A few minutes earlier, while Arthur was chasing Atalanta through the forest…
Achilles, the swiftest of all Greek warriors, dashed forward at full speed, spinning his spear with an almost inhuman lightness. His movements were so fast they seemed like blurs beneath the moonlight.
Before him stood Siegfried, the knight who bore the power of the dragon Fafnir, and Frankenstein, the tragic creature whose overwhelming strength resonated in every strike of her electrified mace.
And yet, Achilles smiled. A genuine, confident smile — perhaps even a little arrogant.
"Two against one? Hah! You should've brought at least five more if you really wanted to tire me out."
With a single step, he vanished. A heartbeat later, he reappeared behind Siegfried, the tip of his spear already aimed to pierce. The knight instinctively raised Balmung, blocking the strike in a metallic clash that echoed like thunder.
Too fast… Siegfried thought, feeling the impact vibrate through his arms.
But before Achilles could pull back, Frankenstein swung her mace down with brutal force, arcs of lightning flashing across the battlefield like storm-born wrath. The blow struck the ground with such violence that the earth cracked and trembled.
Achilles, however, leapt back with agile ease, laughing.
"Nice try, my dear! But if you're relying only on brute force, you won't even scratch me."
He wasn't wrong. The immortality covering his body — save for the cursed heel — denied any harm. Blades, flames, thunder, or crushing blows: nothing could pierce the divine blessing bestowed upon him.
Siegfried didn't allow himself to falter. He advanced once more, every strike of his sword guided by the calm resolve of a warrior who had already sacrificed himself once for humanity.
Frankenstein followed with an enraged growl. Her mace spun in sweeping arcs, discharging violent sparks that forced Achilles to move even faster.
Achilles laughed.
"You two are strong! Truly! But still too slow. Do you know what sets us apart?"
In an instant, he vanished from their sight. A gust of wind marked his path. By the time they noticed, Achilles was already behind Frankenstein, his spear grazing dangerously close to her throat.
"…It's that I was born to run free."
But Frankenstein roared. A surge of electricity exploded from her body, repelling Achilles in a blinding flash. He spun in midair, landed on his feet, and whistled.
"Hah! That stung… If I weren't immortal, I might've lost my head just now. Good reflex, girl."
{Saber, what are you doing!? Use your Noble Phantasm!}
Gordes' voice thundered inside Siegfried's mind, filled with desperation and fury. The German knight, however, stood motionless, eyes locked on the enemy before him.
He could, indeed, unleash the power of his Noble Phantasm. Balmung pulsed in his grip, eager to be released. And yet, doubt gnawed at him: would that power be enough to overcome the Greek hero's defense?
The hesitation enraged his Master.
{By this Command Seal… I order you to use your Noble Phantasm!}
The sigil burned bright red on Gordes' hand, searing Siegfried's very soul like molten iron. His body was forced to obey, despite his will. Reluctantly, he raised the blade.
Balmung began to radiate an intense azure glow, as though the night itself feared its brilliance. The air crackled with condensed magical energy.
But Siegfried resisted. He knew that revealing his true strength without first discovering his opponent's weakness was reckless. Achilles' defense was not trivial. If he failed, not only would his trump card be wasted, but his true identity would be exposed.
Grinding his teeth, Siegfried strained every muscle against the crushing weight of the order. His body trembled, not from lack of power, but from the inner conflict between obedience and conviction.
Then the Greek hero spoke.
Achilles narrowed his eyes, lips curling into a smile of pure excitement.
"Oh… so you're finally going to unleash your Noble Phantasm? Took you long enough!"
But he didn't retreat. Instead, he planted his spear into the ground and raised his voice in challenge:
"If you want to play seriously, I can answer in kind."
The confidence radiating from his expression shattered whatever hope Siegfried still clung to. There was no fear in the Rider's crimson eyes — only the wild joy of a warrior awaiting a worthy fight.
{By this Command Seal… I order you to cancel the release of your Noble Phantasm!}
Now gripped by panic, Gordes was forced to burn another seal. The magical chains compelling Siegfried to act were broken. The Saber staggered back, Balmung's glow fading as he collapsed to his knees, drenched in sweat, chest heaving.
Achilles burst into roaring laughter.
"Hahaha! What a waste! Your Master is a fool. He spent two Command Seals for nothing!"
But fate had its own answer.
FTHUMP!
An arrow sliced through the air and pierced his shoulder, drawing an expression of surprise from the Greek hero.
"What!?"
Yet instead of rage, a shiver of ecstasy coursed through him. His eyes gleamed, not with anger, but with exhilaration.
Achilles trembled, not from shame or pain, but from sheer joy.
"Magnificent…!"
For the first time since the war began, he had been wounded.
The whistle of more arrows followed, cutting the air like rolling thunder. Escaping would have been easy — all he had to do was retreat. But his warrior's instincts told him: his movements had already been predicted.
The arrows struck, piercing flesh and muscle. Achilles didn't scream in pain — only laughed wildly, his voice echoing through the forest.
"Black Archer… you are formidable!" he cried, his tone brimming with passion. "You can kill me! That means we are destined to fight! May the gods of Olympus grant us glory and honor in battle!"
Even wounded, he charged against the rain of projectiles. Each step resounded with courage and defiance. But the Black Archer's precision was merciless: one arrow sank into his knee, forcing him to stumble.
The searing pain only fueled his spirit further.
"Hahaha! Excellent!!"
Then, in the midst of the chaos, a blue radiance streaked across the heavens.
The clouds split open, and suddenly, a storm of arrows rained down, as though the very firmament itself was collapsing upon the earth.
Achilles' eyes widened.
"That is…!"
He immediately recognized Atalanta's Noble Phantasm. But something was wrong. The huntress would never unleash such desperation on her own.
"She's been cornered to this point?" he muttered, clenching his fists.
Without a moment's hesitation, he pressed two fingers to his lips and whistled sharply. The sound reverberated through the skies like a divine summons.
In response, a golden chariot descended from the heavens, pulled by three mighty steeds that neighed like thunder.
Achilles leapt into the driver's seat, gripping the reins tightly.
"Black Archer! Next time we fight, I want to see your face!"
With that, he cracked the reins. The chariot surged forward, breaking the sound barrier within moments. The wind roared around him, but Achilles' heart beat only with the urgency to save his ally.
He arrived quickly — but not quickly enough.
Before his eyes, Arthur was about to drive his hand straight through Atalanta's stomach.
Without hesitation, Achilles unleashed his voice in a thunderous roar:
"Akhilleus Kosmos!!"
---
(End of Chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."