"Where the hell are we now?"
Mordred, carrying her sword over her shoulder, impatiently scanned the thick fog surrounding them. The scene stirred up some unpleasant memories for her.
"Seems like the owner of this place isn't too fond of those who don't pick sides," Kairi mused, putting on a gas mask. "The Black Faction must've been split up too. I'm guessing they're up against the worst possible opponents, while we're probably here to clean up afterward."
"Huh?"
"Well, what should we do now?" Kairi shrugged. "We don't know the layout of this floating fortress at all. Wandering around aimlessly might drop us straight into a trap."
"This whole place is a trap," Mordred grinned, swinging her sword as if ready for action. "Since we're already in, why not crash straight through to the end?"
"...And which way would that be?"
"Master, just follow me!" Mordred declared, marching ahead. With one swift kick, she shattered the wall in front of them.
"Wait, hold on! What exactly are you basing this on?" Kairi sighed.
"Instinct!"
Great… another one of her brilliant plans.
"Red Saber's 'path'…" Semiramis, lounging on her throne with legs crossed, watched the scene unfold through her familiar embedded in the walls. "Hmph. She's just guessing. No threat at all."
Meanwhile, in the other two scenes clear of the fog, Karna had already engaged Vlad III, and Achilles was preparing to unleash his Noble Phantasm. Mordred's erratic wall-breaking approach was easy to predict and posed no real danger. However, Semiramis knew she had to be ready for a fight soon.
"Black Assassin's Master," she addressed Rikudou calmly, "leave the throne room and go elsewhere."
"Huh? Isn't this the command center?" Rikudou blinked, surprised. While she wasn't trying to underestimate Semiramis, the elegant empress didn't exactly strike her as a warrior suited for direct combat.
"For my Master's sake, I don't mind lowering myself to do some fighting," Semiramis flicked her nails dismissively. "Get out now. I won't protect you once the battle starts."
After a moment's hesitation, Rikudou nodded and quietly left the room.
"What a hassle, Master… the things I do for you." Semiramis sighed before her body faded into spirit form, disappearing from the throne.
She needed to stop the remaining Black Faction Servants from interfering to ensure Karna and Achilles could take down their toughest opponents. The simplest and quickest way? Eliminate them. Fortunately, only Chiron posed any real threat. Astolfo and Frankenstein were nothing to worry about. With the power of the floating garden backing her, she had monsters aplenty to deal with, including a creature perfect for handling the famed teacher of Greek heroes.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
n his spear lightly, his confident gaze locking onto Siegfried.
"I know," Siegfried responded, his expression unwavering.
"Yet, even knowing that you still intend to fight," Achilles said, gripping his spear tightly. "And you think you can win."
"Yes," Siegfried replied earnestly. "Because my Master expects it. And I will meet his expectations."
Achilles grinned. "Good! You're worthy!"
With a quick motion, Achilles hurled his spear high into the sky.
"Go forth, my spear, my will! Strike the heavens, Star-Shattering Spear!"
"His Noble Phantasm! Saber, dodge it!" Gordes' eyes widened in panic.
But Siegfried didn't move. He watched as the spear descended. There was no killing intent in its trajectory, no indication that it was aimed at him. Dodging would be pointless if it had a lock-on effect. It's better to deflect it with his sword.
The spear embedded itself into the ground with a simple, unceremonious thud. Siegfried hesitated for a moment, but an overwhelming sense of danger made him instinctively raise his sword in defense.
The world shifted around him.
"This technique," Achilles said, cracking his neck as the arena formed around them, "was something I developed to corner a particularly elusive foe. A perfectly fair battleground where both sides are equal."
"A fair fight?" Siegfried clenched his fists, assessing his new surroundings.
"That's right. No divinity, no tricks. If you get hit, you bleed. If a bone breaks, it breaks. And if you die here, you die for real," Achilles spread his arms wide. "No harm will come to your Master. The moment our battle concludes, the result will be decided outside as well."
It was a reckless, almost foolish choice—to voluntarily give up his advantage in favor of a fair fight. But this was Achilles. He didn't care about crushing his enemies with overwhelming power. What he craved was the thrill of a true clash between heroes.
Siegfried was a hero deserving of such a duel.
"I accept your challenge," Siegfried nodded, glancing down at his sword.
"You can keep your sword," Achilles said, stepping forward and pulling his spear from the ground. "There's no fun in defeating an unarmed man."
"Thank you!" Siegfried raised his silver blade. "I am Black Faction's Saber—Siegfried."
"Red Faction's Rider—Achilles," Achilles crouched into a ready stance.
"In a fair, honorable duel—"
"We settle this!"
Both warriors roared as they charged, their weapons clashing with a deafening crash. Sparks flew from the meeting of Siegfried's sword and Achilles' spear, lighting up their determined faces.
Even without their usual advantages, they were still heroes!
Achilles attacked with a barrage of spear thrusts, as relentless as a torrential downpour. Any normal person would have been skewered a dozen times over, but Siegfried deflected each strike, his sword moving like a gust of wind through the storm. Step by step, he pressed forward, forcing Achilles into his range with swordsmanship that transcended human limits.
CLANG!
Achilles' spear was knocked upward, leaving his guard wide open. Without hesitation, Siegfried spun and slashed toward Achilles' chest.
But Achilles smirked.
In an instant, he ducked low, his fists shooting out. One hand struck Siegfried's sword, knocking it aside, while the other punched straight into Siegfried's stomach. The force was immense, driving Achilles' fist deep into Siegfried's gut.
BOOM!
Siegfried was launched like a cannonball, slamming hard into a wall.
"My spear skills may not be on par with Red Lancer's," Achilles glanced at his own leg, already bleeding to the bone from Siegfried's earlier strike, "but I'm more than confident in my hand-to-hand combat."
SPLINTER.
Siegfried pulled himself from the rubble, blood dripping from his forehead and his abdomen unnaturally dented.
"Thanks for the lesson," Siegfried exhaled slowly.
His memories surged back—the time when he, a mere man, had fought and slain the wicked dragon Fafnir.
"I will win!"