Type-Moon: My Destiny Guide

Now, all the thunder and lightning are gathered on his arm!

jingle.

The coin bounced up, golden lightning connecting it to the arm of lightning, pulling it into the predetermined launch port.

Vlad III's pupils contracted sharply, and he almost instantly sensed the deadly danger!

How could this be? The Grand Prince of Wallachia was incredulous.

That seemingly ordinary currency, circulating in every household, could make him feel as if he were facing a formidable enemy!

What a joke!

Despite his disbelief, Vlad III honestly called upon the rafters, which surrounded him like a tortoise shell, layer upon layer.

The next moment, the coin fell back into the young man's fingertips, and upon contact, it transformed into a dazzling star.

"Goodbye."

Along with the words, a bolt of destructive lightning shot out!

Target—Astolfo!

Yes, it was not the impregnable defenses of Vlad III, but the heavily wounded and defenseless Astolfo.

It would be better to cut off one of his fingers than to hurt ten of them!

An assassin with a ruthless mindset would never miss an opportunity to eliminate any enemy.

Such an emergency caught not only the Grand Duke off guard, but even Astolfo himself was caught off guard.

That was an attack that a magic book could not block, because its true form was a coin, a creation of iron.

As he watched the blazing lightning grow ever larger in his field of vision, Afu's mind went completely blank.

Am I going to die?

In his final moments before death, his mind didn't replay any replays of his life; instead, only one figure appeared in his mind.

Silver hair and red eyes, an artificial human as innocent as a child, his Master—Sieg.

I'm so sorry, it seems we won't be able to meet again...

As he peacefully closed his eyes, at the critical moment, Astolfo heard a distant, panting shout.

"By commanding, by incantation!"

"Dodge this attack!"

Chapter 472 You little brat, stop right there!

"Teacher, how exactly do you use the Command Seals you mentioned?"

"Summon, Boost, Protect, Disengage... These three Command Seals are your mini wish-granting machine. Of course, they work even better when paired with a Pokémon Trainer, cough cough... with your Master's Rejuvenation Roar and Show Your Might."

"Oh, I understand, thank you, teacher!"

The memory of Sieg asking him for knowledge was still vivid, and at this moment, as Shuoyue watched the paladin leap out of the electromagnetic cannon's lock-on range like a streak of light and charge at him with a golden lance, and the homunculus girl who disregarded life and death and stepped into the forest, raising her arms and calling out the name of her servant on a distant earthen slope, she felt both helplessness and relief deep in her eyes.

"Is it a trend in this Holy Grail War to have father-son or master-disciple matches?"

Having fully recovered his strength, he had at least three ways to evade Astolfo's attack, but the young man simply opened his arms and calmly let the spear pierce his shoulder. Accompanied by Astolfo's desperate shout, Shuoyue was dragged forward, piercing through countless tree branches, breaking through shadows and stray lightning, and rushing straight out of the forest.

With a deafening roar, the spear was driven deep into the mountainside. Amidst the billowing dust, blood flowed along the 'Touch and Fall' trail, soaking Astolfo's hand. Yet, when the wounded assassin raised his head, his eyes remained bright, radiating a dangerous iridescent blue light.

"Old...teacher!"

Zig ran over, panting, her face full of guilt. Shuoyue glanced at the back of her hand and a faint smile appeared on her lips.

“Well done,” he said.

The young man smiled as his figure faded and disappeared into the darkness, the battlefield, the corpses, and the sound of the wind.

He could easily evade Astolfo's attack, and even if he couldn't kill him and Vlad III, he could make them suffer greatly.

But so what? The effectiveness of the electric light has been tested, and the desire for battle has been satisfied, so why be reluctant to give it up?

not to mention--

"The shadow of destruction is already close."

Under the cover of night, Shuoyue moved swiftly, and apart from the gradually healing penetrating wound on her shoulder, her feet remained agile, unaffected by the causal law of 'falling at the slightest touch'.

Even if the Servant's body is shattered, the new moon, possessing the skill of 'Dual Existence', still retains the Master's physical form and will not be affected by Astolfo's spear.

As for why he let the Black team go so readily, it wasn't just because of his good disciple, but also because the plan had already moved to the next stage.

Similarly, this was also an operation kept secret from Lingxia and Artoria.

“It’s your turn to make a move now, little Jack,” Shuoyue murmured, and a girl whispered back from his left arm.

"Okay, Mom. This is a secret between us. I won't tell Toria's mom or Lingxia's mom."

"Good girl, but I still hope you can call me Daddy..."

"Hehe, Mom is Mom, isn't she?~~"

The golden electric orb on his chest flickered, and the assassin thus departed from the battlefield.

While Sieg found the paladin she longed for and fought alongside him on the frontier, where was Joan of Arc, who had set out with her, now?

"What……!?"

Even the Arbiter, who gained all the knowledge of Servants when summoned, was speechless upon seeing that appearance.

