Marvel's master of cosmic magic-Chapter 610

"Probably a Noble Phantasm."

Rowan Mercer kept his eyes on the crimson spear in Lancer’s grip.

Among Heroic Spirits, certain weapons were more than enchanted steel. They were legends given form. Armaments born from stories, belief, and human imagination. When invoked, they didn’t behave like tools. They behaved like fate.

Which explained how that spear had sliced through Rowan’s branches so easily.

It also confirmed something Rowan had suspected since reading through the Matou and Tohsaka archives.

The sheath embedded inside Shirou Emiya’s body was almost certainly the same kind of artifact.

Modern magecraft simply couldn’t produce objects that carried conceptual effects.

Rowan knew.

Even with his current alchemical ability, creating something like that would be impossible.

"He... turned into a person?"

Both Lancer and Shirou blurted it out at the same time.

Lancer had assumed a hidden mage was controlling the tree.

He hadn’t expected the tree itself to step out of its trunk and take human shape.

Shirou’s shock ran deeper.

That maple had been dead for years.

Now it stood tall.

Alive.

And somehow human.

If a cat or dog suddenly transformed, he might have processed it.

A tree was a different story.

"Hmph. Enough tricks."

Lancer leveled his spear.

"Die."

He lunged toward Rowan.

Halfway through the motion, his body stiffened.

His eyes snapped toward Shirou.

Three crimson markings burned clearly on Shirou’s left hand.

At the same time, the summoning circle inside the shed flared brighter.

Realization hit.

"So you’re the seventh Master."

Lancer’s killing intent sharpened.

"Then you go first."

He twisted in midair and redirected his spear toward Shirou.

Shirou’s legs gave out.

He dropped backward, staring at the descending blade.

Rowan vanished.

He reappeared between them.

One finger extended.

Tap.

The spear was knocked off course as if it had struck an invisible wall.

Lancer landed hard, skidding several meters.

"What?"

He surged forward again.

A blur of thrusts filled the air, each aimed at a vital point.

Rowan didn’t move.

Every strike was intercepted.

A flick.

A deflection.

A redirection.

All with a single finger.

Lancer leapt back, breathing heavily.

"That’s not possible," he muttered.

"A mage’s body shouldn’t be able to do that."

Rowan gave a small smile.

"Correct."

Lancer’s eyes narrowed.

"This isn’t magecraft."

Which meant one thing.

Rowan Mercer wasn’t human in the normal sense.

Before either could move again, the shed exploded with light.

The summoning circle completed.

Mana surged.

Shirou, still reeling, crawled behind a large rock near the shed and stayed low.

He knew his limits.

Charging in would only get him killed.

If Rowan started losing, he would move.

Until then, surviving was the only contribution he could make.

The light faded.

Footsteps echoed.

A girl stepped out of the shed.

She wore silver armor over a blue dress, a sword resting at her hip.

Blonde hair.

Green eyes.

Calm and disciplined.

She looked first at Lancer.

Another Servant.

Then her gaze shifted to Rowan.

"Excuse me," she said. "Are you my Master?"

Rowan tilted his head.

"Not at the moment. The one who summoned you is over there."

He pointed toward the rock.

Shirou slowly peeked out.

The girl followed Rowan’s gesture.

"...Understood."

Lancer clicked his tongue.

"Tch. More problems."

Power surged around him.

Crimson energy wrapped his spear.

"I’ll kill the mage first," he said coldly. "Then I’ll deal with the new Servant and her Master."

Rowan’s attention snapped back to Lancer.

Something about the pressure rolling off that spear felt different.

He smiled.

"Now we’re getting somewhere."

For the first time, Rowan prepared seriously.

Golden light wrapped around his body.

A layered defensive field formed over his skin.

Rowan had endured city-shattering force before.

This shield was far beyond what he normally used.

Lancer raised his spear.

"No defense can stop this."

The air distorted.

Causality twisted.

"My strike always reaches the heart."

The spear disappeared.

It didn’t fly.

It simply existed.

Already buried in Rowan Mercer’s chest. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Blood spilled.

Rowan staggered.

Silence fell.

...

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