Pseudo Spiral Sword (Caladbolg II)

The scene shifts once more, arriving atop a gleaming skyscraper under the serene moonlight.

The Archer duo stands there, brows raised, gazing down at the unfolding battle with a certain nonchalance.

Unlike the young man's playful, carefree demeanor, a wistful look flashes through the eyes of the female Heroic Spirit, accompanied by a soft sigh.

So many years had passed, yet witnessing this sight again stirred old emotions.

It was as if her heart trembled, and though she smiled, a tear slipped down, laced with a silent sorrow.

But in the next instant, she steadied herself, her heart sharpening like a sword. With a swift stroke, she severed the lingering threads of sentiment, and the thick, nostalgic memories dispersed into the night breeze.

Her past lay buried in ancient history, unknown, unsung.

Only when wielding her infinite blades did she fleetingly recall her origins.

The ancient white-haired Heroic Spirit gave a rueful smile and sighed, "Master, don't you plan to step in?"

"At this rate, Saber's Master will be easy to control. You saved her life, so taking down Rider and allying with Saber would be ideal."

"No need."

Luo Shu folded his arms with a relaxed smile. "I enjoy watching women fight the most."

The cold wind blew, stirring the hem of his moon-white robes.

In this moment, he was the graceful young gentleman, clad in white, laughing at the beauty before him.

The white-haired Heroic Spirit raised an intrigued brow and asked, "And if I want to kill Rider?"

"Then kill her, as you please."

The youth, dressed in a robe as pale as moonlight, chuckled, entirely unconcerned.

He held no strong desire for the Holy Grail—he had joined the battle merely by virtue of his family's heritage and as a way to test his own magical prowess.

His Servant harbored no intentions of betrayal, so why not let her act as she wished?

After all, she had answered his summons, bound to seek victory.

Why would he stand in her way?

"My Master truly is a remarkable mage."

The white-haired Heroic Spirit smiled, yet her gaze grew serious as she looked down below.

Then, with an elegant arc of brilliant blue light surging in her hands, she projected the B+-rank Noble Phantasms Gan Jiang and Mo Ye into her grip, one blade black, the other white, enhancing her air of elegance.

Clink.

In Luo Shu's astonished gaze, the hilts of Gan Jiang and Mo Ye merged.

As a frosty mist swirled, they transformed into a long bow of black and white, pure as crystal.

The white-haired woman's gaze grew sharp as an eagle's, her single hand pulling the bowstring taut. Boundless magical energy surged into the bow, exuding a power that seemed capable of shaking the heavens.

"—Pseudo Spiral Sword (Caladbolg II)!"

Her incantation was quiet and arcane, a mesmerizing whirlpool of mystery.

From her palm emerged a spiral sword with intricate patterns.

It was the magic sword of Fergus mac Róich from Celtic mythology, an A+-rank Noble Phantasm wielded by Cu Chulainn's foster father, another hero of Celtic legend.

The Archer class Heroic Spirit had modified it, projecting it to serve as an arrow.

Cu Chulainn, destined to fall before this sword, could even be called its fated enemy.

As the annotation appeared, laughter erupted worldwide.

"This is just targeted at our dear 'Dog Brother,' isn't it?"

"Haha, poor Dog Brother!"

"Cu Chulainn: If you're a man, fight me fair and square!"

"Archer has manifested the Spiral Sword. Where are you Dog Brother? Come and face your end!"

"This white-haired Heroic Spirit is incredible. From the legendary Gan Jiang and Mo Ye of the East to the magical sword from Celtic myth… She can project it all! That's some insane range!"

"I suspect she has a vast arsenal, capable of projecting every Noble Phantasm in existence!"

"Oh man, what's her real identity?"

"Could she be the legendary king who possesses all treasures—the hero Gilgamesh?"

"Hiss, that's possible!"

"If that's true, Luo-kun's victory is guaranteed!"

"Definitely a solid win!"

…

The scene continued.

Even the white-clad noble youth looked somewhat impressed, tapping his chin in thought.

"To think she can project even a Noble Phantasm like that. Quite the surprise…"

Atop the skyscraper, the white-haired woman's gaze was intense. With deft hands, she readied the spiral sword on her bow, transforming it into a formidable magical arrow.

