The silence that followed Gojo's meticulously casual proposal was absolutely deafening.
Lancer stared at him. Saber stared at him. Even Irisviel stared at him from behind her Servant's back. Poor Irisviel didn't have the faintest idea of what was going on anymore, or how to even begin reacting or interacting to a man who was somehow treating a holy war like a neighborhood block party.
Strategically speaking, however, Irisviel's was already turning gears. Like letting this bizarre 'Caster' and Lancer fight each other was actually the best possible outcome.
They would tire each other out, reveal their abilities, and perhaps even finish one another off. She gently placed a hand on Saber's back, a silent signal relaying her decision: Let them fight. We will watch and learn.
Saber, however, had already made up her mind to be ready for anything. In a swirling burst of brilliant mana, the black butler suit vanished, instantly replaced by her gleaming silver armor. Her invisible sword was gripped tightly in her hand, the wind howling softly around the concealed blade.
But before Saber or Lancer could even raise their voices to respond to his offer of being a 'cheerboy,' Gojo spoke up again.
"Actually... nevermind."
His tone flipped in an absolute instant, as if he had just changed his mind about what he wanted for dinner.
He pulled his hands out of his pockets and began to casually stretch his long arms high above his head, rolling his shoulders until a few joints popped satisfyingly in the quiet night air.
"I came all the way out here, and technically I was here first," Gojo reasoned brightly. "So maybe I'll just go first. I'm on a tight schedule, otherwise I would have really loved to sit back and watch your little show. So be good gals, step to the side, cheer me on, and just bask in the magnificent brilliance that is me."
Saber's emerald eyes flared with indignant fury. The sheer disrespect of his words struck a deep chord of knightly pride.
"Call me 'girl' one more time," Saber warned, her voice dropping to a low, lethal register, "and you will not live to regret it."
Gojo lowered his arms, tilting his head slightly as he stared right back at her through the dark fabric of his blindfold. "Oh, you know modern phrases, huh? Not that I'm judging or anything. I don't know what time period you came from, but where I'm from, we call a girl a 'girl' and a boy a 'boy', you know."
Saber clenched her teeth, her grip tightened around the hilt of her invisible sword. She took a step forward, but Irisviel gently pulled her back by the edge of her armor. Forced to drop her immediate assault, Saber glared daggers at the white-haired sorcerer.
"I will not forget this insult," Saber vowed coldly. "And I will repay it in full when I thrust this sword of mine into your body."
Gojo dramatically recoiled, his face scrunching up in exaggerated disgust. "Eww... man... what the hell is up with that double-meaning sentence? I know I'm at fault most of the time, but to be blamed for something when I haven't even done anything yet... now that is just fully outrageous."
Saber's eyes narrowed dangerously. As much as this infuriating man irked her to her very core, and as much as she deeply desired to impale him right then and there for his utter lack of chivalry, she resisted. Irisviel tugged her a few steps back, creating distance between themselves and the two men.
Seeing that Saber and the silver-haired woman were retreating to the sidelines, Lancer sighed, his eyes shifting focus.
"As much as I wanted to take Saber first in a duel..." Lancer murmured, a hint of genuine disappointment in his smooth voice. "I wouldn't mind getting rid of Caster first. It seems the duel with Saber will have to wait."
He turned his full, undivided attention to Gojo.
"So, you claim the right of the first duel," Lancer said, his voice dropping into a focused, battle-ready hum. He lowered his center of gravity, bringing the long, wrapped spear in his right hand forward, while his left hand anchored his stance with the shorter one. "Very well."
Gojo didn't take a stance. Instead, he reached up with one hand and hooked his fingers under the edge of his blindfold. Slowly, he pulled it up and off his head completely.
As the dark cloth was removed, his spiky white hair fell softly, framing his face. But it was his eyes that looked marvelous. They were a brilliant, piercing, crystalline blue, like looking into an endless, bottomless sky.
Lancer stared into those eyes, and a sudden, highly unnatural shiver ran down his spine.
"Are those eyes of yours special by any chance?" Lancer asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to analyze the strange sensation washing over him. "Perhaps a charm-like effect on people? I do not know how to accurately put this feeling into words... but I feel exposed. If that could be the right word for it."
Lancer was speaking his exact thoughts. He didn't know what it was, but he could clearly feel it the second those blue eyes locked onto him.
Unlike his own magical charm curse, which seduced and muddled the mind, this gaze felt like it was dissecting him… researching him.
