Clang!
An ancient golden Han sword traced a graceful arc in midair, while a crimson spear blood with rose-like brilliance. The clash between Servants occurred at speeds beyond human perception, where magic collided and ripples shimred in the void like untouchable vortices.
Clang—cling cling cling—!
The clash of tal echoed from afar, sparks flaring vividly beneath a crimson sky.
The blue lancer’s speed was astonishing. One wouldn’t guess that not long ago, he had been heavily wounded, his body covered in injuries.
"Wow, bro—you were supposed to be wrecked by Master Fu Hua, weren’t you? What a sturdy build."
With a flowing, fierce footwork, Li Sushang’s crimson eyes glead with spirited excitent. Her sword strikes grew sharper by the second.
Bang!
Parrying another sudden thrust, Li Sushang stepped sideways, retreating slightly. But her opponent lunged forward like a rabid beast, suddenly leaping and using explosive footwork and raw weight to deliver a brutal knee strike.
Li Sushang t it head-on, her fingers shaped like a blade. Clang! Her block clashed against Cú Chulainn’s knee. The ground beneath cracked with a thunderous impact, vapor swirling into the air.
Whoosh!
Sensing the blue lancer’s montum waning due to midair imbalance, Li Sushang suddenly loosened her grip on her sword and drove it downward.
Taking the opportunity, she spun the golden Han sword like a flying wheel, knocking aside Cú Chulainn’s crimson magical spear. Then, with her now-free right palm, she delivered a hamring strike with the edge of her hand.
Crack!
The crisp sound of bone shattering rang out. Without even glancing, Li Sushang reached out and caught the spinning golden sword.
"Here—take it back!"
With a slash, she embedded a burst of internal energy into Cú Chulainn’s spear.
Crack!
His left arm hung limp, dislocated. After forcibly catching the strike embedded with inner force, Cú Chulainn let out a pained grunt, plunging his spear into the ground to keep from collapsing.
"That bizarre force technique... I’ve stirred a hornet’s nest, huh? So, you’re from the sa sect as Fu Hua."
Crack!
With a twist, Cú Chulainn popped his dislocated arm back into place. Ignoring the muscle trauma caused by the inner energy, he clenched his fist, flexed his muscles, and resud a combat stance with a carefree grin.
"Fate’s a funny thing. I’ve fought three of you now, and your styles all share the sa lineage. Don’t tell all seven of you studied under the sa master?"
He silently speculated—she didn’t look that old, but her sword style, movent, and combat instinct were seamlessly integrated. No hesitation, no rough edges—pure fluidity.
Of course, that didn’t rule out so ancient monster playing young. Like his own teacher, well... cough cough. Immortality could preserve appearances, but there was no faking the youthful light in Li Sushang’s eyes.
By now, all trace of casualness had vanished from Cú Chulainn’s expression. Though visibly roughed up, his fighting spirit had only grown more intense.
"To be precise, I inherited my techniques from the Master Fu Hua. No surprise you don’t know it in this realm. Let formally introduce myself: Li Sushang, chief disciple of the Taixu Sword Sect, and direct successor of the Grandmaster Chi Yuan. I accept your challenge."
Lifting the golden Han sword between two fingers, Li Sushang gave a light hum and raised an eyebrow thoughtfully before speaking.
"Chi Yuan?"
"Mhm. Fu Hua is my Grandmaster. She’s a fifty-thousand-year-old immortal, honored as Chi Yuan."
"Huh?"
Even Cú Chulainn—known as the ’Child of Light’—froze at that. Then his voice shot up in disbelief, "fifty thousand years?!"
Translating that into human history... Paleolithic era? That made Gilgash’s title as the "Oldest King" sound a bit overstated.
Wait a second—if it’s true, wouldn’t that make her even older than Scáthach, that ancient crone?!
As his thoughts spiraled, Cú Chulainn suddenly recalled sothing irreverent. A chill ran through him, and the spear in his hand suddenly felt oddly scalding.
No way... Master?
Under Li Sushang’s puzzled gaze, Cú Chulainn suddenly slumped like a startled deer, glancing nervously around as if so terrifying being were watching him.
