This Is My Holy Grail War [81]

Snowflakes drifted through the air, falling heavier and heavier as the chill in the atmosphere deepened. Assassin's gaze landed on Kuzuki Souichirou, standing motionless on the snowy street. She pondered the outcome of his battle with Kirei Kotomine, suspecting that the blood staining Kuzuki’s fist belonged to the priest.

The blood stood out starkly in the cold, muted environment—a grim reminder of violence. Kuzuki, dressed impeccably in his usual suit, looked out of place with the streak of crimson on his hand. Whose blood it was, Assassin could not say for certain.

“Caster, you’ve returned,” the man said mechanically, adhering to their established agreement even though Assassin now wore Saber’s guise.

“The fight is over. It seems this killer was just a bit stronger,” Kuzuki said as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the blood from his hand. The gesture was calm and methodical, belying the brutality of the act.

“The enemy has been repelled. You may address me as Assassin,” she replied curtly. “What are your orders now?”

“There’s no longer a need for a teacher to handle this. Let’s go back,” Kuzuki said coldly, turning on his heel. “There’s no reason to remain here any longer.”

Assassin wasn’t surprised that Kotomine had lost to Kuzuki in their initial clash. She hadn’t asked directly about Kotomine’s condition, but the absence of a corpse suggested he had managed to escape.

As they departed, Assassin noted that while Kotomine had been defeated, Kuzuki had chosen not to kill him.

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Back at Ryuudou Temple, Assassin once again found herself face-to-face with her current Master, Caster. The ancient sorceress was furious over the attack on Kuzuki.

The temple’s decor was decidedly traditional, evoking a bygone era. Wooden tatami mats covered the floor, eschewing modern tiles. Every corner seemed to hold an incense burner, and the sliding doors dividing the rooms were adorned with embroidered depictions of arhats and Buddhas. The walls were bare, save for a few Buddhist scriptures hanging as modest decorations.

Assassin entered the room at Caster’s summons, her presence drawing the witch’s piercing gaze.

“You’ve done well, Assassin,” Caster said, her hood obscuring her face. Her lips moved slightly, and Assassin could tell from their angle that her Master was seething. “Now tell me—who was the Servant that attacked Souichirou? I need every detail!”

Caster’s foot stamped against the wooden floor, her fury palpable. The air was thick with the scent of retribution.

“Lancer,” Assassin answered. The single word was enough to pour fuel on Caster’s blazing anger. The sorceress froze momentarily as Assassin continued her report.

“A Lancer clad in a tight, blue suit. His spearwork is sharp, his fighting style direct and forceful. He prefers head-on confrontations and is exceptionally agile. He also employs rune magic,” Assassin explained, laying out the details. “And with that crimson spear of his... there’s only one hero in legend that matches this description—Cú Chulainn, the Hound of Ulster.”

The demigod hero’s name reverberated with power, his fame towering even among those of Celtic mythology.

Caster stood stunned for a moment before Assassin dropped another bombshell.

“I managed to wound Lancer, but his endurance is incredible. I couldn’t kill him.”

“Y-You’ve outdone yourself this time, you capable child,” Caster said, her voice a mix of astonishment and begrudging admiration. “Can you confirm all this information?”

“Yes, Master,” Assassin replied, her tone firm.

Assassin relayed all the intelligence she had gathered, warning Caster about the high likelihood of another battle tonight. Kotomine wasn’t just a sadistic pleasure-seeker anymore—according to Lancer, he was nothing short of a madman.

Lancer had already issued a challenge, and a second confrontation seemed imminent. Assassin couldn’t help but feel uneasy; this time, her own weaknesses and strategies would be exposed.

Information had always been Assassin’s greatest weapon. But against Kotomine, her former Master, this advantage was nullified.

Analyzing the situation with the intelligence she had, Assassin realized that even with three Servants, they were no match for Lancer’s cursed spear in a direct fight.

Neither Sasaki Kojirō nor Caster had a way to counter the [Gáe Bolg]. The spear’s ability to reverse causality and ensure a fatal strike rendered it nearly unstoppable. Retreating to the safety of Caster’s workshop seemed to be their only viable option.

Leaving the room, Assassin ascended to the temple roof. She had already delivered her warnings, but Medea—Caster—seemed equally at a loss for a solution. Sitting under the fading sunlight, Assassin opened a black grimoire, frantically searching for a spell that could defy the [Gáe Bolg]'s mechanics.

Page after page turned, each filled with treasures of magical knowledge that modern magi could only dream of. But Assassin barely glanced at them; her focus was singular. She needed a countermeasure for the spear’s inevitable strike.

Her search was in vain. By nightfall, she still hadn’t found an answer.

The snow that had been falling all day abruptly stopped. Though it had fallen for hours, its accumulation was light. The spring snowflakes melted the moment they touched the ground, leaving only a lingering chill in the air as evidence of their presence.

It was then that an intruder breached Caster’s workshop. Assassin sensed the alarm immediately. Magic threads like gossamer strands tugged at her finely tuned senses, alerting her to the danger.

For someone to infiltrate Caster’s workshop using magic, they had to be an exceptional magus among Heroic Spirits. Few in this Holy Grail War were capable of such a feat—but Assassin knew one.

The one who had promised to fight her again under the moonlight—Lancer.

The snow had ceased, and the night sky was clear, with no clouds to obscure the brilliant moon hanging above.

Under the moon’s luminous glow, three uninvited guests entered Ryuudou Temple. They bypassed Sasaki Kojirō, the guardian of the mountain gate, evading the barriers set up by the monks.

Assassin moved to the temple courtyard, where the intruders were now clearly visible under the silvery light. Her sharp eyes immediately locked onto a pair of striking cerulean orbs.

Familiar, yet unexpected.

They belonged to... Tohsaka Rin?!

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T/N: oooh drama time

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!