Under Archer's bewildered gaze, Wayland leaned his upper body back. Drawing on the strength of his core and shoulders, he threw the spear in his right hand with explosive force.
The twin blades, Kanshou and Bakuya, blurred through the air like streaks of lightning. A sudden, piercing metallic screech rang out.
The spear was knocked off course, burying itself deep in the reinforced floor just a few meters in front of Archer.
At that same moment, threads of blood-red light began to spread from Wayland's position.
He held his remaining spear high.
One hand gripped the base of the shaft, while the other supported the head.
"This is...?"
Archer's eyes widened. He instinctively tried to leap back, but an overwhelming force suddenly pinned him in place.
He looked down. A massive, dark-purple magic circle, crackling with localized lightning, had manifested on the floor beneath him.
Breaking free would take time.
But the sky was already filled with threads of blood-red light. They rained down like a crimson curtain, enveloping him completely.
Deep within that shroud of light, Wayland pushed his body to its absolute limit. With a terrifying surge of momentum, he released the spear.
The sound of the wind was a scream of agony as the weapon closed the distance.
Archer didn't hesitate. He dismissed his twin blades and held out his right hand.
A pale purple flower.
It was subtle, but the sound it made was clear and crisp,a beautiful melody that wove its way around Archer, instantly manifesting a brilliant, multi-layered shield of light.
The surrounding darkness seemed to be sliced apart, revealing faint purple lines of force.
The spear struck.
Its sharp tip hummed as it tore through the air, the high-speed rotation creating a series of thunderous booms.
The impact was immediate.
A cacophony of metallic screeches and grinding sounds followed, seeming to stretch on for an eternity.
The floor around Archer shattered like glass. Billowing clouds of dust and debris soon shrouded the entire building.
In a heartbeat, the spear lunged forward again.
Just as it penetrated an inch into the shield, however, it seemed to reach its limit. Starting from the very tip, the weapon began to crack and splinter.
Archer looked momentarily stunned. "A projection?"
Wayland landed silently on the floor. Hearing the question, he replied evenly, "Aren't yours as well?"
"The Noble Phantasm you just used... it was Gae Bolg Alternative."
Archer stared at him, his analytical mind operating at peak efficiency. "But your spear was a projection. That means you aren't the Queen of the Land of Shadows, Scathach, nor are you the Child of Light, Cu Chulainn. You're a Celtic warrior who was taught by them."
"You're not wrong."
"Scathach taught many people. It seems you're not a particularly famous 'Heroic Spirit', so this must be the limit of your strength."
Wayland didn't bother to respond. Archer was truly a veteran of a thousand battles; in a single exchange, he had managed to see through almost every trick Wayland had. Against an Archer who wasn't even using his bow, this was as far as he could push his current abilities.
"Your Master seems to be on the verge of losing."
"What?"
"If my Master manages to kill yours before you defeat me, your victory will be meaningless. Besides... you've surely noticed it by now. There's another Servant watching us."
Archer's brow furrowed. Without a moment's hesitation, he vanished from the rooftop.
***
Elsewhere.
Rin Tohsaka was gasping for air.
Her magic circuits were screaming in protest from the sudden overload, but the girl standing before her seemed entirely unaffected.
"Rin, get back!"
Arrows.
Three of them, clustered together, rained down from the sky. Their dark-red light carved through the night, appearing like the brightest stars in the firmament.
The girl threw several pieces of wood once again.
Two brilliant white lily flowers bloomed in the air, followed by a sudden, bone-chilling freeze.
Unlike the Great Ice Blast, which was offensive in nature, this was a defensive composite rune spell. It was named the Ice-Flame Shield.
Soft, slender fingers manipulated the prana with expert precision.
The scattering ice-blue petals suddenly converged, forming a spear that intercepted the incoming arrows.
In an instant, the air was filled with swirling snowflakes.
***
The Noble Phantasm
Rin retreated.
Her prana reserves were dangerously low; staying exactly where she was wouldn't help.
Archer's silhouette appeared in her vision. He calmly drew his black bow to its limit, and a single arrow transformed into a streak of light as it tore through the ice-dust toward the hooded girl.
The bowstring hummed with power.
The arrow crossed the distance in a heartbeat, its tip aimed true.
Archer leaped down from the treetops, his red coat billowing behind him. He drew his black metal bow again while still in mid-air.
In an instant, two more arrows tore through the air. They glowed with a dark-red radiance, incinerating the branches in their path and leaving a trail of flickering embers.
The girl's golden hair shifted in the wind, like the surface of an amber lake being stirred by a gentle breeze.
She raised her hand.
A faint golden light radiated from her.
Silence.
The high-speed arrows seemed to lose their very concept of 'momentum'. They stopped dead in the air in front of her, becoming inert objects that floated eerily in the stillness.
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]