Fate: Hero of Justice Takeover-Chapter 99: The Broken Yellow Rose

Like a ghostly shadow.

Facing the young man before him, Kiritsugu Emiya couldn't suppress his hostility.

He was a magus killer, having taken on countless missions and met countless people, but no one had ever pushed him to such a point. It was as if all his actions had been seen through, as if every strategy he devised was known to this man. He had been forced to become a puppet dancing in someone else's palm.

—This kind of thing should have been his own prerogative.

This mirror-like familiarity didn't make Kiritsugu relax his guard. On the contrary, it made him even more tense, because he knew exactly what he was capable of doing to achieve his goals.

"Relax, I don't plan to kill you."

The young man said, taking one step after another toward him.

"After all, Kiritsugu, you and your wife are... people I have a close relationship with."

"Is that so?"

Kiritsugu replied indifferently as if he believed it.

In the next moment, the young man lunged forward, holding a projected golden spear, thrusting it toward Kiritsugu's torso!

Almost simultaneously, the black-clad magus killer kicked off the ground, moving at an inhuman speed to escape the spear's range.

"Time Alter, huh?"

The assassination attempt failed, and Sakatsuki clicked his tongue openly, showing no shame for his underhanded tactics.

"Such an annoying ability."

Kiritsugu didn't bother to reprimand him. In his worldview, such an assassination attempt was as natural and normal as eating or drinking. But the strange feeling in his heart grew stronger.

A year ago, in the Einzbern Castle, this young man had been too calm. It was only now, a year later, that Kiritsugu gradually began to notice the abnormalities in him.

Too similar. It was as if they were carved from the same mold.

This went beyond mere imitation. It was as if Kiritsugu himself had personally taught him, as if he were his own flesh and blood, inheriting all his skills.

He needed to understand this anomaly.

Before the final battle, he needed to understand the source of this anomaly.

Filled with unshakable doubt, Kiritsugu spoke, his voice overlapping with Sakatsuki's.

"I think we need to talk."

Both were efficiency-driven individuals. After a moment of surprise, they maintained a safe distance and attempted to converse.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

"You..."

Kiritsugu opened his mouth to speak, but the first word stretched endlessly, unable to form a complete sentence.

Who are you?

Where did you learn your skills?

What is your goal?

Any one of these questions could yield valuable information, but precisely because they were so similar, Kiritsugu was certain that such questions would never be answered.

While he would respond with silence, Sakatsuki would likely dodge the question with vague jokes, leaving people confused.

What Kiritsugu wanted wasn't lies, but even though they stood so close, their hearts remained worlds apart.

Kiritsugu's hesitation didn't escape Sakatsuki's notice. He smiled slightly and raised his hand.

A magical screen unfolded, displaying the battlefield where Lancer and Saber clashed.

Since both were wary and found it difficult to speak, they needed a catalyst for communication. For example, the most straightforward topic—

What do you see in the battle between these two Servants?

The red spear raged like a dragon, while the yellow spear lay in wait like a venomous snake.

Two different styles were fully displayed in Lancer's hands. Saber, caught between these two schools of combat, was overwhelmed. Even as she wielded the holy sword symbolizing victory, she was pushed to the brink by the two spear tips.

She couldn't win.

Her powerful intuition had already reached this conclusion.

If she didn't heal the injury on her arm.

If she didn't return to her peak condition.

She would inevitably lose to Lancer.

But to remove the curse on her hand, she had to defeat Lancer, and to defeat Lancer, she had to remove the curse... It was an unsolvable knot.

No, there was still a way.

If her goal wasn't to defeat the Servant, but simply to destroy a specific object...

Her intuition provided the answer. In an instant, Artoria's green eyes lit up, and her battle skirt disintegrated before the spear could even touch her. With a burst of 'Mana Burst,' the petite (1.5 meters) swordswoman charged straight into the spearman's (1.8 meters) close range. She reversed her grip on the sword hilt, holding it like a dagger, and slashed at Lancer's right arm.

Realizing she couldn't defeat him, she was now risking her life... Diarmuid, though surprised, remained calm. He tightened his grip on the red spear, Gáe Dearg, and twisted his body at an awkward angle to avoid the upward slash of the holy sword. At the same time, he brought his right arm inward, as if embracing Saber, and thrust the yellow spear tip toward her.

The closer the melee combat, the more it tested the warriors' instincts. Even Diarmuid, at that moment, instinctively executed the best defensive and counterattacking moves, completely unaware of the victorious smile forming on Saber's lips.

Silver armour instantly covered her upper body. While the yellow spear, Gáe Buidhe, could inflict unhealable wounds, it couldn't break through the armour woven from magical energy. Even the sharp spear was momentarily delayed before it pierced the armour and cut into Saber's fair skin.

Blood gushed out, and the pain from the curse made Saber's eyebrows twitch slightly. But her movements didn't falter. Maintaining her reverse grip on the sword, she clashed the blade against the red spear while slamming the hilt into Diarmuid's left wrist.

"Ugh!"

The external impact pressed on his nerves, causing Diarmuid's hand to go numb. The spear slipped from his grasp, and Saber seized it. Then, the young knight's voice rang out.

"Strike Air!!"

A chaotic storm swept through the area. By the time Diarmuid broke through the magical wind barrier with his red spear, Saber had already created distance.

Though her shoulder and arm bore cursed wounds, Saber now held the source of the curse in her left hand—Lancer's Noble Phantasm, 'Gáe Buidhe.'

"...An impressive assault."

Diarmuid said after a moment of silence, his smile a mix of admiration and bitterness.

This was not a move that could be used in a normal duel. For a warrior, any injury would affect their movements and speed, which was fatal in a battle of skill.

But precisely because they were Servants, Saber could take such a risky tactic.

If she broke 'Gáe Buidhe,' all the injuries Saber had sustained so far would heal completely. Unless it was a fatal wound to the spiritual core, Servants were virtually immortal.

This also meant that Lancer Diarmuid, now missing one of his weapons, would soon face the peak condition of Saber, the strongest of the three Knight classes.

"Thank you for the praise, Lancer."

Saber said, a slight smile forming on her usually serious face.

'Gáe Buidhe' was tossed into the air, and a golden slash swept through, reducing the cursed spear to spirit particles. At the same time, Saber's injuries, including the cut on her left hand, healed at an incredible speed.

Flexing her now agile fingers, the King of Knights took a deep breath and gripped the hilt of her holy sword with both hands.

The aura of invincibility radiated from her, showcasing her heightened fighting spirit.

"This victory, I shall claim it, Lancer!"

***

Hey readers!

Want to read ahead? 📖 Join my Patreon for early access to 30+ advance Chapters! Your support helps me write more and bring the story to you faster.

🔹patreon.com/aarvan🔹

Thanks for being awesome! ❤️