Fate: Hero of Justice Takeover

"You really are troublesome, refusing to fall easily… That tenacity is truly impressive."

Lancer gave a bittersweet smile as he looked at Saber, showing no concern for the injury to his forearm where a chunk of flesh had been sliced off. As expected, Lancer's wound seemed to rewind like a film, automatically healing without leaving a trace. Given the healing speed, it was clear that Lancer's master, still hidden in the shadows, had likely used healing magic.

In contrast, Saber's face, though still beautiful, was marked by pain and anxiety.

"…Irisviel, please heal me."

"I've already used magic! I've used it, but why…"

Rather than Saber, it was Irisviel, positioned in the back, who seemed frantic.

Irisviel was indeed one of the most skilled magus. Not to mention that her body was specifically designed for enhancing magic, so there should have been no issue with using healing magic. Even if something went wrong, Irisviel herself would have noticed it.

But—

"The healing magic has worked. Saber, your condition should be completely restored now."

The golden-haired girl observed Lancer's every move carefully while watching her left wrist. The wound wasn't severe, but the problem was that the wrist's tendons had been severed, rendering her thumb immobile. This meant she couldn't wield her sword with enough grip.

Everyone could feel Irisviell's magical power fluctuating, and Saber herself knew Irisviel had done nothing wrong, yet the injury to her left wrist remained. Her thumb, as if it were a natural disability, refused to move.

Seeing Saber not charging forward, Lancer casually bent down and picked up the yellow short spear that had fallen to the ground.

"You're clever to have realized that my 'Gáe Dearg,' the Crimson Rose of Exorcism, can pierce through your armour."

Lancer spoke casually, revealing the true name of his Noble Phantasm. He likely thought there was no need to hide its effect any longer now that Saber was aware of it.

"But your decision to remove your armour was a mistake. If you hadn't taken it off, you could have stopped my 'Gáe Buidhe,' the Yellow Rose of Mortality."

As he spoke, Lancer raised the two spears, their red and yellow tips gleaming, taking the same stance he had when they first fought. This wasn't a trick to deceive his enemy but the result of intense training, a unique combat method he had perfected.

"I see now. That's a cursed spear that causes wounds that can never heal. I should have realized it sooner."

Saber said, a hint of regret in her voice.

"The Crimson Spear of Exorcism, the Yellow Spear of Mortality, and the right eye tear mark that charms young girls… Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, the most glorious of the Fianna Knights. I didn't expect to have the honour of fighting you."

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, an important figure in Celtic mythology and the Irish epic The Fenian Cycle, was known throughout Ireland.

"That's the wonder of the Holy Grail War. But I'm the luckier one. If I'm someone who's ascended to the throne of heroic spirits across time, I surely can't be wrong in my choice of the Golden Sword."

Lancer, having revealed his true name, didn't seem disappointed. Instead, he looked genuinely pleased.

"To be able to test my strength against the famous King of Knights and even have the upper hand, it seems the heavens haven't abandoned me yet."

The King of Knights, Arthur Pendragon, was perhaps the most famous of all Celtic heroes. His legendary tale, along with the Knights of the Round Table, is renowned worldwide.

And of course, she was the iconic figure of the Fate series, though her position was now threatened by a certain red Saber and a certain dragon-girl idol…

The King of Knights, Artoria Pendragon.

The Radiant Appearance of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne.

What an astonishing fate and encounter.

Heroes and legends from different times were now crossing paths in this small city. A reunion in the modern world, chasing their second dreams, and eventually coming together in the future, accepting the conclusion that fate had laid before them.

"So, now that we know each other's names, we can finally have a proper knightly duel. Or, are you only going to accept defeat after I've stabbed your arm, Saber?"

"Don't joke around. I wouldn't insult myself by caring about such a trivial injury."

Saber declared firmly, once again channelling her magic and donning her silver-white armour in preparation for the attack from the yellow cursed spear.

She also called forth the Invisible Air once more, and the Golden Sword disappeared from view again.

Despite being in a disadvantageous position, Saber showed no sign of despair—on the contrary, her resolve was only higher.

Lancer, too, shared that sentiment, his face just as confident. Both of them were excited to be facing worthy opponents.

One had used one of his two Noble Phantasms to cleverly catch the other off guard, showcasing battle intelligence that left a deep impression.

The other had blocked the killing blow of the Yellow Rose of Mortality, showing equally impressive adaptability.

Both following the chivalric code, they shared a mutual respect.

"Prepare yourself, Saber. This time, I will win."

"That's something you can only say after I've lost, Lancer."

The two exchanged bold, taunting words while carefully predicting each other's killing moves, each step a calculated probe.

The Holy Sword and the Demonic Spear were about to clash.

At that moment, the air was suddenly shattered by a thunderous roar.

"!?"

Saber and Lancer both turned toward the southeastern sky. The source of the sound was clear—whatever it was, it was moving directly toward them, accompanied by purple lightning crackling through the sky.

Irisviel, surprised, spoke aloud.

"A war chariot?"

Judging by its appearance, it looked like an ancient double-rider chariot. Instead of horses, two muscular, powerful bulls were pulling it. The bulls' hooves struck the empty space, and the chariot raced through the sky.

Not only was the chariot floating in the air, but its wheels also emitted a rumbling sound, and every strike of the bulls' hooves sent purple lightning weaving through the air, accompanied by booming thunder.

Such an unusual phenomenon, such a massive release of magical power—there was no doubt this was a servant's Noble Phantasm. Everyone present knew at once: a third servant had arrived to intervene in the battle between Saber and Lancer.

The war chariot, riding the lightning, made a grand descent, circling above the heads of Saber and Lancer, then slowed down and landed directly between them, blocking their weapons. As the chariot touched the ground, the dazzling lightning faded, and a mighty figure stood in the driver's seat.

"Both of you, drop your weapons. You are now before the King!"

***

Hey readers!

Want to read ahead? 📖 Join my Patreon for early access to 30+ advance chapters! Your support helps me write more and bring the story to you faster.

🔹patreon.com/aarvan🔹

Thanks for being awesome! ❤️