"An attack like that—if it had exploded in the middle of the road, the surrounding houses would have been caught in the blast!"
Lancer glanced around, relieved to see the nearby homes untouched.
An explosion of that magnitude couldn't possibly go unnoticed.
From the houses lining the street came murmurs of panic—but not a single resident dared to step outside.
The people of Fuyuki City had long since learned one unspoken rule: when the abnormal occurs, do not investigate.
Otherwise, you become part of the spectacle.
"Oh? You've got quite the conscience, don't you?"
Roy's voice carried over mockingly.
"A resentment-drenched Anti-Heroic Spirit who cares so much about ordinary lives? That's practically screaming, 'I'm not Jeanne Alter!'—right, not-Jeanne-Alter?"
"No, wait—this actually fits the real Jeanne's personality. Hah, don't tell me you're the original Jeanne, just wearing an Alter skin?"
Lancer turned her gaze toward him.
Roy's Mystic Eyes gleamed with amusement as they locked onto her.
She didn't respond.
She didn't know how Roy had instantly discerned her True Name as a Servant—or even her Alter form.
But one thing was clear: her identity had been exposed.
Even the truth beneath the skin had been guessed.
Lancer—Jeanne d'Arc—had no words.
"...That earlier attack. If I hadn't stopped it, do you realize what would have happened?"
Jeanne's voice carried quiet accusation.
The flames of purgatory flickered around her, obscuring her expression.
But her tone betrayed her unease.
"So what?"
Roy clicked his tongue in irritation, his face twisting with boredom.
That's all she has to say?
How dull.
Typical Saint.
Jeanne bit her lip lightly.
She had hoped—wanted to believe—that he had some way to control the runes, ensuring no innocents were harmed.
But his answer dashed those hopes entirely.
"Why…?"
Why have you become someone like this?
"Lancer."
The armoured elder's voice cut through the air—cold, emotionless.
"...Master?"
"By my Command Spell—kill that traitor!"
He raised his hand, his eyes dark with malice.
A single fiery Command Spell ignited on his skin, transforming into pure mana and binding law, coiling around Jeanne like chains.
"Wha—?!"
Jeanne's eyes widened in shock.
She hadn't expected her Master to use a Command Spell now.
Before she could react, the mana-infused compulsion seized her body. Her arms moved against her will, twin spears flashing as she lunged toward Roy.
"Get out of the way!"
In desperation, she could only shout a warning to Roy.
"...What weird Master-Servant chemistry!"
Okita's expression was deeply conflicted.
Is this Lancer for real?
She's the enemy's Servant, right?
And her Master is that armoured old man who seems to despise Roy.
Yet not only does she show no fighting spirit—when forced to attack by a Command Spell, she panics and warns our side?!
Why do you care so much about my Master?!
Grumbling internally, Okita didn't hesitate. She dashed forward, intercepting Lancer mid-charge.
Finally forced into offense by the Command Spell, Lancer's movements lost their hesitation. The oddness from before vanished, and Okita focused entirely on the battle.
"As expected—her strength and speed are formidable. A worthy opponent. But not enough to break through my guard and reach Master!"
After a brief exchange, Okita assessed silently.
This summoning had blessed her with exceptional parameters, further boosted by her haori—a Noble Phantasm that enhanced her abilities. In this state, she could fight two versions of her normal self and still win.
As a famed genius swordsman of the Shinsengumi, she also benefited from the land's recognition. Right now, she was confident she could hold her own against top-tier Servants!
Even with a Command Spell's reinforcement, Lancer's close-combat skills were on par with hers at best. There was no way she could break through.
Okita Souji was certain of that.
Roy remained behind Okita, shielded perfectly by her defense.
Though Lancer repeatedly tried to slip past to strike at him, Okita always intercepted in time, denying her every attempt.
Roy glanced at the armoured elder in the distance.
Unfortunately, this was a one-way street.
With Okita and Jeanne locked in battle before him, he had no opening to attack the old man directly.
Even if he found an opportunity, Jeanne would undoubtedly block it.
Then—
"Archer!"
A streak of crimson light screamed through the air.
An arrow—wrapped in surging mana—tore through the wind with terrifying speed, barreling straight toward the clashing Servants!
Its target: Lancer!
Sensing the lethal projectile, Jeanne had no choice but to disengage. She forced Okita back with a sweeping strike and leapt away.
Okita didn't pursue, retreating to Roy's side.
The arrow slammed into the asphalt, blasting a crater a foot deep—its destructive power rivalling a supersonic missile.
Even a Servant would be crippled if hit head-on.
The arrow dissolved into motes of light.
"You there—magus. Did you file an entry permit?"
A twin-tailed young woman stepped forward with elegant poise, her smile flawless.
"Fuyuki City is in a critical state right now. Normally, I wouldn't demand outside magi participating in the Holy Grail War to assist in protecting the city—but attacking those who are? That's starting to piss me off."
Rin Tohsaka had arrived.
And she had grasped the situation instantly.
The armoured elder was one of the three remaining Masters—but he wasn't a Fuyuki native.
With over two hundred magi in the city, Rin hadn't memorized every face—but someone this distinctive? She'd remember. He had to be an outsider.
She could understand an outsider refusing to aid Fuyuki's defense—magus morality being what it was, expecting selfless heroism was like waiting for a beautiful woman to fall from the sky.
But to not help and then actively hinder those who were?
That crossed a line.
"Leave. Now. Otherwise, we'll have no choice but to eliminate you first."
Her declaration carried undeniable authority.
Behind her, a towering Archer clad in red watched the scene with a gaze both steady and complicated.
This Fuyuki bore no resemblance to the one in his memories.
The weight of that realization was his alone to bear.
***
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