prey and an extreme confidence in himself!

The only thing missing was the fear of being threatened—

I stake the name of the Twelve Lords of the Clock Tower on this!

"Lancer, do not fail my trust this time!"

"I, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, stake the honor of the chief Champion of the Fianna on this! I will certainly present Caster's head to you! So please, my Lord, protect yourself!"

At this moment, there was no more hesitation in Lancer's eyes; his Master's confidence had infected him! His face was once again radiant with spirit! He pointed his spear at Medea:

"Caster, prepare yourself to lose your head!"

The situation had reversed once again—

Based on Medea's previous impression of Lancer's Master, he should have been a coward who feared death. That was why she had taken the risk to threaten Lancer's Master in a plan to ensure her own safety.

But Medea had never expected that this nobody, whom she had viewed as timid and fearful, would have such courage! This sudden outburst had changed the entire situation on the battlefield!

Trouble—

Medea gritted her silver teeth; although she remained calm on the surface, she had begun to panic internally:

At this distance, it was impossible for Medea to take Wang Xiaoming and leave.

Was she really going to have to abandon Wang Xiaoming?

She was unwilling—

She was truly too unwilling—

Watching Lancer gradually approach, Medea had to change her decision!

Just then, Medea suddenly felt her shoulder sink slightly, and then—

"Caster, let me handle this, okay?"

Chapter 23. I'm just a passerby...

"Caster, let me handle this, okay?"

A hand rested on Medea's shoulder and patted it gently.

Medea turned her head.

It was Wang Xiaoming—

Wang Xiaoming, who should have been lying down behind her, had now come to Medea's side.

Due to the height difference, Medea had to look up slightly to see Wang Xiaoming. She discovered that his face, backlit by the moonlight, was entirely in shadow, but his eyes were startlingly bright.

"Is your body feeling better?"

Medea asked subconsciously.

"Don't worry! I'm fit as a fiddl... uh... tiger."

Wang Xiaoming struck a bodybuilder pose, but it seemed he had pulled a sore spot—

Watching Wang Xiaoming's grimacing, comical appearance, Medea couldn't help but smile. The gloom that had previously covered her heart dissipated quite a bit. However, clowning around couldn't solve their current predicament, so Medea whispered to ask Wang Xiaoming.

"Are you sure about this?"

"In this situation, I have to go regardless of whether I'm sure or not."

Wang Xiaoming said helplessly.

"..."

Medea stopped questioning him and stepped aside to clear a path.

Watching Wang Xiaoming's limping back, Medea pursed her lips, thinking to herself:

If you can come back safely, I'll treat you a little better.

"My apologies, my Caster has caused you trouble, sir."

Wang Xiaoming arrived at the center of the battlefield and said to Lancer, who was waiting there.

"No matter. But Caster has offended my master, and I must mete out the appropriate punishment."

Lancer looked at Wang Xiaoming with a stern expression.

It had to be said that Lancer possessed a truly chivalrous demeanor; he hadn't rashly interrupted when Wang Xiaoming was speaking with Medea earlier. Combined with his noble character and his status as one of the Three Knight Classes, he could be considered a perfect Servant.

It was just a pity—

Wang Xiaoming looked up and said to Lancer, "May I speak with your master?"

"Apologies."

Lancer refused outright. He was still brooding over the fact that he had allowed his master to be placed in danger earlier. Even though the person before him appeared harmless in Lancer's eyes, the fox-woman Caster was still lurking behind him, and he had to remain vigilant.

Watching the unyielding Lancer, Wang Xiaoming shook his head helplessly. He then shouted toward the direction where Lancer's master was located:

"I propose an alliance."

"An alliance? That is certainly a high-sounding reason to save your own skin." Lancer's master scoffed at Wang Xiaoming's request.

"Since I am the one making the request, I naturally have the chips to back it up." Seeing the cold reaction from Lancer's master, Wang Xiaoming was not discouraged; instead, he revealed a confident smile.

"Let's hear it."

Lancer's master suddenly felt a flicker of interest in the bargaining chips Wang Xiaoming mentioned.

"The masters of Assassin and Archer have already formed an alliance. The scene from last night was merely a play performed by the two of them. With an Assassin hiding in the shadows, I believe you understand what I mean." Wang Xiaoming dropped a bombshell without hesitation.

