Type-Moon: My Destiny Guide

"Haha, it's just an affectionate nickname, don't mind it."

Upon hearing this, Atalanta gave him an unpleasant glance.

Having been pursued countless times during her lifetime, how could she not know what this 'junior' was thinking?

The heroes and warriors in Greek mythology all had this kind of character.

"I have never seen the Master. The only person I have seen is the priest who is the Master." Putting aside her distracting thoughts, Atalanta replied calmly.

Upon hearing this, Achilles also stopped smiling and opened his palms.

"The circuits are connected, and the orders have been issued, but they just haven't shown up... This is already considered an abnormal situation."

The Masters of the Red Team were all captivated by one person and turned into puppets—even someone as brave as Achilles and as agile as Atalanta would find it hard to imagine.

“However, there’s a reason why magicians hide.” Atalanta said calmly. She wasn’t the kind of person who cared about her Master. Having grown up in the law of the jungle, even if her Master was killed, she would just conclude that it was ‘survival of the fittest’.

"Something feels really suspicious about that priest and..." Achilles muttered, puzzled. "And yesterday I received news that a mysterious Servant from the Mage's Association has joined the Red Team. It's said he's the one who severely injured 'Black' and activated the Holy Grail War's preparatory system."

At this point, Achilles's true nature was awakened, and he became somewhat excited: "If I could, I would really like to have a showdown with him."

Suddenly, Atalanta looked up at the distance of the forest, and her drooping animal ears stood up.

Achilles abruptly stopped speaking: "What's wrong?"

Atalanta's emerald eyes flashed with a blue light, and her unique 'clairvoyance' pierced through the cover of the forest, revealing a large group of Servants dressed in strange costumes approaching.

"coming soon."

As they said this, the two summoned their respective weapons.

The spear summoned by Achilles differs greatly in appearance from the spear of 'Red'. Karna's spear is a massive lance that relies on its sharp point and immense weight to cause destruction. Karna, on the other hand, wields a simple and sturdy spear designed entirely for close combat.

Judging from its length and the fact that it can be easily held with one hand, it was most likely a gun used for throwing.

He seemed intent on engaging in melee combat without 'riding'. To be honest, that was sheer recklessness. However, his nonchalant demeanor perfectly demonstrated the true heroism of his real name, Achilles.

On the other hand, she summoned a bow that needs no further explanation. A black-painted Western bow, longer than her own height, it was rumored to be a celestial bow bestowed upon her by the goddess of the hunt (Artemis). Its name was Tauroperos, an alternate name for Artemis, the goddess known as the Bull Slayer. It was truly a masterpiece befitting an archer. Nothing could withstand its arrows.

“Then, I will retreat and provide cover for you.” With the battle imminent, Atalanta changed how she addressed her comrade. She immediately retreated, disappearing into the darkness of the forest. As a top-tier hunter, becoming one with the forest was effortless for her.

"Okay, now let me give them a gentle massage."

A short while later, two figures, so clear that even the most discerning eyes could spot them, slowly emerged from the depths of the forest.

"Ah, is that it?" Judging from the aura and weapons of the visitor, Achilles raised his head high, his expression arrogant. "Oh dear, I've really been underestimated. You actually thought you could take me down with just two riders..."

Suddenly, the warrior's madness and ferocity overshadowed 'Red's' handsome face.

"There has to be a limit to shame!"

Despite being outnumbered two to one, such numbers were simply not enough to overcome the arrogance of this great hero.

He was used to the enemy's murderous intent and hatred; for a hero who was content with having only one friend in the world and the women he loved, it was as mild as a breeze.

However, those confronting him were none other than proud and arrogant heroic spirits. Achilles' groans grew rougher, and he seemed to raise the corners of his eyes in displeasure. Yet, neither of them spoke, not only because various factors prevented them from speaking, but also because Achilles had spoken incorrectly.

—This battle was not a one-against-two fight.

Hidden in the forest, Atalanta's cat ears twitched slightly, and her longbow, locked on 'Black', suddenly moved, locking onto yet another figure emerging from the forest.

It was a follower draped in a black robe, concealing her form. She extended a section of her snow-white wrist from the robe, her slender fingertips poised to grasp something. However, to the naked eye, her hand appeared empty, with only the air distorting, refracting, and emitting unusual fluctuations.

"Black"

Achilles' arrogance vanished, his brow furrowed, and he gripped his spear tightly, adopting an extremely serious posture even before the battle began.

Even though he couldn't see it, the warrior's intuition told him that the black-robed follower held a gun, and this mysterious gun—

It possesses the power to harm him!

"Now, it's two against three." A clear female voice came from beneath the black robe. This mysterious servant calmly stated the fact that even the 'Red' was already known to be hiding in the forest.

"Ugh..." On the distant treetops, a bright green cat let out a ruffled, agitated groan.

"We've been discovered." Atalanta gave a wry smile. Their hidden plan had been seen through, clearly indicating that the enemy's preparations were superior.

However, for heroes, all hardships are commonplace until they reach a desperate situation.

After a brief moment of despair, the warrior's passion and fervor flowed through 'Red' once more. Even with three opponents on the front lines, he still brandished his beloved gun, and amidst the swirling glint of its blade, he laughed and declared:

Come, let me inscribe the names of true heroes and true warriors upon you!

If we had to pinpoint the difference in this arrival, it would only be the era and the weaponry; everything else is the same as always, and the word "boring" is enough to dismiss it all.

This is exactly the lifestyle that Hong preferred during her lifetime.

As a renowned hero, all he needs to do is wield his steel spear and charge freely among the enemy!

In the next instant, everything present was swept away, as impure beings were brutally wiped out. Someone strode forward, someone brandished a weapon, someone leaped into the air, someone drew a bow and nocked an arrow, someone thrust out a holy lance.

