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"Oh…" - the now heartless Hector slowly took a shuddering step back, - "Oh, heh... All that effort to make and sell the trap… and you're not even hurt one bit"

Ainz, looking at his soon to be dead opponent, slowly lowered the hand that just recently had crushed Hector's heart. Almost immediately Ainz felt a surge of sharp pain - not in the physical sense of the word, but rather like a sharp headache - piercing his mind. After the pain subsided a small drop of muddy brackish-metallic liquid fell on his lips .

"Hmm..." - Ainz raised a hand to his lips, after which he felt a few more drops of blood falling on them - "So, the level of damage to the body casting 'Grasp Heart' is insignificant... Hmmm, the fact that it's just caused a small amount of damage rather than a complete destruction of the body part. It's rather interesting..."

Grasp Heart, one of Ainz's favorite spells, a spell of instant death, is certainly one of the best attacking spells that Ainz knew of. It is very simple to cast and its effect is very straightforward.

Back in Yggdrasil, casting it would apply an instant death curse on the target, and if the target's resistance is not enough, then they would simply die. In the New World, using it would cause an effigy of the target's heart to appear in Ainz's grasp, and should Ainz crush it, the target's heart would also simultaneously be crushed. If the spell's effect is not resisted, all that remains would be a corpse with no outward injury.

At least this is what is supposed to happen in most cases, the spell's instant death effect could be resisted. Although even if the target survived the instant death effect due to one of the possible methods; specialized equipment, abilities that resists instant death effects, racial immunity, or even spells — there is still an additional effect of the spell that still makes the spell invaluable even to those that can resist its main effect. Should the target survive, they would then be in a stunned state for a couple of seconds, if Ainz were to use it in Yggdrasil of course.

In the New World, the target would be under an indescribable amount of pain that would cloud the consciousness of any opponent, literally paralyzing them. The paralysis would give Ainz at least a couple of seconds - all the time in the world essentially - in order to properly react and continue the battle - or to retreat.

The only problem with such a spell, at least as Ainz is concerned, was the fact that the spell was of the ninth tier. A tier of spells which Ainz would not use because of the very real possibility of damaging the body provided to him by Da Vinci irrevocably. However, on the other hand, Grasp Heart was one of the spells in the lowest rank of the ninth tier of spells that Ainz knew of. It could even be said that the spell is even comparable to a spell of the eighth tier. All in all this spell was the one best suited for Ainz's small experiment.

He could have dealt with Hector without resorting to magic of a probably higher rank than his body could tolerate. But the small tinge of regret that Ainz felt when he had to kill Hector made Ainz change his plans a little. In addition, he really wanted to conduct some small experiments...

"Wow," Hector continued to sway on his feet, coughing all the while with blood, glancing at Ainz who is slowly descending from the sky opposite him, "It really was a stupid plan…"

"Yes, I'm sorry," Ainz slowly breathed out, feeling the sharp fit of pain that pierced his mind a couple of seconds ago slowly receding, turning the sharp pain into a dull aching pain somewhere in the front of his head, "For what it's worth, the trap was quite interesting to unravel. Its many layers all in order to kill the one who is searching for the Grail. First a fight, then, if the enemy is too strong to kill reliably, a feigned surrender while dangling the Grail as bait. Next is the path to the Grail, it is littered with traps that would kill any one unwary instantly. And lastly, the Grail itself is one big trap. A very insidious trap which preys on the enemy's relaxed state of mind after overcoming the myriad traps. A very interesting trap that relies on the power of a Noble Phantasm that would kill when touched. Lastly if all else failed, and the enemy survived after they activated the Noble Phantasm or if they somehow bypassed it altogether, a giant explosion to end them or to finish off the weakened enemy. A well-made sound trap."

"Yeah, kha," Hector coughed again, spitting more blood, and then grinned. "It's a pity that it didn't work. But it's more of a pity that I won't be able to finish its job. I don't think that even my vaunted skill can save me now - I'm afraid that even it cannot grow my heart back."

Ainz then took a closer look at his opponent once more.

It was strange, he indeed felt that his spell had worked to its full potential, crushing Hector's heart. Which usually meant that the target dies, in fact, instantly. And yet, even without a heart, Hector continued to stand on his feet in some unknown way to Ainz.

"You could tolerate a mortal wound well enough,".