"Hmm—"

Lancer's master pondered for a few seconds, then shook his head.

"Not enough."

He spoke the truth; such intelligence was not enough to trade for the lives of the two of them.

"Then how about the true name of Archer?" Wang Xiaoming continued to play his trump card.

"You know Archer's true name?" This time, even Lancer was drawn in by Wang Xiaoming's words. After all, during the previous battle at the docks, that Goldie had been far too overwhelming.

"Archer's true identity is the King of Heroes—Gilgamesh."

"You tell me such important intelligence—aren't you afraid I might go back on my word?" Lancer's master asked abruptly.

"Since I dared to tell you this, I certainly have even more important cards up my sleeve."

Wang Xiaoming smiled. "Besides, even if you won a battle against us, you wouldn't come out of it unscathed, would you? Why should we let others easily reap the fruits of victory? I believe that as one of the Twelve Lords of the Clock Tower, Lord El-Melloi can make his own judgment."

"..."

Seeing that his persuasion had achieved the desired effect, Wang Xiaoming continued.

"If you accept this deal, I will visit you at the top floor of the Hyatt Hotel tomorrow. Could you please let us go for now?"

"Oh? Aside from my identity, you have even grasped our location. It seems you are no mere nobody." Kayneth felt a surge of curiosity regarding Wang Xiaoming's identity.

"I'm just a passerby... er... I'm just a half-baked magus."

Wang Xiaoming wiped his sweat, nearly slipping into a different role.

"No need to be self-deprecating. I am quite confident in my own judgment; someone who can obtain this kind of information must possess some talent. And I do not dislike capable people, let alone a magus who understands etiquette."

The voice, distorted by magecraft, gradually became clear, and soon a figure appeared at the edge of the battlefield.

"In that case, I will accept your proposal. We shall cease our attack here."

Kayneth, who had appeared on the battlefield, spoke. He then cast his gaze toward Wang Xiaoming:

"Let me look forward to what plans you have in store."

"I certainly won't let you down." Wang Xiaoming replied with a smile.

Kayneth nodded, then said to Lancer:

"Retreat."

"Is this really alright, my master?"

Although they had already left the park, Lancer was still worried, fearing that this might be another one of Caster's tricks.

"No need to rush, Lancer. Although that fellow is indeed suspicious, it is precisely at times like these that we must be cautious."

"Understood."

Meanwhile, on Wang Xiaoming's side—

"Whew—"

Watching the Lancer pair disappear into the distance, Wang Xiaoming, who had been forcing himself to remain calm, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. That had truly been walking on the edge of a cliff; if he had said one wrong word, he and Medea would likely have met their end there today.

Right, Medea!

Wang Xiaoming turned his head in a hurry, only to find Medea slumped on the ground. He rushed over to her.

"Are you alright?"

"Just a mana burnout. I'll be fine after a little rest," Medea replied helplessly.

For a Servant, magical energy is like the physical body that sustains their existence. Naturally, overdrawing her magical energy was not a pleasant experience for Medea. She had been forcing herself to hold on while the Lancer team was present to ensure they wouldn't spot any flaws, and it was only after they left that her tightly wound nerves finally relaxed.

"Eh?"

At that moment, Medea felt a dizzying sensation of weightlessness. When she regained her senses, she realized—

This is—

Wang Xiaoming is holding me?!

And in a princess carry, no less?!

"What are you doing?" Medea's emotions were a little flustered.

"You didn't abandon me when I fainted earlier, so consider this a return of the favor," Wang Xiaoming said as if it were only natural.

"..."

Medea was left speechless by Wang Xiaoming's answer. She also found it somewhat amusing; how could the two situations possibly be the same?

However, the words she had intended to say—"I can turn into a spirit"—remained unspoken.

As for whether Wang Xiaoming knows that Servants can turn into spirits, let's just pretend he doesn't~

(Laughs)

The temperature has dropped sharply recently, everyone please stay warm~

Chapter 24. Ryunosuke's Current Situation

Wang Xiaoming's princess carry didn't last long. Once the two reached a place with dense crowds, Medea broke free from his arms and immediately turned into a spirit, vanishing on the spot.

Tsk—

I have to say, it felt really good—