"So, still want to fight? I never take advantage of the weak. If you’re done, I’ll go find soone else."
"Fight! I can go all day with you!"
As if desperate to shake off that eerie pressure, Lancer Cú Chulainn surged forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.
"Then bring it!"
"Hrahh—!"
He thrust his spear forward. With a flick, the crimson shaft lashed out like a venomous serpent. His charge never faltered. Clang! He batted aside the golden Han sword aid at his throat.
Slice!
It was a bold, reckless exchange. A gash deep to the bone split open on his right arm, severing an artery, but he didn’t flinch. Bloodlust flashed in his crimson eyes, and murderous intent erupted from his core.
Using the montum of the charge, the thorned magic spear glead with red light. Letting out a battle cry, Cú Chulainn released the spear from his grip and drove it straight toward Li Sushang’s forehead.
"A true mad dog of a fighter. You remind of soone. But that’s fine. This is a duel—victory and death decided in one strike."
Still smiling, Li Sushang gauged the distance. Her cherry lips whispered, fingers forming a sword seal. Her index and middle finger gently traced the blade, infusing it with a sapphire light. The three-foot blade glowed like flowing water.
Buzz!
The overwhelming force of her sword technique twisted the air around them, like a flowing ink painting unfurling in midair.
"Sheathing the sword in my heart...."
"Gáe Bolg of the Thorned Dea—oww—!!"
Whoosh—!
With a shrill sound, a purple blur streaked through the air—faster than even Cú Chulainn’s attack. A single kick knocked him off his path.
BOOM!
"Cú Chulainn, how many tis do I have to say it? Reckless exchanges aren’t worth it."
Landing gracefully, a mature woman with a seductive, queenly aura erged, holding a crimson spear. Her voice was low and charming, tinged with cool disdain.
She wore nothing but a form-fitting, semi-transparent purple bodysuit. Statuesque and voluptuous, her figure was honed to perfect symtry, with no excess fat.
Small golden ornants adorned her outfit. Her flowing purple hair fell like a waterfall to her waist. Her brilliant crimson eyes radiated confidence. She looked no older than twenty-five, with stunning beauty and irresistible charm.
Though she revealed no skin, the tight outfit emphasized every curve of her lush, mature body, sparking boundless imagination.
"Master... so that ominous gaze was you."
"You were reckless. If I had been a second later, you’d be dead."
Her icy, elegant face turned toward Li Sushang, who hadn’t struck during the distraction. The woman gave a slow, deliberate nod. Her jade-like fingers spun the crimson spear effortlessly.
The spearpoint aid at Li Sushang.
"You have the eyes of a true warrior."
...
"Disgusting beast!"
With a snarl, Saber Mordred smashed her fist into the face of a bug-like armored creature. While it reeled, she followed up with a brutal elbow strike, slamming it into the ground.
The three-ter-tall Hunter (Mgalekgolo), after being knocked to the ground, let out a shrill, agonizing screech. Just as it raised the fuel cannon mounted on its hunter armor—ZAP!
Saber Mordred’s crimson lightning reduced it to dust.
Her task complete, click click, her helt retracted into her armor. With Clarent, the Radiant King’s Sword, slung over her shoulder, Mordred muttered, her eyes drifting toward another direction.
Her father.
Arthur.
Her grip tightened on her sword. By her usual nature, she should’ve been charging across the river to challenge Selene. But when she saw that silver-blue silhouette—she stopped.
If this were a standard Holy Grail War—without the mories of the Romania conflict, without the validation and advice from her Master Kairi Sisigou—the ’fatherly’ figure—she probably would have already drawn her sword and struck.
But that precious experience with Kairi Sisigou had changed sothing within her. Now, she felt sothing... different when facing her father.
"Hm?"
Feeling Mordred’s aggressive yet hesitant gaze, Artoria turned slowly, holding her unveiled holy sword, shining like the newborn sun.
"Sir Mordred, now is not the ti to resolve our conflict."
Still so sacred—so radiant it seed unreal. Not a human king, but sothing more.
Mordred fell silent. She had imagined countless ways to et Arthur again: with hate, curses, rage, or sorrow...
None of them matched this mont.