"Khe-heh, I'm actually coughing up blood here," Hector grunted, after which, as if to confirm his words, he coughed into his fist again, spitting out a viscous lump of blood, "But in general - yes, I generally can survived a lot of injuries thanks to my skill, 'Guardian of Troy'. Useful ability, not very useful here though, really…"

Even after confirming the fact that Hector would no longer pose a threat, Ainz nevertheless still paid close attention to his surroundings. He is being alert in case Berserker chose to attack him at that moment. Hector, correctly guessing Ainz's thoughts, shook his head, "I knew that even with the both of us we wouldn't be able to defeat you, so I sent him away. I told him to check for another exit - though, the cave actually only has one way in and out, heh."

"Hm, I see..." Ainz sighed. Search and destroy it is then, given that the Demon Kings had begun to act, and Ainz not knowing how long his trap would keep them at bay. Wasting his time here for a Servant that wouldn't show up was not the thing that Ainz would like to spend his time on.

"Only, please, hmm…" - Hector exhaled, - "I see that you do not see Asterios as a monster... Therefore, please - do not kill him."

"Hm?" Ainz looked at Hector. "Why should I consider Asterios a monster? He really does not look like one, and he absolutely does not fit its definition too."

Hector just smiled - although the fact that he didn't react at all to Ainz's words meant that he could no longer correctly perceive the words, at least not clearly.

'To put another way, only people of the heteromorphic races are monsters,' Ainz exhaled, 'Even if Asterios is indeed from the Minotaur race, this will at best make him a demihuman. There is no reason to consider him a monster in any way.'

"I mean it," Hector breathed, "Asterios... Is a good guy. A child, what else could you expect from him? So... Can you tell him to come with you? He liked you, so he will believe you."

"Hm?" Ainz looked at Hector, who is gradually beginning to turn into pure mana - which, however, still allowed him to continue talking, "But I had killed you. I don't think that Asterios will so easily agree to go with the enemy."

"Tell him I had escaped," Hector grinned wryly. "He knows I'm capable of such a feat. So he will believe you - I mean, he is just a child after all."

Ainz looked at Hector.

Ainz was conflicted. He would like to conduct another experiment - to check whether Asterios was really from the Minotaur race, to conduct an experiment regarding his level of protection against magic and the level of his HP, his brute physical strength...

But…

"Okay," Ainz sighed, "I'm afraid I already killed more people that don't want to today than I wanted."

"Thank you for your kind words," Hector grinned a little, then exhaled, "Well, I won't squeeze more out of my body, so... Come on no need to be so sad, maybe I'll see you again some day."

"Maybe," Ainz smiled at the middle-aged looking Servant, after which he disappeared after a moment, like any Servant.

After standing in the clearing for another second, Ainz exhaled, and then extended his hand into the arising abyss of his inventory.

"Hmm, in that case I'll only do one more small experiment," Ainz sighed, "So it's not the throughput of my body... Perhaps the peak load? Or is it conceptually related to the rank of the spell itself? There is too little information..."

Ainz pulled out a small healing potion, after which he looked at the reddish splashing liquid inside, and thought.

"A healing potion, instead of healing, will only damage a creature of negative energy, for example the undead..." - Ainz looked carefully at the bottle. "Will it cure the damage on my body from using too much magic? Hmm, an interesting question..."

A second later, Ainz sighed - experiments, hmm... Indeed, for a long time he postponed the clarification of such details. But if it was worth taking the matter seriously - then definitely, Ainz planned to rectify his mistake.

Ainz took a couple of steps, after which he froze, almost slapping himself on the forehead - "Oh, yes, I almost forgot completely. A couple of seconds... "

Baal, having lost his hand, did not radically change his attitude to the battle. If before he retained some, albeit not particularly noticeable, seriousness. Then after receiving the first significant wound, after losing his hand, he only added to his face and in his actions an aura of carelessness, as if he finally started to like the game he was playing. He only had to ascertain first the fact that his opponent was not as weak as he thought.

What was, however, the worst in such a situation, at least to his opponents, he became even more talkative than before.

"Great," Medea hardly attacked at all, it seemed as if even her far from modest reserves of mana had been exhausted. While Baal, not even disturbed by his injury, continued to teleport time after time, "It's just great! I was not only honored to meet the Witch of betrayal - but also with the crazy Diana! Should I tell you how both of you uniquely fit together?"

