The "Red" Rider, Achilles. If he was the owner of that hero-slaying spear, it was undoubtedly him.
Archer felt almost certain of the "Red" Rider's True Name from analyzing his spear.
Overwhelming immortality. A three-horsed chariot. Agility surpassing the Lancer class. And that spear. With all these combined, the name Achilles naturally came to mind.
Currently, only three people knew of Archer's analytical abilities: Fiore, Darnic, and Lancer Vlad III.
"Well, I suppose I should report it," Archer muttered, putting away his bow.
Fiore and Archer visited Darnic and Lancer to report on the previous battle.
"The Rider's true identity is Achilles. I see, that explains his immortality," Darnic said, his expression turning grave upon hearing Archer's report.
Achilles. A great hero known to all.
"If he's a hero of the Trojan War, they must all be first-class Servants. Among them, Achilles is exceptional. But we've found a clue to defeat him. Isn't that right, Archer?" Lancer looked at Archer from his throne.
Archer nodded. "Indeed, Your Majesty. My normal attacks didn't work, but a Noble Phantasm with a legend of god-slaying was able to wound him. So, either I, who possess Anti-Divine Noble Phantasms, or other Servants could likely succeed by aiming for his heel."
Just as the "Black" Saber had no defense on his back, Achilles' heel was presumably his fatal weakness. Servants are usually summoned with the weaknesses recorded in their legends.
"And, Archer. There's one thing I'd like to ask you, if I may?" Darnic turned to face Archer.
"Certainly, but what is it?"
"About your True Name."
No one knew the True Name of the "Black" Archer. Until now, he had claimed his memories were confused and had not revealed it.
But Darnic wanted to ascertain his True Name as soon as possible.
There were two reasons.
First, if he was a Heroic Spirit like Siegfried or Achilles with a recorded weakness in his legend, there was no guarantee that weakness wouldn't be exploited by chance. Since they didn't know Archer's True Name, the enemy probably didn't either, but the calamity of coincidence was possible.
Even if it wasn't as clear-cut as a unique vulnerability that bypassed immortality, for example, Chiron, whom Fiore originally intended to summon, lost his life to Hydra venom. If Chiron were summoned as a Servant, he would have to be extremely cautious of Hydra venom above all else. Although, obtaining something like the venom of a high-ranking Phantasmal Species like the Hydra was nearly impossible.
Many Servants had weaknesses like this. Even without specific weaknesses, compatibility could manifest, such as swords with dragon-slaying legends being effective against Servants with dragon attributes.
Knowing the True Name was necessary to pay attention to these points.
Second, it was for dealing with Archer if they were to become enemies.
While they were currently in a state of war with the "Red" faction, once that was over, they would turn to killing each other within the "Black" faction. At that time, Archer would undoubtedly stand as an obstacle before Darnic.
At the very least, Darnic assessed Archer as possessing danger equivalent to the "Black" Saber.
In response to Darnic's question, Archer made a sour face. He sighed and answered, "My apologies, my memory hasn't returned yet."
"Even without your memory, you must have some clues, right? You used so many Noble Phantasms against Rider."
What made Darnic both appreciate and wary of Archer was the quantity of his Noble Phantasms.
Normal Servants only possessed one or two Noble Phantasms. The Rider class, which overwhelmed enemies with abundant Noble Phantasms, was an exception, but even then, the limit was roughly the number of fingers on both hands.
The Archer class generally tended to have powerful Noble Phantasms themselves, but this Archer's arrows themselves were Noble Phantasms, and he had fired dozens, discarding them after use. This was extraordinary. A tactic of discarding unique Noble Phantasms without any attachment was not something a proper Servant would employ.
"Indeed, everything I used then were Noble Phantasms. But, did you recognize any of those Noble Phantasms?"
"...That's..." Darnic hesitated.
Opportunities to see Noble Phantasms themselves were rare. Being asked if he recognized them was just troublesome. In any case, the only Heroic Spirit who used countless Noble Phantasms was the King of Heroes of Uruk. And Archer was not a king.
"Moreover, to be precise, those are not Noble Phantasms in the true sense of the word."
At Archer's words, Lancer smiled with deepened interest.
