"Is there anyone who can challenge me?" Achilles roared as he rampaged across the battlefield while Karna and Vlad III clashed.
His nearly invincible chariot, driven by the immortal horses gifted by Poseidon, crushed everything in its path, hiding his only weakness—his heel. No one could stop him. Perhaps Vlad III could bring him down with his iron stakes, but locked in battle with Karna, he was too preoccupied. Achilles was free to wreak havoc unchecked.
"Tch, maybe I should just go find Cyd," Achilles muttered as he stood atop his chariot, a look of boredom crossing his face.
He relished crushing his enemies—after all, most Greek warriors did. For them, a battle was an offering to the gods, and only by utterly destroying their foes could they please the divine. Achilles had answered the summons for the chance to fight other heroes. But mere destruction, though satisfying, left him feeling empty. He longed for a worthy opponent, a fight where every blow mattered.
Born invulnerable after being dipped in the River Styx, with his only weak point being his heel, Achilles had led a charmed life, undefeated on the battlefield. Victory was his by right, but more than that, he craved a battle that would truly test him—a fight where he could risk everything.
When Achilles learned that Cyd was also a Servant in this Holy Grail War, he was thrilled. He didn't care that Cyd was the Ruler; the Grail itself was of no interest to him. Seeing Cyd in person, Achilles knew his wish had come true. He had grown up hearing stories about Cyd and had always wanted to face him.
His current goal was simple: crush the Servants of both the Red and Black factions—except for his sister—and then have an unforgettable battle with Cyd. But right now, it was all just too dull. If no worthy opponent appeared soon, he might just crash into Vlad III out of sheer frustration.
"It seems our great hero is growing impatient," Avicenna, the Black Caster, murmured, snapping his fingers from within the fortress. "But the higher you rise, the harder it is to see what's underfoot."
The chariot suddenly lurched as if caught in a mire, nearly throwing Achilles off.
"Ha! Thought you could keep charging around without a care? Check the wheels, hero. You've been caught in my trap while you weren't paying attention," a grating voice echoed in Achilles' ears.
"Unless you want your head split open, shut up," Achilles snapped, not needing to look to know it was the horse that always taunted him in dire moments. But thanks to the horse's warning, Achilles noticed the issue with his chariot.
Peering down, Achilles saw that fragments of the magical constructs had somehow adhered to the wheels, slowly piling up until they jammed the tires, merging them with the ground.
"Tch, must be their Caster's doing," Achilles muttered, casually spearing the homunculi and constructs that tried to swarm him. "But this won't stop me."
He jabbed his spear toward the clogged wheel.
"No, it's enough," a deep voice rumbled as a thick hand shot out from the smoke of shattered constructs, grabbing Achilles by the face.
"Hidden among the constructs?!" Achilles' eyes widened in shock as he instinctively raised his spear to block, but he was too late. The hand gripped his face, yanking him off the chariot.
Achilles felt like he was being strangled and dragged along by his own chariot, and the pain told him this opponent could harm him. Only one on the Black side could hurt him like this!
But the sound of hooves? Was this Archer on horseback?
"Black Archer!" Achilles roared, thrusting his spear toward his unseen assailant. Even blind, he was confident it would hit the mark.
But his opponent, the Black Archer, seemed to know the exact reach of Achilles' spear. Without even looking, he caught the spear with his other hand.
"What?!"
Before Achilles could process what was happening, he was hurled into the forest, smashing through trees before skidding to a halt by driving his spear into the ground.
"Bold move," Achilles grumbled, rubbing his sore neck. "For an Archer, you've got guts."
"Never underestimate anyone," came a familiar voice, one that made Achilles freeze.
"Achilles, your invulnerability makes you overconfident, too eager to show your strength," Chiron, emerging from the fallen trees, smiled gently with a hint of sadness. "It was my fault that you died because of it."
"Why…" Achilles stared, stunned, at the figure before him.
"I have a wish," Chiron replied, drawing his bow and aiming it at Achilles.
Achilles clenched his fists.
"You're still too naive," Chiron sighed, shaking his head. "You defeat your enemies without hesitation, but when it comes to people you know or respect, you hesitate. As a hero, that's a virtue, but in the Holy Grail War, it's a fatal flaw. Do you understand, Achilles?"
Achilles took a deep breath and nodded solemnly.
In that moment, it felt like they had returned to the past, when Chiron, both strict and kind, would gently tap Achilles on the head, guiding him through nine years of training until he became a hero on par with Heracles and Cyd. But there was one thing Achilles had always wondered.
"Teacher, there's something I've always wanted to know," Achilles said, his voice serious.
Why did his teacher secretly search for pain-relieving herbs at night?
Why did Chiron always look proud yet bitter when he spoke of Cyd?
Why… did his immortal teacher die?
He had been confused for so long, but eventually, all his questions led to one.
"Do you… regret it?"
The world praised Cyd, whether it was Achilles' father, who could never lift his head in front of his son, or his mother, the goddess of the sea, who always told him stories of Cyd. But whenever they reached the end of the tale, his father would sigh, and his mother would wear an expression of anger.
Later, Achilles heard rumors.
Zeus, king of the gods, feared Cyd, who possessed an immortal body blessed by Hades, the god of the underworld, and by all twelve Olympians. Zeus feared that one day, Cyd would overthrow him, so he sent Cyd to Tartarus to battle the former king of the gods.
Cyd would never return. He was locked in an endless war against an equally immortal foe. Even if the war reached eternity's end and their immortality faded, Cyd had no chance of survival.
But Cyd would survive. Even at the end of eternity, he would still be alive because…
"I have never regretted it," Chiron smiled warmly.
How could he, with such a student?