"Shut up!" - After another second, another arrow flew off the bowstring of the goddess of the moon, "THAT IS NOT MY NAME! TRI-STAR AMORE MIO!"

An instant, a monstrously large shot broke the silence of the night sky, however, like many times before, it missed.

"Well, why is that?" Baal stepped aside from the shot with mocking lightness. "It always seemed to me that the difference between the Roman and Greek pantheons is so small it might as well be non-existent... Or is it because you don't want to answer for the sins of Caligula?"

"TRI-STAR AMORE MIO!" - It was simply an unbelievable sight - time after time Artemis could use her Noble Phantasm with no visible cost. One, two, five, ten times, Even without taking into account the inhuman waste of mana on such an act, it was simply impossible from the point of view of a normal Servant. The Noble Phantasm, the embodied legend of the Servant, was simply not a thing to be used like an ordinary attack. Time after time, easily turning its legend into reality, like a craftsman repeatedly reproducing a great masterpiece into reality. It was simply impossible. It was an insult to the very concept of a Noble Phantasm. It is like attempting to tell the legend of the Servant over and over again only in order to finish the story only in order to tell the story again. It was a mockery of the very concept of Mystery itself, the concept which lay at the basis of the Noble Phantasm itself. Like a farce that turns the crystallized miracle of a Servant into nothing more than a magic trick.

"TRI-STAR AMORE MIO!" - And yet…. Artemis continued to use it in this way, time after time, as if mocking the Servants for venerating and conserving their Noble Phantasms, - "TRI-STAR AMORE MIO!"

"If you think more about it," Baal continued to speak while dodging all the arrows, almost ceasing to attack. Medea would like to amuse herself with the thought that it was due to the constant use of Artemis' Noble Phantasm forcing Baal to go on the defensive. But, judging by the ease with which he continued to simply teleport away from the Artemis' attacks - this would be nothing more than a naive self-deception, - "In addition to your shared identity as goddesses, I see one more parallel. Oh, this crazy love…"

"TRI-STAR AMORE MIO! TRI-STAR AMORE MIO! TRI-STAR AMORE MIO!" - Artemis was like a raging beast. There was no trace of the noble, smiling, beautiful white-haired girl - only hate and bestial fury remains in Artemis' bright blue eyes, her soft white hair fluttering in the wind from each arrow shot, her posture and pose bowed, betraying her similarities with that of wild beasts.

"Indeed, Diana, the goddess that drove the noble warrior-emperor crazy," Baal exaggeratedly with a thoughtful look tilted his head to the side, "And Artemis, who laughed so cruelly and rudely at Orion... The resemblance is quite peculiar, isn't it?"

"DO NOT DARE TO LAUGH AT MY BELOVED!" - Even Artemis' voice had changed, turning into the likeness of a roar of an angry lioness, "TRI-STAR AMORE MIO!"

"Oh, I'm afraid I won't even be able to come up with jokes on him more evil than yours, Artemis," Baal smiled amicably, after which his gaze slid over the teddy bear lying nearby, which couldn't even budge, and only trembled helplessly, without even trying to open his mouth, - "The Great Hunter, the greatest I would even say - turned into such a miserable mockery. An evil mockery disguised as a facade of love - a hatred that took on such an unhealthy form as passion... Even among the demons, I rarely met someone as cruel as you."

"TRI-STAR AMORE MIO!" - Artemis' roar was so loud that it could cause any glass hundreds of meters around her to burst from the shockwave. Even Medea had to cover her ears in order not to be deafened. However, Baal, easily avoiding another attack, simply continued the conversation as if nothing had happened.

"Indeed, even your Noble Phantasm - what a perverted understanding of love, hmm..." Baal thoughtfully turned his gaze to Aretmis' hands. "It's not even a Noble Phantasm in the truest sense of the word. Not a crystalized legend embodied into reality, not a myth or even a weapon. It is literally the embodiment of your love for Orion. Oh, love, the greatest thing that creates worlds and civilizations - and also easily destroys them!"

Each attack of Artemis had missed, but this did not bother Artemis at all. Forgetting all of her dignity and skills. Forgetting that she was once a graceful goddess of hunting, a great immaculate maiden. Artemis devolved to fighting like that of a mad animal, rushing over and over at her opponent in a crazed attempt to inflict at least a thousandth of that pain through which she - and Orin - had felt.

