Chapter 571

Chapter 571: The Chaotic Master-Servant Pairing

Regardless of Draco’s current state of mind, the fact remained that she had spectacularly lost her contracted partner. As for Sakatsuki’s whereabouts—well, that was predictable.

Indeed, after his entanglement with a certain dragon, the young man ultimately failed to escape the tragic fate of a non-believer, honorably transitioning into a mere Servant. However, since their powers were evenly matched, both sides gained and lost something in the process. Draco became a Master-Servant hybrid, essentially turning into a larger version of Nero, while Sakatsuki, though forcibly transformed into a Servant, at least avoided the humiliation of being pinned beneath Draco in eighteen different compromising positions.

Instead, the Moon Cell, detecting an anomalous access, flagged him as a bug and treated him like a Tetris block, slotting him into another awakening site that had been intercepted by a deeper "bond."

Though he had taken a full-powered strike from the little red dragon, Sakatsuki was, after all, a seasoned summoner. Betrayal had become second nature to him, so even as his fate as a Servant was sealed and he and Draco plummeted into the Empyrean, he remained calm in the face of chaos. In an instant, he devised a counterattack—without hesitation, the moment he saw Draco, he would rush forward, silence her by any means necessary, charm her, and then execute a combo of E-Q-A-Q-R for the kill.

As for how to silence her... well, mouth-to-mouth, of course. While lolicon tendencies were unacceptable, a little teasing without crossing the line was harmless. Besides, Sakatsuki was confident that the moment their lips met, no matter how furious Draco was, her anger would dissipate. She might even blink shyly and glance around, displaying an adorable side completely unlike Nero’s.

Once everything settled, he could think about how to properly discipline this disobedient little red dragon—make her bite the sheets and beg for mercy!

Such were Sakatsuki’s malicious thoughts. As for why he was so skilled at this... well, he was an old scoundrel, through and through.

As the summoning light receded like the tide, Sakatsuki caught a glimpse of a familiar red figure through the haze. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist, tilted her face up, and kissed her—boldly, naturally, treating her struggles as nothing more than tsundere resistance.

Hakuno Kishinami, weakened from blood loss, was like a helpless lamb caught in the jaws of Sakatsuki, the big bad wolf. The overwhelming heat of his masculinity washed over her, and she could only weakly flutter her lashes, her legs giving out as she collapsed into his arms. Her arms dangled limply, tears welling at the corners of her eyes—whether from humiliation or unconscious emotion, it was impossible to tell.

It was like being swallowed by the ocean, or burned alive by flames. The girl experienced something intensely stimulating and forceful, unlike anything she had ever known.

—At least, until the mischievous summoning light finally faded from Sakatsuki’s vision, allowing him to see exactly who he was holding.

As if electrocuted, Sakatsuki released his hands, only to catch Shirou again before she could fall. Blinking rapidly, he stared in shock at the girl in his arms. Her chestnut hair cascaded like water over his chest as she lay pale and unconscious against him. The only resemblance to Draco was the vast expanse of red blooming across her chest—not merely a metaphor, but real, seeping blood from a vicious wound.

An ordinary person might have already succumbed to such an injury, but this girl’s physical defense was astonishingly high, allowing her to cling to life until Sakatsuki arrived, now hovering at the brink of death. Without hesitation, he placed his hand over the wound, activating the Third Magic amidst a softness far different from the little red dragon’s. With that, he kicked Death halfway through the door and carefully laid Shirou down, turning to face the red-robed martial artist.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Thanks for holding back your fists for now."

"Hmm... That look in your eyes—do I know you?" The red-haired martial artist raised his hands, settling into a stance. "Interesting. If you know what kind of man I am, save the gratitude. A weirdo who shows up out of nowhere and kisses a beauty? Even I and my Master would need to be cautious."

"My, my, how embarrassing." Sakatsuki grinned like an awkward young man before clenching his own fists and sinking into a stance. "As you can see, this girl needs urgent treatment. But I doubt you’ll let me leave so easily, old-timer?"

The red-haired warrior narrowed his eyes, and the world instantly darkened under the weight of his killing intent. "Seems you really do know me."

A gust of wind erupted as his foot shifted. Before Sakatsuki could react, the crimson robe crashed into him. Amid the thunderous impact, a sharp, ruthless face appeared inches from his own, eyes blazing with unmistakable bloodlust.

"—Then give it your all to satisfy my hunger!"

A leap spanning dozens of meters—so fast even enhanced vision couldn’t track it! All Sakatsuki could register were the bulging muscles of the man’s arms and the ironclad fury etched into his red-haired, black-eyed visage.

Like a wrathful deity of vengeance!

He was dead.

His enhanced sight barely kept up with the Servant’s movement, but that was all. The man in the dark robe observed the frozen scene, watching as the boy—still in his stance, the crushing fist mere inches away—was dismissed as little more than scrap.