Even clad in his combat gear, standing firmly on the battlefield, Lancer felt utterly naked. It was as if he couldn't hide anytging, a single muscle twitch, or a single drop of mana from those eyes.
He naturally assumed it was some sort of high-tier Mystic Eye or a unique charm curse.
Gojo chuckled, a bright, melodic sound that cut through the tension. "Hahahahaha! Flattery won't get you anywhere, spearboy."
Lancer didn't know how else to describe it, but the man standing in front of him was an absolute master at provoking people.
Something inside the chivalrous knight snapped. His killing intent flared outward, a heavy, suffocating pressure that cracked the ground beneath his boots. He was ready to attack.
Gojo did absolutely nothing. He just stood there, looking at him.
"Here I come," Lancer declared.
He didn't launch a sneak attack; he gave his opponent enough time to prepare, a testament to his honor. The ground beneath his feet shattered instantly as he took off.
Lancer dashed forward, moving so fast he was little more than a blur, followed by a violent shockwave of wind pressure generated purely by his raw speed. He closed the fifteen-meter gap in a fraction of a second, thrusting his long spear directly toward Gojo's shoulder.
But as the spear tip closed in, Lancer felt a spike of deep confusion. Gojo wasn't dodging. He wasn't bringing up a magical shield or anything not even casting. He was just standing there, staring at Lancer, while lazily bringing one hand forward and lifting a single index finger.
Hmm... too slow... Lancer thought. He was already within striking distance. His spear was mere millimeters from piercing the man's flesh.
But at the very last microsecond, Lancer felt nothing. His spear thrust cleanly through empty air. Gojo simply wasn't there anymore. He had vanished, exactly as he had appeared on the road earlier, in an instant, right before the spear could touch him.
Before Lancer could even begin to wonder where the Caster had gone, a calm, chilling voice spoke directly behind his ear.
"Cursed Technique Reversal: Red."
Relying on his fast agility and lightning-fast battle instincts, Lancer planted his front foot hard into the ground, halting his momentum instantly. He tightened his grip and spun his body like a top, sweeping the long spear in a deadly arc toward his blind spot where the voice had come from.
But as the spear cleaved through the air, Gojo wasn't there either.
Suddenly, Lancer sensed the presence behind him again. Even with all his blistering speed, he forced his body to twist once more. This time, he saw him. Gojo was floating mere inches off the ground, that single lifted finger now glowing with an intense, condensed orb of pure red energy.
Lancer didn't panic. He snapped his left hand forward, spinning his short spear in a lethal, upward slash aimed directly at Gojo's extended hand, intending to cleanly sever the glowing finger and the wrist attached to it.
The short spear slashed upward with blinding speed, but right as the wrapped blade was about to carve into Gojo's skin... it stopped.
It didn't hit anything. It didn't clash against any armor not like he was wearing. It simply halted in mid-air, frozen inches away from Gojo's hand, as if it had struck an invisible magical armor.
Gojo smiled widely, his Six Eyes gleaming. He casually lowered his glowing finger from Lancer's face down to the center of the spearman's abdomen.
And he released the Red.
It all happened so incredibly fast that Lancer didn't even have the time to dodge, let alone process why his short spear had failed to cut the man's hand off. The sheer, overwhelming pressure, the absolute force of violently expanding repulsion, slammed into his stomach.
He didn't even have the fraction of a second required to cross his spears like a shield. And even if he had, his spears were still tightly bound in their protective amulets to conceal their true identities.
Without the amulets removed, the anti-magic properties of his Noble Phantasm were completely sealed away.
The entire harbor was suddenly bathed in a blinding, explosive crimson light.
At the exact epicenter of the blast, Lancer took the full force of the repulsion. His body was blasted backward with the velocity of a cannonball. He slammed into the corrugated wall of the warehouse behind him, but the momentum didn't even slow down.
CRASH!!!
Lancer was blown straight through the thick wall, blasting it open like wet paper. He smashed through the interior supports, blasting out the back wall of the building, soaring across the alleyway, and violently crashing into the next warehouse and them again and again.
Walls shrieked and concrete pulverized into dust as the linear path of destruction carved a massive, gaping hole through the industrial district.
The blinding red light faded, leaving behind a massive cloud of dust, falling debris, and the echoing, groaning sound of collapsing roofs.
Gojo lowered his hand, shoved it casually back into his pocket, and let out a bright, highly amused chuckle.
"Home run."
…
A/N: One More Coming.