"What do you mean by that, Archer?"
"They are fakes. Fakes cannot serve as the brilliant symbols of heroes, and there's no hesitation in discarding them."
"Fakes? So, those were..." Even to the eyes of Lancer, a Servant, Archer's attacks seemed like genuine Noble Phantasms. But what did he mean by calling them fakes? He wasn't being modest. Then, those were undoubtedly counterfeit Noble Phantasms.
"But, counterfeit Noble Phantasms...? And ones powerful enough to wound Servants... they can't be prepared so easily, can they?" Fiore asked.
Archer gave a wry smile at Fiore's question. Even the golems that could only last a few exchanges against Servants were creations of Caster. The effort required to create counterfeits capable of inflicting fatal wounds on Servants would be immense.
"It doesn't require much effort. They are products of magecraft. All that's needed is sufficient magical energy."
"Magecraft? Those were...?" Fiore tilted her head.
Archer certainly possessed the 'Magecraft' skill. It was low-ranked, and Fiore could handle magecraft of the level Archer could use with higher precision. She had thought he had merely dabbled in magecraft during his lifetime, but perhaps that wasn't the case.
Archer's magecraft was for analysis, reinforcement, and creating counterfeits.
"Don't tell me... Projection Magecraft?"
"Nonsense! Perfect projection of Noble Phantasm-level items is impossible!" Darnic was the first to react to Fiore's words.
Having served as a lecturer at the Clock Tower for many years, his knowledge of magecraft was deep. And he had never heard of anyone creating Noble Phantasms through Projection Magecraft.
"Darnic. What is this 'Projection Magecraft'?" Lancer didn't know about Projection Magecraft. That was because he was a king of a nation with no connection to magecraft during his lifetime. Also, as a devout Christian, he had opportunities to approach the Holy Word but not magecraft.
"Y-Yes. Projection Magecraft is magecraft that artificially creates objects based on magical energy. It's typically used to temporarily supplement missing tools during rituals, but it ultimately remains a makeshift method. Projected objects cannot exist for long periods and are vastly inferior in function to the originals. Normally, projecting a knife would only create something too fragile to even cut meat."
"But he is different."
"Yes. As hard as it is to believe..."
Darnic still looked suspiciously at Archer. It was understandable. Archer's magecraft overturned millennia of common sense in magecraft.
"The reason I can't recall my own True Name is partly because this aspect bothers me. I have no recollection of anyone who became a Heroic Spirit using Projection Magecraft."
"I see, indeed. Projecting Noble Phantasms is a power that could warrant Sealing Designation. It's unlikely I wouldn't know about it."
Even from the perspective of a minor magus rather than a minor Heroic Spirit, there was no magus corresponding to Archer's True Name.
Both Lancer and Archer himself possessed the knowledge of heroes granted by the Grail, but no hero in history was confirmed to have used Projection Magecraft.
"I see. So you are a nameless hero."
"'Nameless'... That might suit me after all."
Being able to discard Noble Phantasms was equivalent to having an infinite number of jokers.
"Projection isn't that convenient either. It can't match a Servant who has mastered one thing. I cannot bring out the true value of the projected items, and their rank drops. They aren't quite worthy of being called jokers." Archer shrugged.
"Then, I'll take my leave. If you find any information about a projection magus, please let me know."
"Ah, understood. Don't get your hopes up too much, but I'll look through the materials as much as possible."
Then, Archer, along with Fiore, took their leave from Darnic and Lancer.
On the way back to their room, Fiore asked Archer, "Archer. You were a magus in your lifetime, weren't you?"
"Well, I suppose so. Though a person I consider my teacher told me I'd remain a third-rate magus even if I worked my whole life. In truth, aside from minimally learning orthodox magecraft, I only had talent for projection."
"Even so, you reached the level of a Heroic Spirit. Shouldn't that be something to be proud of?"
Archer fell silent at Fiore's words. It was true he became a Heroic Spirit using magecraft. But it wasn't because his magecraft was evaluated. For Archer, magecraft was merely a means. And Archer became a Heroic Spirit due to the achievements he accumulated. Whether they were good deeds or evil deeds, the world evaluated Archer as worthy of being a Guardian.