She raised her right hand, drawing the bowstring to its full length.

She aimed at the purple silhouette several kilometers away, calculating her opponent's next move.

Then, she gently released the bowstring…

An intense, tension-filled musical score began to play, akin to the fierce pipa rhythms of Ambush from Ten Sides, radiating a chilling intent to kill.

All around the world, people held their breath in suspense.

Whoosh!!

The arrow tore through the air!

Magical energy surged forth, its radiant glow like a blazing phoenix!

The magical arrow streaked across the night sky faster than a meteor, moving at light speed.

The camera zoomed out, capturing the city's neon lights.

Under the glimmering lights, the bustling traffic below seemed to slow, as if time itself had paused. But the arrow soared faster than light, tearing through the air and piercing everything in its path.

The sight was breathtaking.

United States, Pentagon

"An arrow that can reach several kilometers in an instant…"

Five-star General McArthur stared at the screen, visibly stunned by the attack he had just witnessed. Even the world's most advanced hypersonic missile, the Titan II ICBM, could barely reach 27,000 kilometers per hour. Yet this spiraling sword appeared to surpass even that.

He couldn't help but wonder about the explosion's potential impact area.

The existence of Heroic Spirits… was indeed terrifying.

If that arrow's target weren't Medusa, but the Pentagon instead…

The mere thought sent a shiver through McArthur's spine. He found himself somewhat relieved that no Heroic Spirits existed in their world. Otherwise, life in America would be anything but easy.

England had Arthur, Newton, Queen Elizabeth II…

France had Joan of Arc, Napoleon, and even De Gaulle…

Germany boasted Martin Luther, Bismarck, and… that infamous dictator.

But America? With its relatively brief history, how could they ever compete with those old-world nations?

---

Then, everything came to an abrupt halt.

"Boom…!!"

Above the ruins of the academy, a blinding explosion erupted, flames surging into the sky!

A slowly rising mushroom cloud marked the site, as if a nuclear blast had just occurred.

In the midst of their intense battle, Medusa and the Knight King paused; on top of a nearby skyscraper, the white-haired Heroic Spirit furrowed her brows in surprise.

She had missed…

Just as her arrow was about to strike Medusa, another arrow shot from a different angle, colliding perfectly with her spiraling sword. The resulting explosion filled the air with heat waves, causing the area to sizzle, but it harmed no one. It was as though someone in the shadows had intervened to warn Rider.

The battlefield had descended into chaos, with multiple forces maneuvering in secret.

After all, this was the opening clash of the Holy Grail War, and they were bound to draw attention.

In the basement of the Matou residence, Shinji frowned as he issued an order.

"Rider, you can retreat now."

"Understood…"

In the ruins, the purple-haired Rider nodded calmly. Before vanishing, she gazed intently at the Knight King.

"Saber, you and I will face each other again in a battle to the death," she declared.

Her figure gradually faded, transforming into shimmering particles that drifted away on the wind.

Remaining behind, Artoria solemnly raised her holy sword, refraining from pursuing Medusa.

The enemy's location was uncertain, and she was determined to protect her Master.

---

The camera panned slowly.

After a brief fade-out, the scene brightened to reveal another towering skyscraper.

On the rooftop, a mysterious figure lowered her bow.

From a young age, she had released the perfect shot, her arrow embodying her ideal vision.

Ever since, hitting her target was second nature—effortless and nearly instinctual. No matter what kind of arrow she held, each shot was flawless, almost divine.

Not even a Heroic Spirit could compare.

Turning gracefully, she disappeared from the rooftop, her figure fading into the night.

A gentle breeze swept by, slightly lifting the edge of her pristine white uniform.

It was unmistakably the school uniform of Suiryo Academy…

Shock!

Total bewilderment!

"Who on earth is this being, capable of matching Heroic Spirits in battle?"

Around the world, people could feel the tension in their jaws.

And yet, the broadcast had deliberately avoided showing her face.

Didn't they know how curious everyone was?!

Speculation erupted everywhere, but with so little information, no one could deduce her true identity.

---

Meanwhile, in the real world.

In the Four Palaces estate's garden in Japan, the blonde maid Ai Hayasaka scratched her head in confusion.

"Why does that silhouette look so… familiar?"

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