This Is My Holy Grail War [189]

Scarlet sunlight seeped through the curtains, dyeing the fabric a deep crimson. Anya watched curiously, reaching out to touch it, wanting to pull the curtain aside. But just as she lifted a corner, Rider pushed it back down.

“Don’t go outside!” Rider’s voice rang out sharply from beyond the door.

Anya couldn’t see his face, but his booming voice startled her. She could picture the anger in his expression, but she had no idea why he was so upset.

“Hmm…” Anya pouted in frustration, her gaze lingering on the eerie crimson glow filtering through the fabric. She didn’t understand where this red light came from. It was half-hidden, half-visible, emanating an almost phosphorescent shimmer—like the first light of dawn, deeply captivating, yet tinged with the dimness of twilight.

Rider had once guided her through a night of darkness. On that night, Anya had witnessed the most horrifying shade of red. She had curled up in a corner, praying that her uncle wouldn’t come near. Her mother had always told her that if she was ever in danger, she should call for them, and someone would protect her.

Anya had done exactly that. Her voice carried magic… though she had never imagined that her prayers would actually summon salvation.

She knew the family’s magecraft well—this power hadn’t come from any crest. Yet somehow, her call had been answered. Rider’s broad back had shielded her, standing as an unyielding wall between her and the terror—just like a father would.

Rider wouldn’t hurt her. So why was he stopping her from going outside?

Though Anya didn’t voice her question, Rider’s voice came through the door again. “You’ll be afraid,” he said through gritted teeth. Anya found his tone unsettling.

“No, I won’t.” Anya only feared one thing—red. Beyond that, nothing could frighten her. She was certain of this, and so she pushed against the curtain again.

But Rider still didn’t let go. “Don’t go outside. You shouldn’t see this.” His meaning was clear: Anya was just a child—there were things she wasn’t meant to witness.

Yet Anya didn’t see it that way. She had always longed for the life of an ordinary girl, but fate had long since pulled her into the hidden side of the world. There was no escaping it. When she made her contract with Rider, she had already accepted this reality.

Beyond the curtain lay the taboo Rider had spoken of. He had warned her more than once. But Anya, resolute, pulled it open anyway.

She had already prepared herself for the worst. She wouldn’t flinch, even at the sight of blood.

Yet the instant the light spilled in, the scene outside was seared into her wide, azure eyes—

Anya had always believed red was the most terrifying color in the world.

But today, she saw something far more horrifying.

White.

Anya’s face went deathly pale.

The streets were covered in crimson pools, wrapping around something stark white.

The sun was nowhere to be seen. No golden rays, no warmth. The sky cast only a strange shade of gray—murky, tinged with an ominous red.

A massive bounded field.

Anya’s breath hitched. Littering the streets, stripped of flesh and blood, were countless white skeletons.

Shops, cars, sidewalks—everywhere she looked, bodies lay strewn about.

Bleached bones collapsed in crimson puddles, their owners’ lives and flesh utterly dissolved.

Anya stumbled backward in horror, her stomach twisting violently. The nausea clawed at her throat, the sheer revulsion making her want to retch. She fought against it, forcing herself to stay strong.

What… happened to them?

Did they die?

Or—?

She struggled to hold it in… she wanted to say something to Rider…

But the next moment, she couldn’t endure it anymore.

She didn’t scream. But silent tears spilled down her cheeks, falling like shattered pearls.

And then, in the middle of the street, she saw something.

A piece of clothing.

A simple white cotton jacket, paired with a pair of worn-out jeans—clothes that offered little warmth.

The outfit was draped over a skeleton slumped against a bench.

Hanging from its chest was a familiar heart-shaped pendant.

Anya knew this person.

She had only met him once, an older boy who had bought her candy.

But she remembered his face. His kindness had been etched into her heart.

His clothes, his pendant—she would never forget them.

Anya’s stomach twisted violently.

And then—

She vomited.

That was the final straw.

Losing someone she knew, someone she had spoken to, was far more crushing than the sight of countless strangers lying lifeless before her. Even if they had only met once.

Her trembling hands gripped the side of the carriage for support. It took a long time before the shaking subsided.

“…Master, are you alright?” Rider’s large hand gently patted her back. His brows were furrowed so tightly they could wring water. He was holding back his fury, but Anya could feel it.

“…Yeah.” Anya nodded, but she couldn’t form words. She forced herself to stand—she had nearly broken down just moments ago.

“I’m not afraid… I’m not afraid…” The tiny girl trembled violently, her lips ghostly pale, yet she kept repeating those words. “I’m not afraid…”

Rider’s strong arm rested against her back, steadying her. The moment his hand touched her, she felt grounded again.

“Was this their doing?”

“It was our enemy.”

Rider nodded. Anya fell silent.

Seeing her reaction, Rider seemed to understand something. He spoke, his voice steady.

“Fear won’t solve anything.”

Then, after a brief pause, he asked, “Master, let’s consider something—what do you think will happen if the Holy Grail falls into their hands?”

Anya didn’t answer.

Her lips were trembling so badly that she couldn’t even speak.

“…Are you afraid?” Rider asked.

Anya shook her head.

"That's good." Rider let out a breath of relief, patting her head. He opened his mouth as if to say something but hesitated and closed it again.

Facing this nightmarish scene once more, Anya managed to steady herself. Though she was still trembling so much that her words came out uneven, she no longer backed away in fear.

After calming down slightly, she realized that this bounded field had been designed to target ordinary people. The magic constantly welling up within her body resisted its effects. She was young, and her magical energy was not abundant, yet she found it easy to withstand.

Unless one was completely ignorant of magecraft, this spell had little effect on those who grasped the mysteries of magic.

Anya tugged at the hem of Rider's cloak and spoke hesitantly, "What should we do?"

"Remember, just stay here." Rider gave his answer before leaping off the carriage. He turned back to remind her once more, "Don't come out."

That same phrase again.

Then, he was gone.

Rider strode forward, disappearing into the sea of bleached bones. Alone, without company, leaving Anya only the sight of his lonely, retreating figure.

Anya bit her lip, unable to stop herself from asking, "But why… why do you have to go?"

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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!