"Still hiding your weapon behind that wind of yours, Saber?" Lancer pointed his spear at her, voice loud and mocking.
Saber didn't answer.
"So it really is tied to your identity, huh? In that case, I won't be holding back!"
Before the words even finished, Lancer vanished—like a red flash of lightning—and appeared right in front of Saber with terrifying speed.
"What?!" Saber barely managed to raise her sword in time to block.
But this clash was different. A burst of golden light flared between them—not just sparks. That was the glow of a Noble Phantasm.
"That light…"
Saber shoved Lancer back and quickly reactivated Invisible Air, hiding her sword once again.
"I'll find out what that weapon of yours really is," Lancer smirked, already closing the distance again.
Saber didn't flinch. Gripping her sword tight, she charged forward to meet him head-on.
Red and gold clashed, sparks flying as violent winds exploded around them. Every time their weapons met, golden light leaked through Saber's sword. Lancer's relentless attacks were peeling away her concealment layer by layer.
He couldn't see the exact form yet, but the length? He had already figured that out.
Another close exchange. This time, it wasn't even. Saber let go with one hand and pressed it to her waist.
Red. Blood.
She was hurt.
"Saber!" Irisviel's voice rang out in panic.
Shichen's brows furrowed. His cold gaze fixed on Lancer.
"Hm?" Lancer noticed the glare and just smiled casually.
Shichen looked away. If Saber hadn't insisted on proving herself, Lancer would've already been dealt with. But Saber's chivalry wouldn't let him step in.
Too damn stubborn.
If he were Emiya Kiritsugu, he'd never let her act like this. Winning would come first, not pride.
Irisviel hurried over and cast a healing spell. The wound sealed, but blood still stained Saber's armor.
"Thank you, Iri," Saber nodded gratefully.
"Saber, be careful. That spear—it cuts through magic."
"I know." She gave a firm nod.
Her armor was formed from magical energy—Lancer's spear sliced through it like butter.
"She's right, you know. That armor's basically useless now," Lancer laughed.
"Then I won't wear it anymore." Saber removed her armor in one motion, standing in only her blue battle dress.
"Oh? Turning a weakness into an advantage. I respect that."
Without armor, her speed increased dramatically. And honestly, the armor wasn't doing much anymore anyway.
"Lancer, I'm going all out this time!"
She dashed forward—and this time, the wind around her blade vanished.
Her true weapon was revealed.
Golden light blazed from the radiant sword in her hands—Excalibur.
"Now that's a surprise…"
Lancer chuckled. He recognized the sword. And with that, Saber's identity was no longer a mystery.
"Saber, I'm sorry."
He suddenly kicked a golden spear up from the ground—his second Noble Phantasm.
"What?! Two weapons?!" Saber's eyes widened but didn't stop.
Lancer met her head-on with dual spears. In an instant, gold and red collided again. Lancer twisted midair, narrowly avoiding her strike—and the golden spear slashed across her left wrist.
They broke apart.
Saber turned back around, expression sharp—but her left hand was trembling. The tendons in her wrist had been severed.
She couldn't hold her sword properly with that hand anymore.
Lancer landed smoothly. The scratch on his arm had already healed.
"Iri, heal me," Saber called.
"No good," Irisviel shook her head. "That wound… can't be healed with normal magic."
"What?" Saber froze, staring at Lancer's yellow spear. Then she understood.
"The red spear severs magic. The yellow one… delivers irreversible curses. The twin spears of the warrior known as the 'Radiant Face'—Diarmuid Ua Duibhne of the Celtic Fianna."
"That's the beauty of the Grail War. I get to fight the legendary King Arthur—and even managed to get the upper hand once or twice," Lancer said smugly.
"I lost that round… Let's go again!" Saber yelled, rearming herself with armor through magic.
Compared to the red spear, the yellow one was far more dangerous. Her arm was nearly out of commission, and her stamina had dropped.
She probably couldn't beat Lancer now.
But Saber didn't care.
Even one-handed—she would fight.
What she couldn't do now was prove herself.
She glanced toward Shichen, and sure enough—his face was cold. He was definitely disappointed.
"Saber, can you still fight?" Lancer asked.
"Of course I can!"
"As expected of you. Let's go, then—"
"The hell you are!"
Suddenly, Shichen appeared in front of Saber and smacked her on the head.
"Eh?" Saber blinked at him in confusion.
"You seriously plan to keep fighting like this? What if you get hurt worse?" His tone was dead serious.
"It's just a scratch…" Saber's voice was small now.
"A scratch?! You couldn't win at full strength, and now you think you can like this?" Another smack.
"I…" Saber wanted to argue but had nothing to say. She just looked down, biting her lip.
"Let me see your hand." Without asking, Shichen took her hand.
"Wait! Lancer's still right there—be careful—"
"He's not a threat to me."
"Heh… getting underestimated again. Whatever," Lancer muttered. Even now, he didn't attack—he respected the man.
"Take off your armor," Shichen said, tone like a command.
"…Okay."
Saber obeyed without hesitation, removing her glove to reveal a pale, delicate hand—slick with blood.
Shichen followed the trail of blood to her wrist and saw the jagged wound. His brows creased. Such a graceful hand, ruined like this…
He really shouldn't have let her do this alone.
"Saber, that kind of wound can't be healed," she whispered.
"Does it hurt?" he asked.
"No," she shook her head, confused.
She was a Servant. King Arthur. This level of pain was nothing.
"Don't lie to me!" Shichen smacked her again.
"Shichen—"
"Quiet."
He started chanting.
"Heal."
Green light wrapped around her hand. The blood faded… but the wound remained.
"Told you… it doesn't work—"
"That's for them." He raised his hand again. "Sacred Exorcism."
Holy light engulfed her wrist—and just like that, the cursed wound vanished.
"What?!" Saber stared in shock. She moved her fingers. Her hand was fully healed.
"No way…" Lancer's voice trembled.
The yellow spear's curse had been broken. That… shouldn't be possible.
Who was this guy?
"Shichen… you…" Saber stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time.
"Impressed now?" he grinned, messing up her hair—including that signature ahoge.
"I…" Saber didn't even care about the head pat. She was still stunned.
She knew—without killing Lancer or destroying the spear, this curse couldn't be undone.
So how did Shichen do it?
He didn't bother explaining. Saber just needed to know that he could.
After all, "incurable curse" or not, it was still just a curse—and his Sacred Exorcism came straight from Aqua, the goddess of water.
If a goddess couldn't break a curse, who could?
"Hehe~ See? Told you Shichen's amazing," Irisviel joined them proudly.
"Yeah… amazing…" Saber murmured.
"Hey, Master—what are you, really?" Lancer finally couldn't hold back.
He had to ask. If Shichen could undo his cursed spear, then his biggest advantage was gone.
"Me?" Shichen looked over calmly. "Just a passing Master."
"…What?"
"Lancer," he muttered, voice suddenly colder. "You hurt Saber. And now, I'm mad. I'm not letting her act recklessly anymore."
"You…"
"Are you ready to pay the price?"
The Command Seals on Shichen's hand lit up—glowing brilliantly.
A silver longsword materialized in his hand.
And then—
He disappeared.
"What the—?!" Lancer's eyes widened.