Chapter 10

At night, Jeanne d'Arc gazed at the city map projected by holy water, a unique ability of the Ruler class. The map showed the locations of all Heroic Spirits. Oddly, only the red Heroic Spirit appeared within the city limits, while the others were in the neighboring city. Even the Black Faction's presence was minimal. This didn't mean Tupilas was entirely under the Black Faction's control, but the lack of a stronghold for the red was surprising.

Why was this lone red Heroic Spirit venturing into enemy territory?

At that moment, Jeanne noticed all the Black Faction's Heroic Spirits moving towards the forest, clearly intending to intercept the lone red Heroic Spirit daring to approach their stronghold.

"Three red Heroic Spirits now?" Jeanne's eyes widened as a third color appeared on the map. A pure white figure joined the two red Heroic Spirits, rapidly converging with the lone red Heroic Spirit at the front.

"A white faction? This calls for a Ruler's intervention," Jeanne nodded to herself. "I have to investigate this maybe this is the anomaly in the grail war,"

Cyd, heading towards Berserker's location, narrowed his eyes.

"Were being watched..." he muttered.

Atalanta and Achilles, trailing behind, exchanged glances and Achilles spoke, "I can't sense anything at all you really are amazing I can't wait to fight you."

"you've been saying that since we left the church," Cyd sighed.

A loud noise echoed from ahead, accompanied by strange laughter.

"Found you, troublemaker," Cyd leapt onto a branch, crossing his arms as he looked down at the Berserker.

The man was pure muscle—a living legend of a sword-wielding warrior. Spartacus, the leader of a slave revolt.

"Come now, liberate yourself!" Spartacus grinned menacingly, crushing a Golem with a single blow.

"This guy doesn't even try to dodge," Atalanta remarked, landing beside Cyd. "Even if he could, he'd still take the hit head-on."

"He's a Berserker," Achilles shrugged. "Stopping him isn't possible. Even if we manage to take him down, he'll just keep coming back. Might as well let him cause chaos and explode like a cannon fodder."

"Just stop him before he gets captured or worse reveal the grail war to the public," Cyd sighed, jumping down. "You two can act on your own; don't worry about me."

"Got it!"

"Why do you listen to him?" Atalanta was puzzled.

"I grew up hearing his stories," Achilles gazed at Spartacus' back with a hint of melancholy. "My parents always spoke of the great hero who sacrificed everything for freedom."

"Indeed, he was a great hero, but..." Atalanta began but was cut off.

"Irresponsible husband?" Achilles teased, earning a swift kick from Atalanta that sent him tumbling off the tree.

"I'll deal with you later!" she snapped.

"Alright, alright," Achilles muttered, getting up.

"Hey! Red Berserker, can you hear me?" Cyd approached Spartacus, ready for a fight.

"Of course I can hear you, ally!" Spartacus surprised Cyd by blocking an attack from behind and extending a friendly arm. "Together, we revolt! I'll be your shield towards a free future!"

"Although I don't entirely understand, I'm moved!" Cyd admitted, eyes wide.

"More enemies ahead!" At this moment, a figure with pink hair emerged from the Golem group.

"Wait, I'm not..." Cyd began, but was interrupted.

"Oppressors!" Spartacus roared, uprooting a tree and swinging it at the pink-haired figure.

"Danger!" The figure dodged just in time, while the surrounding Golems were not so lucky.

"Come, oppressor! Attack me!" Spartacus challenged with a maniacal grin.

"Wait! I'm Astolfo of the Twelve Paladins of Charlemagne! Let's resolve this peacefully!" Astolfo cried, brandishing a long spear.

"You are an oppressor!" Spartacus bellowed, attacking with ferocious intensity.

"This won't end well!" Astolfo gripped his spear tightly. "Experience the power of Argalia!"

Spartacus, rather than evading, seemed to welcome the spear's impact, anticipating the pain as a badge of honor.

"Trap of Argalia!" Astolfo charged.

"Oppressor!"

The impact sent Spartacus sprawling, his leg severed.

"My Noble Phantasm isn't powerful, but it can knock you down," Astolfo smirked as his spear returned to his hand.

"To you, someone who can communicate," Astolfo turned to Cyd. "You seem reasonable, so I'll give you a chance to leave."

"Ally, run!" Spartacus roared, but was quickly overwhelmed by more Golems.

"I had a reason for not leaving earlier," Cyd said, touching his chin thoughtfully.

"You don't seem like the type to abandon comrades," Astolfo admitted, aiming his spear at Cyd.

"And you said..."

"Trap of Argalia!"

Astolfo charged, spear aimed directly at Cyd, who didn't move an inch.

"Clang!"

Cyd caught the spear mid-thrust. "Interesting Noble Phantasm."

"Not what I expected..." Astolfo's eyes widened.

"Rider, watch out!" Vlad III, riding a Golem, appeared, black stakes shooting towards Cyd.

"Kazikli Bey," Vlad intoned coldly. "Intruders meet this fate."

"I'm not an intruder," Cyd sighed, pinned by the stakes.

More stakes rained down, pinning Cyd further to the ground.

"Why are you just watching?" Cyd looked towards Atalanta, hidden in the treetops.

"Aren't you a Ruler? Not helping you wouldn't break any rules. Besides..." Atalanta smirked. "Nothing in this world can truly harm you, right, my... prey?"