"That woman—she's the one you're so determined to protect, isn't she? A friend? A lover? Or perhaps... family?"
Hearing Selene's teasing words and noticing her gaze, Achilles was instantly overcome with a sense of foreboding.
She's targeting missy?!
"Missy! The enemy Rider of Black is aiming for you! Be careful!!" Achilles shouted, immediately lunging toward Atalanta, who was sheltered behind his shield.
Achilles had been keeping a close eye on every motion of this violent goddess. From the moment Selene manifested her Noble Phantasm—a massive black-and-white lance—he had instantly deduced her Class.
Even though he hadn't seen such long lances during his lifetime in the Trojan War of ancient Greece, the knowledge bestowed by the Greater Grail upon every summoned Heroic Spirit told him clearly: this was a cavalry weapon.
A goddess of the Rider Class, same as me...
He couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride. As expected of me, Achilles! Even if I wasn't summoned as one of the three knight classes, I'm still among the strongest Servants. Look—even the enemy's strongest Servant is also a Rider!
"What a nuisance... the limitations on a Heroic Spirit manifesting through legend-based data projection are just too many. A massive output cap, and even casting a large-scale skill requires a Noble Phantasm chant or medium..."
Selene gripped the shaft of Abyss Flower, raising it as she thought to herself, Well, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Long, ornate, and overly poetic Noble Phantasm chants are a hallmark of the Type-Moon world, after all.
Indeed, the weapon in Selene's hands—Abyss Flower—was modeled after the Key of Creation from the Honkai world: the Sixth Divine Key forged from the Herrscher Core of Death.
Like its original counterpart, it held the power to reverse the authority of the Herrscher of Death.
At a glance, it appeared as a pristine white knight's lance, but it was, in truth, composed of two parts: the outer white lance, White Flower, and the inner black spear, Black Abyss.
Black Abyss inherited the Herrscher of Death's authority over "Death," granting it disintegration power; White Flower inherited the authority of "Life," allowing regeneration.
Of course, the version Selene wielded now was a projection of her original artifact—constructed by the Throne of Heroes, formed from her legend and the spiritual power she carried.
The true original remained in the Honkai world, while her enhanced Plus version of Abyss Flower was still in the hands of Selene's true body within the Honkai Dimension.
"I am the black that devours all, and the white that births all; (Ich bin das Schwarz auch das Weiß)"
Clutching the lance with both hands, Selene opened her deep, terrifying crimson eyes.
"Born before creation, existing after oblivion; (Vor dem Beginn und zwar nach der Ende)"
As she chanted, purple-red mana surged around her like thunder, crackling with violent arcs of light.
From the black-violet tip of her weapon, radiant streams of light began to emerge. Countless platinum runes surfaced upon the lance, transforming into dazzling motes that spiraled around the weapon, rotating faster and faster like a massive drill, whipping up a terrifying gale.
Light and darkness; sanctity and corruption; vitality and death; terror and serenity...
The purple-red mana radiating from Selene's Heroic Spirit form—so close to that of Honkai energy—merged seamlessly with the divine brilliance emanating from Abyss Flower.
"What a magnificent sight. Perhaps this is what a true divine sovereign should look like—creation and destruction intertwined, mercy and cruelty coexisting..."
Guarded by golden-armored soldiers retreating to a safe distance, Caster of Black—Avicebron turned and looked upon Selene's radiance with sincere awe.
At that very moment, though everyone's minds were awash with thought, only a few seconds had actually passed in reality.
For Achilles, there was no admiration—only a trembling that ran through his very soul.
Because no matter how dazzling this display was, there was one terrifying truth that crushed any sense of awe within him.
That attack was coming straight for him.
"Black Abyss, White Flower—Anchor Up—!"
As Selene finished the chant, her eyes narrowed sharply—and in the next instant, an invisible force burst outward!
It was like a miniature nuclear explosion detonating midair. A shockwave expanded in a massive fan-shaped wave—no fire, no debris—only a visible wall of air roaring outward, the atmosphere twisting into rippling waves of distortion!
