Fate: I Will Eventually Become the Hero of Justice

Always thinking a few steps ahead, she'd anticipated the possibility of facing an opponent with skills like [Intuition] and [Mind's Eye]. So she'd gotten her hands on some explosives, courtesy of her Master — Sisigou Kairi.

Now, these bombs weren't really meant to hurt Heroic Spirits directly, but they sure could mess up the environment created by her Noble Phantasm, triggering a collapse.

"Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom!"

Boulders came crashing down, leaving Saber enveloped in a cloud of dust and debris. But after a few moments, the Bounded Field seemed to settle down.

Saber didn't waste time feeling relieved; she stayed sharp, ready for what was coming next.

And just as she thought, with a swift "whoosh", the enemy's cold blade came slashing through.

Without hesitation, Saber parried the incoming attack.

"Clang!"

Their blades met, creating a sharp ring in the air.

But the petite knight wasn't surprised; she quickly swung her leg, delivering a hard kick straight to Saber's midsection.

"Ugh!"

The vicious kick landed on Saber's stomach, drawing a painful cry from her.

Without missing a beat, the petite knight unleashed a barrage of sword strikes, slashing one after another.

Saber was, after all, fighting in this underground environment for the first time. Even with ​[Intuition]​, she couldn't bring out seven or eight-tenths of her strength. Having been previously attacked by the cave-in and then brutally kicked in the abdomen by the petite knight, her movements became extremely sluggish, forcing her to take a defensive stance.

Unlike Saber, the smaller knight thrived in these conditions. Her swordsmanship was refined under the guidance of the great Knights of the Round Table. She was no slouch in combat. More importantly, she had grown adept at underground fighting, where the shadows became her allies.

She had used these dark environments to her advantage, silently taking down many of the legendary Knights of the Round Table, even those who were considered stronger than her.

Both the mighty Lancelot and the peerless archer Tristan had fallen to her in such environments.

"Clang, clang, clang..."

The relentless clash of their blades echoed throughout the vast underground chamber, composing an almost deafening symphony.

Above ground, no one would ever suspect that 200 meters beneath the earth's surface, a fierce battle was raging.

The sheer darkness of this subterranean battlefield, combined with the need to rely solely on [Intuition], put Saber at a significant disadvantage.

But what made matters even worse was her opponent's underhanded tactics.

Amidst the pitch-black darkness, the petite knight would draw Saber in with sword strikes, only to suddenly switch to a brutal kick aimed relentlessly at the same tender spot in Saber's abdomen.

And while Saber's torso was protected by her armor, her opponent's physical strength was nearly on par with hers, and every thudding blow sent a jolt of pain through her body, causing her to break out in a cold sweat.

The repeated kicks to her stomach infuriated Saber. In a split-second decision, as their swords clashed, Saber chose not to wait for another kick and impulsively thrust her head forward.

With a "thud," Saber felt dizzy from the impact.

The petite knight paused and stared quizzically at Saber. Even in the darkness, she felt that her current expression must be one of someone observing a fool.

Really, Saber?

The petite knight was, of course, wearing a helmet!

But on second thought, in a situation where you can't see your hand in front of your face, it's only natural for the other party to act like that because they can't see either.

Taking advantage of this moment, she quickly grabbed Saber's wrist and, with a swift twist, used her hips for leverage to execute a perfect back throw, sending Saber crashing to the ground.

"Ugh..." Saber's voice was filled with pain.

Quick to capitalize on her advantage, the petite knight quickly straddled Saber, pinning her down. Rearing back her right hand, she delivered a powerful punch straight to Saber's midsection.

"Splurt--"

The impact was intense. Saber felt as if her insides had been jolted out of place. Unable to hold back, she coughed up blood, which splattered across the petite knight's helmet. Saber's features contorted in agony.

The aroma of blood, iron-rich and heavy, wafted to the petite knight's nostrils.

She couldn't resist. With a smile, she licked the corner of her mouth, relishing the taste even as she maintained her superior position over Saber. The sword in her hand twisted gracefully, its point now ominously hovering above Saber's forehead.

