—During the Trojan War, despite the participation of renowned heroes like Achilles and Ajax, it took years to conquer Troy. There were several reasons for this.
For instance, the internal conflicts within the invading army caused by Achilles' disdain for the leader Agamemnon, or the fact that Troy was an impregnable fortress under the protection of the sun god Apollo.
However, all of these were merely trivial details. If those were the only obstacles, the Greek forces might have suffered, but they would never have been driven to the brink of despair, unable to breach the enemy's defenses.
The greatest reason could be attributed to one man—the presence of Hector, the prince of Troy and a great hero.
A warrior, a general, a strategist, a politician, and a member of the royal family, Hector united the entire Trojan army, sustaining their morale and fighting spirit.
Though the Trojan War ultimately collapsed after Achilles slew Hector, it was an undeniable fact that the Achaean forces had been pushed to their limits solely because of Hector's existence.
"That guy kept running away, laughing and saying, 'If I fight you, a man blessed by the goddess, I'd be inviting divine retribution!' So, to force a fair one-on-one fight, I created this move."
"Truly fitting of you, Achilles."
Sakatsuki was at a loss for words.
From a normal person's perspective, this space should have been designed to grant the user overwhelming advantages—boosting their parameters or weakening the enemy's abilities. That would have been the conventional use of such a grand magecraft.
Yet, this man had created this grand magecraft solely for the sake of pursuing an impartial and fair fight.
Achilles grinned, clashing his fists together.
"Just as you said, here, divinity means nothing. If you get hit, you bleed. If your joints are locked, they dislocate. There's no room for third-party interference—not even luck. Time stands still. And once the victor is decided here, the outcome will be reflected in the outside world. Simple, right?"
"Let me guess…" Sakatsuki cracked his neck with a click. "Hector accepted immediately, didn't he?"
"Yeah. He said something like, 'If that's the case, I might still have a chance,' and agreed. But in the end, I still beat him."
Achilles stomped the ground with a thud, shifting into a close-combat stance. The scene of him and Sakatsuki facing off resembled two beasts baring their fangs and claws.
"So, Sakatsuki, do you accept?"
"Hah. Bare-handed? Seems you're confident in your fists. That's fine by me."
"Hey, don't play dumb. You're no slouch in hand-to-hand combat yourself."
Sakatsuki was right—Achilles' fists and feet were taught by Chiron, and Pankration remained synonymous with brutality to this day. Chiron had even used it to hurl the diving red Saber to the ground, leaving them severely wounded and spitting blood.
Achilles' words held no error either. Sakatsuki's Baji Quan, derived from the Fate Compendium, had been honed to a level that rivaled any master. It took only a single punch to shatter black Berserker's defenses.
Heroes were beings brimming with confidence, yet never before had they been so acutely aware that death loomed just a hair's breadth away. Here, there was no luck to shield them, no skills to aid them. A single strike to a vital point meant death—even if Sakatsuki still held countless trump cards, they would be useless. Death in this world would be absolute, and the Assassin would cease to exist.
Their hearts burned, and the sensation drew desperate smiles from both men. Only in this moment did they cast aside the Holy Grail War and their roles as Servants. Here, they were nothing but warriors with names, and that was more than enough.
Fists clenched, they crashed together. In the crisp emerald world around them, they exchanged their names—
Three—
"My true name is Achilles, son of Peleus."
Two—
"I am Sakatsuki, a nameless traveler, disciple of the ancient art of Bajiquan."
One—
They pulled apart, assumed their stances, and spoke in unison:
"Here and now, with honor—"
Zero.
"We settle this!!!"
The instant Achilles' straight punch struck Sakatsuki, his own devastating blow landed on Achilles' liver.
Roaring, they glared at each other, exhilaration fueling their decisive strikes.
Under normal circumstances, this single exchange would have decided the match. A direct hit from Achilles would shatter an ordinary man's skull, while Sakatsuki's Bajiquan wouldn't just damage the liver—it would pulverize every organ, turning them into a bloody paste.
Even if their opponent wasn't human, even a Servant wouldn't remain standing unscathed. This was beyond conventional limits—fists forged through near-insane training.
But for these two freaks, this was just a warm-up, a mere greeting before the real battle.
With a wet cough, Achilles spat out a mouthful of congealed blood and swiftly retreated to create distance. Meanwhile, Sakatsuki wiped the blood from his brow, his wounds slowly knitting back together.
One was a warrior who had reached the pinnacle of physical prowess under the tutelage of a sage in ancient Greece. The other was an assassin blessed by the Third Magic, nearly impossible to kill.
Seeing his evenly matched opponent, Achilles let out a cold laugh. Sakatsuki, too, snorted softly through his nose. No words were needed—his living step closed the gap in an instant, and he struck first!