"How marvelous," Baal only sighed. "A Noble Phantasm that literally draws strength from love. Oh, what nobility!"

Artemis attacked again, but to Baal it was all the same. Medea was sure that even if each arrow of Artemis had reached its target, tearing Baal into pieces, he would still somehow continue to speak.

"Indeed, a Noble Phantasm that literally draws its strength from your love for Orion," Baal smiled, "In that case, we can say that the suffering of Orion is now beneficial to you. Only and only to you."

Artemis attacked again and again, each time with the frenzied frenzy of a cornered beast, but Baal was not bothered at all.

"Indeed, my spell," Baal waved his hand in the air, dodging another attack, "It is the most severe pain that is possible. Every nerve, every cell of the body, every particle of being, every thought of the mind is replaced by pain. A perfect torture spell that can break anyone. Oh, you didn't like it, you didn't like it at all. And what did Orion offer?"

"Oh, my dear," Baal's voice changed - becoming much higher and squeakier, imitating the voice that a plush toy in some kind of children's cartoon could have, "I will sacrifice myself! I will accept all of this inexpressible pain, because I love you!"

Baal, stretching out his arms forward, took a breath of air, as if about to burst into tears, and then burst out laughing - "Is it close?"

"DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE!" - Artemis couldn't even make a complete sentence anymore, simply pure emotion clothed in a crazy cry of rage. Medea understood that she had no chance of getting Artemis out of this state. No, it would not be strange if such an event forever left its mark on Artemis, a trace that she would carry through her every summon - in the past and in the future.

"But it was all for your sake," Baal smiled, "To get rid of the pain that had tormented you... And no one will condemn you for it. The beloved had chosen to sacrifice himself, protecting his beloved. What a classic romance story! And the beloved then seeks revenge - with all her pain and fury - because from the sacrifice of her lover her love for him only grows - and so she is able to show the world a Miracle, a Noble Phantasm, embodying her overwhelming love…"

Artemis stopped for a second, as if Baal's words had finally delivered a fatal blow.

"Even now you revel in the suffering of your beloved Orion," Baal smiled indulgently, "After all, pain is a seed of love, a seed of drama - and it is not by random chance that Orion's myth most often tells the story that his love was not returned, but instead was killed by your hand."

A second later, Artemis threw her bow to the ground and rushed forward.

There was no logical justification for her actions. There was no adequate reason for this. As an Archer, barring some exceptional cases, Artemis was strongest when using her bow, and fighting hand to hand was doomed more than any other. In other words, it was an absolutely suicidal action.

Baal grinned.

It was an attack of despair. It was the mad agony of a mind that broke from the words of a demon. It was Artemis mind finally snapping from all the rage.

Baal smiled, raising his hand again - after which he suddenly froze. Artemis had finally reached Baal to punch his face in - but before her fist could crash into Baal's body, Baal teleported away.

"This battle is over," His cruel, as if reveling in the pain of Artemis, tone of voice changed to a barely interested one, as if someone had sharply pulled the switch. Baal smiled, after which he sent his gaze first to Artemis, then to Medea, "Will you join our side?"

From the non-sequitur spoken words, the air seemed to freeze - even dust particles slowly falling to the ground froze in the air - before Medea realized what was just said.

"What?" She only looked at Baal with a blank stare.

"The Master has already finished everything he wanted to do and acquired everything he wanted," Baal smiled, "So there is no point in continuing our battle. Join us, we have cookies."

"Ha?" Medea blinked. "What..."

"RARGH!" - Artemis rushed forward, but Baal, who a second ago enjoyed the game of cat and mouse, extended his hand forward.

"Well, none of that," smiled Baal. "Hellsun."

A second later, Artemis' body caught fire. It was so fast that Medea did not even have time to realize what had just happened. Just an instantly soaring tongue of flame that glided over Artemis' body. Where the flame of bright red touched Artemis, there was no ash, no bone, no flesh. Nothing.

A second later, the flame, capturing Artemis completely, disappeared as quickly as it came, without even leaving a trace of anything behind.

"Oh, I do love this ability of mine!" Baal smiled at what had just happened, showing a gleeful expression, looking at Medea, he shook his head, "Planck's temperature concentrated on only one object, it didn't even raise the temperature at all. This is rarely seen in reality, right?"

Medea, having heard Baal's gleeful explanation, froze.

