This Is My Holy Grail War

This was a battlefield, a ruin strewn with smoldering ash from burnt pages of knowledge.

"A trivial wish, is it? Then let's talk it over with a drink, Assassin," Rider said, pouring a ladle of red wine from a large barrel into a goblet.

"Rider…" Waver Velvet, who had just managed to climb out of the chariot, could no longer hold back his frustration. "Why did you reveal your class and true name like that?!" he yelled, his voice filled with exasperation.

"Well, my name carries some fame, doesn't it? If it convinces Assassin to join us, wouldn't that be splendid?" Rider replied with a hearty laugh, scratching the back of his head.

"You—!" What kind of fool would agree to join you?! Waver glared at Rider, fists clenched as he resisted the urge to hit him.

"Wipe the blood off your face, boy," Rider said nonchalantly. "Don't embarrass yourself in front of a guest."

Waver froze, touching his cheek in confusion. His fingers came away stained with red.

The library explosion had nearly killed him, and only now did the pain truly register, exacerbated by the sight of his own blood.

"Ugh…" Waver groaned, clutching his injuries. Then his gaze fell on Assassin, and his breath hitched.

The girl before him was a battered mess. Her dress was torn, her back slick with blood, and her left hand was twisted unnaturally. Despite her trembling hands, she gripped her sword so tightly it looked fused to the hilt.

Dried, sticky blood trailed from her hands to the golden strands of her hair, now matted against her temple.

Waver didn't know what she had endured, but the heavy sorrow in her gaze stirred pity deep within him.

The rich aroma of red wine mingled with the acrid scent of burning ash, reaching Assassin's nose.

Rider stepped off his chariot and offered her the goblet.

Wine… Assassin hesitated as she looked at the crimson liquid swirling in the cup.

"There's no need to be so tense, Assassin," Rider said as he sat cross-legged on the ground. "Relax a bit. Let me see your true form. Drinking while still disguised seems far too stiff, doesn't it?"

Assassin hesitated.

Releasing [Not For One's Own Glory] would change her appearance back to her original form—a minor detail. But the real issue was that she would lose the borrowed instincts of Artoria.

While [Mana Burst] was largely irrelevant due to her limited mana, the combination of [Instinct] and [Mind's Eye (Fake)] had saved her life numerous times.

These abilities had allowed her to survive Saber's onslaught and endure Archer and Berserker's brutal assaults. Assassin had grown deeply dependent on them, which was why she hesitated to revert to her true self.

Yet, maintaining the guise served no purpose here.

It's fine… just for now.

In the next moment, Assassin dissolved into a swirl of shadowy mist before Rider's eyes.

A chilling aura spread out, extinguishing the nearby flames that had clung stubbornly to the remnants of burned books.

When the transformation ended, Assassin stood as she had when Kirei first summoned her—a formless, spectral shadow.

The gray fog that composed her form held the goblet aloft, but just as she prepared to drink, she froze.

"No… mouth?" Rider blinked, baffled. "Well, that's an oversight on my part."

"Why not… just revert to your previous form?" Rider suggested cautiously.

"My apologies… but my previous form isn't worthy of standing alongside Heroic Spirits," Assassin murmured, her voice tinged with self-doubt.

In life, she had been an ordinary human, her body long lost to time. Reduced to a mere soul, she had been thrust into the Holy Grail War without warning.

In truth, Assassin feared how the other Heroic Spirits might view her past. Though it bore no tangible impact on her role, the thought of judgment lingered like a thorn, making it difficult to muster courage in their presence or openly discuss her own desires.

"Assassin, you've already shown your bravery and brilliance," Rider said firmly. "I dare say few Heroic Spirits shine as brightly as you."

Assassin glanced at Rider, then slowly activated [Not For One's Own Glory] once more, this time taking on Rider's appearance.

The mist solidified into a muscular, towering figure.

[Acquired B-rank skill: Tactics]

[Acquired C-rank skill: Divinity]

As she expected, Rider's physique radiated an overwhelming sense of presence, like a mountain. However, the enhancements provided by his abilities were nowhere near as impactful as Saber's.

"You turned into me, huh?" Rider muttered, rubbing his chin. Watching someone wear his face gave him an odd sense of unease.

"I think you'd be better off as Saber," he remarked. "Drinking with myself feels too much like staring into a mirror—it's downright narcissistic."

"I was originally going to mimic Archer," Assassin explained, "but I figured you wouldn't appreciate that. As for Berserker, his Noble Phantasm prevents me from copying his form.

"So in the end, I had no choice but to become you," she concluded, shifting back into Artoria's form as she spoke.

"I was just an ordinary person in life," Assassin admitted. "I died in an accident. Most of my memories are gone, and when I came to, I had already become a Servant."

"And what's wrong with that?" Rider said warmly. "Every Heroic Spirit was once an ordinary person before they became legends. Why should it matter?" He grinned. "I don't see any Heroic Spirits walking around with extra arms or legs. You're one of us now, plain and simple."

"Thank you, Rider," Assassin replied softly, taking a sip of the wine.

In an instant, a spark flashed through her mind.

Delicious!

Her pupils dilated slightly. Though her soul instinctively resisted indulgence, Artoria's body reacted truthfully, savoring the exquisite taste of the wine.

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T/N: :3