บท 77: Chapter 2. The Hero Descends
I Will Eventually Embark on the Path of No Return Called a Hero [Arc2] - 2. The Hero Descends
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You are about to die soon.
So annoying, I won't die, I haven't...
Don't be stubborn, you're already falling apart, aren't you? Your heart just stopped beating a moment ago.
...
Then make a contract with me and become a guardian. You can survive, leave this place, and go anywhere, as long as...
That's impossible.
But you're about to die!
Then come back when I am dead.
...
"You can't say anything, can you? Trying to deceive me?" Cyd opened his eyes and stood up in a flash. His heart began to beat strongly, and the ribs piercing through his skin were pulled back by the force of his muscles. The hole in his chest started to heal rapidly.
[Cut, it didn't work.]
"Of course, it didn't," Cyd swung his arm, "I have a..."
Cyd bent down, picked up the [Reforged Pandora], and slung it over his back, a smile curling on his lips.
"A good teacher."
[But you still can't leave here. If you become a guardian, we can find a way to pull you out of this place.]
"Oh~ you want me to work for you?" Cyd sneered, looking around. "Though there's no distinction between day and night here, it's still better not to dream. I have many things left to do and many people I haven't seen."
[But you have no way out now.]
"Who knows," Cyd twisted his neck, "but I definitely won't sign that damned contract with you."
[Then... let's make a deal. Forget the contract for now. We need you to descend as an arbitrator in a Holy Grail War. After it's over, you can use the Holy Grail to try breaking through this place.]
"Oh~ I'm not dead yet," Cyd raised an eyebrow.
[But you don't exist in any timeline right now, which is practically the same as being dead. Just think of it as a workaround.]
"Why does it have to be me?" Cyd sneered.
[The Holy Grail summoned Joan of Arc as an arbitrator for the war, but the outcome wasn't what we expected.]
"Then just stop the Grail from summoning her. Like, summon Sherlock Holmes instead."
[Unfortunately, Sherlock Holmes declined, saying, 'I deduced the mastermind in nine seconds, but I can't handle them alone. Unless you send Watson with me, I won't consider it.' Another potential arbitrator could single-handedly handle the war, but summoning him might result in him taking the Grail and causing chaos. Another candidate is also a saint...]
"I get it. You don't have anyone else available, so you came to me," Cyd snapped his fingers.
[Of course, it would be better if you signed the contract.]
"That's impossible," Cyd's resolve was unwavering.
[Alright, we will have you descend in spirit form since we already sent Joan of Arc down. You won't have extra Command Spells, but you probably won't need them...]
"…Then what are my abilities as an arbitrator?"
[Directly supplied with mana from the Greater Grail, you can go all out. Is that enough?]
"Ah~ If possible, I'd prefer not to use my fists to make them stop," Cyd scratched his head, "but using fists might make them more obedient."
[Alright then, even though it's not your physical body, it's been a while since you could return to that world. Aren't you moved enough to consider signing a contract?]
"Not happening."
A seven-on-seven, unprecedented Holy Grail War began.
The Yggdmillennia Clan.
On the throne, Vlad III smiled at the three kneeling Servants before him.
Rider—Astolfo, one of the Twelve Paladins of Charlemagne.
Berserker—Frankenstein's Monster.
Saber—a white-haired youth who was prohibited by his master from speaking but looked extremely strong.
"In this Holy Grail War, we shall be victorious," Vlad III laughed.
Beside him, Chiron tilted his head, gazing into the distance through the window.
"What's wrong, Archer?" Vlad III looked at the distracted Chiron.
"I feel a few familiar presences have arrived," Chiron smiled apologetically, "Probably my students."
This wasn't an exaggeration, as most famous heroes in Greece were his students.
"You won't hold back, will you?"
"Of course not. I have a wish I must fulfill," Chiron shook his head.
"I look forward to our battle," Vlad III nodded.
Only the unknown swordsman and Chiron were qualified to fight him.
The Church.
"Everyone has arrived," the dark-skinned, white-haired priest said with a gentle smile, looking at the empty church.
"Only Saber is left," a woman in luxurious black attire appeared behind the priest, holding a goblet between her slender fingers, "Master, would you like to taste the poison I prepared?"
"I'd be honored to drink it after the Holy Grail War," the priest declined with a smile.
"If you drink it, Father, you will die immediately," a green-haired young man with a scarf around his neck leaned against a pillar, laughing, ignoring the woman's murderous glare, "She's that kind of woman, right, big sister?"
"I am not your sister," the heroic female hunter crossed her arms beside him, her cat ears twitching with her annoyance.
"Lancer, what do you think?" the young man laughed, looking towards the shadows.
"No comment," the white-haired youth in golden armor stepped out slowly, "But it's best not to drink it."
The woman's head filled with anger veins, "I might as well kill you all now."
"Don't be angry, Assassin, we're allies now," the priest stopped her hand, ready to hurl the goblet.
"Hmph," Assassin snorted and vanished.
"She's such a bad woman, right, big sister!"
"I am not your sister!"
Atalanta was furious. For some reason, Achilles kept calling her big sister.
"By the way, Archer, where is your Master?" The priest was curious. The only ones not knocked out were Saber's Master and Archer's Master.
"Her? She's sulking because she summoned me, so she went out to find the last Master."
Strangely, being resented by her Master didn't seem to bother Atalanta. Instead of feeling slighted, she seemed... pleased? Happy her Master summoned the wrong Servant.
"Well, don't worry about it, big sister's business isn't yours," Achilles stood protectively in front of Atalanta, despite her displeasure.
"Yeah, I'm just concerned as a teammate. Also, I must mention something…" The priest's face turned serious, "There are two Rulers this time."
"So what?" Achilles sneered.
"We must eliminate them; otherwise, they'll be too much of a threat. If a Ruler desires the Grail, they'll be a huge problem for us, especially with two Command Spells per Servant."
"Only Servants without wishes can become Rulers," Lancer said.
"But Servants are also human. We can't rule out the possibility of a Ruler wanting the Grail," the priest seemed certain.
"I have no objections," Lancer closed his eyes.
"There are two Rulers, one to the east and one to the west. Who's going where?" the priest asked the three Servants.
"Achilles, go to the western one, now," Atalanta said suddenly.
"Sure thing, big sister. I'll smash the Ruler and bring them back," Achilles grinned and left with his spear.
"Don't bother with the eastern one," Atalanta's fingers drummed on her arm, "That's not a foe any of us can handle."
"Why? Archer, in mythology, you have no reconnaissance skills. What gives you such confidence?" the priest squinted.
"I have a tracking skill that activates for one person. Now it's going crazy, indicating he's here," Atalanta smirked at the priest's frozen expression.
"He's back, the Hero of Pure White, the hope of humanity."
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