This Is My Holy Grail War

Lancer had discovered another Servant capable of matching his pace!

This revelation both surprised and delighted him. He had long yearned for the opportunity to cross blades with a worthy opponent, one who could truly challenge him.

The Holy Grail had informed Lancer of the premise of this grand ritual—a gathering of heroes across eras to prove, through valor and might, who was most deserving of the omnipotent wish-granting chalice.

To Lancer, it was nothing less than a knight's tournament. Though the context differed, he perceived it as such and vowed to present the Grail to his lord. This time, he would serve loyally to the bitter end.

Even before the battle began, Lancer had always respected his opponents, often overestimating them. Yet surprises continued to arise.

He had unshakable confidence in his speed. Even in the Age of Gods, there were only a handful who could rival his agility. Not even the most renowned heroes of his time had been able to keep up with him!

Now, his knightly spirit burned fiercely within him, and he could hardly wait to unveil his spear. Upon arriving at a secluded location, he came to a halt.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the deepest alleys of the residential district shrouded in shadow. Here, he did not need to worry about exposing the supernatural or being constrained by the size of the battlefield. Lancer could fight freely.

His true name was Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, a hero celebrated in Celtic mythology for his unparalleled agility. His steps were light and swift, and his legend spoke of an untiring, formidable warrior.

Agility… Yes.

Meanwhile, Assassin had been hunting for Lancer, drawn not by personal glory but by something deeper.

It was not Lancer's appearance but his attributes that intrigued Assassin. They understood that the Servant who suited them best was not Saber but this swift and agile warrior.

Assassin scrutinized Lancer from head to toe, observing every detail, while Lancer's spear-tip hovered, pointed directly at them.

"May I ask which Servant you are?" Lancer inquired, his voice steady yet tinged with curiosity.

Unable to conceal themselves any longer, Assassin revealed their form.

"Servant Assassin, I greet you, Lancer."

As Assassin spoke, their transformation began. Upon shedding their Spirit Form, they immediately assumed Lancer's appearance.

Like a gentleman, they bowed and spoke in a refined manner. However, midway through their gesture, they faltered.

[Acquired B-rank skill: Mind's Eye (True).]

[Acquired B-rank skill: Knight's Strategy]

[Acquired C-rank skill: Love Spot.]

Assassin had successfully replicated Diarmuid's prowess, but there was a flaw in their calculations.

Diarmuid was indeed a formidable warrior with excellent compatibility for Assassin's attributes. However, there was a conflict in the skills.

Where Assassin had A-rank [Mind's Eye (Fake)], Diarmuid had B-rank [Mind's Eye (True)]. The two skills overlapped, and rather than enhancing Assassin's combat prowess, the transformation rendered it stagnant.

[Knight's Strategy] provided minimal benefit, while [Love Spot] was entirely useless in battle.

Realizing the failure of their transformation, Assassin stood motionless, momentarily paralyzed. This was far from the result they had anticipated.

Assassin quickly adapted, reverting to the nimble frame of Saber.

By abandoning Lancer's form and skills, Assassin reclaimed the body of Artoria.

Now facing a Servant renowned for their close-combat prowess and possessing an A+ rank in Agility, Assassin understood the stakes. With such speed, even the smallest lapse in focus could lead to a fatal blow.

To contend with Lancer, Assassin could only rely on Saber's [Instinct] skill, combined with their [Mind's Eye (Fake)], to navigate the fight.

"Just like looking into a mirror!" Lancer exclaimed with amusement. "Greeting others using their own form—this must be your style, Assassin?" He smirked. Encountering such an unusual adversary right away had delighted him. "You certainly have a sense of humor, don't you?"

Assassin, unable to respond, flushed slightly. They had simply made an error in judgment but could not bring themselves to admit it.

Silence met silence, and Lancer could no longer contain his eagerness. He frowned slightly before issuing a challenge. "You don't seem particularly talkative, Assassin. But since you've revealed yourself, it's clear you desire the Holy Grail—to prove your worth through battle, correct?" He twirled his spear in a fluid motion, his body language brimming with anticipation.

Assassin shook their head silently.

"Then what is your purpose?" Lancer pressed.

"There have been countless civilians slaughtered in this city. Do you know anything about that?" Assassin questioned. Their inquiry was part of a ploy, orchestrated by Kirei Kotomine, to gauge Lancer's reaction.

"Slaughtered civilians?!" Lancer's brow furrowed deeply, his expression darkening.

"My goal is to investigate this. Battle can wait," Assassin added, their voice steady. "This is important."

Lancer, a noble and honorable knight, would never turn a blind eye to such atrocities—this, Assassin was certain of.

"Is that why you've followed me, to investigate this matter?" Lancer asked as he sought guidance from his Master, Kayneth.

"Yes," Assassin replied.

Moments later, Lancer declared loudly, as per his Master's command: "My lord is Kayneth Archibald El-Melloi, one of the Twelve Lords of the Clock Tower and the ninth head of the Archibald family!"

He took pride in his proclamation, his voice free of hesitation or shame.

"Surely your Master has heard of this name?" he added, awaiting a response.

"Indeed," Assassin nodded.

"I swear upon my honor as a knight, my Master would never commit such heinous acts!" Lancer's crimson spear swung into position, its tip exuding a chilling aura that seemed to pierce through Assassin.

The palpable killing intent froze Assassin in place, though they could not discern whether it was directed at them or at the true perpetrator, Caster.

But Assassin knew the power of the crimson spear in Lancer's hands.

[Gáe Dearg, Crimson Rose of Exorcism]. Even Saber's A-rank magical armor would be cleaved effortlessly by this spear.

For Assassin, lacking sufficient magical energy to maintain armor, this was irrelevant.

However, the true threat lay in the spear's ability to disrupt magical energy. If Lancer unleashed its full power, Assassin would be left defenseless, stripped of any enhanced capabilities.

Armed only with an ordinary sword, Assassin lacked the means to counter a Noble Phantasm. Their only option was to reinforce the blade with what little magical energy they possessed.

If Lancer grew serious, the crimson spear would be lethal.

I must not let him remove the seals restricting the spear's power…

In legend, Diarmuid once walked the sharp edge of a blade three times, and now Assassin felt as though they danced on the tip of a knife, every moment teetering on the brink of peril.