Fate: How About a New Savior?

"The northern and southern armies have begun engaging the Celtic forces! The northern army's left flank and central units are breaking through the enemy lines one after another!"

"The southern army's doing great too! The sabotage planned in advance by Robin Hood and the others has weakened the enemy! It won't take long before we can push the front line even further!"

Chaldea's battle reports kept streaming in through the communicator on Shiomi's wrist. Glancing down at it, Shiomi then turned to look at Diarmuid, who was panting heavily before him.

They had fought their way up a nearby hill. Below them was a battlefield turned into a slaughterhouse, where the Celtic forces clashed fiercely with the American troops.

Shiomi switched off the communicator and looked at the worn-out Diarmuid. "You heard it. The northern army and central forces are breaking through. Our side…"

He swept his eyes across the battlefield, then casually spun his crimson spear, knocking down a charging Celtic warrior aiming for him.

Unlike the disorganized Celtic troops, the American mechanical soldiers and infantry strictly followed Shiomi's orders. None charged over recklessly to assist—they focused solely on holding off the advancing Celtic warriors.

"The difference between soldiers is marginal, but when that's the case, it's the number and prowess of warriors that determine the outcome."

Diarmuid's breathing had calmed. He raised his red sword and pointed it at Shiomi. "Your twin spears have long surpassed mortal technique, reaching divine levels… Yet back then, you had to fight me using unfamiliar weapons."

In their second clash, Diarmuid had only a single blow left in him. The more he recalled the record he carried into this Singularity, the more he regretted it bitterly.

But now, Shiomi was fighting at full strength, forcing Diarmuid into a corner.

The twin crimson spears had a longer reach than Diarmuid's dual swords. While trying to close the distance, he had to remain constantly on guard—not to let even a graze from those spears touch him.

After all, the curse embedded in those spears rivaled that of the Yellow Rose of Death. Diarmuid knew this all too well.

Worse still, Shiomi's spear techniques were vicious and deceptive—feints turned into real strikes, real strikes disguised as feints.

His intentions flowed seamlessly through his hands, with no pause or break in rhythm.

Diarmuid knew better than to keep trying to read his moves.

The twin spears and twin swords clashed once more.

"Why would a Heroic Spirit like you serve someone like the Mad King or Medb?" Shiomi pressed down on Diarmuid's blades with his spears. "Fighting for the side that seeks to destroy human history—doesn't that taint your chivalry?"

"Because we lost. Both my lord and I were defeated by His Highness, the Child of Light. After that, we had no choice but to drink Queen Medb's mead." Diarmuid gave a strained smile. "I'm already a defeated general—there's no honor in surrendering only to betray again."

With those words, he clenched his teeth, pushed Shiomi back, and launched himself into the air—leaping far beyond the normal limits of a materialized Servant.

Mana Burst (Jump).

Raised by the gods, Diarmuid only gained access to this ability when manifesting as a Saber to compensate for the altered attributes of that class.

The towering leap gave him incredible acceleration. His twin-sword strike came down with overwhelming force—entirely at odds with his refined, handsome appearance.

With that Mana Burst, even Shiomi had to resort to Rune Magecraft to conjure a shield. Taking that blow head-on was not an option.

"So you're going to keep fighting for the Mad King and Medb until death, is that it?"

Realizing Diarmuid couldn't be swayed, Shiomi only confirmed it calmly.

Then, from a distance, Fionn—caught off guard—was struck by a brutal sweep kick from Scáthach. He was sent flying midair and crash-landed near Shiomi and Diarmuid's battlefield. The impact knocked over more than a dozen Celtic warriors scrambling up the slope.

"Give it up, my dear disciple. Those two won't change their minds. Knights have their pride. Even if they understand the cause of preserving human history, they won't waver." Scáthach landed beside Shiomi.

Amidst the smoke, Fionn got back on his feet, looking a bit disheveled.

"My lord, are you alright?" Diarmuid asked, concern in his voice.

Fionn wiped the blood from his face, gave his spear a firm shake, and stood tall with fierce determination. "I can still fight! The real question is—can you keep up with me, boy?!"

"Of course! The swordsmanship of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, first spear of the Knights of Fionn, hasn't even been fully unleashed yet!" Diarmuid replied with renewed fighting spirit.

Fionn grinned at that. Bubbles began forming around him, then suddenly fired out like cannonballs.

"Eiwaz!"

As they launched, Shiomi quickly chanted the rune as well. The water projectiles instantly slowed, then stopped altogether before reaching him and Scáthach, vanishing harmlessly.

Scáthach didn't praise his timely counter. Diarmuid had already seized the moment to leap again, twin swords raised high for a downward strike. She looked up coolly, blocked it with the crimson spear in her right hand, then immediately thrust with the one in her left. Diarmuid dodged with everything he had, but still took a cut to his left arm.

The wound wouldn't heal quickly, but it wasn't debilitating either.

"Not bad. That last strike should've gone straight through your throat." Scáthach held one spear at her side and pointed the other at the pair. "But next, you and your master will be facing us—master and disciple. Be ready."

Fionn chuckled. "The Queen of the Land of Shadows and her dear apprentice... If I were Lord Cú Chulainn, I'd be drowning in envy right now."

"That man would never think something like that," Scáthach replied with a shake of her head, as if she'd just heard a bad joke.

"But Diarmuid here is also a man who's spent his whole life chasing love! His passion's no less than yours!" Fionn suddenly changed the subject.

On a battlefield where life and death hung in the balance, he still found time for banter.

"This has nothing to do with the fight, my lord!" Diarmuid couldn't help but respond, his tone strained—though his reaction made it clear he was well accustomed to Fionn's antics.

"I have to disagree, Lord of the Knights of Fionn. The two of you are alone on the battlefield. Where's the space for love in that?" Scáthach actually joined in the conversation.

Just as Shiomi was about to remind his master not to get distracted, Scáthach suddenly planted her left-hand spear into the ground, grabbed his shoulders, and kissed him—right there in the middle of the battlefield, without warning or hesitation.

"Hahahaha! Just what I'd expect from the Queen of the Land of the Dead! Delightful!" Fionn paused, then burst out laughing, only for his smile to shift into something sharp and dangerous. "With opponents like you two, even if we stand as enemies of humanity, I can't help but enjoy this fight!"

Shiomi, having been kissed by his master out of nowhere, felt more embarrassed than anything. The battlefield was crawling with enemies—if he let his guard down, like now—

He spun his spear again, taking out a Celtic warrior trying to sneak up from behind. Wiping his lips with his sleeve, he charged straight toward Fionn and Diarmuid.

...

(100 Chapters Ahead)

p@treon com / PinkSnake