Cu Chulainn

Cu Chulainn, the legendary hero of Ulster and the fearsome Lancer in this Holy Grail War, had always thrived on the thrill of battle. Each encounter was a test of his skills, a dance with death where only the strongest survived. His instincts, honed over countless battles, had rarely led him astray. But tonight, under the silvery glow of the moon, those same instincts had betrayed him.

The streets of Fuyuki City were bathed in an eerie light, the cold air thick with tension. Lancer moved with the silent grace of a predator, his crimson spear held loosely in his hand as he stalked his prey. His target was a seemingly ordinary student, a boy who had the misfortune of witnessing his earlier clash with Archer. In a war where even the slightest misstep could lead to disaster, Lancer knew he couldn't afford to leave any loose ends.

The boy ran ahead, his breath coming in ragged gasps, each step echoing off the narrow walls of the alley. Lancer smirked, his lips curling into a predatory grin. The hunt was nearly over. A single thrust would end it, and the witness would be silenced forever.

Closing the distance in a heartbeat, Lancer lunged forward, his spear slicing through the air with lethal precision. The boy barely had time to gasp as the spearhead pierced his chest. His eyes widened in shock, a silent scream caught in his throat as his body went limp, collapsing to the ground.

Lancer withdrew his spear, the crimson blade gleaming ominously in the moonlight. He should have felt satisfaction, the familiar rush of a successful kill. But something was wrong. A nagging feeling at the back of his mind told him that this had been too easy.

His instincts flared, warning him of unseen danger. Lancer's eyes darted around the alley, his grip tightening on his spear as he knelt beside the body. He prodded it with the tip of his weapon, his expression darkening. The corpse felt real—too real. But something about it didn't sit right with him.

Before Lancer could investigate further, the air around him shimmered, distorting like a heatwave. A figure materialized out of the shadows, their presence so perfectly concealed that even Lancer's finely tuned senses hadn't detected them until it was too late.

The figure moved with an otherworldly grace, their hand raised in a gesture that seemed almost casual. In an instant, the world around them shifted. The dark alleyway of Fuyuki dissolved, replaced by the dense, foreboding darkness of a forest. Towering trees loomed overhead, their twisted branches forming a natural barrier that trapped Lancer within.

Lancer's eyes narrowed as he took in his surroundings. This wasn't just any forest. It was a bounded field, an intricate web of protections and barriers designed to entrap its victims. And he had walked right into it.

Lancer turned to face his captor, his spear held at the ready. The figure before him wore a hooded cloak, their face obscured in shadow. But the aura of power that radiated from them was undeniable.

"Are you sure you aren't a Servant?" Lancer asked, his voice laced with disbelief. His instincts told him that this opponent was far more than they appeared to be.

The hooded figure tilted their head slightly, as if considering the question. "It's none of your business," they replied calmly, their voice low and even.

The two combatants stood there for a moment, sizing each other up. Lancer's instincts screamed at him to be cautious, but caution had never been his strong suit. He was a warrior, born and bred—retreat was not in his nature.

"Doesn't matter," Lancer growled, his patience wearing thin. "I'll end you here and now."

With a burst of speed that left a trail of afterimages, Lancer charged at his opponent, his spear a crimson blur as it cut through the air. The hooded figure responded in kind, drawing a sword that glowed with an ethereal light. The weapons clashed with a deafening roar, the force of the impact sending shockwaves through the ground.

The combatants engaged in a fierce exchange, their weapons moving in a deadly ballet. Lancer's superior combat skill was immediately apparent. His strikes were precise, each one aimed to kill, his movements fluid and flawless. But his opponent was no slouch either. The hooded figure matched him blow for blow, their swordplay adaptive and unorthodox.

The clash of spear and sword reverberated through the forest, each impact resonating with the raw power of their wills. Lancer's spear, a weapon of raw destructive force, met the ethereal blade of his opponent with intense force. Each time their weapons connected, the resulting shockwaves caused the trees around them to shudder and groan, their ancient trunks creaking under the strain.

Lancer could feel it—their battle was more than just a physical exchange. The figure before him was learning, mimicking his techniques, adapting with terrifying speed. It was as if they were absorbing his every move, growing stronger with each passing second.

"Who the hell are you?" Lancer demanded, frustration seeping into his voice. He pressed the attack, his spear moving in a deadly dance of thrusts and sweeps, but the figure continued to keep pace, their sword weaving a defensive web that deflected every strike.

The figure didn't answer. Instead, they suddenly pushed Lancer back with a powerful blow, creating distance between them. Lancer skidded to a halt, his spear held at the ready as he watched his opponent carefully.

The hooded figure raised their hand again, and with a subtle gesture, invoked a spell—*Omni Transmutation*. Lancer's eyes widened as he watched the figure craft a new weapon from pure energy—a sword that shimmered with an otherworldly light, its edges sharp and deadly.

The sword, Soul Bane, was designed specifically to combat spiritual beings. Its construction involved knowledge not of this world, and its mere presence radiated an aura that was unsettling.

"What the…?" Lancer muttered, his instincts screaming at him to be wary. The weapon felt wrong, dangerous in a way that sent chills down his spine.

"Are you ready?" the figure asked, their tone eerily calm as they pointed the glowing sword at Lancer.

Lancer gritted his teeth, determination burning in his eyes. "Do you think I would go down easily? Moreover, to someone like you?"

With a burst of power, Lancer launched himself forward, his spear aimed directly at the figure's heart. His speed was unparalleled, the tip of his spear mere inches away from its target when suddenly, everything slowed to a crawl.

Time itself seemed to bend, warping around the hooded figure as they activated their next ability—*Time Manipulation*. Lancer's eyes widened in shock as he realized what was happening, his mind racing. The figure moved with a precision that defied logic, their glowing sword cutting through the air as they closed in on Lancer's exposed flank.

It was a move that would have killed any ordinary opponent. But Lancer was no ordinary man.

As the blade descended, Lancer's body flickered, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. The energy sword sliced through empty air, the force of the swing causing the trees around them to shudder.

The hooded figure—Shirou—paused, lowering his sword as the world around him returned to normal speed. The bounded field shimmered and then dissolved, the oppressive atmosphere of the forest lifting.

Shirou let out a quiet sigh, understanding what had just occurred. Lancer's sudden disappearance could only mean one thing—his Master had used a Command Spell to summon him back to safety at the last possible moment.

"Kirei Kotomine," Shirou muttered, recognizing the interference. The priest had pulled Lancer out of harm's way, preventing what would have been a fatal blow.

But Shirou wasn't disappointed. He hadn't entered this battle with the intention of killing Lancer—at least, not yet. His goal had been to test his own abilities, to refine his skills and gather combat experience. In that regard, the encounter had been a success.

As the night grew quiet once more, Shirou sheathed his sword, the ethereal blade dissipating into thin air. He had learned a great deal from his battle with Lancer, and that knowledge would serve him well in the coming days.

The Holy Grail War was just beginning, and Shirou was ready to face whatever came next. As he vanished into the shadows, his thoughts were already on the next move in this deadly game. There was much to do, and he intended to come out on top.