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It was a peculiar knife with a slender blade, lacking in practical use. Unlike the magus' finger used earlier, which could auto-target an opponent's forehead, this knife had no such capability.
However, once it hit, it meant death.
Well, maybe not immediate death for a Servant, but it would certainly be excruciating. After all, neither the great sage Chiron nor the mightiest hero Heracles from Greek mythology could withstand its poison.
When Sisigou joined this Holy Grail War, he received a formalin-preserved Hydra hatchling as advance payment. Sisigou had each of its nine heads processed into various weapons and auxiliary tools. This was Sisigou's trump card, a deadly poisonous Mystic Code used in combat.
Although he wasn't sure if he could successfully poison the Black Lancer, he had no choice but to bet everything now. He couldn't just hold onto his trump card and die.
Just as he resolved to go all out, the Black Lancer, who had knocked Mordred away, stopped her advance. Instead, she scrutinized Sisigou with a searching gaze before shifting her attention to Mordred.
"Is this your wish, Mordred?"
Feeling the confusion, surprise, and disbelief in that gaze, a surge of anger flared in Mordred's chest, reigniting her once-lifeless spirit.
"Yes, I want to become the King of Britain!"
"Oh..."
The drawn-out tone made Mordred extremely uncomfortable.
"Hmph, what you can do, I can do too!"
"I see." Artoria didn't offer a direct evaluation. She looked at Sisigou, who was standing nearby in a daze. "Magus over there, do you think Mordred can become a king?"
"Of course," Sisigou answered firmly, without a hint of hesitation. "I believe she has the capability and the qualities. If I were King Arthur, I would have passed the throne to her long ago."
"Master..." No matter how tough Mordred was, she was deeply moved at this moment. Her father didn't believe in her, but her Master did. Such precious support was invaluable.
"It seems you've found a good Master, Mordred."
Mordred gave a thumbs-up and grinned at her Master. "Of course, my Master is the best."
Sisigou mirrored the gesture. "You're the best Servant too."
"It seems you've encountered an excellent Master," Artoria's lance stirred the air. "Let me see how far you can go. Are you ready, Mordred? This time, don't let me defeat you so easily."
"Don't worry, this time, I'll defeat you—Knight of Crimson Thunder!"
The magic, driven by emotion, roared and radiated, cutting through the night and illuminating both Mordred and Sisigou, who stood in a flanking position.
"I'm going in!"
Mordred's shout ignited the tense atmosphere.
The Red Saber and the Black Lancer—both surged forward toward each other.
Saber aimed to cleave down from above with a wave-like, overwhelming force to cut her opponent in two.
Meanwhile, Lancer, with equally unyielding momentum, thrust her lance straight at the opponent's heart.
Both were engaging in a frontal assault, surpassing human capabilities. Upon collision, their clash would surely erupt into a magnificent burst of magical energy, a height that almost no modern magus could ever hope to reach in their lifetime.
However, the expected clash was interrupted by Sisigou's shout of "Saber!"
Undoubtedly, Sisigou had complete trust in his partner.
Even so, he still felt a twinge of unease—not towards the two Servants before him, but something more distant and indescribable. At that moment, he felt a needle-like pain in his hand, a feedback signal from the bounded field he had set up around the area.
There was an intruder!!!
Mordred was concerned by her Master's call. There was some significance behind it; otherwise, he wouldn't have called her name.
As she realized this, a chill ran down her spine.
Although she didn't know where the attack would come from, she was certain that someone had her in their sights.
Whether it was a long-distance throw or a shot, if things continued like this, she would die!!
Her body reacted faster than her mind. She applied a slight brake to her rapid charge, forcing her body to deviate from its original path. This was the only action she could take at that moment.
Artoria's reaction was almost identical. The two of them, as if rehearsed, changed direction simultaneously.
In that instant, an explosion and a thunderous roar enveloped their red and white figures.
The magical energy, not inferior to "Knight of Crimson Thunder" and "Invisible Air," swept across the cobblestone street beneath their feet like a cannonball. If the two Servants had not been clad in heavy armor, this single arrow would have caused them significant harm.
And this was just the beginning of the assault.
Before the surging magical energy dissipated, the second wave of attacks descended from the sky. Three strikes, faster than the eye could follow, came down. One burrowed into the dust stirred by the magical energy, while the other two targeted Sisigou directly.
Necromancers begin their training by confronting their death. They apply illusions to themselves, repeatedly observing their bodies decay. They must become accustomed to seeing themselves rot and degrade in a mirror. They must face death, embrace it, and understand the coexistence of life and death.
Sisigou, having dealt with death for years, had a keener sense of it than anyone else. However, these two attacks were too fast, far beyond his reaction speed. By the time he realized something was wrong, the attacks were already upon him.
In the nick of time, the magical dust before him split in two. A silver glow, accompanied by red lightning, roared past Sisigou's head, deflecting the two attacks aimed at his vital points.
"Master, be careful!" Mordred's voice came almost simultaneously with her action. However, she wasn't moving towards him. She hadn't recovered from the first wave of attacks; saving her Master by throwing her sword was already her limit, costing her an arrow in her left arm—confirming the enemy was an Archer!
As Mordred struggled to regain her stance, the third wave of attacks arrived. Again, three arrows, but more vicious, all aimed at the weakest link among the three—Sisigou.
"Master, take cover!!!" Mordred's eyes widened with rage. Without her weapon, she had no way to support her Master. Without her Master's magical supply, her journey in the Holy Grail War would end.
Fortunately, although she couldn't save him, someone else could—the Knight King, Artoria.
Mordred had her back to Sisigou and used all her strength to detect the crisis, change direction, and throw her sword. Artoria, on the other hand, only had to change direction, which placed her closer to Sisigou.
As the third wave of attacks arrived, she rushed forward without hesitation, pushing Sisigou out of the way.
The impact was so strong that Shishigou felt like his bones were about to shatter, but it was far better than losing his life.
As she came to a stop, Artoria saw the city's prominent structure—the clock tower.
At the top of the clock tower, under the faint moonlight, were three figures. One of them was aiming a bow at them.