"Oh, look, are you not in a hurry to attack me?" Baal smiled at Medea's silence, "A wise choice! I knew that I liked you not only for your appearance."

After these words, Baal teleported again next to a soft plush toy and bending to pick it up from the ground.

"The excruciating pain destroyed any of his ability to react to the world around him," Baal sighed, and then shook his head, "And I can't put living things inside my Inventory, hmm, what to do, what to do... Oh yes! Frost of Judecca."

A second later, an ice cocoon froze around Orion's body. After his whole body had been covered in ice, a black funnel appeared in front of Baal. Baal, not paying any special attention to it, just threw Orion's frozen body into the funnel, after which he turned towards Medea - "I will give it to some little girl. After all, even to me, the demon, love for children is not alien at all."

After that, Baal stretched a little, "So, let's go?"

Medea, swaying slowly, still not fully internalising such a quick change of circumstances in front of her, could only utter, "I will certainly find a way to kill you."

"What kind of Emperor of Demons will I be if I don't even have a deputy trying to kill me?" Baal chuckled mockingly, after which he extended a hand to the girl, "But this can be done later. In the meantime - let's go, I would not advise making the Master wait."

Troias Tragoidia - Achilles' Noble Phantasm, his faithful chariot drawn by three horses. The two immortal divine horses of Poseidon, Xanthos and Balius, and the favorite of Achilles himself, Pedasos. His magnificent chariot, which was as fast as lightning and could trample an army easily. It was not a vehicle - it was a weapon aimed at destroying any enemy in Achilles' path. One of the five Noble Phantasms of Achilles.

Unfortunately, even its unimaginable power was useless against Cainabel. Although it was impossible to overestimate the strength of Achilles' chariot - even when it came to the great hero of Greece, Cainabel's abilities did not give any ambiguity in interpreting the effect of what happened. If this Noble Phantasm was of rank A - and, unfortunately, the chariot of Achilles was of this rank - its effect will be canceled.

Dromeus Kometes - "Achilles, the fastest hero of all." Unlike other Noble Phantasms, Cainabel's power does not display any effect over this ability. Although Cainabel's ability could suppress any Noble Phantasm of too low rank directed against her - this force was not aimed at causing damage at all. In a sense, it was nothing more than an amplification, a buff if you like, able to radically increase Achilles' speed. And, as you know, according to the simple laws of physics - if two bodies are the same in all parameters, but one of them is two times faster than the second, then the amount of energy released during the collision of two bodies will differ by half.

Akhilleus Kosmos was a gift to Achilles, his beautiful shield, like that of an indestructible bastion in his hands. Forged by Hephaestus as a gift to Achilles, this was not just a strip of iron in his hands. According to legend, Hephaestus, at the behest of Poseidon, shackled the whole world into this shield - a world in which Achilles himself could have lived if he so wished. It was not an absolute defense - if one could consider the whole world shrouded in one shield not absolute - but it was difficult to overestimate the defensive power of such a Noble Phantasm. However, unlike Hephaestus or Poseidon, who only created a shield, in the hands of Achilles it gained another way to be used.

Of course, a shield embodying the power of a whole world could become an insurmountable wall on the path of any attack. But Achilles, a young man striving for battle, did not want a shield. Blessed by his mother, possessing impenetrable skin, Achilles did not see his shield as a necessary thing. And even if he had not been blessed with his indestructible protection - Achilles was not one who preferred to hide behind a shield, to wait for another attack from the enemy. Therefore, the shield, a tool for defense, became in his hands another avenue of attack.

Yes, a whole world was shackled in this shield - and therefore, for the first time looking at his shield, Achilles thought. What if he does not use the power of the world enclosed in his shield in order to defend himself from the attack of the enemy? What if he instead brings out the power of the prisoner inside the world to the enemy?

In the end, it was no conceptual attack or a stunning metaphor for the legend of Achilles. No. He simply concentrated all the protection bestowed by the shield. All the power hidden within the world - and then released it in one blow, putting every grain of its strength in only one attack.

One monstrously powerful attack.

And though this Noble Phantasm of Achilles did not greatly exceed his other abilities - this was enough to surpass Cainabel's defenses.

However, even so, the outcome of the battle was not a foregone conclusion.

