"You are the Lancer?"
Roy stared at the resentment-wreathed Lancer, his gaze sharp with hostility.
There was no mistaking it.
That appearance, those unmistakable traits—this was undoubtedly Jeanne d'Arc Alter.
Jeanne Alter did indeed possess the qualifications for the Lancer class.
But no matter how Roy looked at her, something felt off about this "Black Jeanne."
Jeanne Alter was an exceptionally unique Servant.
She was a lost soul from an aberrant timeline—one that had been corrected. In the repaired world, no one remembered her, no one could summon her, and thus, no "bond" tied her to this world. She was like a phantom of foam, a solitary existence from another reality.
Theoretically, no one besides Fujimaru Ritsuka should have been able to summon her.
And more than that—
Something about her aura felt wrong.
This Jeanne Alter radiated intense resentment, enough to classify her as an Anti-Heroic Spirit, her heart brimming with hatred, loathing, and wrath—emotions so vast they could scorch the world.
But the Jeanne Alter Roy knew was a heavy woman—one who laughed wildly, excelled at exaggerated expressions, and hid nine spikes in every three words, as if the entire world owed her money.
Yet this Black Jeanne's expression showed none of that barely-contained hatred.
Instead, she was eerily calm.
Not a trace of malice or fury could be seen on her face.
Combining these observations, Roy concluded—
This wasn't the real Jeanne Alter.
It was someone else wearing her skin.
"Master?"
Souji glanced at him questioningly.
"Doesn't matter. Kill her."
Roy's lips twisted into a cruel smirk.
Whether she was the real Jeanne Alter or not—what did it matter?
Slaughter her all the same.
"Yes!"
At his command, Souji tightened her grip on her sword and charged at Lancer.
Lancer's expression hardened. She raised both hands, and two obsidian spears materialized in her grasp. Crossing them like a shield, she braced for impact.
"Dual-wielding spear?"
Souji's guard rose instantly.
Dual-wielding increased attack speed at the cost of power—only those confident in their strength would dare attempt it.
And with spears, no less—weapons that demanded even greater physical prowess.
This Lancer was no ordinary foe.
CLANG—!
Their first clash sent sparks flying.
The moment their weapons met, Souji's brows furrowed.
She pressed forward, probing for openings, her blade weaving a relentless storm of slashes.
Lancer's defense was impeccable—her twin spears deflected each strike with precision.
But something was wrong.
Despite Souji's aggressive assault, Lancer made no attempt to counterattack. She only defended, retreating and dodging without ever striking back.
Souji was a speed-based Servant, her swordplay a blinding flurry of strikes.
Once she forced an opponent on the back foot, she could corner them without allowing a single chance to retaliate.
But that didn't apply to spear users.
If Lancer took a single large step back, she could create distance—entering the range where her spears could reach Okita, but Okita's sword could not. That would force Okita to split her focus, preventing her from maintaining absolute pressure.
And judging by the impact of their clashes, Lancer's strength matched hers even while dual-wielding.
With her abilities, she could have easily created that advantageous distance.
'What is this Lancer doing? Why isn't she trying to counter? Is there a trap?'
Okita's instincts screamed caution.
Lancer never attacked. Not once. She showed zero aggression, as if the concept of offense didn't exist for her.
Even when Okita's strikes nearly grazed her, Lancer only reacted with startled evasion—never seizing the chance to strike back.
If this was an act to lure Okita into a trap, then her acting skills were flawless.
Okita couldn't understand.
Did this Lancer even want to fight?
Then—
HUM—!
The air shimmered as countless runes materialized.
Roy's fingers danced like a painter's, weaving a stream of fire that roared toward the armoured elder like a rocket.
"Master!"
Lancer's expression shifted.
She took a heavy blow from Okita, her arms trembling violently—her grip on her spears nearly failing.
Using the momentum, she hurled herself backwards, landing in front of the old man. With a sweep of her hand, blackened flames of purgatory surged forth, crushing Roy's runic fire.
Okita, fearing a counterattack, instantly retreated to guard Roy.
But—
The hellfire vanished the moment it neutralized Roy's attack.
It made no move to strike at Roy.
Okita blinked in disbelief.
"What are you doing, Lancer?!"
The armoured elder bellowed in rage—even he could tell something was amiss.
"Kill him already! Or have you betrayed me too?!"
Lancer lowered her eyes, remaining silent.
Opposite them, Roy narrowed his gaze.
"Is Lancer's state… unusual?"
"Master, for some reason, Lancer seems unwilling to fight," Okita relayed through their mental link.
"But I can't be certain."
"Then let's test that."
Roy's lips curled into a vicious grin.
He raised his hand—his eyes shifting from crimson to a black-and-white kaleidoscope of runic chains, glowing like gemstones.
As his Mystic Eyes activated, a single rune expanded, then split—one becoming two, two becoming four, four becoming eight—
In the span of a breath, over two hundred runes swarmed the air, forming a sphere half a person's height.
The rune cluster hurtled toward Lancer and her Master, its glow intensifying—primed to detonate at any moment.
Lancer's face tightened as she glanced at the surroundings.
The street was lined with houses.
"Does he not care about civilian casualties at all?!"
Her lips pressed into a thin line—a barely audible sigh escaping.
It sounded like regret.
Like bitter amusement.
Then—
She lunged forward, driving both spears into the ground.
The asphalt shattered as purgatorial flames erupted—molten rock surging upward like spears of hellfire.
Dozens of obsidian lances pierced the sky, intercepting the rune cluster mid-air—impaling it like a condemned prisoner on a pyre.
BOOM—!!
The explosion lit the night, a firestorm blooming overhead like a false sun. Scorching winds swept through the street, turning the air sweltering.
Souji stared, dumbstruck, at the inferno above.
"Incredible…"
"My Master is this strong?!"
"This is bad!"
"If even I'm feeling useless, what does that make me?!"
***
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