This Is My Holy Grail War [151]

“Haa…”

Heavy, ragged breaths filled the air as Saber dragged her battered body forward. The moonlight was desolate, and all she could feel was pain.

A piercing arrow, sharp as an awl, had punctured her spine, dyeing her back crimson with blood. She limped forward, her left knee impaled by a rusted iron stake.

The agony inflicted by The Lord Impaler clung to her like a parasite, inescapable, gnawing at her very soul with crushing despair.

Even with Avalon’s restorative power, her wounds festered like a curse, refusing to heal. Now that the heat of battle had passed, she could finally register the full extent of her pain.

What kind of expression should she wear at this moment?

The answer was—she should smile.

Saber’s lips curled upward, and amidst her torment, a genuine joy surfaced from deep within her.

“It’s right ahead… the Greater Grail, the Greater Grail.” Saber’s pain was so overwhelming it nearly stole her breath, yet she screamed with all her might. It was her way of steeling her resolve—once she obtained the Holy Grail, everything would be over.

Pain, death, even the despair within her soul—none of it mattered.

Saber had no desire to take up her sword, nor did she wish to fight anyone. She only wanted victory. As long as she could claim the Grail, it would all be over.

The stage where heroes clashed in fervor held no allure for her. She had no love for battle—she simply wanted to survive.

In the eerie silence, she walked alone through the desolate ruins of cold, jagged stone. All around her lay ashen remnants and shattered towers.

Each step she took sent sharp pain coursing through her, but she did not slow down. Under the pale moonlight, she could already see it—a pitch-black stone house.

The structure gleamed with a glassy sheen, its obsidian-like surface smooth as a mirror.

The Greater Grail is inside! Hold your ground—I’m almost there!

A voice echoed in her mind—Amakusa Shirou Tokisada.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Saber pushed against the cold stone doors. The petite Servant, battered and bloodstained, braced her delicate hands against the coarse, heavy rock.

The stone groaned, shifting inch by inch.

Just as she managed to crack the door open slightly, a serene prayer reached her ears.

The cavern was not shrouded in darkness but bathed in brilliant light.

Inside the grand stone chamber, Saber saw no enemies.

She knew that the Black Faction’s Servants had all been held at bay, that the Red and Black armies were clashing violently on the battlefield. Even from here, she could sense the surging magical energy.

No homunculi, no golems. The feeble foot soldiers had all been dismissed—perhaps because the girl inside did not wish to see them destroyed.

Saber stepped past a narrow corridor and entered the hall. There, within the shimmering, prismatic chapel, she saw her—Ruler, Jeanne d’Arc.

“If a Servant’s wish were to destroy the world—if they used the Holy Grail’s power to annihilate all of humanity—would you still acknowledge such a wish?”

Jeanne stood from her kneeling prayer, turning slowly to face Saber.

“He isn’t trying to wipe out humanity. He only wants them to live forever.”

Saber lifted her bloodstained forehead, gazing steadily at the saint of Orléans.

“If humanity loses all emotion, then even if they achieve eternal life—can they still be called human?” Jeanne countered. “If mankind is frozen in time, unable to progress, then how is that any different from extinction?”

“That is his wish,” Saber replied, understanding exactly what Jeanne meant. “Besides, I don’t believe the Holy Grail even has the power to destroy humanity.”

“But it must still be stopped.” Jeanne’s voice was firm. “You understand what he truly desires, don’t you? As a guardian of humanity, shouldn’t you do something?”

Heroic Spirits existed as humanity’s greatest protectors, summoned through the Counter Force in response to mankind’s prayers. That was why Jeanne had not acted immediately—she sought to convince her opponent with words instead.

“So you abandoned your role as the impartial mediator and entered this Holy Grail War as a Servant?” But Saber was no ordinary Heroic Spirit. She didn’t care about such things.

“This is different. I have no wish to fulfill.” Jeanne’s gaze hardened.