Yes, the automatic suppression and defense ceased to affect Achilles Noble Phantasm as soon as he crossed a certain critical line of strength. But this did not mean that Cainabel had become defenseless. Just as Achilles himself kept the seal of his divinity on himself, like the Divine Hand of Hercules, like the power of other invincible Servants, Cainabel had many abilities that made killing her a very impossible task. Even the most powerful attack of Achilles was, albeit unpleasant, but still not a fatal surprise for her.

But Achilles didn't just throw his Noble Phantasm at Cainabel.

Troias Tragoidia and Dromeus Kometes. The divine chariot and the legend of the fastest Servant in the world.

And although the difference between a simple strike - and Achilles' enhanced strike was only simple in their speed - the speed of an object increased tens of times also increases the collision's momentum just as much.

Therefore, when strengthened, even when Cainabel had managed to react and create some simple protective spells - even then the blow of Achilles was so strong that when his shield touched Cainabel in the abdomen - the whole upper body of the girl practically ceased to exist. It was as if a heat wave instantly evaporated a drop of water without a moment of delay. In an instant the entire upper part of Cainabel's body disappeared.

Instant. One hit. That's all that Achilles could give out.

That's all it took for him to kill his opponent.

Achilles, slowing down, looked at the remaining lower body of his recent adversary. It is slowly trying to regrow its shape back to a humanlike appearance - took an awkward step back. Then more and more, after which, Cainabel fell to the ground.

In the instant when Achilles' blow struck Cainabel, a shock wave erupted - tearing off the ground, disturbing the currents of the wind, spreading out like waves. Hundreds, thousands of meters of monstrous force, the shock wave spreaded out. But Achilles did not pay attention to it. His full attention was riveted to the still twitching lower half remaining part of Cainabel's body on the ground, until it finally stopped moving.

"Haaaa..." Achilles released the breath he was unknowingly holding.

It was one of the most difficult battles in his life.

One of the fastest, of course, but still the most difficult.

Three Noble Phantasms used in one attack. Sacrifice of his ally. And all this - it was decided by literally a toss of a coin. Achilles knew that if Cainabel had reacted faster, if she had considered him as a more serious enemy, if she was not distracted by David, if he had not used all of his Noble Phantasms, if he hadn't dealt a blow like he just did now... Everything would have ended completely differently.

Achilles pulled away from the opponent and slowly turned around.

Mana reserves... Absolute zero. He was on the verge - not for surviving another battle, but of existence itself as Servant. Fatigue... One that can not be fixed and a week of rest. Devastation... One that will not let him fight for more than one day.

Achilles won - at an incredibly high price.

Achilles took a step away, one more and one more...

"And you know how to piss me off," Cainabel's voice sounded like thunder from a clear sky, like a bell ringing in silence, causing Achilles to sigh.

Even all his strength was not enough.

Achilles slowly turned toward where Cainabel's body had fallen.

The torn body of a girl slowly regained its shape. A small trickle of blood from David's body slowly flowed to Cainabel's body, rising up against all the laws of physics, then slowly poured into the girl's hewn remains, slowly reforming her body again. The stomach, chest, shoulders, arms, neck, face... Slowly, as if in a surrealistic horror film, Cainabel's body returned to its original shape as if in mockery of all the efforts of Achilles.

After a couple of seconds, Cainabel's body twitched, and then slowly rose from the ground.

Cainabel looked... Not in good shape.

David's blood was already spent a little earlier, Cainabel was not able to fully recover. Yes, in a few hours her normal regeneration will fully restore her body, appearance, even the cheeky smug smile on her face, but now...

Cainabel's left arm was missing below the elbow, ending in a small stump. Cainabel no longer had her smug grin on her face and lacked the cruel gleam in her eyes, smug and impudent. Slowly, the girl exhaled.

It was not the exhausted exhalation of a cornered animal, but rather the put upon sigh of a janitor seeing the mess they have to clean...

Achilles smirked smugly, "Wow, did I wipe that smugness from your face?"

At its core, the outcome of the battle was a foregone conclusion. Even if Cainabel retained only one percent of her strength, Achilles did not even have a thousandth of a percent left. Neither his Noble Phantasms, nor his invulnerability, nor his loyal spear - nothing could give Achilles victory in this clash.

And yet, he achieved something. He was able to injure an opponent comparable to the great Hero of antiquity. Perhaps even, a wound upon a deity.

"Oh, silly little Servant," Cainabel slowly rose from the ground, letting her white curls fall on her shoulders, with her body again covered in a silk black dress, "You can't even imagine how angry I am now with you."