"...I wonder. It seems I didn't have much attachment to magecraft itself. I think there was something more important to me than that."
There was a burning, almost obsessive, original aspiration. There was a dream to fulfill, a light he pursued.
"But that too is a phantom of the past. What we must do now is wield our swords for victory."
"Yes, please take care of me, Archer. You're the only one who can directly wound that Rider."
"From the perspective of a Greek great hero, facing me is far beneath him, but I will give it my all."
An opponent he couldn't defeat without exerting his full power.
Their names were still unknown, but both the "Red" Saber and the "Red" Lancer were likely famous Heroic Spirits. The "Red" faction seemed to have gathered great heroes with the serious intent to crush them.
Even so, he had no intention of losing.
Having survived countless desperate battles, Archer was undoubtedly one of the heroes.
Archer returned to his private room after conversing with Fiore.
After the battle with the "Red" Rider, Archer felt considerable fatigue, but with the abundant magical energy supply, he could recover quickly.
Archer opened the door and entered the room.
And immediately noticed something wrong.
The homunculus, who should usually be sleeping in the bed, was gone.
He hadn't heard anything about Caster capturing him either. That meant the "Black" Rider must have taken him and escaped.
The timing couldn't be better.
Since all attention was focused on the battlefield, even if the homunculus escaped, there would likely be no one to pursue him.
Even if found, it was just one homunculus. It was hard to imagine a magus spending time and effort chasing after beings that could be mass-produced.
"But I am concerned," he mused.
Leaving him alone probably wasn't a problem, but unlike Rider, he had still looked after him. At the very least, seeing him off might be appropriate.
Archer turned spiritual and left the room, then materialized on the roof.
He found Rider and the others immediately.
With Archer's hawk-like eyes, finding them even a few kilometers away was effortless. If they were hiding behind obstacles, it would be one thing, but moving straightforwardly through the forest was hardly discreet. Rider had far too many gaps.
"What in the world are they doing?"
The problem was that Rider was being restrained by Saber. The homunculus was prostrate on the ground, barely breathing. It seemed Saber's Master had just subjected him to severe violence.
An extraordinary situation was unfolding.
Rider and Saber might come into conflict over the homunculus.
"What are a hero and a magus doing, gathering around a mere homunculus?" Archer cursed inwardly as he turned spiritual and headed for the scene.
"Why couldn't you make the decision sooner! You could have stopped him! You could have stopped that fool!" Rider tearfully accused Saber.
Rider was kneeling beside the homunculus, clutching his hand tightly. The homunculus seemed on the verge of death, with not a moment to spare. Immediate, proper treatment was necessary. But that required seeking help from a magus. That was impossible. Rider had escaped this far to save the homunculus from that very magus.
"I'm sorry." Saber could only apologize to Rider and the homunculus.
"Sorry isn't good enough! This... he was just trying desperately to live! We might be Soul Eaters, murderers, just Servants, but still... to not even be able to respect the will to live..."
Rider had no words to retort.
As a hero of charity, he had fulfilled many wishes. In return, he had overlooked many lamentations. Because he wasn't asked, because he wasn't wished for, he didn't extend a hand. Having died bearing countless regrets in that manner, Saber, upon gaining a second life, was about to repeat the same mistake.
Without a shadow of a doubt, it was Saber's sin.
As Rider said, if Saber had taken one more step forward from his Master, he might have changed this outcome.
If he had exhausted his words, spoken earnestly, his Master might have understood. Neglecting that effort and merely mechanically obeying orders was Saber's bad habit, unchanged from his lifetime. In the end, Saber had effectively trampled on a small life that couldn't even raise its voice.
"Damn it, damn it! Don't die. You can still live!" Compared to Rider's sincere feelings for the homunculus, the pettiness of Saber's way of being became clear.
Rider, who could laugh for someone's happiness and cry for their sorrow, rather than being a mere machine for fulfilling the wishes of strangers, was the one truly worthy of being a hero.
"It seems I was about to stray from the path again," Saber placed a hand on his own chest.
The heartbeat there. The crystal of his life, pumping dragon's blood.
"It's not over yet. I still have a life I should offer him."