“No, it’s the same.” Saber’s voice was resolute. “Your wish is that others’ wishes never come true. That, in itself, is a wish.”

“I have no wish.” Jeanne pouted, emphasizing her stance once more.

Saber paused, sensing the frustration in Jeanne’s voice. But she had no intention of softening her words. “If you’ve entered the Holy Grail War, then that makes us enemies. There’s nothing more to say. Kill or be killed—that’s the natural order.”

Jeanne, who had been tense all this time, suddenly relaxed. Her voice softened. “What makes you think I entered this war out of personal desire?”

“The truth,” Saber answered curtly. “You’re standing in my way.”

“I just want you to understand that this isn’t right,” Jeanne tried once more to reason with her.

“And yet, you’re still blocking my path.” Saber’s voice was unwavering. “I want the Grail.”

“Then first, we need to understand the problem.” Jeanne remained firm. “Amakusa’s wish must not be realized.”

“It can be,” Saber countered sharply. “Every hero’s wish is grand—they are willing to sacrifice everything for their dream.” She had seen it countless times. She had participated in the Holy Grail War not once, but three times. She had known far more Servants than most. “To deny that outright—that is the true blasphemy against heroes.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Holy Grail War is a wish-granting ritual, isn’t it, Ruler?” Saber pressed.

“…Yes.” Jeanne could not deny it.

“Every Servant who answers the summons has a reason for doing so,” Saber continued. “They have a wish they seek to fulfill. Whether they truly need the Grail or not, Servants enter the war because of their wishes.” Then, she shifted her tone:

“And you—you’re forcibly denying them that right. Isn’t that… overstepping your bounds?”

Saber harbored deep hostility toward Jeanne. Though Ruler had her own reasons for acting, her interference was a rejection of the very concept of achieving one’s wish.

“But no matter what, I must stop this wish from being realized.” Jeanne dodged the point, scratching her head as if confused.

“That’s exactly it, Ruler. You weren’t summoned because the Holy Grail malfunctioned—you were summoned because you have a wish. That’s why the Grail called you.”

A long silence followed before Jeanne admitted, “You’re too cunning. I can’t out argue you.”

“I…” Saber sighed. “I’m just speaking the truth. The one who wants to stop Amakusa is you. The Grail merely answered your call.”

With those words, Saber stepped forward. She knew Jeanne would never let her pass.

The saint stood firm, gripping her flag. “You’re gravely injured. Will you still continue forward?” She assumed a defensive stance—not pointing the spear-tip at Saber, but holding the flagstaff horizontally before her.

Saber’s body was battered, her blood still flowing. Her stance was unsteady, like a soldier on the brink of collapse.

The golden fleur-de-lis banner fluttered before her eyes, but Saber did not falter.

“I will.” She stepped onto the stairs.

Durandal had yet to be raised, and Saber’s charge was slower than usual. But even faster than the gleam of her blade was the arc of light flashing through her mind.

She dropped to one knee, forcing her head down. Though her injuries had dulled her movements, her Instinct and Mind's Eye (Fake) still allowed her to evade Jeanne’s powerful flag strike with ease.

Her feet pressed against the unyielding stone floor. Above her was a dazzling, radiant mosaic. This was no church, yet it surpassed one in grandeur.

Under the watchful gaze of the Holy Spirit, two Christian maidens were locked in a deadly struggle.

Saber’s arms snapped open. Her left hand gripped her scabbard tightly. Images flickered in her mind—she could see the trajectory of Jeanne’s flag. In an instant, she swung Avalon forward, blocking Ruler’s attack, while her right hand lashed out. Durandal’s blade flashed upward, aimed straight at Jeanne’s throat.

Ruler was forced to retreat a step. And that single step—

—was Saber’s opportunity.

“[Hidden Sword—]!”

She didn’t finish her words. After all, Tsubame Gaeshi was neither a Noble Phantasm nor a skill. It was the pinnacle of swordsmanship, something only a true master could achieve. Even if Saber imitated Sasaki Kojirō, she could never fully replicate it.