But just as the blade began its descent, Saber, with her ever-present survival instincts, retaliated. With a lightning-fast motion, she swung her own sword, aiming directly for the petite knight's head.

The knight's eyes widened in alarm as she stumbled back. With a sharp "clang," her helmet was sent flying, revealing the face beneath.

Saber, seeing an opening, rose to her feet, the holy sword in her hand starting to shimmer.

"EX--"

The sword emanated a dense magical energy, and shortly after, a faint glow emerged from the blade, lighting up the dark space.

At this moment, both parties saw each other's faces and were taken aback.

Staring at the familiar yet younger face, smeared with a smudge of blood, the petite knight choked out, "Mother? No way... This isn't possible!"

"Mordred...? Do you want to destroy even my last source of hope?" Saber whispered, her voice a mixture of pain and fury, the holy sword in her hand flashing a dazzling light.

"– Calibur!"

...

Over at the coliseum's battle arena...

"Clang clang clang--"

Achilles, with his spear, was locked in combat against a massive greatsword, and the air was filled with the ringing clash of steel on steel.

In the isolated space of his Noble Phantasm, all magical advantages, even Noble Phantasms, were rendered useless. Victory boiled down to one's raw combat abilities.

It was a fight to the death!

But Achilles had one advantage; he could use his spear. Yet, valuing a good, fair fight, he often chose to battle barehanded.

However, things took a weird turn.

He ran into a BUG!

Shirou stood there, arms folded, wearing a faint smile, as he observed a flustered Achilles.

Behind him, six enormous black arms floated, each clutching a massive sword forged from [Evil], relentlessly attacking Achilles.

How... how could this be? Achilles was baffled. In this space, every skill, Noble Phantasm, and blessing was supposed to vanish. Even his famed invincibility was nullified here.

But,

Somehow, this king managed to unleash a Noble Phantasm!

This was beyond belief!

It was a total game-changer, defying all logic!

"Why? Why can you still use your Noble Phantasm?" Achilles' face twisted in confusion.

"Noble Phantasm?" Shirou raised an eyebrow, "Who said this is a Noble Phantasm?"

"If not a Noble Phantasm, then what the hell is it?" Achilles shot back.

Pointing at his black mud, Shirou smiled and said, "This— is simply me!"

Isn't the [Evil] contained within the vessel just the essence of the vessel itself?

It really was that simple.

"Do you understand now? With this black mud in play, you really don't stand a chance against me," a gentle smile graced Shirou's lips.

"Understand what... damn it all!"

Achilles roared, narrowly evading the massive blade swung by one of the black arms. Clutching his spear, he lunged towards him.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

Leaping into the air, he poured all his strength into his weapon. The spear sliced through the sky, turning into a fiery meteor, like a shower of shooting stars hurtling down at Shirou.

Shirou's expression remained calm, undeterred, even with a faint smile on his lips.

Then, in the next moment—

"Splash~ Splash~!"

The black, swirling mud surged and seethed, shaping itself into a ten-layered black wall right in front of him, boldly opposing the oncoming meteoric spear.

"Screech, screech, screech..."

The meteoric spear pierced through seven layers of the black wall, but its momentum waned and was then halted by the eighth layer.

Then the black mud opened its gaping maw and voraciously swallowed the spear into its abyss.

Out of nowhere, a seventh black arm sprouted from Shirou's back with a sharp "snap." It struck Achilles with tremendous force, like swatting a fly.

With a "thud," he was sent flying. The immense force caused him to roll across the dueling ground dozens of times before he finally managed to steady himself.

With the immortality granted by his heel negated in the duel field, Achilles was battered and bleeding, staring at Shirou in disbelief.

"Don't give me that look; it takes the fun out of things," Shirou sighed. "Your Noble Phantasm is quite a counter to Eternal King. It's just a shame that you're not facing Eternal King. You're facing me, Fujimaru Shirou!"

...

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