Rip—!
As Shirou inhaled the white mist, a sickening sensation surged within him, as if his body was corroding from the inside out.
He could hear a sizzling sound, like acid slowly dissolving his lungs. Every breath brought him unimaginable pain.
It felt as though he'd inhaled a fog of concentrated industrial acid.
His lungs were not the only things affected—his skin began to melt, peeling and bubbling painfully.
I can't last long like this. At this rate… I'll die right here.
When this strange white mist first appeared, both Shirou and Arthur had assumed it was simply a magecraft meant to obscure visibility—something akin to a smoke bomb. It shouldn't have had such devastating effects on the human body.
After all, their mission tonight was merely to escort Assassin of Black safely back to Yggdmillennia Castle. Assassin was an ally, not an enemy.
As for Mordred, who had also appeared nearby, Shirou trusted that as one of the Knights of the Round Table—as Arthur's own "son"—she wouldn't resort to underhanded tricks like this, especially not against them.
In fact, Shirou hadn't completely let down his guard. Although he saw no need to wander the streets fully armored in [Incursio], he'd still projected it ahead of time, carrying it with him in sword form to swiftly equip should an emergency arise.
Now was exactly such a time.
"[Incursio]!"
In the blink of an eye, the armor materialized, instantly isolating Shirou from the deadly fog.
Now half-kneeling on the ground, he gasped greedily for air, finally able to breathe again.
Only then did Shirou notice the chaotic battle occurring behind him.
Up until this moment, his entire attention had been devoted solely to surviving, completely unaware of how drastically the situation around him had deteriorated.
"Oppressor! Oppressor! You who wield power's blade, trampling the weak beneath your feet!"
A wild, shrill roar echoed from Arthur's position.
An enormous, muscular giant wrapped in heavy chains swung a massive sword wildly in front of Arthur. His movements lacked logic or technique, attacking purely for the sake of attacking, like a child carelessly swinging around an oversized toy.
Each reckless swing generated gusts of wind, striking at Arthur relentlessly.
BOOM—!
With a heavy collision, Arthur blocked the attack, crossing his invisible blade protectively before him. Yet the sheer force sent him skidding backward, his feet digging deep grooves into the ground.
Under normal circumstances, Arthur shouldn't have struggled so much against such an obviously clumsy foe. His skill was enough to suppress Achilles' legendary speed; defeating this brute should have been effortless.
But Shirou realized the reason a heartbeat later—
An icy chill brushed against his neck, followed by a flash of crimson light suddenly appearing before his eyes.
A young girl with snow-white hair materialized silently from the mist.
Clang—!
An invisible sword intercepted her strike mid-air, producing a crisp metallic ring.
"You're really annoying, Mr. Knight!" The white-haired girl pouted childishly, yet her innocent smile twisted unnaturally. "Always getting in my way… If I don't kill him, I'll never get to save Mama!"
Anyone seeing her childish expression would naturally feel compassion, yet the intense stench of blood that clung to her clothing made Shirou's pupils constrict sharply.
In an instant, he projected a katana into his hand.
Just how many lives had she taken to soak her clothes entirely in blood?
No wonder there hadn't been a single soul or sign of life on these night-time streets.
Earlier, Shirou had assumed Darnic had quietly persuaded the residents of Trifas to stay home—but clearly, reality was far grimmer.
The residents here are probably already…
In the center of Trifas, although people mostly stayed indoors, their houses still shone with lights at night. Here, however, darkness and silence reigned absolute.
Arthur fought against the berserk giant, but he couldn't focus solely on that enemy. He had to simultaneously protect Shirou from this lethal assassin.
Unlike Rider, who preferred heroic battles, Assassin would surely prioritize killing the Master first—it was the fastest way to eliminate Arthur from the field.
The white-haired girl swiftly melted into the mist again. Despite his combat experience, Shirou couldn't sense her presence at all.
Back in the Empire, he had trained extensively against surprise attacks. Even blindfolded, he could sense an incoming threat and counterattack instantly.
But this time, if not for Arthur's timely intervention, Shirou wouldn't have noticed the white-haired girl's blade until his head was already severed from his body.
Is this what an Assassin-class Servant is capable of?
Shirou tightly gripped the katana he'd projected—[Murasame]—vigilantly scanning the fog around him. Even facing the Holy Grail War's supposedly weakest class, Assassin, he mustn't lower his guard.
I've grown arrogant after defeating Red's Archer, Shirou admonished himself harshly.
He'd learned from Darnic initially that Assassin was considered the weakest Servant class—knowledge that, under normal circumstances, held true. But even the weakest Servant easily surpassed ordinary magi.
However, in this thick, poisonous fog, Assassin wasn't the only dangerous enemy present.
Ahead of Arthur, the chained giant's face twisted into a grotesque smile.
"Oppressor! It's time to crush that pride of yours! Hahahahaha!"