"Hmm? You over there, could you be a Servant from the Black Faction...? I don't think so. Hmm, is that so?"

The sound was as refreshing as a cool breeze, and the light movements were reminiscent of leaves swaying in the wind.

A verdant maiden twirled through the air and landed beside Joan of Arc. In her hand lay a large bow, completely disproportionate to her size.

"Is it a Red team archer?"

Joan of Arc immediately became wary of her. This was understandable, given that she had already been attacked by someone from the Red side.

However, Atalanta, who had left the battlefield of the new moon and was now acting again under Amakusa's command, looked at the blonde girl with surprise and said:

"What, you're the one making the decisions? Can't you even distinguish who we should be wary of right now?"

No, of course I understand.

Sensing that there was no murderous intent in Ta-Miao's words, Jeanne relaxed her guard slightly, raised her head, and looked up at the giant figure that was as tall as a mountain.

That's right, she's not the one we should be most wary of right now.

"The second berserker for the Black side, Spartacus..."

Because he was captured by the Black faction and his Master's Servant was forcibly exchanged, he is now an enemy of the Red faction, even though he is a Red Servant.

That alone wouldn't be a problem. In the Holy Grail War, it's not impossible for one's own Servant to become the enemy.

but--

"Oh oh oh oh oh oh!!"

Was this really a possible phenomenon? At first, Joan of Arc thought it was a small hill. Then, the thought crossed her mind: "Could it be a pile of corpses?" Finally, she had to dismiss these ideas and draw her conclusion.

"Spartacus...?"

"Hmm, I really didn't expect it to get this bad. The more I attack him, the stronger he becomes. He's completely forgotten about human form. As expected of a berserker, I never thought he would go to such lengths."

As if feeling utterly helpless, Ta-Miao, the person involved, sighed.

Realizing that the struggle at the new moon was not suitable for her, Atalanta, under Amakusa's instructions, took on the task of restraining the mad Spartacus and then led him to Joan of Arc.

That was a servant who was like a monster; if it were just that huge, Jeanne d'Arc certainly wouldn't have been speechless.

She was speechless with astonishment because of Spartacus's current state. He had eight arms in total, three of which lacked joints and bones. They looked like an octopus, but once swung, they would probably pulverize enemies like whips.

Those legs, as thick as old tree trunks, sprouted countless feet like insects. Perhaps they were unable to support their enormous bodies on just two legs, so they distributed their weight in this way.

The head is almost completely sunken into the neck, while the shoulder area protrudes outward with objects resembling the upper and lower jaws of a dinosaur.

The roar of the flawed beast.

"It's more accurate to call it a cursed artifact than a treasure," Jeanne thought.

He is still alive, he is still active, and more importantly... he is still seeking battlefields and victories everywhere.

The body converts a portion of its injuries into magical energy, which it continuously accumulates to enhance its abilities, likely including healing capabilities. When injured, it converts the damage into magical energy to improve its own abilities and simultaneously heals itself. There is absolutely no room for the Master to intervene in this process.

The problem lies in the fact that his cycle is operating too fast. Due to the uncontrolled healing, his body has deviated from the normal range. Despite this, his physical abilities continue to improve with each injury, resulting in his body gradually transforming into an alien form.

The simplest standard for measuring human strength is height and weight. This is because even among beings known as Heroic Spirits, the majority—basically all—have human-like physical appearances.

However, this rebellious gladiator completely rejected that notion. He believed that eight arms were stronger than two; and if one's weight had increased to the point where the legs could no longer support it, simply adding a few more legs would suffice.

【

The more damage and suffering one endures, the closer one gets to victory—for a berserker with such a belief, this level of situation is probably just a piece of cake.

"Is it there?!"

The five eyes located on his shoulders, neck, and abdomen were all fixed on Atalanta and Joan of Arc. Sensing the danger, the two seemed to be electrocuted and separated to the left and right. Spartacus paid no attention and unleashed a full-force attack forward.

The shattered earth, blasted away, hurtled towards the two girls like grenades.

"Goo!"

"Woo..."

Stones and rocks cut their skin, and Jeanne d'Arc was even damaged in part of her armor. Servants would never have been injured if not for the magical attack. However, Spartacus's punch was infused with overflowing magical power, even corrupting the stones and rocks it shattered.

This is similar to a Servant throwing a short sword. Of course, the phenomenon of magical energy spreading to the stone shattered by the sword was also an experience Jeanne d'Arc had never had before.

"Hmm, it seems you've been dragged into this too. I'm sorry."

Jeanne slowly shook her head at Ta-Miao's apology.

"No, these kinds of trivial matters happen often... However, from a standpoint of opinion, I can't be his enemy. After all, the scope currently involved is only this battlefield."

"Hmm, actually, I have no objection to that either, but—"

The emerald-green-clad girl looked at her with a bitter expression, and Joan of Arc felt a sudden chill run through her body, causing her expression to tighten.

"Because of the Master's order, it's about time for me to retreat."