"Is that Red's Berserker?"
Accompanied by the thunderous rumble of his steps, the giant—his corpse-like skin mottled in eerie shades of blue and white—rushed toward Arthur, roaring madly as he swung an enormous sword, his face twisted into a crazed smile.
It was as though battle itself brought him unparalleled joy.
Bang—!
A fierce shockwave erupted from Arthur's direction, whipping past Shirou with enough force to buffet his helmet violently. The gust briefly dispersed the dense fog around them, creating a fleeting clearing before the mist rapidly closed in once more.
"It can only be Red's Berserker," Arthur replied calmly, deflecting the furious strikes with ease while remaining alert to their surroundings. "None of Black's remaining unknown Servants would fight so recklessly."
To Arthur, Berserker's attacks were extraordinarily crude, simple brute force that could be effortlessly countered. Compared to the intensity of his previous clash with Achilles—or even Mordred's disciplined yet aggressive style—this opponent's wild swings were childishly predictable.
"Is this a trap?" Shirou pondered. The unnatural fog, Berserker's sudden appearance—everything felt far too coincidental.
But in truth, it really was coincidence. Berserker had sensed Arthur's aura beneath the Church, and ignoring every attempt to restrain him, he had stormed directly toward Yggdmillennia's stronghold. Only Arthur's sudden departure from the castle had led Berserker here, straight to the outskirts of Trifas.
Meanwhile, the Black Faction rushed urgently toward their position. But the corrosive mist filling the area blocked their familiars entirely, preventing any information from reaching Shirou and Arthur.
"Hahahaha! Oppressor! Arrogant oppressor! Even in battle, you refuse to acknowledge our existence, refuse even to look at us properly! What humiliation! What arrogance—!"
Berserker bellowed wildly, stepping forward recklessly without regard for whether Arthur's blade might pierce or slash through him, intent solely on overwhelming his foe.
Ignoring the invisible sword's slash, his massive form surged forward, undaunted.
Squelch—!
A wet, gruesome sound rang out clearly. Arthur's invisible blade pierced accurately through Berserker's heart, yet Arthur's instincts screamed a warning.
"Hahaha! Oppressor, your arrogance knows no bounds—!!"
Utterly unconcerned by the wound, Berserker lifted his massive sword, brutally aiming to cleave Arthur's head from his shoulders.
Arthur attempted to withdraw his sword, only to find it lodged deeply, as though caught within Berserker's corpse-like flesh. The blade slowly and stubbornly pulled free at a maddeningly sluggish pace.
"Saber!" Shirou cried urgently. Launching himself forward at top speed, he desperately tried to block Berserker's devastating strike.
Yet Arthur's expression remained calm and unwavering, unperturbed by the blade descending toward him.
Quietly, he murmured a single phrase:
"[Strike Air]!"
BOOM—!
A deafening explosion burst forth from Arthur, sending out a terrifying gale that instantly blasted away the encroaching mist. The sheer force knocked Shirou backward, sending him sprawling.
Berserker, lacking Achilles' formidable defensive protection, took the attack at point-blank range.
Crash—!
The towering Servant was flung violently away, smashing through a distant wall as if shot from a cannon. He struck with enough force to completely shatter stone, a horrifying cavity now gaping in his chest.
"It hurts! It hurts! So this is the pain inflicted by the oppressor! The pain bestowed by oppression itself! Hahahaha!!"
Despite his chest having been utterly obliterated, Berserker stood back up as if nothing had happened. Crimson light began flashing across his body, rapidly filling the gaping wound. His torso swelled grotesquely, new, twisted flesh erupting outward, growing him larger and more distorted than before.
A misshapen, unnatural arm emerged grotesquely from his chest.
"More! Show me more pain—the agony only an oppressor can deliver!!"
His mad laughter echoed endlessly through the deserted streets.
Suddenly, a crimson flash of light pierced Berserker's chest from behind without warning.
In a soft voice that only Berserker could hear, the white-haired girl whispered curiously, "Will this let me find the others from the Red Faction?"
Perched upon her shoulder, a bizarre, insect-like creature swiftly burrowed into Berserker's wound before it could fully heal.
Masters and Servants shared a connection through their contract—one which allowed each to sense the other's location clearly. Exploiting this bond, the girl sought to pinpoint the rest of Red faction's whereabouts.
"Move aside, little girl," Berserker growled calmly. Showing no anger despite the blade still buried in his chest, his massive hand reached slowly toward her.
Assassin's incredible agility would have easily allowed her to dodge. Yet she remained still, sensing no hostility from Berserker.
Why isn't he attacking me? She wondered curiously. She'd just impaled him—so why was there no resentment in his gaze?
Confusion swirled in her eyes, curiosity compelling her to remain still, waiting to see what he intended.
Surprisingly, the giant's enormous hand grasped her gently, carefully setting her down on the pavement.
Then, with an unexpectedly gentle expression, he patted her head lightly, a strangely warm smile spreading across his monstrous face.
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T/N: oooh right its zoukens worm