This Is My Holy Grail War [88]

"Why should I stop Lancer?!" Assassin asked sharply, confusion evident in her tone. "Is it just to repay a favor?" The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth—she was beginning to reject Tohsaka Rin’s orders altogether. To her, this wasn’t a war anymore; it was child’s play.

Time slipped by quickly. Assassin had already seen Lancer hurl his spear. Yet she remained unmoving, indifferent to the events unfolding before her. To her, risking herself to save someone was far less appealing than simply observing the chaos.

Kirei Kotomine had made no move against her either, something Assassin found suspicious. There had to be a reason for his inaction, but she had yet to uncover it. For now, waiting for Lancer and Saber to finish their battle seemed like the safest course of action.

Sasaki Kojirō, the swordsman standing at the gate, posed little threat to the bigger picture. Despite his unmatched swordsmanship, he lacked both magical resistance and durability. Even Tohsaka Rin’s spells could seriously wound him.

"Why should I save Saber? Give me a reason," Assassin demanded.

“Don’t you want to win?!” Rin’s voice snapped back, frustration bleeding through. “You can’t defeat Lancer, Archer, or Berserker on your own. Saber has a city-level Noble Phantasm—she’s your best shot at surviving future battles. When victory is within reach, you can duel Saber for the Grail. Isn’t that better?”

“But I’m no match for Saber either,” Assassin replied calmly. “Helping her won’t change the fact that I can’t beat her in the end. There’s no point in taking unnecessary risks unless you’re willing to use a Command Spell.”

Her tone was detached, much like when she had first spoken to Kotomine as his Servant. Except now, she didn’t even bother hiding her disdain. Deep down, she wanted Rin to waste all her Command Spells.

The initial fire of ambition that had endeared Rin to Assassin had faded, leaving only a cold, calculating emptiness in its wake.

“Fine! Then just backstab Saber later,” Rin muttered, her voice barely audible, like a mosquito’s buzz. “Would that satisfy you?”

“You’d actually let me backstab her? I don’t believe you,” Assassin said, shaking her head. Even her ahoge swayed in a gesture of skepticism.

“I swear I will! Just hurry up already—Saber’s not going to hold out much longer!” Rin’s desperation was clear now. Her hand hovered over her Command Spells, glowing faintly, signaling their imminent activation.

“If we do nothing and just watch Saber fall, your chances of victory drop to almost zero. Assassin is supposed to be an assassin—using her for direct combat is what’s foolish!”

Assassin hesitated for a moment before sighing. “Fine. I’ll trust you this time. But this is the last time. If we fail, there’s nothing left for either of us.”

“You’ve changed,” Rin said, her voice tinged with unease. “When I first summoned you, you were so aggressive—ready to kill anyone in your way. Now you’re so apathetic. It’s like that witch cast some kind of spell on you.”

“It’s because I’m no longer afraid of death,” Assassin replied, stepping forward as she spoke. She moved with quiet determination, crossing the temple gates.

Rin watched as her Servant walked into the moonlight, her blonde-haired figure gleaming softly under its glow.

---

Standing at the gate was Sasaki Kojirō, the guardian who had been unwavering in his duty from the start.

“We meet again,” Assassin said, her voice neutral, devoid of malice.

“None shall pass this gate,” Kojirō replied softly, his stance firm and unyielding.

“Then I’ll force my way through!”

Unleashing a burst of magical energy, Assassin launched herself forward with explosive momentum, her power like a runaway train hurtling down a mountain.

To her surprise, she smashed through Kojirō’s defenses without any resistance. The ease of it left her momentarily stunned—it shouldn’t have been this simple.

But there was no time to pause. Once past the gate, Assassin’s eyes fell on Saber.

At the bottom of the stairs, Artoria Pendragon lay clutching her chest, her armor stained with blood. The King of Knights was gravely wounded, crimson spilling from her body in rhythmic spurts.

Unlike Caster, who had succumbed instantly to [Gáe Bolg], Saber’s indomitable spirit had spared her from immediate death. Even so, her pain and anger were palpable, her unyielding eyes blazing with determination.

Above, Lancer prepared to finish her off. High in the air, silhouetted against the moon, he raised his crimson spear for the final strike.

Assassin wouldn’t let it happen.

With a powerful leap, she propelled herself upward, her muscles leaving a deep crater in the temple’s stone floor. She soared higher than Lancer, and with her sword raised, she descended like a meteor.

BOOM!

Her blade struck true, smashing into Lancer with bone-shattering force. Blood sprayed in all directions as Lancer was knocked from the sky, his body crashing to the ground in a battered heap.

Though his first Noble Phantasm had failed to kill Saber, Lancer had been prepared to finish the job with a second strike. However, Assassin’s surprise attack disrupted his momentum completely.

The tables had turned.

Standing amidst the chaos, Assassin scanned her surroundings. But something felt off.

Her feet weren’t on solid stairs but a small, flat platform between levels. The area was unnaturally smooth, as though purposefully cleared of obstacles. It resembled a dueling arena.

