The more Shinji spoke, the softer his voice became, and his expression grew increasingly gentle, until he finally revealed a slight smile.
However, to Astolfo, this smile was more terrifying than Vlad III's stakes or Atalanta's Arrows. The sinister aura emanating from that smile made his hair stand on end.
The punishment described with such a smile made the intuitively sharp Astolfo tremble all over.
Assassin wasn't joking or trying to scare him; he was serious and would follow through.
In the past, relying on his body that could only be harmed by mysteries and his A-rank Magic Resistance, Astolfo didn't care about Celenike's punishments. After all, the tools in her workshop were either useless or felt no different than a tickle. He wasn't afraid of other punishments like confinement or being tied up either.
But if it were really as Shinji said, that would be a completely different matter. Without even seeing it, he knew how twisted that deathly black magus was. Previously, her lack of power made her non-threatening. Once given the ability to turn her ideas into reality—though Astolfo didn't know exactly what kind of punishment it would be—the unknown itself was the greatest terror.
In the blink of an eye, cold sweat broke out on Astolfo, and his fearless demeanor vanished. He looked like a shivering hamster, helplessly saying:
"I-I understand, I won't do anything reckless."
"That's good."
Seeing Astolfo's frightened look, Shinji's expression softened.
"Remember, you carry the lives of many people, including mine. You are our ace."
"Ace?"
Astolfo's eyes lit up.
"You mean—"
"Endure for now; your time to shine will come."
As Shinji spoke, he cast a meaningful glance at the silent Hanging Gardens.
"In any case, leave the aerial matters to you. If you can draw half of its firepower, that would be a great merit!"
"And you?"
"Me? I need to keep an eye on a certain thieving cat!"
Shinji pressed a hand on Astolfo's shoulder and leaped up, floating in the air with the help of feathered shoes.
"Luring Spartacus to attack the Ruler was a brilliant move. It not only took down one of our pieces but also freed up their combat strength. However, whether this clever plan will succeed depends on whether I allow it!"
With a wave of his hand, a black-gold war lance materialized in the air. He launched it at Atalanta, who had just completed her diversionary task and was preparing to retreat!
The war lance, which had once killed the great mountain, traced a brilliant arc in the sky, its luster identical to the mythological Venus—the war lance's owner, Ishtar, was the goddess of Venus!
◇◇◇
It was only natural for Achilles to be thrown into disarray.
To his younger self, Chiron was an absolute symbol. The words of the gentle yet stern Chiron had an almost magical effect on the young Achilles' heart.
To Achilles, Chiron was both a father and a teacher; both an elder brother and a good friend. For a hero's son, blessed by the gods of Olympus and admired and revered by soldiers at a young age, people he could call friends or teachers were extremely rare.
Chiron was undoubtedly one of them. He was as trustworthy to Achilles as his good friend Patroclus.
Yet now, that hero was standing in his way, seeking the Holy Grail.
"—Here I come, Teacher."
"That's unnecessary, Red Rider."
Chiron's stern response caused Achilles to shrink back slightly, but he quickly regained his spirit and thrust his spear boldly. The battle began within talking distance, portraying a scenario where an archer was approached and attacked by a light-armored warrior.
Despite harboring a slight sense of guilt, Achilles aimed his spear sharply at his opponent's heart. With his spear skills that could rank him among the top Lancers, a typical Archer would have already been pierced through the heart.
However, he forgot the most fatal point.
To Achilles' astonished eyes, Chiron didn't retreat but instead stepped forward into the path of the spear. This seemingly suicidal step diverted the spear's point from Chiron's heart to beside him.
"What...!!"
"Have you forgotten, Rider? Who was it that gave you this spear and taught you the basics of spear fighting?"
Chiron's words struck Achilles with tremendous impact.
Indeed, as he said, Achilles' spear techniques were not self-taught but originally learned from his master, Chiron. It was only natural that his body's every move and habit were seen through. Moreover, this spear was a gift from Chiron to Achilles' father, Peleus, to celebrate his parents' wedding, so Chiron knew its attack range perfectly.
Chiron then demonstrated his astonishing skill. As he stepped forward, he had already set an arrow on the bowstring. It was practically a quick shot, an unavoidable strike from zero distance.
