Irisviel had thought that the man named Kanjuro had completely disappeared.
However, from his meeting with Illya to his reappearance before her now,
an indescribable tension and unease seized her.
Kanjuro's condescending gaze swept over her like something physical. There was no emotion in that look, only pure scrutiny and control, as if a demon were sizing up a piece of property it had long since marked, sending a bone-chilling cold through her.
Meanwhile, a figure as swift as the wind dropped elegantly from the night sky, his spear tip glinting with a cold light under the moon—Diarmuid Ua Duibhne formally entered the battlefield.
"Who are you?" Artoria protected Irisviel behind her.
The Lancer pointed his spear at Artoria. "My name is Diarmuid, a knight who forever follows his King's orders." Diarmuid smiled.
"I see." The reason Artoria appeared here was Emiya Kiritsugu's order—to let her act as bait to investigate the whereabouts of other masters and Heroic Spirits.
And then wipe them all out in one go.
However, Sab sometimes didn't understand why Irisviel had to accompany her on adventures.
Irisviel took a few steps back.
She just wanted to escape Kanjuro's sight as quickly as possible.
"So, let's have a fair duel between knights!" Diarmuid laughed loudly, his spear swirling like a dragon.
In the torrent of magic, they slowly floated up, and the air between the two Servants seemed to solidify into amber.
"Interesting, is this the Holy Grail War?" Kanjuro exclaimed from the side, marveling at the magical energy released by Sab and Diarmuid.
"It's just a battle between Heroic Spirits. Do you think you're inferior?"
"Not exactly." Kanjuro shook his head.
Diarmuid Ua Duibhne's twin spears gleamed with distinctly different cold lights under the moonlight—the long spear in his right hand, 'Gae Dearg: Crimson Rose of Exorcism,' seemed stained with blood, while the short spear in his left hand, 'Gae Buidhe: Yellow Rose of Mortality,' was wreathed in an ominous aura of curse.
Sab stood with her sword held horizontally, her lake-green pupils constricted.
The invisible sword, enveloped by the Wind King Barrier, hummed in her hand. She could feel the threat that the red spear posed to her magical energy.
"A sword unwilling to show its true form?" Diarmuid chuckled lightly, his left foot stomping hard enough to shatter the ground.
His figure transformed into a black lightning bolt, the red spear tip cutting a spiraling airflow as it thrust directly at Sab's face.
Blade and spear tip collided, sparking dazzling fire.
Sab shifted her body to deflect the force, and the invisible sword slid along the spear shaft, aiming for the opponent's fingers.
This exquisite counterattack, however, was precisely parried by the yellow short spear—Diarmuid's coordination with his two weapons was flawless.
"Good!" The Lancer's eyes burned with fierce fighting spirit, his twin spears dancing like a storm.
The red spear continuously tore through the atmosphere, each clash weakening the Wind King Barrier's disguise; the yellow short spear, meanwhile, lurked like a venomous snake, specifically targeting Sab's defensive blind spots.
Sab retreated repeatedly, her silver boots carving deep furrows in the asphalt road. She keenly sensed the danger of the yellow short spear—a mere graze of the spear tip against her armguard made her feel an obstruction in her magical energy circulation.
This was a cursed spear imbued with the concept of 'unhealable wounds'.
"Are you testing my Noble Phantasm?" Sab's eyes sharpened. Since invisibility was meaningless, she simply released the Wind King Barrier.
The compressed storm erupted, sending all the surrounding gravel flying. The golden sword instantly manifested, illuminating the dim dock.
Irisviel held her breath nearby. She could see several scratches already on Sab's silver armor, while Diarmuid's attacks grew increasingly ferocious. Each swing of the red spear carried a tearing shriek of magical energy, forcing Sab to parry with the flat of her sword.
"As expected of the renowned king of knights." Diarmuid spun to avoid a vertical slash, his red spear striking like a viper at Sab's sword-wielding wrist, "But your swordsmanship is too straightforward!"
Sab narrowly pulled back her wrist, the spear tip grazing her armor and sending a shower of sparks.
