"Are we really just driving to participate in the Holy Grail War?"
Durandal sat in the passenger seat, somewhat speechless. After sensing Lancer's aura, the three of them, after some deliberation, set off at dusk for the warehouse district of Mion River to meet.
Durandal had originally expected to appear in a more magical way in this magical spectacle, but she didn't expect it to be so simple—just driving there.
"Otherwise? I do have a way to get us there instantly, but it would be too ostentatious. My role this time is to act as a young magus."
Takatsuki said as he drove, and Durandal looked at the three items placed in the back seat.
A blue light condensed in the back seat. Medea dematerialized and sat in the back seat, looking at a large wooden staff besides the two weapons Takatsuki had prepared for Durandal. Although she could feel a slight magical energy from it, it seemed that the staff's physical size was more useful than its magical energy.
"Is this really a staff?"
Medea raised her question.
"Don't worry, I don't need a staff to use magic. This is just for fooling people. Plus, a larger, sturdier one is convenient for me to hit people with."
As for why it wasn't in the backpack but carried like this, it was because they were now considered to have entered the enemy's field of vision. A Servant summoning a Noble Phantasm out of thin air was normal, but what would it be if Takatsuki suddenly took something out of thin air?
"Medea, hide. We're already in range."
Hearing Takatsuki's words, Medea in the back seat materialized again and disappeared.
After driving for another stretch, the car arrived at the destination, the warehouse district.
The two got out of the car, each holding their weapons, and walked into the warehouse district. There, a man was already standing.
"Good, you've come. I've been walking around this city brazenly all day, yet no one was willing to show themselves. Only you were willing to accept my invitation."
Looking at the two who had arrived, Diarmuid's gaze fell on Durandal, who held the Holy Sword Durandal in one hand and a briefcase in the other.
He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he always felt that Durandal's aura was somewhat different from the aura that had responded to him in the afternoon.
However, only this combination had come to the meeting.
Diarmuid subconsciously assumed the one who responded was a Servant, as Takatsuki, who was behind her, looked like a magus, not a Servant.
"It seems you are Saber, correct?"
Holding two spears wrapped in rune cloth, Diarmuid made his judgment.
"No, Berserker, Bianka Durandal Ataegina, has come to meet you."
Facing Diarmuid, who exuded a powerful aura, Durandal also raised her full spirit.
Unlike Lancelot…
This was Durandal's thought when facing Diarmuid.
What Lancelot exuded was only endless madness.
"Berserker? I don't feel the slightest madness from you, and you even revealed your True Name directly? Don't you understand the rules of the Holy Grail War?"
Diarmuid didn't expect Durandal to reveal her identity directly, and his eyes widened slightly. However, if this counted as a form of madness, then Durandal's behavior indeed fit a Berserker.
Diarmuid looked at Takatsuki, who was holding a giant staff behind her. The other party did not stop Durandal's actions, and…
He always felt a sense of incongruity…
Diarmuid didn't know where this feeling came from, but it was his intuition, the intuition of a strong person, and this intuition had saved him many times on the battlefield.
"No matter, my Master has agreed, and… even if they knew my True Name, no one would recognize me."
Durandal spoke the prepared excuse Takatsuki had already given her.
"I see, so it's a Heroic Spirit from the modern era, or even the future? After the decline of myths, can people still become Heroic Spirits? But I apologize, as an opponent with whom I am about to fight to the death, after you have given your name, I cannot give mine. This is truly against chivalry, but I have already sworn an oath to win victory for my lord."
Diarmuid assumed a stance.
"No matter, this doesn't affect our battle, just like that charming power on you."
Durandal felt the strange magical energy on Diarmuid the moment she saw him. It was indeed very captivating, and even after resisting it with her own magical energy, there was still some slight influence. But as Durandal had said before, she was constantly adapting to this feeling, because this influence did not originate from her own emotions, but was an effect caused by magic.
Durandal's incredibly powerful adaptability was constantly at work.
Diarmuid, who had assumed a stance, heard this and let out a helpless chuckle, resting a long spear on his shoulder.
"I apologize, this is like a curse I was born with. I truly can do nothing about it. If I must blame someone, I can only blame my birth, or being a woman."
"Is that so? But this won't affect our battle. Haven't we talked enough?"
Upon hearing Durandal's words, Diarmuid seemed to confirm something: "Although there's no Magic Resistance class skill, does the battle frenzy of Mad Enhancement truly override other emotions? Very well, it would be a disgrace for me to slay a woman enchanted by this face. I'm glad my first opponent is a worthy one."
"Then… here I come!"
As the words fell, Durandal's foot instantly stomped a crater into the ground of the warehouse district. Using this force, Durandal directly crossed several meters and swung Durandal at Diarmuid.
However, it was blocked by Diarmuid's short spear in his left hand. At the same time, Diarmuid also thrust forward with the long spear in his other hand, but it was blocked by Pandora, which Durandal held in her left hand.
The sharp spear tip scraped across the demon-like pattern in the middle of the Pandora briefcase, creating a burst of sparks.
"Indeed, is this briefcase also a Noble Phantasm?"
Diarmuid instantly understood.
Moreover, he found that Durandal, in front of him, was not confined to conventional fighting methods. Kicks, sword swings, and even smashing down with the briefcase in her hand were all part of her fighting style.
It wasn't like she had received professional sword training; it was more like a practical combat style honed on the battlefield.
However…
What exactly is that briefcase?
While parrying Durandal's attacks and trying to regain the advantage with the length of his long spear, Diarmuid was also wary of that briefcase.
After all, he didn't believe that the briefcase was just a simple blunt weapon. Compared to the powerful Holy Sword that could be seen with the naked eye, he was more wary of the unknown.