"—You will die, Rider."
Chiron aimed at Achilles' skull and released the arrow without hesitation.
Achilles reflexively bent backward to dodge. Only through incredible speed and determination did he barely escape this life-or-death crisis.
At that moment, Chiron launched a kick. Achilles, off-balance, was kicked away and slammed into a tree. As the distance widened, Chiron set another arrow on the bowstring.
A switch flipped in Achilles' mind. He gritted his teeth, glared resolutely at his teacher, and charged straight at the incoming arrow. Dodging the arrow with a forward-leaning posture, he immediately raised his spear for a sweeping attack—only to miss.
A strange joy welled up inside him.
Roaring, he continued to thrust his spear.
Chiron dodged the rapid, bullet-like spear thrusts, adjusting the distance skillfully while setting an arrow on his bowstring.
Thinking an archer couldn't engage in close combat and that entering the spear's range would secure victory—this previous notion of his was utterly foolish. His opponent was Chiron, after all. Not only himself but even heroes like Hercules, Jason, Castor, and Asclepius, among many others, had been taught by him. He was truly a great sage.
In close quarters, he could barely fight to a draw. Given this premise, if he didn't go all out with his full strength, he lose...!
Achilles launched a fierce offensive against Chiron, using thrusts, sweeps, and feints.
Chiron, meanwhile, dodged, blocked with his bow, and even used combinations of punches and kicks. Whenever he saw an opening, he would draw his bow and shoot.
Achilles' body was grazed by the close-range shots. Even his body, blessed by the gods, was defenseless against the attacks from the similarly "divine" attack from Chiron.
All his attacks were anticipated, while Chiron's strikes were unpredictable at critical moments. Though he could maintain a balanced state thanks to his inherent physical strength, continuing this way would surely drive him into a corner.
The reason his moves were being anticipated was that all his fundamentals came from the man before him. This included his posture, the timing of his thrusts, and even his sweeping and other techniques.
—Do not be confused.
The basics were indeed taught by Chiron. However, since his youth when he began engaging in battles, Achilles hadn't relied solely on these fundamentals to achieve victory. He had developed various applied skills and had found ways to survive in desperate situations. He had fought many heroes and continually honed his techniques.
In various battles, and in numerous crises, how had he found a way to survive? Yes, for instance, at that time—
Achilles' movements changed. Instead of using basic skills combined with overwhelming speed to force a breakthrough, he began incorporating various clever variations into his techniques.
He suddenly let go of his spear, and in the next instant, he used what was originally his fatal weak point—his "heel"—to kick towards Chiron's face.
First, he kicked up the falling spear, then leaped into the air to catch it, and immediately swung it to thrust at his target. The spear tip grazed Chiron's neck, causing blood to spurt out.
"Ugh...!!"
Chiron couldn't help but pull back. As if to say, "How about that?" Achilles casually twirled his spear.
Their gazes crossed, and both revealed fearless smiles.
"—Hmm, so you do have the strength to become a hero."
"Of course. Unlike you, who only taught others, I have experienced countless battlefields."
He had crossed swords with many heroes, fought them, and even had soul-deep exchanges. Indeed, he had learned the basics from Chiron. But the numerous corpses he had accumulated in battle were an undeniable fact for Chiron as well.
"Ah, that's good. After all, it's painful to unilaterally slaughter one's student."
Chiron said with a smile, and Achilles also smiled.
He had already cast aside his hesitation about fighting his mentor. Now, there was only the joy of battling a strong opponent.
Achilles was hesitating—should he close the distance, or should he widen it? Although logically, closing the distance to launch an attack was the most reasonable approach, perhaps it was time to abandon conventional thinking.
The spear he held was originally intended for throwing, a weapon designed to break through all defenses and pierce a hero's chest. Chiron knew better than anyone the terror of this spear, having been the one to gift it.
—So, what should I do?
Their gazes met. Red Rider and Black Archer—both observed each other's every move, planning their next action.
Both wore smiles on their faces. There was indeed a bond between them. Mentor and disciple, friends who deeply trusted each other—from the bottom of their hearts, they felt a strong "joy" that overflowed in their hearts, even after setting aside this bond.