This Is My Holy Grail War [125]

The morning sun had yet to rise, and the sky was still a dim canvas of muted reds, as though dusted with frost.

Gordes’s eyes were swollen from lack of sleep. Through his connection to Saber, he had witnessed the ferocious battle that unfolded the previous night. The dense black mist that engulfed everything had made it difficult to see at first, but when the link with Saber finally stabilized, he had glimpsed something extraordinary—a peculiar young girl.

The figure, unmistakably a Servant, was laid bare to Gordes through the Saint Graph data provided by the Holy Grail. Strength, Endurance, and Mana were all C-rank. Only her high Agility stood out, while the rest of her parameters were unremarkable. Just as he was puzzling over this, Saber informed him that she would be unleashing her Noble Phantasm.

At that moment, Gordes felt a storm brewing in the distance, a surge of mana so overwhelming it seemed to suffuse the entire city with malice.

Never before had Gordes experienced such overwhelming power. Even from the safety of his castle workshop, he felt a primal fear, a terror that gnawed at his soul.

This is it. Saber has revealed her trump card!

The sheer force of Saber’s unleashed Noble Phantasm was breathtaking. Gordes could only assume that Assassin’s use of her own Noble Phantasm had provoked Saber into responding in kind.

The air grew thick, the mist that had smothered the battlefield began to collapse into particles, falling like dust to the ground. Even light itself seemed to warp, bending under the immense magical pressure.

And that was just the beginning.

Gordes felt the mana drain from him at an alarming rate, as though his very lifeblood were being siphoned away. The excruciating pain nearly caused him to pass out—his body screamed in protest as though marrow were being ripped from his bones.

Even with the Homunculus circuits bearing the brunt of Saber’s mana demands, Gordes, providing only a fraction of the flow, could barely keep up.

Just as he was about to unleash a tirade of frustration at Saber, the pain subsided.

What stopped him wasn’t an easing of the mana draw, but what he saw next: Assassin, Jack the Ripper, frozen in fear.

The childlike Servant, who had previously exuded confidence, now clutched her dual daggers defensively, terror etched into her features. Step by step, she retreated, her movements slow and hesitant, as if drawn inexorably toward her doom.

Stone spread across her body, creeping from her eyes and spreading like wildfire. Gordes watched in awe as Jack was fully petrified, her fragile frame transformed into a cold, lifeless statue.

The petrification didn’t stop there. Nearby lampposts, trees, shrubs, and even abandoned cars all turned to stone, becoming eerie sculptures in the aftermath of Saber’s unleashed power.

Gordes’s vision blurred, his temples pounding with an ache that lingered even now. The lingering effects of Saber’s Noble Phantasm had dulled his senses.

“Ugh!” Gordes groaned, clutching his head. The mana depletion left him so drained that even blinking felt like a chore.

Supported by a Homunculus, he staggered into the castle’s grand hall. Despite his exhaustion, he stood tall. The pain, he thought, was worth it.

For in the center of the hall stood a prize—a statue of Jack the Ripper, displayed prominently as a trophy. Gordes had claimed the first kill of the Holy Grail War.

But his satisfaction was dampened by Saber’s absence. She had rejected the celebratory feast, retreating to her room immediately after the battle. She hadn’t even attended the pre-battle briefing, a fact that gnawed at Gordes’s pride.

What a tactless Servant. So ungrateful. Still, the joy of his accomplishment outweighed his irritation. Surely, Darnic would now view him with greater respect.

Gordes glanced toward the empty seat that Saber might have occupied. Had this been any other day, she would have quietly stood by his side. Instead, he attended the Yggdmillennia family meeting alone.

“Well done, Gordes,” Darnic praised, though his tone carried an undercurrent of unease. Gordes caught the subtle hint but chose not to comment.

“Saber… the Sword Knight’s Noble Phantasm,” Darnic muttered, circling the petrified Assassin statue thoughtfully. After a moment, he turned to Caster.

“Is there any value in Assassin’s Saint Graph?” he inquired.

“None whatsoever,” Caster replied without hesitation. “Every inch of her has turned to stone. This level of petrification is unprecedented. Had I not seen her transform, I might have assumed she was a statue carved from ancient rock.”

The ongoing battle between Red and Black had barely begun, yet their first skirmish had claimed a casualty—on their own side.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Caster mused aloud. “A Noble Phantasm capable of turning life entirely into stone… I’ve heard of such powers, but to witness it? Fascinating.”

Darnic frowned. “So, the statue is of no use to us. A pity.” He shifted his focus. “Archer, you should know about this sort of thing. Stone-petrifying [Mystic Eyes]… it’s a famous legend from your region, isn’t it?”

Archer, Chiron, nodded. “The Gorgon Medusa. Only her cursed [Mystic Eyes] could produce such an effect.” His calm tone belied the gravity of his observation.

Medusa’s [Mystic Eyes]…? Gordes’s thoughts churned. He tried to reconcile this with Saber’s identity but found it impossible.

Lancelot had no power to petrify. Gordes had pored over every text he could find, and none hinted at such abilities. Could Saber’s True Name be something entirely unexpected?

He felt a gnawing uncertainty. Even as he was certain of Mordred’s connection to Saber, this strange ability shook his confidence.

“Let’s not dwell on the past,” Gordes declared, attempting to redirect the conversation. “What matters now is unity. The Red faction’s moves are growing more apparent. Our spies at customs have reported suspicious shipments.”

Darnic nodded. “Indeed. Ancient ruins have been dismantled, with large quantities of materials transported abroad. The buyers are ostensibly tied to the Holy Church.”

“Significant amounts?” Roche inquired.

“Enough to suggest Caster is building a workshop,” Darnic replied. “Their preparations were clearly made in advance.”

“Will they act tonight?” Roche asked, turning to Gordes. “Speaking of which, after such a massive mana expenditure, can Saber still fight?”

Gordes bristled at the question, sensing Roche’s hidden interest in Saber. “As long as we don’t unleash her Noble Phantasm again, there will be no problem.”

“Then let us prepare for tonight,” came the ominous voice of Vlad III, who had been silently observing from his throne. A dangerous smile crossed his lips.

“The invaders of our territory will pay for their audacity—with blood. Such is war. There is no escape from it.”

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T/N: jackie...

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!