Her father showed no emotion. Just a calm stillness.
"Father... you truly are pitiful."
Though she hesitated, Mordred did not attack. She sighed. A flicker of loneliness passed across her face, which bore the sa noble features as Artoria.
Even after being betrayed, cursed, plotted against—her father had never once seed to hold it against her.
To give everything for the kingdom, to the point where personal feelings were too much to afford—how utterly pitiful.
Now that Mordred understood her father, the knot in her heart had loosened.
"Perhaps. Calot, Britain—everything is gone. But this was my choice, and I do not regret it. Sir Mordred, I never denied you, nor hated you. There was only one reason I did not pass the throne to you—you were unfit to be king."
With those words, Saber Artoria strode past Mordred, heading toward the Sangheili heavy artillery gathering point nearby.
"...."
After a long silence, Mordred suddenly slamd her sword into the ground, scratching her head in frustration. Then she looked up, crimson lightning surging in her eyes.
"Forget it—I don’t even know what to say! I’ll deal with these ugly bastards first!!"
...
BOOM—!
To think I’ve beco the weakest link... life is full of surprises.
In the center of the composite summoning circle, Waver Velvet dejectedly flicked open a lighter, twirling it once like a magic trick before lighting a cigar. He exhaled a plu of smoke.
So much for dignity. He slumped down onto a chunk of still-intact construction rubble, the orange fla casting a mystical glow over his now increasingly ’sage-like’ face.
The Einzbern Master was barely out of critical condition, effectively out of the fight. Tohsaka’s heir had been possessed by a god and now—ironically—was their party’s biggest carry.
Fuyuki City had beco nothing but ruins. At this point, there was nothing left to hide or protect. The civilians had likely already evacuated, so Ishtar no longer held back.
Perhaps venting her rage over her lost properties, her firepower—both in ferocity and coverage—was second only to the main battlefield across the Mion River, where Gilgash and the enemy Foreigner leader clashed.
Thinking this, Waver turned to face the nurous defensive Noble Phantasms Gilgash had placed around the summoning circle. He couldn’t help but sigh—so rich.
The oldest Hero King, no matter what Holy Grail War he participated in, remained one of humanity’s most powerful.
As for that half-baked Shirou Emiya? He’d basically skyrocketed. His innate projection and reinforcent magic surged like a divine gift, his moves becoming smoother and more refined, his sword barrage now second only to Gilgash’s.
Fujimaru Ritsuka? There was even less to say. As Chaldea’s frontline Master, he was currently advancing toward the foreign god’s position, protected by Mash, Jeanne, and several other Servants.
Before leaving, he’d handed Waver a communicator and entrusted him with guarding the complex summoning ritual circle.
"Ugh, Doctor Roman, hurry up! We still don’t have enough manpower!"
BOOM—!
Another massive tremor cut off Waver’s thoughts. Before he could even turn around, a second explosion nearly burst his eardrums, making him stumble.
When he did manage to look, he realized he wasn’t the only one. Even several of the Sangheili troops had collapsed in terror.
No doubt—it was from the Mion River’s far side, in Fuyuki’s Deep Mountain District!
That already devastated land had now beco a sea of molten lava.
The rejected debris had ford a veritable wall, blocking Waver’s vision. All he could see was a mushroom cloud towering skyward like a nuclear explosion.
The shockwave surged toward the coast, causing massive collapses, reshaping the land and triggering tidal waves.
Soon, the alien forces’ triumphant roars echoed across the battlefield. They were chanting "Victory," their morale skyrocketing as they surged toward the Servants’ defensive lines.
Waver could see it—Archer Atalanta and Chiron were struggling to hold their positions against the sheer scale of the approaching tide.
"If His Majesty were here... he’d turn the tide, surely."
He absentmindedly cut another lock of his magic-infused hair. lancholy filled his heart.
Just then, the communicator in his hand buzzed violently.
"Quick! Quick, Waver-san! Activate the summoning circle! Da Vinci-chan’s reinforcents are here!!"
At that mont, Roman’s voice sounded like heaven’s song.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
40 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon:
Patreon/DaoOfHeaven
User Comments
0 comments from readers