"—Holy Lance, Bloom! (Heilige Lanze, Blüte!)"
Whummmm—!!!
A blinding radiance erupted with the might of an avalanche, spreading outward with overwhelming force.
In an instant, much of the forested terrain surrounding the Fortress of Millennia shattered to dust. Countless ancient trees, which would have taken centuries to grow, were torn from the ground, flung into the sky, and shredded into clouds of drifting ash by the raging shockwave!
"The Miniature World Enclosed by the Azure Sky—Akhilleus Kosmos!!!"
Faced with the all-erasing assault, Achilles roared, raising his shield without hesitation!
At once, a brilliant green light flared forth. The miniature world engraved upon his shield began to turn—expanding, manifesting. Before him unfolded a complete microcosm—a realm of ancient Greek cities, seas, and sky, reconstructed from his perception of the world, bending space and time itself.
Projected upon its surface was the world as Achilles knew it, surrounded by surging tides—the realm that represented his very existence. It was a defensive Noble Phantasm that embodied the world he once lived in.
The next instant—
Rumble—Rumble—Rumble—!!
The light of Death and Life unleashed by Abyss Flower crashed into that constructed world, consuming it with the terrifying might of finality itself.
The sound that followed could no longer be described by words—it transcended noise. Even sound itself was devoured by the clash of spear and shield.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Under the relentless radiance, the "Miniature World" began to wither, collapsing piece by piece like a grinding millstone wearing down under immense pressure.
"As expected... a defensive-type Noble Phantasm barrier on par with 'Rho Aias'... Based on the system's calculation, my attack should cancel with it—just as Karna's Vasavi Shakti does."
Selene murmured quietly, showing no surprise as her attack was neutralized. After all, she was but a projection, while Achilles' shield was one of the top-tier defensive Noble Phantasms in this world. It would not do for it to fall so easily.
That shield had been forged by the god of smithing, Hephaestus, at the plea of Achilles' mother—the sea goddess Thetis—after her son had lost his armor.
The legendary Greek epic Iliad had devoted hundreds of lines to describing this very shield.
Engraved upon its surface were the heavens, the earth, and the sea; the sun, the moon, and the stars; gods, nations, and men; warriors, thieves, and beasts; songs, life, and death—all surrounded by the endless ocean, Okeanos.
To stand before that shield was to stand against the world itself. Once deployed, it could defend against any assault—whether Anti-Unit, Anti-Army, Anti-City, Anti-Nation, or even Anti-Divine Noble Phantasms.
Only now did the echoing rumble spread outward, rolling through the sky like endless thunder.
The disturbance was so vast that even with the people-clearing field active, the citizens of Trifas could see the terrifying spectacle as if a natural disaster had descended upon them.
Those unfortunate enough to be near the forested outskirts froze in terror—then fled, weeping and screaming, toward the opposite direction!
"The only thing capable of resisting a god's unleashed weapon is a defensive Noble Phantasm that embodies the world itself."
Achilles' arm trembled violently under the strain, yet a wild grin spread across his face. He had done it—he had held the line.
As the radiance finally dissipated, the destruction left behind was catastrophic. Even though his Noble Phantasm had barely managed to block Selene's attack, nearly half of the forested area around the fortress was gone.
Beneath Achilles' feet stretched a colossal crater. The surroundings were littered with devastation—once-lush woods now reduced to barren plains.
The ground, eroded smooth by the disintegration effect, shone eerily under the moonlight. Craters and pits—some spanning over a hundred meters—covered the landscape, making it look like the surface of the moon.
His legs buried deep into the shattered earth, Achilles turned his head and said hoarsely, "Missy, get out of here. Don't worry about me. I know we'll have to fight eventually... but this time, this whole mess is on me. I'll clean it up myself."
He knew it was his careless tone—his flippant words—that had provoked the wrath of the divine being before him. Cursing himself inwardly, Achilles thought bitterly, Damn it... why can't I ever shut up? Same in life, same after death... even as a Heroic Spirit, I can't fix this damn mouth of mine...