"So show me then," Achilles, even feeling the futility of the battle, gave a brave grin and grabbed his spear. Well, maybe there's one more or two blows he can withstand - "Impress my imagination."

Cainabel, with a sigh, extended her hand to the side - after which a small umbrella appeared in the tenacious grip of her palm. Cainabel turned her gaze to her weapon, completely ignoring the actions of Achilles, and then returned her gaze to the Servant, "You are so smug — but you are not stronger than even the tintoy... Oh, if you are summoned again — I will use all my strength and influence to get you."

"You will not be the first girl trying to do this," Achilles chuckled, after which, after a second, he rushed forward.

His Noble Phantasms ceased to function, all his mana were exhausted - but even so, Achilles was far from defeated. His body disappeared like a golden flash and the spear in his hands flashed like lightning...

And yet - this was all for naught.

Cainabel did not dodge, taking the harmless strike of the spear on her body, and then retaliated. The umbrella in her hand evaporated a moment before the strike reached Achilles - after which a straight palm crashed into Achilles' body.

After another second, Cainabel's hand sank further, then further, after which, finding its target, it finally stopped.

Achilles felt the small girl's palm rest on his heart. Each small finger, each manicured nail, squeezed onto Achilles' heart, after which he felt his breathing instantly hitching when Cainabel's palm tightened. Just a little, as if to make it clear to Achilles that he was already dead.

However, Achilles' death did not come, instead Cainabel froze a second later. She did give a mocking speech and did not kill Achilles. She froze instantly, as if petrified.

Achilles would like to turn to look behind him in order to look at the reason for her action, as if Cainabel had seen something behind him that caused her to freeze in place. But the grip tightening on his heart prevented him from shifting even a millimeter without risking being instantly killed by one careless moment from Cainabel.

"I understand," Cainabel unexpectedly started talking politely to someone, after which she bowed a little. Achilles could not see the expression on Cainabel's face, but he would have given a lot to look at her face, expressing respectful fear and courtesy - "Hmm, rejoice, Servant. You can live."

"Hah," Achilles felt the grip on his heart loosening a little, letting him turn a little, "Oh well? And what do I have to do?"

"Kneel and beg for mercy," Cainabel smiled at Achilles's face, which was so close to her, "and I will gladly make you my servant."

Achilles did not answer immediately, allowing himself a smug grin, "And what if I refuse?"

Cainabel's palm tightened a little on Achilles's heart. "I don't advise such a course of action."

"Ha..." Achilles grinned, then, thinking, exhaled, "Well, I refuse."

"The legends were not exaggerating when they talked about your stupidity," Cainabel smiled.

Achilles, too, smiled - "And about my courage."

The spear of Achilles, his Noble Phantasm, the spear of the slayer of heroes. Although the full power of this Noble Phantasm could be revealed only when Achilles is summoned as a Lancer - this did not mean that one of the five Noble Phantasms of Achilles was useless. Even without the embodiment of it's full strength, his spear remained an excellent weapon.

It was not enough to injure Cainabel.

But it was enough to give her a last unpleasant surprise.

Achilles' spear pierced his back, and then, moving on, instantly pierced his heart.

Achilles grinned.

"I do not like giving my heart to unfamiliar girls" - Achilles chuckled - "I was raised as a sort of a gentleman"

A second later, Achilles closed his eyes, continuing to laugh at his opponent. The last thing he managed to see was the impotent apocalyptic anger in Cainabel's eyes.

Type: Indefinable

Some Phantasms can only be used on the possessor - an Anti-Self.

Some Phantasms can only be used against one target - anti-Unit.

Some Phantasms are like thousands of arrows hitting a thousand enemies at a time - an Anti-army.

Some Phantasms are like a ram ramming into the gates of a fortress - an Anti-fortress type.

Some Phantasms strike the imagination with their unimaginable power, capable of violating the very concept of the possible and the impossible - an Anti-world.

Some Phantasms combine all of this into one.

The thousand traps of the Great Tomb.

The Thousand Warriors of the Ten Floors.

The Thousand buffs of the Guild Base.

The Thousand artifacts of the Treasury.

The Thousand defenses of the Throne of Kings.

A thousand of thousands opportunities.

In other words, the limit of ability and type of this Noble Phantasm is so vast that it can only be defined as indefinable.