Shinji Matou At Your Service

Chapter 439: The Converging Storm in Sighişoara



Chapter 439: The Converging Storm in Sighişoara

Unlike the thrilling battle between Fiore and Kairi, or the intense clash between Shinji and Mordred, the fight between Artoria and Chiron seemed more like a divine duel, devoid of any trace of mortal smoke and fire, yet containing an indescribable beauty.

Both participants had surpassed human limits, elevating their skills and even their very existence to the divine realm. Each move, each action, was devoid of any excess, perfectly utilizing every ounce of potential within their bodies.

This was not merely a unity of heart, technique, and body, but a realm beyond that—a complete fusion, the ultimate state every martial artist aspires to reach.

For an ordinary martial artist, reaching this level in their lifetime would be a source of immense satisfaction. Yet, these two stood at the pinnacle of this state.

In Chiron's hands, the bow and arrows were no longer mere weapons but extensions of his body, manifestations of his will. Where his heart aimed, the arrows followed. Obstacles that would hinder others were nonexistent to him—he could shoot through them, change the arrows' trajectory by colliding them mid-air, or use the magical energy attached to his arrows to create invisible damage by shaking the atmosphere.

Chiron's arrows could achieve anything imaginable.

Artoria was equally formidable. In her hands, the sword and lance seemed imbued with life. Ordinary warriors might consciously direct their weapons to perform specific actions, but Artoria's weapons naturally found their ideal positions, either to protect their master or to strike down her enemies.

This is the state where skill approaches the true path.

One acted on pure will, the other with natural grace, and with one being an archer, their battle was destined not to be as straightforward as those of other servants. On the other side, Kairi and Fiore fought to a tragic conclusion, potentially resulting in mutual destruction. Meanwhile, Artoria had finally discerned Chiron's true nature.

With no holds barred and Chiron executing his full power, even Artoria, with her divine-level skills, found it challenging to close the distance between them.

Moreover, as Artoria moved, Chiron would not remain stationary. Chiron's agility, ranked at the highest level of "A+" in this Holy Grail War, coupled with his lack of heavy armor like Artoria's, naturally gave him a speed advantage. If not for the urban environment providing various covers and if not for Artoria using "Invisible Air" and occasionally unleashing "Mana Burst" to accelerate, even her exceptional skills would have only led to one outcome—being kited to death by Chiron.

As for summoning her steed, Dun Stallion, Artoria quickly dismissed the idea.

While Dun Stallion was faster than Chiron, it also made the rider a larger target. Dun, not being a Noble Phantasm, couldn't withstand an arrow from a servant. Against weaker archers, Artoria had confidence in protecting her steed, but against Chiron, she had none.

Rather than summoning her steed and risking it getting injured, it was better to use the city's complex terrain to maneuver against the enemy.

By the time Artoria saw Chiron's face, he had moved from the tallest clock tower in the city to the outer city's walls. He still maintained his high vantage point, bow and arrow at the ready.

He was a handsome man clad in leather armor, with eyes glowing faintly green, sharper than a hawk's. His aura was vast and majestic, perfectly embodying the archer class. Unlike Gilgamesh, who was merely labeled an archer for throwing treasures, Chiron was a true master of the bow, having reached the pinnacle of archery.

To such a formidable opponent, Artoria raised her lance in a knightly salute. Acknowledging her gesture, Chiron smiled slightly.

The battle with Artoria rekindled his fighting spirit, allowing him to feel the joy of combat once more.

How long had it been since he faced such a strong opponent, in life or death? When was the last time he shot arrows so freely?

It had been too long to remember. All Chiron knew was that this opponent allowed him to exercise all he had learned without reservation.

He had thought he would only feel this way when facing Achilles, but here you are, Black Lancer. Surely, in the long history of humanity, you are among the finest spearmen. In that case, let me see which is stronger—my bow or your lance!

With an oddly cheerful feeling, Chiron released his fingers from the bowstring, and the arrow, brimming with magic, emitted a piercing whistle. This was Chiron's return gift to Artoria, a gesture of respect between strong warriors, signifying Chiron's recognition of Artoria.

"Father Cronus, Mother Philyra, this enemy is worthy of a fight."

This open and unreserved shot did not escape Artoria's keen eyes. Facing the return gift from a formidable enemy, the Rhongomyniad naturally leaped into action—

The speed of the arrow was fully understood.

The time of arrival could be calculated.

The coordinates of arrival could be deduced.

The spear tip, glowing with the light of human reason, collided head-on with the arrow's blade, creating the largest surge of magical energy that night.

Combining experience and "instinct," she and her spear and sword either dodged or blocked, neutralizing Chiron's hundreds of shots in this manner.

Emerald eyes looked through the slits of her helmet, meeting Chiron's sharp gaze.

To Artoria's surprise, those eyes, deeper than the night sky, revealed an inexplicable hint of a smile, as if saying—"Watch out."

At that moment, a sudden sense of foreboding and dread surged in Artoria's heart.

Not good!

Artoria's body instantly leaned back, her divine-level skill ensuring a reaction that was undoubtedly godlike.

At the same time, a nearly silent arrow pierced through the yet-to-dissipate magical surge, targeting the only exposed part of Artoria's helmet—her eyes.

Fortunately, Artoria had dodged just in time; otherwise, she would have lost an eye at best or been killed at worst. Now, this silent arrow embedded itself in the brow of her lion-shaped helmet.

The magic contained within the arrow lingered, like a bolt of lightning, coursing through the helmet's faceplate.

With a "crack," a fissure appeared in the center of the faceplate.

The crack swiftly spread, fracturing the entire helmet, which soon fell apart, revealing a breathtakingly beautiful face.


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