This Is My Holy Grail War [188]

A dense mist hung low, shrouding the sky in darkness. All life withered, and crimson rained upon the earth.

Human blood coalesced in the air, forming a swirling black vortex, draining even the sun’s radiance from the heavens. That was the essence of human life—the blood of mortals, forcibly extracted before it could even be converted into mana.

Saber raised her head in silence. To her eyes, this bounded field was crude, devoid of any refinement. The structure’s nodes were hastily constructed, capable of transmitting only the most basic magical energy. Though large in scale, the spell itself was far from intricate. Even so, Saber had never expected Archer’s Master to commit such an atrocity.

After studying magecraft from the Age of Gods, Saber had developed a habit of analyzing magic with a scholar’s perspective.

This ritual was staggering in scope, cast in the heart of a bustling city. Though it only covered less than half of the metropolis, it had dragged the vast majority of its population into the abyss.

The secrecy modern magi worked so hard to maintain was utterly shattered. A black-haired girl had torn through the veil of mysticism, proclaiming its existence to the world—at the cost of countless lives.

Compared to a meticulously woven magical boundary, such a crude spell had a distinct advantage: it was far easier to expand. As long as one understood the ley lines, the scale could be amplified to citywide proportions with little effort. However, few magi would ever attempt this—it was akin to summoning demonic beasts.

The act of summoning them wasn’t particularly complex; the real issue lay in controlling them. In theory, the summoning gate could be left open indefinitely, provided one had enough preparation time and an ample supply of mana.

If control wasn’t a concern, summoning creatures far beyond one’s capabilities was hardly a challenge.

The same principle applied to magecraft. As long as ley line mana provided support, amplifying a spell’s power was no different from stacking explosives—just keep piling on energy, and the effect would magnify. But therein lay the problem: how to survive the ensuing detonation.

Clearly, Archer’s Master, Wei Yang, had never considered this. Nor had she intended to control the bounded field. She had set a course and carried it out without hesitation. Her understanding of magecraft was profound—so profound, in fact, that it bordered on cold-bloodedness.

A madwoman isn’t terrifying. A madwoman with power is.

Even if someone wished to avenge the countless lives lost, they would find no target for their retribution. Wei Yang hadn’t even spared herself—she had left behind only a single sentence before vanishing from this world.

The sky, veiled by heavy clouds, allowed not a sliver of light to pass through. Saber saw countless streams of mana swirling above. A spirit form like hers was naturally drawn to magical energy—like a moth to a flame, an intoxicating pull.

Yet today, she felt nothing but revulsion.

She could already guess how certain people would react—how their fury would burn at the sight of mortals perishing en masse.

Neither Saber nor Caster had intervened to stop the bounded field. There was no point. It was a single-use spell, and once cast, its effect was complete. Even the one who initiated it had disappeared.

Even if someone wished to avenge the fallen, there was no one left to take revenge on. Wei Yang had even erased herself.

But why, then, did Archer remain unaffected after losing his Master?

Saber couldn’t understand. By all logic, even if he had enough mana to sustain himself for a while, a Servant without a Master would weaken rapidly. Yet Archer showed no signs of deterioration—on the contrary, he was growing stronger.

Was it because of his [Independent Action]? Saber speculated that his class’s unique trait allowed him to move freely even after losing his Master. The duration wasn’t infinite, but it was significant. Saber suspected that this was precisely why Archer’s Master had made such an extreme decision.

How much mana could be extracted from an entire city’s worth of human lives? Saber didn’t know. But the [Pure Eyes] embedded in her soul had already revealed the truth—Archer’s spiritual foundation had undergone a transformation. At this moment, his magical energy surpassed that of all other Servants combined.

Archer now wielded an overwhelming power, one that no single Servant could hope to match. Unless they joined forces, victory was impossible.

And even then, Saber doubted whether six against one would be enough.

“Saber, what do you think of this tyrant?”

Caster’s voice carried restrained fury. He knew well that anger alone would not solve anything. Instead, he extended an olive branch to Saber.

“You’re angry?” Saber asked. “Yet you hesitated before.”

The moment she lost her Master and went berserk, Caster had been there, watching. He had never once tried to intervene.

“It’s only natural. No one can remain indifferent to this,” Caster admitted openly. “I was wrong. I hesitated.”

Tens of thousands of humans had perished, along with every other living thing in this city. Devoid of magical resistance, they had been drained of life in an instant, reduced to withered husks.

“You were weighing your options.” Saber’s tone was knowing. She spoke of Archer—she understood that Caster sought a hero capable of bearing the weight of the crown.

“I was weighing everyone,” Caster replied impassively, suppressing even the anger he had felt earlier.

“But you’re too cautious. You could’ve simply asked,” Saber pointed out. “The Holy Grail War’s participants are more open than you think. Most don’t even bother lying.”

“So in the end, all that remains is rage.”

“When you and Archer had a disagreement, I already knew you wouldn’t be able to sway him,” Saber said, her voice carrying the weight of experience. “It’s nearly impossible to change a Heroic Spirit’s mind.”

She paused briefly before continuing,

“Speaking of which—you’re hoping to form an alliance with me, aren’t you? But I know someone who’s far angrier than you.”

“Perhaps,” Caster sighed.

“I mean Lancer,” Saber said evenly. “After all, Archer’s group just tore their roots from the ground.”

The Blanchet family—rooted in this very city.

Their lineage bore the city’s name, or perhaps, it was the city that bore their name.

They were not only participants in this Holy Grail War but also the rightful lords of this land. Together with the Einzbern family, they had constructed the Servant summoning system, and with Zolgen’s aid, they had created the Holy Grail Ritual.

Saber could already envision the consequences this disaster would bring upon the family.

Not only had their ancestral land been reduced to desolate wasteland, but the cost of covering up the mystery’s exposure—and the losses incurred in property and assets—would be astronomical.

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This is a fan translation of 这是我的圣杯之战 by 向希望祈祷. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!