"My lord...?!"
Diarmuid, who was currently locked in a bitter struggle against Asuka with his remaining Gae Buidhe, suddenly froze.
It was an agonizing pain originating from the depths of his soul.
He was not the one injured; rather, the magical energy pathway connecting Servant and Master felt as though it was being violently churned by a red-hot blade.
The Magic Circuits within Kayneth's body had been massively destroyed by the Origin Bullet. That devastating shockwave poured into Diarmuid's spiritual body like a landslide through their magical contract.
"Ugh...!"
The sudden, precipitous drop in magical energy caused Diarmuid's spiritual body to tremble violently.
The originally elegant and agile spearman let out a low groan of pain, even turning transparent for a split second due to the magical turbulence.
His eyes, which always carried a hint of melancholy and loyalty, were now completely filled with horror as his gaze snapped toward the direction where Kayneth had fallen.
"Lord Kayneth!"
The loyal knight let out a mournful cry.
This cry was also filled with self-blame.
He had never possessed any desire for the Holy Grail to begin with; he had only come to this world swearing to win the war for his lord in this life.
He had sworn to wash away the stigma of his past life in this battle, yet now, he had allowed his lord to suffer such grievous harm!
"You are getting distracted again. That will cost you your life, Spearman."
Asuka's voice carried not a single trace of superfluous emotion.
Swish—!!
He slashed open Diarmuid's shoulder with a single strike.
This time, without the magic-piercing effect of Gae Dearg, his Nugata could recklessly absorb the magical energy from Diarmuid's wound.
"Out of my way! I must go save my lord!"
Diarmuid swung Gae Buidhe like a madman, attempting to forcefully break through Asuka's blockade.
His spearmanship had grown chaotic. The thrusts that were once as precise as art were now riddled with openings.
Asuka shifted his footing, his figure turning into a pitch-black afterimage under the moonlight.
When he reappeared, he was already behind Diarmuid.
Relying on the converted magical energy, his speed was even faster than before.
The Zanpakuto in his hand let out a low hum.
Diarmuid tried to turn and block, but the moment the two weapons were about to clash, the golden spear shaft seemed to encounter some kind of strong acid, instantly corroded by the black spiritual pressure to reveal a notch.
Crack!
Nugata's tip domineeringly sliced through Gae Buidhe's defense and swept across Diarmuid's chest.
Spurt—!
Blood gushed out, and countless streams of magical energy scattered from the wound along with the blood.
A Zanpakuto was inherently a weapon capable of dealing special damage to spiritual bodies; against these Heroic Spirits, it was no different from a targeted Noble Phantasm.
Taking advantage of his forward momentum, Asuka twisted his blade and pierced straight through Diarmuid's chest, pinning him entirely against a reef on the riverbank.
"...It is over," Iskandar judged as he watched the battle.
Asuka stared into Diarmuid's unwilling eyes and applied a bit more force to his grip, afraid that this Heroic Spirit might still have some resurrection Noble Phantasm or hidden trump card.
He would not sympathize with this man. He had given the man the duel he desired, and hesitation for any reason would be a disrespect to a warrior.
"Ugh... ah..." Diarmuid grabbed Asuka's shoulder, coughing up large mouthfuls of blood.
His body began to turn transparent as he looked toward Kayneth's direction with utter unwillingness. "This battle... I failed to achieve victory..."
"My lord... I am sorry..."
Asuka looked into his eyes.
"My name is Asuka. Spearman, what is your name."
"...Diarmuid... Ua Duibhne..."
Diarmuid's body completely disintegrated under the moonlight, turning into countless motes of light that drifted into the sky.
The first Servant casualty of the Holy Grail War exited the stage.
Standing on the Gordius Wheel, Iskandar stroked the stubble on his chin, his expression more solemn than ever before.
He glanced in the direction the spearman had been looking right before his death and violently yanked the reins. "Hey, kid, hold on tight!"
"Diarmuid..."
Not far away, Artoria muttered to herself.
As a Heroic Spirit who also harbored the spirit of chivalry, she naturally felt a complex swirl of emotions after witnessing Diarmuid's demise and the Avenger's clean, decisive combat.
Iskandar was not wrong; he was not a malicious villain.
However...
Artoria's hands trembled slightly.
While the opponent's defeat was certainly due to inferior skill, the sudden collapse of his magical energy at the end was clearly caused by his Master taking damage.
Recalling the tactical discussion at the Einzbern Castle earlier, she only felt a wave of sorrow.
'He clearly could no longer defeat the other Servant, so why did he have to ruthlessly slaughter the Master...'
'Kiritsugu Emiya... is this your way of doing things...'
"Hahahaha! Everyone is working so hard!"
High in the sky, aboard a massive black airship, Francesca was laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath.
She leaned against the railing, her eyes entirely filled with a sickly, ecstatic frenzy.
"The spearman is dead!!"
"Mr. Kayneth is going to die too!"
"That assassin uncle and the priest are playing hide-and-seek!"
"This is fantastic! This is exactly the kind of night Fuyuki City should have!!"
She turned around and spoke in a coquettish tone to the boy François, who looked almost identical to her.
"But François, this level of chaos is still too... human."
"What I want is the kind that would make even Heroic Spirits shudder in fear... That! Hurry up and use that!"
The boy François let out a wicked chuckle and elegantly opened the grimoire stitched from human skin in his hands—
Prelati's Spellbook.
"As you wish, my Francesca."
He lightly hopped onto the railing, seemingly completely unafraid of being blown off by the high-altitude gale.
"It is rare to wage war beneath this malicious sky, so how could we not make good use of it?"
The words spilling from the boy's lips were no longer human language, but a low-frequency resonance capable of instantly driving those with fragile minds insane.
It was a blasphemous chant from ancient times.
"Ia! Ia! Cthulhu! Fhtagn!"
"With this book as the key, open the gates of the abyss!"
"O kin slumbering in the endless deep sea, heed my summons, descend upon this world, and feast to your heart's content!!"
"That spearman is dead! Avenger will be here soon!"
"Do it now! Kill that girl!"
"Do not drag this out with her, or we will be in huge trouble!"
The three Assassin clones exchanged opinions and leaped out from their blind spots almost simultaneously, using their pitch-black daggers to seal off all of Sumire Kamado's escape routes.
Although this little girl's footwork was somewhat interesting, her physical stamina was constantly declining.
This time, no matter what, she would...
Boom—!!
A violent streak of blue lightning descended from the heavens!
Accompanied by the earth-shattering moos of two divine bulls, a majestic, massive chariot violently crashed down between the Assassins and the mother-daughter pair.
"A—lalalalai!!!"
Iskandar's heroic laughter echoed across the barren riverbank. Just the ripples of lightning stirred up by the chariot's charge ruthlessly sent the three Assassin clones flying.
"King of Conquerors?!" An Assassin frowned deeply.
"What are you doing here? Have you come to reap the spoils?" another clone asked coldly.
Iskandar leaped down from the chariot. "Do not misunderstand. I do not have the habit of kicking people when they are down at a time like this."
"Hey! Kid, hurry up!"
Subsequently, a shivering boy was also hauled out of the chariot's carriage by him.
"Pro... Professor?!"
The moment Waver Velvet landed, he saw the man lying in a pool of blood, twitching like a stray dog.
It was the mentor he had always envied and looked up to, yet had never hated.