All she had was the faintest glimpse of its essence, something she had painstakingly grasped through sheer effort.

Now, wielding Avalon, she could only perform the technique with one hand. Positioned a step lower on the staircase, she had to tilt her head back to properly aim at Jeanne—weakening her attack by a fraction. But her real disadvantage… was her wounds.

Earlier, Vlad’s Kazikli Bey had pierced her shoulder. To prevent further damage, she had torn herself free, ripping away a chunk of flesh in the process. Her silver armor was already soaked in crimson.

Even so, she struck—two blades flashing in tandem.

The metallic scent of blood lingered in the air as two brilliant arcs of silver light slashed toward Jeanne’s head.

Clang—!

Golden sparks scattered in all directions as Saber’s sword clashed with Jeanne’s flag. The sound of thunder boomed through the hall, and Saber’s second strike tore through the space between them.

Clang—!

Jeanne’s helmet erupted with a burst of sparks. As the sword light flickered, the helmet was knocked away, revealing flowing golden strands. A thin line of blood trailed down her temple.

The moment Saber realized her attack had been blocked, she immediately attempted to retreat.

Her wounded shoulder made it impossible to engage Jeanne head-on. She had no choice but to leap back. If she were in peak condition, she would have followed up with another strike—just like Tsubame Gaeshi.

“Hngh…”

A sharp pain radiated through Saber’s hand, the force of Jeanne’s parry reverberating down her arm. She could barely keep hold of her sword.

One-handed, and gravely injured, she had no chance of matching Jeanne’s sheer power.

She leaped backward, intending to use her speed to maneuver around Ruler. But what happened next left her utterly stunned.

Her agility was an A-rank—the absolute peak for a Servant. Her explosive speed had reached its very limit.

And yet, Jeanne was just as fast.

In the blink of an eye, Saber saw Ruler close the distance with a single powerful stride—so fast it was almost unreal.

Her Instinct warned her of the attack trajectory. But mid-air, she had no way to dodge.

She would have to take this hit.

Even as pain wracked her body, Saber’s mind remained razor-sharp. She thrust Durandal forward, aiming its tip straight at Jeanne’s heart.

An exchange of blows.

But Jeanne had no intention of trading injuries. With a swift pivot, she spun mid-step, wielding her flagpole like a club—

—And slammed it straight into Saber’s abdomen.

Thud—!

“Gah—!”

A mouthful of blood burst from Saber’s lips as she was violently struck, sent tumbling across the floor.

She crashed hard against the cold stone, the impact rattling her already broken body.

Her insides twisted in agony. She could barely tell if her organs were intact—only that every nerve in her body was screaming in pain.

Gritting her teeth, she used her sword as a crutch to push herself upright. Saber was exhausted—so much so that even the pain was beginning to feel numb.

“If you continue, I will have no choice but to punish you,” Jeanne declared.

Advancing was painful, but it didn’t guarantee death.

Retreating was painless, but it guaranteed she wouldn’t survive.

It’s just a small wound. Endure it. She refused to back down.

Saber had participated in three Holy Grail Wars. Not once had she survived beyond the seventh day.

This time, the Greater Grail was right in front of her.

How could she possibly turn back now?

She saw the light ahead. No matter how bitter, how exhausting, how agonizing—she would endure.

I just want to live. Why is it so hard?!

"By my Command Spell—I order you, Saber, to recover your strength."

The voice echoed in her mind—Amakusa Shirou Tokisada.

“Punish me? Then try it if you dare!”

Lifting her head, she glared at Jeanne with unyielding defiance.

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T/N: i think ill change the format for skills... I'll only use [skill name] if they are saying it out loud or its a phantasm activation, thoughts?

also damnnn jeannes parameters are pretty good

Strength- B Endurance- B Agility- A Mana- A Luck- C NP- A++

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!