"Can you still move?"
"Hah… barely… but don't expect much out of me."
Breaking free of Jeanne's support, Lin Qi gritted his teeth and raised the magic sword Balmung.
"Let's go—together."
"…Alright."
Jeanne nodded, her expression heavy, and was the first to charge toward Martha, who stood quietly some distance away, watching them with unnerving calm.
Lin Qi followed behind her, his every step weighed down by pain and weakness.
Battles between Servants weren't anything like the "slow motion" duels seen in anime. Their exchanges happened in blinding bursts of speed, far beyond what the naked human eye could track.
Even the smallest lapse could decide the fight.
In this battle, that truth showed itself immediately.
Trailing Jeanne, Lin Qi's stride was already faltering—his form warped by the agony wracking his body.
No matter how hard he pushed, he simply couldn't keep up with her rhythm.
I can't catch up. I'm too slow…
Lin Qi's instincts told him what his reason already knew: the attack they'd tried to coordinate was doomed from the start.
But there was no time to stop or reset. Once the arrow had left the bow, there was no turning back.
So Lin Qi kept charging forward.
Martha watched them approach, motionless, until Jeanne's flag-lance thrust toward her. Only then did she raise her cross-shaped staff.
Clang!
With a harsh metallic note, Martha's staff swept Jeanne's weapon aside, knocking the lance high.
Lin Qi was still a step behind—if he had been just a little faster, he could've followed up with a decisive slash. Even if it didn't defeat Martha, it might at least have forced her back.
But there were no ifs.
Seeing her opening, Martha gathered mana into her fist and drove it mercilessly into Jeanne's abdomen.
"—gh!"
The impact sent Jeanne flying like a cannonball.
By the time Lin Qi reached them, she was already tumbling away. He swung Balmung down in desperation.
But Martha met his wild, clumsy strike with ease.
With a casual sweep of her staff, she knocked the blade aside, twirling the weapon almost playfully before slamming it down again.
Lin Qi barely had time to raise his sword in defense before he was blasted backward, his arms numb from the shock.
His grip trembled—Balmung nearly slipped from his fingers.
Martha regarded them with mild disappointment.
"So that's all? If this is the best you can manage, then this is where your story ends."
Behind her, Tarasque had already turned, fixing on the presence it hated most—Lin Qi, the one who carried Siegfried's Saint Graph.
Lin Qi could hardly move, let alone evade the monster's next charge.
All he could do was lift Balmung as a makeshift shield and stagger sideways, bracing for impact.
Tarasque's horn collided with the sword.
"Urgh—!"
The force coursed through the blade into Lin Qi's arms and chest, hurling him away with terrifying ease.
His vision blurred; his body screamed in pain. For a heartbeat, the world went dark.
When he came to, he was lying in a familiar pair of arms.
"You're not hurt, are you?"
Jeanne, dirt-streaked and breathless, looked down at him. Pain flickered behind her calm expression—Martha's punch had clearly left its mark.
"Cough… no, I blocked it. I'll live."
Thanks to Siegfried's Saint Graph, frail as he was, Lin Qi's endurance had increased—enough to keep him on his feet.
So much for focusing on Martha…
Even thinking it felt bitter. Martha's combat sense and strength were absurd. The two of them—one wounded, one human—could barely keep up, let alone win.
"Then there's no helping it," Jeanne said grimly. "You inherited Siegfried's Saint Graph—you're better suited to face Tarasque. Let's deal with the beast first, together."
It was the only move left.
Their pairing was a mess—a barely mobile Master and a battered Saint. Two against one might've been fine, but against Martha and her dragon? They were hopelessly outmatched.
And with the curse eating at him, Lin Qi could hardly even use his own abilities.
Tarasque charged again—this time with jaws open wide, fangs glinting.
Apparently, even the not-so-bright dragon had realized that headbutts weren't doing enough damage.
Lin Qi tried channeling mana into Balmung, aiming to release its Noble Phantasm.
The blue gem on the hilt began to glow—
Mana flow… too unstable. And—
Crack!
It wasn't an illusion. He could feel it—his Saint Graph groaning, fracturing under the strain.
Just like before, when he'd used Cú Chulainn's power—every surge of strength brought him one step closer to self-destruction.
After all, Lin Qi could accommodate a Saint Graph, not merge with it. Once inside him, it was a consumable flame.
And Siegfried's own Saint Graph had been incomplete to begin with.
Lin Qi stopped, sweat dripping down his forehead.
If he couldn't risk Balmung's true name release… then he'd have to rely on Siegfried's innate skills.
When it charges again—pull me aside at the right moment. I'll see if I can wound it.
Through the link between Master and Servant, he sent the thought to Jeanne.
"Got it!"
She wrapped an arm around his waist, her eyes locked on Tarasque as it barreled toward them.
Lin Qi tightened his grip on Balmung.
Innate Skill – Dragon Slayer, activate!
A barely perceptible pulse rippled from his body—an aura that made Tarasque falter, as though sensing its natural nemesis.
Lin Qi seized the instant, stepped forward, and slashed down.
Under the blessing of Dragon Slayer, Balmung cleaved through Tarasque's scales like paper, carving a deep, bloody gash.
"ROAAAR!!"
The beast shrieked, thrashing in fury. Its massive tail whipped out like a steel cable.
Jeanne reacted fast—but carrying Lin Qi slowed her. The tail clipped them, sending both staggering.
Lin Qi braced the sword between them, absorbing the worst of the blow.
They skidded back several paces before finally halting, breath ragged.
Across the clearing, Tarasque reared up again, its crimson eyes burning, jaws spreading wide as it gathered heat for a dragon's breath.
Maybe it was the nearness of death that made people calm—but both of them, suddenly, laughed.
"Feels like ever since we left Chaldea, we've either been fighting… or on our way to fight."
"Haha… can't argue with that."
Lin Qi smiled faintly, raising Balmung with both hands. He poured what remained of his strength into the blue gem.
Jeanne stepped forward beside him, raising her flag with solemn resolve.
The banner unfurled, golden light radiating from its fabric.
As if guided by the same thought, they moved in unison—ready to unleash their Noble Phantasms.
It was the only option left.
Retreat was impossible. Victory seemed unlikely. But so long as they lived, they would fight.
Even if it meant burning through Siegfried's remaining essence.
Then—
A flicker of color cut through the sky, drawing every gaze upward.
For a moment, the suffocating tension broke.
"What… a rose made of glass?"
Lin Qi blinked in confusion, realization dawning an instant later. His eyes lit up.
"No way—!"
"Ta-da! Making a fabulous entrance!"
A pink silhouette descended from the heavens astride a white horse seemingly sculpted of glass.
With a spectacular crash, she landed squarely atop Tarasque's head—forcing its jaws shut just as it unleashed its breath.
The explosion burst inward instead, muffled by its sealed maw.
Thud!
Before Martha or her dragon could react, a sharp, piercing sound wave rang out from the distance, making them both clutch at their ears.
"…Are we late?"
In the stunned silence, a Servant holding a conductor's baton and wearing flamboyant attire materialized, smiling at the two battered fighters.
"Not at all," Jeanne managed between gasps.
Lin Qi grinned weakly, relief washing through him.
"You're right on time."
...