Fate: How About a New Savior?

None of the attackers dared to act recklessly.

The coordinated weather Magecraft cast by their comrades had been unraveled in an instant. All of them felt the extraordinary Mana radiating from the light that had just risen.

Could Iselma also possess a spell of such scale capable of controlling the weather? That thought ran through the minds of several attackers.

"Honestly, I'm pretty pissed right now," Shiomi said, brushing back his hair. "I was planning to see what kind of game Valualeta was playing, and then you people show up and pull this stunt… Nouveau riche are still nouveau riche. Leopards don't change their spots."

As he ran his hand through his hair, Shiomi's rain-soaked body and clothes dried in the blink of an eye, as if he'd never been caught in the storm at all.

But that wasn't what drew their attention. One after another, glowing Rune characters began to materialize in the forest, floating midair.

Rune Magecraft.

Every one of them had at least basic Magus training, and they could instantly recognize the nature of this magic.

"You're not worth my time. Send your leader."

Shiomi lowered his hand and spoke with a cold detachment, as if already looking at corpses.

The Rune symbols flared with blinding brilliance. Screams erupted from the attackers, and those with quicker reflexes scrambled to cast defensive spells.

Modern Rune Magecraft had long declined. Although Touko Aozaki had reconstructed the system, even deciphering several lost Primordial Runes, those reconstructed ones were now patented by the Clock Tower and sealed away. And the revived techniques had only resurfaced in the last decade or two—Magus who had truly mastered them were exceedingly rare.

So, when the floating Runes activated on their own, most of the Magus in the vanguard hadn't been on high alert.

They figured their opponent was just one person, wielding an outdated and obscure system like Rune Magecraft. Nothing to fear.

That assumption quickly got them killed.

Magus after Magus fell one by one. Those who hadn't underestimated their enemy managed to block most of the damage with protective spells, but even they were left in a miserable state.

They collapsed into the thick underbrush, hidden beneath the greenery. Ignoring their groans, Shiomi stepped forward, slowly making his way deeper into the forest—toward the location, several kilometers away, where the weather Magecraft had originated.

But as the vanguard unit, these attackers weren't going to surrender that easily. The still-conscious Magus leaned against tree trunks, preparing to cast thunder spells.

Without the weather support from their allies in the rear, these spells reverted to their base power, no longer enhanced by the previous amplification.

Still, with enough attackers, they might be able to wound the strange Magus standing before them.

"Didn't I already say you're not up to the task?"

Shiomi raised his hand.

Before the lightning, fire, and ice arrows formed by Mana could even be released, a strange wind swept through the forest. It whipped at the Magus's hoods and cloaks with an eerie intensity.

Before they could even grasp what was happening, the flow of their Mana was violently disrupted, followed by a wave of searing pain.

The arms used to cast spells—those embedded with Magic Circuits—were severed at the root. Blood sprayed through the forest, staining the green bushes and leaves a vivid red.

Cries of agony rang out, but Shiomi didn't even flinch. He simply watched as a young man with blond hair and brown skin stepped from the shadows between the trees.

"My, what a spectacle. I never thought Iselma would hire such a powerful bodyguard," Atrum said, his tone mockingly polite. "Even the weather Magecraft I personally designed was broken in an instant. Is that Catalyst really so precious to you?"

Though his words feigned admiration, his clenched teeth and bloodthirsty gaze betrayed the rage simmering beneath the surface—as if he were ready to tear apart anyone standing in his way.

"A curse... Oh."

Shiomi let out a quiet sound of realization.

He had initially assumed these attackers were linked to those who killed the Princess of Gold and Princess of Silver—but in fact, it was the opposite.

So, Galliasta was the rival who had his auction item snatched away by Iselma at that underground auction.

In hindsight, it seemed Iselma had picked the wrong opponent to provoke.

"You're not one of Iselma's hired Magus, are you?" Atrum quickly deduced Shiomi's stance from those few words. "Why not lend me a hand instead? Galliasta's willing to pay even more—to someone like you, Noble Slayer of the Clock Tower."

Atrum had already identified Shiomi from the intelligence he'd gathered, so he made no effort to hide his recruitment attempt.

"You brought this many people to seize the Catalyst... aiming to take part in the upcoming Fifth Holy Grail War, right?" Shiomi asked.

"Naturally. That's why I'd be honored to invite you, Mr. Shiomi—a seasoned veteran of the Holy Grail War—to join us," Atrum replied, his tone coated in false politeness.

Shiomi remained indifferent. "So that means you'll be Sakura's enemy. That won't do."

Sakura could probably handle this group, but their sheer numbers made the situation dangerous. If she underestimated them or reacted poorly due to her lack of battlefield experience, she could face serious consequences in the Holy Grail War.

This, however, was the perfect opportunity...

"What?" Atrum caught the rising wave of bloodlust in the air.

He sensed a shift in Shiomi's demeanor.

"My apologies—but since the time, place, and circumstances are all just right, please die here, Mr. Galliasta." Shiomi raised his hand, and the sky that had just cleared was once again swallowed by dark clouds.

Atrum's expression twisted.

It wasn't the Magus he'd stationed in the rear who had restored the spell—someone else was altering the weather.

Could it be those same Magus who had dismantled the previous weather spell?

That thought excited Atrum, and the Magus behind him stirred in anticipation, awaiting their master's command.

"Wonderful! Just wonderful! Death, death, death! As expected of the infamous Noble Slayer—you kill nobles indiscriminately, don't you?!"

Atrum feigned admiration, but a vulgar grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

He didn't take Shiomi's declaration of death seriously at all.

So what if the vanguard was repelled? Atrum was confident that not even a Lord of the Clock Tower could stop the elite Magus army he had so carefully prepared.

Unlike those willing to gamble their lives, Atrum favored clean, overwhelming victories.

He had already spoken with Lord Valualeta stationed here. The Lord had told him, "Do as you please," which gave Atrum the boldness to attack Valualeta with no restraint.

From the pocket of his immaculate suit, Atrum took out a small, flask-like object.

"You know what this is? This is a 'Primeval Battery.' A Magus with no lineage or connections like you wouldn't understand its history—or its value, would you?"