Medea's Noble Phantasm, Rule Breaker, was a ritual dagger capable of nullifying any magecraft. More specifically, it was an 'Anti-Thaumaturgy' Noble Phantasm that could return any active spell or contract to the state it was in before its application.
In simpler terms, her Noble Phantasm could sever the contract between Wayland and Ereshkigal, rendering his Servant 'wild'. If she then managed to seize his Command Spells, she could easily become Ereshkigal's new Master.
She was the natural enemy of all Masters.
Wayland had no intention of letting the Ereshkigal he'd worked so hard to summon be taken from him. The mere thought of it was enough to make him want to cry.
["Understood."] Ereshkigal was also well aware of the danger Medea's Noble Phantasm posed.
"Here we go!"
Wayland vaulted over a reinforced railing with agile grace, his hands gripping the crimson thorn-spear in a low combat stance.
His gaze swept across the room. Office workers lay slumped over their computer desks and scattered across the floor. This was clearly the workspace of some local company.
A strange, clattering sound suddenly drew Wayland's attention to the ventilation ducts in the ceiling.
"Skeletons?"
With the metallic clack of a vent cover hitting the floor, five skeletons dropped into the center of the office.
"Dragon-Tooth Warriors, huh."
Wayland's expression shifted instantly. His feet skidded across the tile floor as he launched himself forward. In mid-air, he swung his spear like a heavy club, bringing it down directly onto the head of the lead skeleton.
A crisp crack echoed through the room.
Crr-shh!
The skull split apart from top to bottom.
Wayland tucked his left elbow in, thrusting the spear's point forward. The blood-red blade tore through the white bone of the skeleton's chest without the slightest resistance.
With a sharp twist of his right wrist, he flooded the weapon with prana, forcing the spear to spin and project a faint crimson halo.
Bone fragments flew in every direction, pattering against the floor, computer monitors, and floor-to-ceiling windows with a staccato of impacts.
Without a moment's pause, Wayland lashed out with his right leg, his white-armored shin connecting solidly with the chest of a second Dragon-Tooth Warrior.
Simultaneously, he gripped his spear with both hands, a flash of blood-red light illuminating the office as he thrust upward. The weapon tore through the skeleton's abdomen and exited through the back of its skull.
The Dragon-Tooth Warrior on his right was sent flying like a cannonball, slamming into the wall and becoming embedded in the plaster, its limbs twitching feebly.
The one he had impaled simply shattered into dust.
Wayland loosened his grip for a heartbeat, shifting his center of gravity backward. He planted his right foot and twisted his body, swinging the spear in a wide, baseball-like arc. The weapon's point flared with a brilliant crimson light, and under the pressure of the blood-red energy, the final Dragon-Tooth Warrior simply detonated. Countless shards of bone rained down around him.
"Eresh-chan, how are they?"
["No one is dead."]
While Wayland had been fighting, Ereshkigal had been using her prana to move the unconscious office workers into a safe corner of the floor. After a quick diagnostic scan, she reported, ["The situation is the same as the others. They've lost a significant amount of lifeblood. If left alone, they would eventually die. I've stabilized them with a small amount of prana, but they need to be taken to a hospital. With proper care, they should make a full recovery."]
"Good."
Wayland breathed a sigh of relief. Medea was only harvesting prana, not killing,though her methods were functionally the same if left unchecked.
"Any sign of her?" he asked.
["No. But the prana flow from here is leading toward Ryuudou Temple."]
"Ryuudou Temple? It really is Medea, then."
From the perspective of both a magus and a Servant, her actions were perfectly logical.
Her current Master, Souichirou Kuzuki, wasn't a magus. If she wanted to secure a large supply of prana, this was her only viable option.
Suddenly, a brilliant light flared outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.
A massive concentration of dark purple prana filled his vision.
Wayland looked up. In the darkness of the night, several massive magic circles had manifested in the sky, all of them aimed directly at the skyscraper.
Standing within the radiance was a woman clad in a deep purple robe.
Her hood obscured the upper half of her face, revealing only a few strands of blue hair and lips painted a deep, regal purple.
Even at a glance, she was a stunning, regal beauty.
["Master!"]
"Protect the civilians. I'm heading out,this office is no place for a fight against her."
Under the influence of her High-Speed Divine Words, a high-level spell manifested in the time it took her to speak. Elongated black 'arrows' of prana tore through the glass facade of the building, the reinforced windows shattering under the onslaught with a series of thunderous booms.
Wayland gave his spear a sharp twirl and sprinted forward at his absolute limit.
He looked like a falling star, trailing a faint white radiance behind him.
Behind him, the floor tiles were being systematically pulverized by the incoming spells. Debris pattered against his armor before being deflected away by his protective fields.
Without slowing down for a heartbeat, he released his spear. The prana in the air fluctuated violently as it was drawn into the weapon's wake. Under Wayland's guidance, the energy coiled around the shaft, transforming the spear into a literal dragon of blood-red light.
Medea, hidden beneath her purple hood, showed no emotion.
She raised her right hand, her black wand whistling as it struck the air. The prana around her surged like an ocean wave.
A magic circle manifested in front of her. Beneath layers of concentrated energy, a bolt of dark purple prana tore through the air at an unprecedented speed, colliding head-on with the incoming spear.
A sound like a localized thunderclap echoed in his ears.
Wayland was already in front of Medea, a newly projected spear gripped firmly in his hand.
With a piercing whistle like a sword being returned to its sheath, the spear became a streak of light, lunging directly toward Medea's heart.
"Projection?"
Medea's voice drifted from a distance.
Wayland frowned and arrested the spear's momentum, turning to face the Caster.
Space-time magecraft.
'What a pain.'
"Hehe... a Lancer who utilizes the techniques of a magus?"
Wayland didn't answer. He spoke softly into the air, "Eresh-chan."
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]