The fierce battle has begun!

Chapter 416 He is laughing wildly

Chapter 417 He is laughing wildly

Without the protection of He, And's steps also came to a halt.

It wasn't out of fear or timidity, but because the space he could move forward was already crowded out by the densely packed puppets.

To rebel against a tyrant, one must clear a path for others to walk.

Realizing this, the renowned gladiators joined forces with the puppets and androids.

"Come, I will destroy the oppressors with my love!"

Laughing wildly, Spartacus chose to jump into the wave of 'dolls'.

He was struck in the shoulder by a homunculus's battle axe, and his face was slammed by a golem's fist. Despite being hit by fists with the power to shatter steel, his smile remained unbroken. In fact, it seemed that his smile had become even more radiant.

From the very beginning, he had no intention of avoiding any attacks. In fact, he even enjoyed the attacks.

He endured the attacks, endured them, endured them all. He was severely wounded, he was injured, yet even so, that carefree smile never faded. Soon, the androids and golems became confused by the gladiator's actions and ceased their attacks. Then, the operation began.

"Oh, you pitiful puppet of the tyrant, at least let yourselves sleep forever under my sword and fist!"

With a grab of his arm, he seized the golem by the face and easily hurled the golem, which was estimated to be about three meters tall, far away, crushing the unfortunate androids who happened to be at the point of impact.

"Come on, you too."

As he spoke, he casually slashed his sword horizontally, and with that, the upper bodies of the androids present were blasted away; he punched the struggling golem, and its bronze head, enhanced by magic, vanished into thin air.

His tyranny did not cease. He spread his arms wide and charged forward. He swept up five golems in one swift motion and threw them backward with a fierce thud. The stone golems, weighing a total of several tons, were smashed from their heads by his throwing technique (over-the-shoulder throw).

It looked like a typhoon on earth. Every swing of the sword or punch produced a large amount of destroyed debris.

'Red' smiled as she brandished her sword, smiled as she threw her fist; it was nothing short of a nightmare. Even the androids, who possessed only meager emotions, were corrupted by this madness and chose to flee.

After tearing the last golem to pieces, he gazed at the destruction and carnage he had created, nodded with satisfaction, and took another step.

...And this scene was all seen by the Black side.

"Red completely disregarded the androids and golems, and it was a scene of unparalleled invincibility. However, the Blacks did not show any signs of anxiety. This is the natural fighting behavior of Heroic Spirits, and there is no need to be surprised."

That being said, isn't this level of carnage somewhat unusual?

It was a gruesome sight; that monster slaughtered not through skill, but through overwhelming power. It needed no magic, like a Heroic Spirit born solely for battle. Perhaps he wasn't transformed by being a Berserker, but rather that no other class suited him.

Following the speeches, Danic nodded, calmly holding the scepter:

"That was born for battle, and it is destined to die in battle."

"Will I be killed like that too...?"

"Looking at that absurd power, it's entirely possible, at least we should avoid a direct hit."

"I understand. I will try my best."

That was a voice devoid of fighting spirit, utterly dejected. Regarding this blatant attitude, a quiet whisper rang out:

I think you're being a bit careless. If you were to sacrifice yourself here, you wouldn't be able to save him, would you?

"I, I know!"

He stood up, patted his cheeks, and rallied his spirits. As if saying, "Bring it on," he picked up his gun. It was a beautifully decorated, golden-horned musket.

“Go, Astolfo, and let us witness the power of Charlemagne’s Twelve Warriors!” said his Master Sereneke behind him. However, Astolfo was not inspired at all; instead, he sighed and shrugged.

"Ugh, I really don't want to do anything barbaric... But whatever, there's no other way. I'll just show you my power!"

It was a very clear sound—as if in response, sounds and vibrations gradually approached from across the bushes. However, the figure remained hidden in the depths of the night, impossible to pinpoint.

Suddenly, all was silent; the sounds ceased, with only the whistling wind dominating the surroundings. However, the presence could not be concealed; it had already clearly proclaimed its existence before even revealing itself.

He has arrived. With a firm premonition, I tentatively take a step forward.

Come, tyrant! The moment has come when arrogance crumbles and the dignity of the strong is shattered!

As the tree was knocked away, 'Red' appeared.

"Whoa!"

The moment I saw it, I immediately wanted to leave this place.

Giants are not scary. Once, Astolfo fought against a giant named Galigrant, who had dozens of arms, and paraded him through the streets in triumph.

A tough man isn't scary. He treats even a furious monster with the same ease. But if this tough giant is smiling—that's...something creepy.

Yes, smiling is terrifying. To walk into enemy territory with a smile on one's face means either considerable confidence or madness to the point of disregarding the potential benefits or harms.

But I was summoned to defeat the enemy. Fine, whatever, let me take care of you!

Vanishing along with his reason, Astolfo revealed a beaming smile and brandished the golden lance he had just been holding.

"Hear my voice, you who are far away! Come and meet me, you who are near! I am Astolfo, one of the twelve warriors of King Charlemagne! Let us settle this matter fairly and squarely!!"

He finally let out the long-awaited opening remarks he had been wanting to recite, and readily revealed his real name, which should have been kept secret. Fortunately, 'Red' didn't possess the thought process to formulate tactics based on the opponent's real name.

...No, the worst has already happened.

"'Black' Astolfo? One of Charlemagne's twelve paladins, I never expected him to be such a weak heroic spirit."

The moment that black robe appeared, the atmosphere froze like never before.

Vlad III clenched his fists, Danic's face contorted in a grimace, Serenekee held her breath, and in the distance, Chiron and Fiore simultaneously furrowed their brows, as if facing a formidable enemy.