This Is My Holy Grail War [174]

In the dilapidated, old-fashioned workshop, Victoria sat quietly on a cold, gray wooden stool. It wasn’t a chair—just a small, backless stool. Already exhausted and unable to muster any energy, she could only slump weakly against the table.

The battle between Assassin and Berserker had drained an immense amount of her mana, leaving her drowsy. In truth, Assassin’s mana consumption was minimal since he had only engaged in close-quarters combat. But even so, Victoria’s frail body couldn’t withstand the toll of supporting Assassin. She was simply too weak.

The curse that had bound her since birth made life unbearably exhausting. She could never step outside, always confined to her home in solitude. At first, she had been restless, but over time, she grew accustomed to it. Life was like this—either adapt or perish. She was still young and didn’t want to die, so she had no choice but to mature quickly.

At least she had a cute younger brother to tease, allowing her to stay quietly at home. But the family curse did not spare her. That dreadful power clung to Victoria, as if it sought to strip every last shred of happiness from her soul.

She had thought her own body was weak enough, but her brother’s decline was even more terrifying. Before he even turned eleven, he could no longer get out of bed. By twelve, he was practically living in the hospital—and soon after, she never saw him again…

Snapping out of her memories, Victoria pressed her cheek against the hard tabletop. She wanted to sleep, yet she was afraid of catching a cold.

She knew that even the smallest virus could claim her life. Her fragile body couldn’t withstand any hardships.

Fortunately, it wasn’t too cold in here. Saber was stronger than any magus Victoria had ever encountered, and the barrier she cast perfectly sealed out the chill. The biting northern winds were completely kept at bay outside the workshop.

Still slumped over the table, she didn’t lift her head. But at a glance, all she could see were [Dragon Tooth Warriors]—identical figures, as if they had all been cast from the same mold.

How many of them were there? Victoria hadn’t counted. She only knew that with a single wave of Saber’s hand, countless [Dragon Tooth Warriors] had filled the entire workshop.

And these skeletal soldiers weren’t easy to deal with. Victoria noticed that the weapons in their hands weren’t traditional melee arms—they were modern firearms.

Did Saber rob an armory? Otherwise, how could she have so many weapons?

Saber’s familiars all stared at her, some so close she could reach out and touch them. There was no escape now—she could only leave her fate in their hands. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. At this moment, weren’t these fearsome [Dragon Tooth Warriors] guarding her? That thought brought Victoria a rare sense of security. She closed her eyes, intending to rest for a moment. Yet her head felt alternately hot and cold…

Was she coming down with something? A sudden wave of fear crept over Victoria. Before arriving here, she had been completely exposed to the frigid air of the tundra.

Assassin had carried her for a long time as they fled—starting from the hospital, crossing the bridge that spanned the river, and finally reaching this northern construction site.

She had been shivering the whole time. Even though Assassin had deliberately controlled his speed, the wind had been as sharp as knives, cutting through her mercilessly. More than once, she had doubted whether she would survive. She knew her own body’s limits all too well.

Now, she was safely seated here, but the cold had already seeped deep into her bones. She was certain—she had caught a cold!

The mana she had expended for Assassin, the relentless icy winds, the workshop’s filthy dust, and the ever-present bacteria in the air…

All of it was steadily sapping the last vestiges of her strength. Her body, already like a dying candle, couldn’t endure much more.

Victoria’s head swam with dizziness, her heavy eyelids refusing to open. Her mind felt utterly drained, filled only with exhaustion. She didn’t dare close her eyes—she was terrified that if she did, she might never wake up again!

I haven’t seen my brother yet… I don’t want to die… I still… haven’t found the cause of the curse…

She kept screaming in her mind, but her body no longer obeyed her will. She couldn’t move, couldn’t open her mouth—her eyes were slowly, bit by bit, closing.

Sleep. A deep, sweet sleep. In the realm of dreams, there was no pain. That hazy, weightless sensation was the best anesthetic in the world.

If I die, then so be it… I can’t take this anymore—!

...

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but it felt like only a fleeting moment. When she finally opened her eyes, she found Saber grasping her hand. Sitting across from her was a man in a suit and sunglasses. He remained silent, but his gaze never left her.

“Your body’s in bad shape,” Saber murmured.

Her hand was unexpectedly soft—nothing like that of a hardened warrior accustomed to wielding a sword. There was no roughness at all.

“Looks like I’ve caught a little something,” Victoria said.

Saber was very close to her—so close their bodies were nearly touching.

“Mm.” Saber nodded slightly.

"You almost died just now—cause of death: the common cold."

Saber’s words sent a shiver down Victoria’s spine. At the same time, an overwhelming sense of shame washed over her, and a sickly blush spread across her already pale face.

For a magus to die from a common cold—it would be a complete joke. Not only would she lose her life, but she’d also lose all dignity.

"But it’s fine," Saber said with a small smile. "I actually have quite a bit of confidence in healing magecraft. Whether it’s curses, internal or external wounds, or even mixed injuries, I’ve done extensive research… A mere cold, or even an infection caused by bacteria, is no trouble for me." She spoke as if she had plenty of experience.

"Thank you." Victoria had lost her parents at a young age, but the noble upbringing ingrained in her compelled her to offer Saber a sincere thanks.

"It’s nothing, really! We’re allies, aren’t we?" Saber, despite her charming and youthful appearance, wore a smile that Victoria could only describe as cunning.

A witch. The term surfaced in Victoria’s mind, and she instinctively avoided Saber’s gaze. She feared that if she met those eyes, the swordswoman would see straight through her. But then, she snapped back to reality and thought, I’m going to die anyway—what’s the worst that could happen?

She decided not to shrink away and instead asked, "Who is he?"