She finally saw the essence of his spear technique—it wasn't merely martial skill, but a battle dance that perfectly integrated the 'exorcism' and 'mortality' properties. She had to break this rhythm.
The golden holy sword suddenly changed its trajectory, abandoning defense to strike directly at his heart. This suicidal, injury-for-injury fighting style made Diarmuid raise an eyebrow slightly, and the yellow short spear timely parried the blade.
But this was the moment Sab had been waiting for—
"Ex——"
The holy sword suddenly erupted with an astonishing torrent of magical energy, forcing Diarmuid to leap back.
In this gap, Sab finally seized the opportunity. The golden sword, at an incredible angle, struck upwards, precisely hitting the shaft of the red spear.
With a 'clack,' Gae Dearg: Crimson Rose of Exorcism snapped in two.
"What?!" Diarmuid looked at the broken spear in his hand, his eyes showing shock for the first time.
Sab gasped and retreated, her holy sword once again vanishing into the wind. That seemingly simple strike actually required millimeter-level precision. But before she could catch her breath, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her left arm—at some point, the tip of the yellow short spear had scratched a shallow mark on her armguard.
The wound was insignificant, but it was enveloped in a black, cursed aura.
"It seems I have a slight advantage, Sab." Diarmuid threw away the broken spear, gripping Gae Buidhe: Yellow Rose of Mortality with both hands, "Your left arm is already crippled."
Sab tried to move her left hand and found that her magical energy circulation was indeed blocked.
But instead, she lifted her chin, a proud smile gracing her lips: "A mere scratch is nothing to mention, not enough to affect the course of the battle."
"Is that so?" Diarmuid let out a low, sinister laugh, a predatory glint flashing in his eyes.
Sab took a deep breath, a resolute glint in her emerald eyes. She knew that if she continued to entangle, the situation would only become more unfavorable. Only a decisive Noble Phantasm might be able to turn the tide.
She began to fully concentrate the magical energy around her, and the air trembled slightly from the converging energy.
Diarmuid's eyes were as cold as frost, his twin spears poised in a perfect offensive stance, like a venomous snake ready to strike.
Seeing this, Irisviel anxiously stepped forward, attempting to channel her own magical energy to resupply Sab.
The wellspring of magical energy within her, granted by the scabbard of avlaon, began to surge, and a soft light enveloped Sab—
However, the moment this magical energy touched Sab's body, an anomaly suddenly occurred!
Sab suddenly let out a suppressed cry of pain, feeling a tearing agony erupt from the depths of her soul, as if countless needles were piercing her brain.
Her slender body uncontrollably twitched violently, and the previously stable, converging magical energy instantly became chaotic and unstable.
Although Diarmuid keenly noticed his opponent's abnormality, he didn't delve deeper, merely sneering: "Your Noble Phantasm has been sealed by my 'Gae Buidhe: Yellow Rose of Mortality.' Next, let me send you on your way home!"
He let out a triumphant laugh, his long spear pointing directly at Sab's vital spot.
At this moment, Jeanne, who was watching the battle from above, suddenly chuckled. She turned her head to glance at Kanjuro beside her, her tone playful: "Her magical energy... has suddenly become so turbid and unstable? How strange. Could someone have tampered with it in secret?"
Kanjuro let out a low chuckle upon hearing this.
He suddenly reached out and wrapped his arm around Jeanne's slender and agile waist from behind.
Jeanne subconsciously tried to break free, but was restrained by Kanjuro's irresistible strength.
He leaned in, his warm tongue brushing her cool cheek almost imperceptibly, whispering with a devilish allure:
"Don't you think... witnessing this legendary king of Britain, this eternal idealist, slowly descend into the abyss of darkness, is quite... interesting?"
---------------------------------
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! If the story has you hooked and you can't wait to see what happens next, you can unlock 30 chapters in advance over on my Patreon: patreon.com/TLHimejima1
Every bit of support means the world to me so if you're loving the ride, don't forget to drop a Power Stone and let me know.