Arms raised to block, left fist lashing out, bodies twisting to evade, fists colliding—their movements shifted in the blink of an eye, like two dragons entwined in a struggle for dominance.
The crimson scarf fluttered in the air. Sakatsuki's gaze flickered toward it for a split second, and Achilles seized the chance to duck beneath the incoming punch. The muscles in his legs coiled like compressed springs—then, in the next instant, he launched himself skyward!
Realizing the danger, Sakatsuki crossed his arms. In the span of a single second, Achilles unleashed five consecutive kicks swift as shooting stars. Blood splattered as Sakatsuki's face twitched from the excruciating pain. He tried to counter, but Achilles had already distanced himself with the final kick, landing gracefully in the distance before breaking into a sprint.
"Raaaaaah—!!"
A soul-shaking roar erupted as the speed-renowned hero charged forth, instantly accumulating terrifying momentum and concentrating it into a single point—his soaring, flying kick!
The impact rivaled that of a bullet, yet Sakatsuki didn't evade. Instead, he rooted his stance, bridging his hands before defiantly thrusting out both palms.
Mountain-Climbing Tiger Strike!
Fist and foot collided. The crisp sound of bone fracturing echoed alongside the sonic boom, yet neither man's expression faltered. Sakatsuki twisted his body and swung his leg, while Achilles raised his arm to block—only for his stance to be shattered in an instant.
"What…!?"
Achilles' eyes widened in shock. The moment his fist was deflected, Sakatsuki had already closed the distance, slipping into his guard. Without hesitation, Achilles raised his knee to strike, but Sakatsuki seized his right leg, shattered the joint, and snapped the bone before hurling Achilles backward.
Dust billowed as the figure crashed through the courtyard house, smashing through three walls before finally coming to a stop.
It wasn't floating in midair—rather, his body had been tossed around like a toy. Then came the violent impact against his face. In that brief moment of disorientation, a black figure closed in like a specter, driving a fist straight toward his skull like a steel spear!
A warrior's instincts saved Achilles. He rolled aside, his entire body breaking out in sweat as if warning him—he wasn't out of danger yet. The howling wind at the back of his head signaled Sakatsuki's follow-up, a blade-like kick aimed at his skull!
Pushing off with both arms, Achilles vaulted into the air to evade the strike. But this wasn't mere defense—with astonishing control, he retaliated midair with a spinning kick.
Like ink splashed across paper in a single, fluid stroke, Sakatsuki raised his arms to block. Yet the kick wasn't just an attack—it was a pivot. Using it as leverage, Achilles, already airborne, twisted in midair and drove his other leg into Sakatsuki's face with devastating force.
Double Spinning Kick!
A miracle only a hero famed for his leg strength could achieve. The strike, swift as a meteor, lasted but an instant—yet Sakatsuki shook off the dizziness of a concussion just as quickly. Blood obscured his right eye, but he didn't even glance at it before seizing Achilles' ankle with both hands.
At the cost of a life-threatening injury, he had grasped Achilles' greatest weakness—and now, he twisted.
The peerless lethality of Bajiquan manifested once more. Precision muscle control tore apart like flesh under a hot blade. A heavy, searing pain surged through Achilles' body—it was a miracle he didn't scream. Even so, gritting his teeth, he retaliated by snapping Sakatsuki's arm with his uninjured leg, breaking free in the process.
The distance between them widened again. Less than twenty seconds had passed since the initial clash, yet the results were brutally clear.
Achilles' spinning kick had destroyed Sakatsuki's right eye and broken his arm.
Sakatsuki's fist technique twisted Achilles' tendon, crippling his famed speed.
In terms of injuries, Sakatsuki was far worse off, but in terms of severity, Achilles was the one in crisis.
Their life-or-death struggle had granted them a brief, mutual respite.
"Truly worthy of being called the Swift-Footed," Sakatsuki praised, his head still reeling from the blow to his temple, his consciousness flickering. "To think you could destroy my eye."
"But that's all you managed," Achilles retorted, flexing his foot, no longer as agile as before. "You didn't hold back either—crushing my ankle the moment I landed a hit."
"Once you seize your opponent, you must break them. Whether it's Pankration or Bajiquan, isn't that the essence of all killing arts?"
"True. My teacher taught me the same—and I remember it well!"
Even with his injured ankle, Achilles blurred into motion before the words had fully left his mouth. Both fighters instinctively lowered their stances, fists lashing out, trading devastating blows even as they took the hits head-on.
As long as my skull isn't shattered or my heart torn out, I will never fall!
Achilles swore silently.
What does your Comet Sprint matter? My Baji needs no second strike! Sakatsuki's remaining left eye burned with a cold, maddened blue light, his killing intent sharp as ice.
The battle to the death—continued!