Because of his own hesitation, a life that wished to live was about to be lost. Then, he should atone for that responsibility with his own life. The result might lead him down a thorny path. But it was the only thing the current Saber could do.
"Saber! It's too early for that!" The one who interrupted Saber's anguished resolve was Archer.
"Archer!" Rider turned and called his name.
Now that he thought about it, he often saw Rider and Archer talking more than other Servants. Perhaps he already knew about the homunculus.
"Saber. Sharing a Servant's body is a last resort, saved for the very end. It's not over yet."
Only Archer, who had been closely watching Saber, could discern the meaning of his actions.
Archer walked straight to the homunculus, knelt beside him, and checked his pulse.
"The pulse is still there. He's quite sturdy for a homunculus." Had he unconsciously defended himself with magecraft?
"Synchronization Start. Trace, On." Archer analyzed the homunculus's body.
The human body is less permeable to magical energy than inorganic matter. But in this field, Archer, who had mastered it, found examining the homunculus's body easy.
Mild damage to internal organs. Cracks in the skull and cheekbone. Numerous internal hemorrhages. The worst part was extreme fatigue. He must have continuously used unfamiliar magecraft.
"Can you save him?" Saber asked nonetheless.
Archer nodded in response. "Injuries of this level... I encountered them many times in my life."
Archer immediately prioritized and employed healing magecraft. One of the orthodox magecrafts Archer had learned. Its precision was far inferior to a first-rate magus, but it was sufficient for first aid. He used analysis to clarify the treatment areas and focused on repairing them.
It was a serious injury but not critical. As long as the wounds were healed, there was still a way to save him.
The healing magecraft he had diligently learned to save lives slipping through his palms. And he also had some connection and knowledge regarding homunculi.
Unlike humans, homunculi were fragile but had more flexible bodies. They should be able to accept minor alterations caused by rough healing.
He staked a glimmer of hope on that.
After about twenty minutes of continuous healing, the homunculus's breathing stabilized. He hadn't regained consciousness, but the immediate danger to his life seemed to have passed.
"It will take time for his stamina to recover. The time he has left to live is far too short. Even so, he survived today."
"Thank goodness... Thank goodness!" Rider hugged the homunculus and burst into tears.
He had kept him alive. That alone made him happy.
Even so, problems remained piled high. Archer's clumsy healing magecraft couldn't restore him to perfect condition. This was merely first aid, like patching up wounds. But Archer had projection.
He projected a nameless short sword. Not even a Noble Phantasm.
"What's that?"
"Nothing much. Just a short sword imbued with a minor healing spell. Even if you can't use magecraft, just holding it will have some effect."
Archer sheathed the short sword and placed it on the homunculus's chest.
"It's for self-defense. It only has the function of healing wounds and protecting from misfortune."
But it was necessary for the homunculus now.
Slowly, the sword's power would heal his body. In his lifetime, Archer had encountered many conceptual weapons and mystic codes that took the form of swords but were used as magecraft catalysts. If he could project Noble Phantasm-level items, there was no reason he couldn't project those armaments.
This short sword was also one of the mystic codes he had learned about in his lifetime.
If kept constantly by his side, it might slightly extend his lifespan.
Magecraft sometimes overturns reason
By morning, he should recover enough to be able to walk.
"The rest is for him to decide." Archer stood up.
The homunculus was breathing calmly at a steady rhythm. There were no external wounds, and his insides were almost restored. The short sword would heal the remaining damage. He had done all he could for now.
"Rider."
"Yeah, I know."
This was the limit.
The extent to which Rider could care for him ended here. The path ahead was one the deceased Rider could not tread. The homunculus's way of life had to be decided and walked by himself, the living one.
"Archer." Saber spoke gravely.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it. I just did what I wanted to do. The problem is what comes next. You've probably earned Caster's hatred at the very least, and you have your Master to deal with, Saber."
He had punched his Master. Given that Master's personality, he couldn't even imagine how things would unfold later.
"It's fine. I will exhaust my words to gain my Master's understanding."
"If you say so."
Archer thought about the future.
They would probably need to explain letting the homunculus escape.
Darnic would surely not understand. But Lancer was different.
If Saber, Rider, and Archer spoke with one voice, things probably wouldn't end badly.