Her instincts screamed danger.

Turning sharply, she saw him—Sasaki Kojirō. He had been waiting silently, his figure shrouded in the stillness of the night.

“This spot… you can fully unleash [Tsubame Gaeshi] here, can’t you?” Assassin murmured, her voice calm but her heart racing. She understood instantly: this was his stage.

Kojirō’s reply was a slight smile, his calm demeanor unshaken.

Despite the looming threat, Assassin showed no fear. Like Kojirō, she faced the prospect of death with an eerie tranquility. But unlike him, her confidence stemmed not from skill, but from her connection to Rider’s stolen abilities.

As she locked eyes with the swordsman, she could see his intent. Though Kojirō hesitated for the briefest of moments, Assassin had already discerned his plan.

“You said no one was allowed to pass, yet you let Lancer through,” she said, her tone tinged with accusation. “Then you let me go without a fight. Why?!”

“Personal reasons,” Kojirō admitted without hesitation.

“Personal reasons?”

“When I first saw you, I thought to myself, This girl might be the one. I’ve been trapped at this gate for so long, yearning to hone my swordsmanship. But I’ve had no worthy opponents. This temple sees so little activity—it’s rare to find even a decent warrior. Then you appeared.”

He paused, a faint, elegant smile gracing his lips.

“I thought, If I can’t find a worthy opponent, I’ll create one myself. That’s why I took you as my pupil.”

With a flick of his wrist, Kojirō adjusted his blade, resting its spine lightly against his shoulder. “Saber is strong, yes, but the fruit you’ve become is far more intriguing. It’s time to see if you’re ripe—sweet and satisfying, or still sour and unripe.”

His smile deepened. “So, Assassin, would you like to experience my secret technique?”

For a moment, Assassin was at a loss. She both feared and longed to witness [Tsubame Gaeshi], the technique she had dreamed of mastering.

The hunger for perfection burned within her, compelling her to accept. Yet the realization that she would be the target of the technique filled her with dread.

“Already accepting?” Kojirō said, amused by her reaction. “That was easier than I expected.”

“I have no choice,” Assassin replied softly. She knew there was no escape now.

“Assassin,” Kojirō said, his voice low and steady. “What you’ve learned so far should be enough, don’t you think?”

“Enough? It’s barely been two days,” she replied, confused. Most of her time had been spent on magic studies or following Kuzuki’s lead.

“I believe it’s enough,” Kojirō said with a faint chuckle. “Now, let me teach you one last lesson—the fleeting sensation of life and death. It is, after all, the most important thing for a swordsman to understand.”

“I want to,” Assassin answered without hesitation, her voice resolute, her expression hopeful.

“The sensation of death is agonizing, yes, but if it’s not true death, it’s just hesitation. That’s why I want to keep practicing swordsmanship even after witnessing [Tsubame Gaeshi]. Even if I fail in this Holy Grail War, I won’t stop.”

“You’re not planning to continue your training even after returning to the Throne of Heroes, are you?” Sasaki Kojirō asked with a half-joking smile. Yet his words hit closer to the truth than he realized.

“Forget it. I’m just a sword fanatic—I can’t manage things like that,” Kojirō admitted, shaking his head with a wry grin. “As a teacher, I’m not qualified to pry into my student’s secrets anyway.”

With that, he shifted his stance, gently brushing aside his sheath as he prepared to draw his blade. Every fiber of his being exuded focus. “I’m about to strike.”

“I’m ready,” Assassin replied, steeling herself.

“Hidden Sword—”

Kojirō’s words were cut short as Assassin’s [Instincts] screamed. Her [Mind's Eye (Fake)] had already predicted what was about to happen.

Three arcs of light.

There was no way to avoid them.

Her [Mind's Eye (Fake)] failed to provide an escape route. The sheer presence of Kojirō’s swordsmanship radiated a cold so piercing it felt as if icy winds from the underworld were lashing against her back.

This wasn’t the first time her precognition had failed, but those past failures had been against wide-area attacks—something beyond her ability to physically escape. But this was different.

This time, her agility was greater than her opponent’s. Her strength surpassed his. And yet, even though Kojirō’s attack was “just” a sword strike, Assassin couldn’t discern a single way to evade it.

She froze—not in fear, but in an attempt to comprehend the trajectory of the sword.

Her mind raced, analyzing every detail. The first two arcs shared a path and could theoretically be dodged. But the third arc—impossibly—seemed to cut through time and space, striking from behind her.

It was utterly inescapable.

What made it worse was that all three strikes converged on the same point, at the exact same moment. This was no mere swordsmanship—it was a miracle, a feat beyond human comprehension.

And yet, as she stared into the impossible, Assassin saw a sliver of hope.

If escape was impossible, then the only answer was to strike first.

Kojirō’s sword descended.

“[—Tsubame Gaeshi]!”

Assassin’s strategy crystallized in an instant. If she could evade the first two strikes, she would close the distance and counterattack before the third could connect.

---

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!