"My Master, William Kuhn." Saber continued, "As you can see, my Master has never known light—he’s been blind since birth. He wears sunglasses to avoid startling others. Can you take a look? See if you can heal him."

Why ask me? Victoria was confused. Aren’t you confident in your healing skills? Or could it be… even you can’t cure him? A string of questions swirled in her mind, but under Saber’s vaguely threatening gaze, she nodded in agreement.

Victoria was, after all, a noble and had studied a comprehensive range of magecraft. Her only limitation was her frail health.

"Please," William spoke at last. It seemed even Saber couldn’t heal his blindness.

"I…" Victoria hesitated for a moment, but Saber immediately interjected.

"Don’t worry about mana—I’ll handle that."

She tapped the air lightly with her finger. Victoria didn’t quite understand what she was doing, but in the next moment, an overwhelming surge of magical energy erupted into the air, sending a tidal wave of shock through her heart.

The sheer volume of mana was so immense that it took on a tangible form—a pure, crystalline structure radiating a brilliant blue light. The sight filled Victoria with utter terror.

No incantations, no medium—just a simple tap on empty air!

My God… Victoria couldn’t help but offer a silent prayer. Her face had gone deathly pale.

"What’s wrong?" Saber asked knowingly, her tone almost playful. That only made Victoria more frightened—and more exasperated.

"This is nothing special for me. Just the basics of the Age of Gods magecraft."

"N-nothing…" Victoria swallowed hard. With such overwhelming skill, what could she possibly contribute?

As expected, when the glow of the healing magecraft enveloped William, it didn’t stir even the faintest ripple.

Saber’s Master had not lost his sight due to injury or illness. His blindness was congenital—etched into his very genes.

"Can it be cured?" Saber asked again, though Victoria suspected she already knew the answer. She’s trying to humiliate me! This had to be some sort of twisted amusement for her.

"No." Even so, Victoria had no choice but to answer honestly. Her life was entirely in Saber’s hands. She brushed her fingers over her Command Spells and knew Assassin was just outside. But even if she called for him, it would be too late.

"I wasn’t lying, was I, Master?" Saber turned to William. "Something that was never there to begin with can’t be restored, no matter how much mana is wasted. Unless you use the Holy Grail’s miraculous power to completely remake yourself."

William said calmly, "I’ve never doubted you, Saber."

"I have some confidence in my healing abilities," Saber remarked, her tone both arrogant and effortless. "As long as someone isn’t completely dead, saving them is a simple matter for a knight."

"Even if their heart is gone, as long as there’s a breath left, I can snatch them from Death’s grasp."

Even a missing heart… can still be saved?!

Victoria’s breath grew unsteady. She recalled that Saber had mentioned curses as well.

"My body…"

"No need to explain—I already know." Saber cut her off. "If I had time, I could cure you. But the Holy Grail War won’t allow that. If we obtain the Grail, healing you would be much easier."

Saber placed a hand lightly over Victoria’s chest, as if feeling her feeble heartbeat. Then, as if from nowhere, she pulled out a wooden talisman.

The carvings on it were unfamiliar to Victoria. It bore no resemblance to any magical system she had studied.

"Wear this. It’ll protect you from the cold."

Victoria accepted the talisman, but she could still sense Saber smiling.

She had every kind of magecraft at her disposal, knew congenital illnesses couldn’t be cured, and yet she had intentionally humiliated Victoria. Why?

"This is…?"

"Similar to the barrier around this workshop. Your body is too weak—even a light breeze could knock you down." Saber tilted her head and asked with clear amusement, "How have you survived all these years?"

"I don’t know," Victoria admitted. Her eyes felt slightly damp, but she stubbornly refused to show weakness before Saber. "By staying inside. Never stepping outside to see the sun."

"A wise choice. But even so, you won’t last much longer."

"I have no other options," Victoria muttered bitterly. Ever since she turned ten, she had lived like a shut-in.

"I can’t tell what kind of grudge your ancestors incurred, but I can tell you this—the curse itself is unreadable," Saber said. That terrified Victoria even more. Even she can’t identify my curse? She bit her lip, staying silent.

"But there’s no need to panic," Saber continued. "Your body isn’t actually cursed. You were just born weak. Rather than saying you were cursed, it would be more accurate to say that your ancestors were cursed, and their misfortune passed down to you through their bloodline."

She added, "If you want to be cured, you’ll have to start at the root—just like my Master. Ordinary healing won’t work. You need a complete transformation. I would need a vast number of materials to prepare a special elixir for you. But right now, I have neither the resources nor the time. That means your only hope is the Holy Grail. Understand?"

"I understand." Victoria nodded, and in that moment, she finally realized why Saber had put her through this humiliation.

Saber’s mastery of magecraft was unquestionable. Surely, her Master was well aware of that. And just as surely, he must have asked her to cure his blindness. Saber must have told him it was impossible.

That answer, inevitably, would create doubt. A rift of mistrust between them.

Saber had intentionally arranged this meeting, ensuring a second magus confirmed what she had already said. Anyone could have played this role—Victoria just happened to be convenient.

The swordswoman was acting with purpose. She was making sure her Master understood that no ordinary magecraft could cure him.

Only the Holy Grail could grant that miracle.

A witch. Victoria had finally seen through her. She had to find a way to escape from Saber’s grasp.

As she turned her head slightly, she caught sight of Saber still smiling at her.

But no matter how breathtaking the swordswoman’s face was, no matter how dazzling her eyes or how sweet her smile—

All Victoria felt was pure, bone-deep terror.

This was a power too dreadful to defy. She dared not meet Saber’s gaze.

---

T/N: ... she is more morgan than artoria...

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!