He still remembered the brutal price the Western conglomerates had paid to wrest this Servant from the Eastern magi. That was why these iron fists, baptized in the bones and blood of countless lives, had been honed to such lethal sharpness.

Among the Masters hunted in the awakening grounds, some had succeeded in summoning Servants—some even of notable renown. Yet without exception, every hero had fallen to a single strike from this red-robed warrior, sent scrambling back to their thrones in terror.

Though caution had cost him time, this strange Servant would be no different. He, too, would meet a miserable end beneath the infamous "One Strike, Certain Kill" fist.

Yet just as the man turned away, refusing to look, a deafening explosion erupted behind him—like the tolling of a morning bell or the drumbeat of dusk—resounding through the land of awakening, causing the world itself to emit an unimaginable sound of shattering.

This was not the sound of overwhelming destruction. Rather, it was akin to the collision of two great mountains, Taihang and Wangwu, locked in an earth-shaking struggle!

In stunned disbelief, the man whirled around, his hair whipped upward by the tsunami-like shockwave. At the eye of the storm, two fists met in perfect opposition—knuckles stark, blood droplets scattering—making it impossible to discern which was the hammer and which the temple bell. Or perhaps... both were!

This was impossible!

No one should have been able to block this strike!

This was the pinnacle of Chinese martial arts, a killing blow far surpassing any assassination—an unstoppable, one-hit annihilation!

How could someone intercept it with sheer offense?!

The man in dark robes’ pupils constricted. Beneath his incredulous gaze, his Servant’s face twisted into a ferocious expression, a mix of astonishment and exhilaration, as the youth opposite him merely chuckled lightly. In perfect sync, they stepped back, arms swinging like mirrored reflections—or like the taut limbs of a great ox-horn bow—before their clenched fists collided once more!

The heart-stopping roar of impact erupted again, as though heaven and earth were being forced together in the warriors’ grasp, only to be violently pried apart by Sakatsuki. The sky fractured, countless falling shards swallowed by the abyssal sea, churning up monstrous waves. The tangible force of destruction surged into their bodies, searing through every tendon, every muscle, every vertebra...

Thus, thunder roared, the earth drummed, and amidst the crackling of bones, both Sakatsuki and the crimson-robed martial artist transformed their agony into savage, beast-like grins!

In literature, there is no undisputed first—hence mutual disdain.

In martial arts, there is no second—only relentless contention!

On the path of martial prowess, finding a true equal was rarer than ascending to heaven. The loneliness of the peak was an obsession countless grandmasters could never shake. To engage in a fierce battle with a worthy opponent—this was the supreme joy any warrior could dream of!

So—close the distance—strike again!

To the death!

Yet fate seldom grants easy satisfaction. A calamitous crimson light engulfed the land of awakening, the shrill alarms wailing like the world’s final lament. The dark-robed man scoffed, his displeasure unconcealed, casting one last wary glance at the battling youth before turning away.

"Let’s go, Assassin."

"Kuhahaha! Exhilarating! Utterly exhilarating!"

The final blow sent Sakatsuki staggering back. Tasting the sweetness of a minor victory, the crimson-robed warrior’s madness flared brighter. Before the counterattack could land, he leaped away, vanishing alongside his Master from the land of awakening.

"Don’t you dare die before I find you again, brat!"

Sakatsuki offered no reply. He merely retracted his fist, gazing skyward. The false curtain had been torn asunder, revealing a glimpse of the moonlit world—its intricate, horrifying vastness.

Azure radiance spread like a churning ocean across the heavens, cradling golden coral-like formations of arcane arrays. It was the merciless, frigid gaze of a god, slowly rotating as it cast its scrutiny upon the world below.

Squinting his eyes, he calmly met the gaze of the "deity." After a long while, Sakatsuki, now in the form of a young man, nodded slightly—though it was unclear to whom.

"I understand."

The moment he responded, his aura began to fade layer by layer, as though shackling himself. At the same time, the collapse of the world finally came to an end. The crimson light and warnings dissipated, and a tranquil, beautiful new world opened its arms to the young man once more.

Cradling the sleeping Shirou in a princess carry, Sakatsuki gazed at the magnificent scenery of the Moon Cell and let out a soft sigh.

"I wonder how that disobedient little red dragon is doing..."

As if by coincidence, a young girl in a simple red dress bathed in the Moon Cell’s radiance, withdrawing her gaze with visible displeasure before turning to the other ’herself’ crouched in the corner, looking utterly mortified.

"Hey."

"Leave me alone! Aaaaaah, I can’t take this embarrassment! How could I say such things to such an adorable little girl?! QAQ..."

Nero covered her flushed cheeks with her hands. Seeing her in such a pitiful state, Draco’s forehead twitched with irritation.

I absolutely refuse to acknowledge this fool as myself—absolutely!