Shinji Matou at Your Service-Chapter 912 - : Fierce Battle Under the Night Sky

"Finally decided to stop running, huh?"

Under the cover of night, a tall man in a blue bodysuit stood atop a wall, looking down at a tall woman dressed in a black bodysuit.

His smirk, filled with explosive energy, and his every movement exuded the unmistakable aura of a beast.

His gaze was cold—like that of a predator focused on prey it must kill.

The woman said nothing, returning his gaze with a similar one. Her long, glowing purple hair fluttered in the wind like writhing, spirit-like serpents.

Yes, she was looking back at him.

Even though the woman wore a blindfold, the man could still feel the gaze emanating from behind it.

Golden, slit-like, snake-like eyes, locked on their target, ready to strike at the throat at any moment.

"Excellent. This is how it should be. I like opponents who know how to behave."

Lancer's lips twisted into a grin, his face becoming even more ferocious.

The wind howled around him, swirling around the crimson spear in his hand—a weapon as red as blood.

"A Lancer-class Servant."

Medusa finally spoke, her voice low, cold, yet laced with a tinge of seduction.

"That's right. You've got speed and mobility that can match mine. You don't seem like an Assassin, so you must be a Rider."

Rider nodded slightly, a sign of acknowledgment.

Lancer, radiating the aura of a beast, jumped down from the wall. While he didn't take a formal stance, the killing intent emanating from him grew thicker by the second.

"Go ahead, mount your steed, Rider. I'll give you that much time."

Rider didn't follow Lancer's suggestion, but she didn't stand idle either.

She remained standing, feet firmly planted on the ground, and in her right hand, which had been empty, a weapon appeared.

It was a scythe, about the same length as Lancer's crimson spear, though far less ornate in design.

Lancer's killing intent became tangible.

"Oh? A Rider who doesn't ride a mount? What's the point? A weakling to begin with, and now you're just a second-rate."

Rider didn't respond. She had nothing to say to her enemy. Even if she did, it wouldn't be through words—it would be through her weapon.

In the next instant, Rider vanished from her spot, her scythe whipping up a vortex of wind.

The black-clad Rider sprinted forward like a bullet blending into the night. No, she was more terrifying than a bullet.

However, Lancer didn't panic in the slightest; in fact, he even had the time to taunt her.

"Fool—"

With perfect timing, Lancer's spear intercepted the scythe in mid-charge.

If Rider was a whirlwind, then Lancer's spear was a storm.

The black bullet came to a halt.

"—A Rider trying to use a spear in front of a Lancer? You really must think little of me."

Lancer's personality was as fiery as his spear technique, closing the distance strike after strike, never relenting.

For a long weapon, closing the distance was usually suicide; the advantage of a spear lies in keeping a distance and controlling the fight.

But that was only the conventional approach, and it didn't apply to this battle.

Their weapons were of equal length, and the distance between them favored neither side's weapon performance.

More importantly, this Lancer was no ordinary Lancer. The usual rules of distance didn't apply to him.

Throat, shoulder, forehead, heart.

There were no gaps in Lancer's crimson spear strikes. It was impossible to see an opening to counterattack.

Strong. Incredibly strong.

In the blink of an eye, the flow of battle had shifted.

Rider, who had initiated the attack, was now being suppressed, drawn into Lancer's rhythm.

Faster. Faster. Even faster.

Lancer's spear accelerated to the point where even its afterimages disappeared.

Under such a ferocious assault, Rider completely lost the initiative, forced to defend herself constantly. If not for her superior strength, she would have been struck down by the crimson spear long ago.

Even so, Rider was struggling, retreating step by step, as the battle shifted from the base of the wall to the plaza in front of the main school building.

One side advanced aggressively.

The other was forced to retreat.

After over a hundred consecutive thrusts, Lancer's storm-like barrage finally showed signs of slowing.

This was only natural. Even a superhuman Servant had their limits. Such an intense offensive couldn't be maintained indefinitely.

Seizing the opportunity, Rider pushed her speed to the limit, retreating quickly.

But Lancer's spear was faster.

"!!!"

A hint of pain appeared on Rider's beautiful face, partially hidden by her blindfold.

The spear had grazed her body. Although it wasn't the sharp tip but rather part of the shaft, the force it carried penetrated deeply into Rider's body.

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While Lancer's earlier attacks had focused on thrusts, the basic use of a spear includes sweeping strikes as well.

The wide arc of a long weapon's sweep is hard to dodge at close range.

If you retreat too slowly, you can't escape the spear's reach. If you try to counterattack and give up dodging, you risk being cut open.

And if you rush forward recklessly, a swing from the spear's shaft can easily break your ribs.

Rider had been misled by Lancer's thrusts and had neglected to guard against the sweeping strike—a mistake that created the perfect opportunity for Lancer to use a powerful sweep.

As it turned out, Lancer had no weaknesses in his spear technique. Whether thrusting or sweeping, he was flawless and unstoppable.

"Miscalculation."

A trace of frustration flashed through Rider's mind. But now was not the time for regret.

Even though the force of the spear had only caused a momentary pause in her movements—something an ordinary person would never even notice—it was enough time for Lancer to close in and strike again.

The ferocious barrage resumed. This time, it wasn't just thrusts—it was a combination of various spear techniques.

Sweeping strikes like a storm, thrusts like a rain of spears.

Not just speed, but overwhelming power.

Not just power, but finesse.

Not just finesse, but instinct.

Body, mind, and technique—Lancer integrated all these into his spear techniques, creating a vacuum-like domain around his crimson spear that no one could penetrate.

Undoubtedly, this was spearcraft worthy of a god.

To match it, one would need divine-level techniques.

Unfortunately, Rider didn't possess such skills. Though her scythe technique was far from poor, and her strength gave her an advantage, it was still too weak in the face of spear strikes that surpassed human limits.

If she were fighting another Lancer, she could rely on her superior agility and mobility to maintain distance and engage in guerrilla tactics. But this Lancer was different, as he pointed out:

"Don't think you can escape. Sure, your overall speed might surpass mine, but in terms of burst speed, you're no match for me. The moment you try to run, my spear will pierce your heart. Though, even if you don't run, the outcome won't change. Maybe if you were on your horse, things would be different, but too bad—I'm not giving you that chance. If you want to blame someone, blame your foolishness!"