Fate: How About a New Savior?

A few minutes ago, in the rooftop garden of the castle...

Saber had misjudged the battle. Now, she was forced to meet Perseus and his Pegasus head-on as they launched high-speed charges.

Even with her Mana-woven armor, the impact was hard to withstand.

Rider's Pegasus moved as if it had no upper limit on speed—pulling off missile-like, razor-sharp turns just before crashing into walls, persistently tailing the dodging Saber.

The once-elegant garden atop Einzbern Castle had already been torn apart—its former beauty reduced to ruin in moments.

What now? Should she use the terrain to escape and lure Rider toward Berserker's battlefield outside?

Saber glanced at the broken section of wall nearby—a broad terrace on the castle's side. From beyond it, she could faintly hear Berserker's roars.

But then, something strange caught her attention—Pegasus had come to a halt in midair.

"Huh?" Saber squinted at the change, suspicious.

Rider's gaze turned elsewhere, then shifted back two seconds later as he looked down at her, standing alone at the garden's center.

"…Looks like this is it," Rider said, a trace of regret in his voice. "But I'm not about to hand over victory that easily."

"I'm sick of this hide-and-seek. Let's end it here." Saber flared with a surge of Mana, the silver blade in her hand becoming wreathed in power.

Meanwhile, Pegasus soared upward, quickly disappearing from view.

It climbed so high it blurred into the sky, its and Rider's silhouettes indistinguishable, almost vanishing into the sea of clouds—until suddenly it cut a clean arc and aimed straight back toward the castle.

A Noble Phantasm—falling like a comet.

Perseus was about to unleash Pegasus's true might.

At such speed and distance, the sheer force of impact could easily demolish the entire castle.

As Pegasus became an arrow of light, Rider accelerated again.

There was only one target.

Saber, standing at the heart of the garden.

His aim—obliterate her and this entire isolated courtyard.

Saber didn't flinch. She began to reveal the true form of her own Noble Phantasm.

Her silver sword turned crimson, its shape twisting and distorting. Each deafening crack of power was followed by bursts of red lightning surging from the blade.

This wasn't the sword's original nature.

The "Clarent: Radiant and Brilliant Royal Sword" had once been a symbol of kingship, held by King Arthur. But it had been seized by Mordred amid the chaos, used to deal Arthur a mortal wound.

From that moment, the sword had transformed—becoming a cursed blade.

An overwhelming vortex of Mana scattered the broken remnants of the courtyard, repelling everything around it.

Rider's Pegasus had already descended to its limit. The white light it radiated flared so intensely, it was blinding even in broad daylight.

The white light plunged downward.

The crimson lightning rose to meet it.

The two surges were seconds away from a violent clash.

"Bellerophon!"

"Clarent Blood Arthur—!"

The true names were unleashed in unison. The collision devoured everything around it in a wave of destruction. Not even dust remained, let alone debris or rubble.

...And in the end, Saber had the upper hand.

The crimson lightning swallowed the white comet whole, shooting skyward like a demonic dragon before finally vanishing.

In the ruined garden, no trace of the winged steed remained.

Only one victor stood—the Servant Saber, Mordred.

She lowered her sword, now returned to its original form, and caught her breath.

Unleashing her Noble Phantasm had drained a tremendous amount of Mana. Even with a skilled Master, she couldn't keep doing it again and again.

With this fight over, it was time to see how Archer and his Master were faring.

"Hope Berserker didn't finish them off too quick. That'd be a pain..."

Saber muttered casually and turned to leap away—but something caught her eye.

A familiar silhouette.

She thought it was a hallucination—just her exhaustion playing tricks on her—until she turned sharply to look.

Atop the roof of a building by the garden stood a figure she could never forget, no matter how many battles she survived.

Someone tied as closely to her as the King of Knights.

"…Mother…?" Saber whispered, stunned, staring at Morgan's familiar eagle form.

But Morgan didn't linger. It seemed she had only come to assess the outcome of the battle—once it was over, she showed no further interest.

She turned without hesitation and descended from the castle.

"Wait!" Saber shouted after her.

Why was Mother here?

Right—it was the Holy Grail War.

Had she too come as a Servant?

The Caster who had yet to appear... could it be her?

That must be it, Mordred thought, leaping onto the rooftop and taking off in pursuit.

...

"Oh dear—"

Beryl dodged Rin's Gandr shot, blades in his hands flashing like beast claws as they wove into a fine net, lunging at her.

But it was useless.

Rin's body had been reinforced by magecraft and honed through rigorous combat training. The speed and power of Beryl's beastification magecraft couldn't touch her.

Just then, the entire castle shook violently, as if on the verge of collapse.

"Judging by that sound, I'd say the fight between Rider and Saber is wrapping up," Beryl said cheerfully. "My guess? Saber won. Rider's Master had some skill, but not much."

The night after Beryl had attacked Shinji Matou, Shinji had used his insects to follow a residual scent and tracked Beryl down to a hideout in the suburbs.

Beryl had expected a fight, but instead, Shinji proposed an alliance.

Beryl, amused by the idea of a boy doomed to die from magical overuse, accepted out of pure sadism—but deliberately kept Assassin hidden during the ambush.

"If Rider's pulling out a Noble Phantasm like that, his Master's probably on the verge of collapse," Beryl said with a hint of disappointment.

—Of course, what he regretted was not getting to watch Shinji's body fail under the strain of magecraft firsthand.

"And here I thought you were allies. You don't seem even a little worried," Rin said, gripping a gem tightly, watching Beryl's movements and searching for any opening.

The man looked barely over twenty, but his combat experience was undeniable.

Rin was only managing to hold her ground through sheer skill, but she could already feel the gap in experience—or more precisely, the difference in killing instinct.

"Oh, but I am worried. That guy jammed something into the Einzbern Homunculus's head," Beryl said, tapping the side of his own skull. "Thanks to him, they've lost their free will. No fun torturing them anymore. And if Matou dies, Berserker's probably going to go berserk, too."

At his words, Rin was struck by a realization.

There was no time left to keep searching for the Einzbern Homunculus.

She threw another gem as a flashbang and darted out of the castle, racing to regroup with Archer.

"Aww, did I just get ditched?" Beryl muttered idly, still standing where he was.

...

(100 Chapters Ahead)

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