Chapter 413: [413] The End of the Skirmish

The wind rose from the scarred land.

The stagnant air began to surge wildly, gathering at a single point in the sky. Wind was the flow of air—gentle breezes from distant places, barely perceptible at first, but as it drew closer, it accelerated like a flowing stream, eventually transforming into a raging river.

When the others turned their heads with a vague sense of foreboding, they saw an expanse of azure mist coalescing in the sky, solidifying into what seemed like an army of thousands.

"This is..." Siegfried stood firm, unmoved by the gathering gale, while ahead of him, Karna mused thoughtfully before finishing the sentence.

"—A Noble Phantasm!"

Without a doubt, in another battle, someone had unleashed their Noble Phantasm!

The question was—who had activated it? And against whom would such a colossal storm be directed?

Both Servants and Masters held their breaths, looking up. In the nearly frozen space, they saw a black-robed figure gripping an indistinct spear midair, pointing it toward another black-robed figure wielding a pistol in the distance.

Charge!

As if an invisible command had been issued, the hurricane roared forth, breaking free from its confines. The gale transformed into a colossal whale, into countless soldiers clad in armor, into cavalry and blades, shattering the sea of clouds before crashing down with earth-shaking force!

"O wind..."

Lethal killing intent loomed dangerously close. The young man’s hood was blown back, his white hair whipping wildly, yet his rainbow-blue eyes grew distant, as if catching a glimpse of phantoms from the past.

There had once been a god of slaughter who rode at the head of thousands, galloping freely across foreign lands by the Mediterranean.

Even if only for a fleeting moment, that grandeur and majesty still echoed in the young man’s chest.

Compared to that, the storm before him was nothing more than rootless duckweed.

"I am... the bone of my sword!"

A large portion of his magical energy was drained as a spiraling arrowhead fell into his palm, clad in iron and fire, forged into a prismatic bullet.

Load. Chamber. His robes flapped wildly, yet even as he fell, he steadily pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The gunshot drowned out all other sounds. The bullet, carrying enough force to shatter mountains, cleanly split the storm apart along the path of the death line.

Magical energy clashed against magical energy, exploding. Nothing remained—neither the wind, nor the bullet, nor the darkness that had shrouded the world. All vanished in the collision between the Spiral Sword and the Barrier of the Wind King.

Only the rainbow’s radiance remained, tracing the final arc across the clear sky.

"This... this is..." Gordes could only feel his lips go dry. Compared to the perilous close-quarters combat between Karna and Siegfried, the Noble Phantasm clash between Sakatsuki and Artoria was undeniably more spectacular in terms of sheer spectacle.

Not just him—even the Masters observing through magecraft were left dumbstruck, their understanding of these two’s strength completely renewed.

"So, this is the Assassin who defeated me." Vlad III remained expressionless, yet the veins on his hand gripping the throne bulged violently.

As a king, he would not deny his defeat. But as he watched the black-robed Assassin wielding a crimson demonic spear, standing toe-to-toe with him in battle, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

"However, my brethren are no less formidable than him."

"So... strong..." Caules watched the Servants battling with such force that their clashes affected the surrounding hundred miles, swallowing hard before glancing at his Berserker beside him.

"..." Fran, clad in pure white bridal attire, silently turned her head away, ignoring his hopeful gaze.

"Chiron, are these the opponents we must face?" Fiore looked at the devastation around them, her face pale.

The centaur sage didn’t speak. He quietly grasped Fiore’s hand, conveying warmth and strength.

"Teacher, can homunculi attain power like theirs?" Roche looked up at his revered mentor with pure, fervent eyes.

Without hesitation, Avicebron answered: "It can be done... no, it must be done. Especially with that."

Amidst the harmonious atmosphere, only the Rider pair remained silent. Astolfo watched Celenike’s nearly contorted expression, covering his mouth, not daring to make a sound.

In his simple mind, an unshakable doubt lingered.

Why didn’t his Master seem angry, but rather... afraid?

What was Celenike, the black magus, so terrified of?

———

The battle between Servants had surpassed their Masters’ expectations, yet to the Servants themselves, while surprising, it wasn’t beyond reach.

However, this stage’s time had reached its end. It was time for the curtain to fall.

Karna and Siegfried had already separated, while Sakatsuki, after breaking through Invisible Air, landed lightly beside Karna.

Artoria adjusted her hood with her left hand, ensuring her face remained concealed, then stepped back slowly, standing ready alongside Siegfried.

"If this continues, we’ll fight until the sun fully rises... Though I don’t mind, your Master seems to have grown weary."

Karna spoke calmly. Siegfried glanced at the sweat-drenched Gordes, exchanged a look with Artoria beside him, then straightened from his combat stance.

"I hope next time we can fight without restraint."

"Indeed. Black Saber, I am sincerely grateful for the fortune of facing you in our first battle."

This was no exaggeration from the Red Lancer—it carried the bond of warriors.

"The dream of ’defeating you with my sword, my spear’ was like that of an earnest youth."

Bathed in the dawn’s light, the son of the sun god remained composed as his body gradually dissolved into spiritrons. Beside him, Sakatsuki—who hadn’t concealed his face—let out a low chuckle and aimed a mocking finger-gun at Gordes, the anchor point of his surveillance magecraft, mouthing a silent taunt.

This had merely been a skirmish sparked by Ruler’s presence. Sakatsuki and Artoria had come only to demonstrate their capabilities to both factions.

The earlier Noble Phantasm collision was more than enough.

"Wait, please—Mr. Sakatsuki!"

Jeanne d’Arc tried to stop him, but Sakatsuki merely withdrew his hand, glanced at her, and smirked.

"We’ll meet again."

With the Red Faction present, now wasn’t the time to converse with Jeanne.

His black robes swirled, and the young man vanished without a trace.

Beneath the lavender sky heralding dawn, Jeanne d’Arc maintained her outstretched hand, gazing thoughtfully at the spot where Sakatsuki had vanished.

She still had many questions for him—why she couldn’t discern his class, why he chose to stand with the Red Faction, and most importantly...

[Focus on him. He will be pivotal in this Holy Grail War.]

"What exactly does this Revelation mean..." the golden-haired maiden murmured, her eyes clouded with lingering confusion.