"...All right. Be careful, then..."
Atalanta nodded gently, but before she could finish her words—
Swish!
Thud!
"Leaving? It won't be that easy."
Accompanied by a cold, imperious voice, a silver-white figure surged forth from behind, cloaked in a torrent of compressed air.
Damn it—wasn't that woman standing still just now?! A clone—or an illusion?!
His stance had been oriented toward the front. From this rear-side attack, he couldn't counter, but with his A-rank Noble Phantasm, Comet Run, evasion shouldn't have been a problem.
But Selene had chosen this moment precisely because Atalanta was there—Achilles didn't dare gamble, didn't dare evade.
In an instant, Selene's figure, holding her gleaming lance, appeared right behind Atalanta.
"Missy!"
Clang!
Targeting the Archer of Red—Atalanta—whose body had no time to react, Selene thrust her lance forward. In that instant, the air cracked with an ear-splitting detonation, a supercompressed explosion that tore apart the surrounding atmosphere. The shockwave itself boomed like thunder as it broke the sound barrier with ease.
Achilles, if you dodge—she dies. I'm certain you'll choose to take the blow yourself.
The lance tip, carrying the powers of Death and Life, roared forward faster than sound—piercing toward Atalanta's chest without hesitation.
Swish!
The holy lance pierced through—blood scattered in the air!
Halting her momentum, Selene turned slightly. Hmm. That sensation just now... it felt like I pierced two bodies at once.
"Achilles, that was the most foolish choice you could've made..." she murmured, turning around slowly.
Before her lay both Achilles and Atalanta, collapsed beside the long trench carved by her lance.
Atalanta's wound was grave—one arm torn clean off—but Achilles' condition was far worse. Half of his left shoulder was simply gone, and dark violet energy—the essence of Death—continued to corrode his supposedly undying body.
The huntress, like a wounded wildcat, forced herself up on one arm, glaring at Selene with feral defiance.
Cough... cough... "As expected... you are a divine being, manifested as a Heroic Spirit. Even my blessed body can't reduce the damage from your attacks..."
He forced out a hoarse laugh, his lungs pierced through. "As for my choice... this is my choice. You need not concern yourself, Goddess..." His breath hitched in pain. "A mere fatal wound... hardly enough to kill me."
After venting her rage through battle, Selene's anger had largely cooled. Truth be told, aside from certain flaws, Achilles didn't leave her with a bad impression. Though she fully intended to kill him, she didn't mind indulging him with a few words first.
"Hmph. Still trying to sound tough... Very well, I've had my fun. Achilles. Atalanta. The game... is over."
Cough... hiss... "This time, it's true—I've lost." Gritting his teeth, Achilles pressed a hand over the massive wound that refused to heal. Struggling to his feet, slightly hunched, he still managed a faint smile.
"I'd love to continue this fight, but... it seems my Master isn't ready to let me die yet. Sorry, Goddess—it looks like our duel will have to wait for next time."
Even as he spoke, his body began to blur—fading, as spatial ripples distorted his form.
"Oh? You think so? Then stay and accompany me—"
"—Honkai Dimension!"
Snap!
With a sly smile, Selene snapped her fingers. The ground beneath her feet lit up with purple-red light, spreading outward in pulsating waves. The soil began to writhe unnaturally, as tendrils of condensed mana rose like the tentacles of an octopus, reaching toward the two Servants.
"You should know—even if your Master uses a Command Spell for spatial transfer, I can still intercept it by force."
Seeing this, Achilles' face hardened. Summoning every last ounce of strength, he kicked Atalanta away with all his might. "Missy! Take my final blessing—and fulfill your wish!"
"No! Don't! Achilles!!"
Whummm!
In the moment before Selene's tendrils could seize her, a flash of Command Spell activation triggered—a second teleportation—and Atalanta vanished midair.
But Achilles... his spiritual core was damaged, his mind and body exhausted, his spirit form broken. The withering power gnawed at him relentlessly, devouring his remaining mana. Even a hero of his caliber could not endure it. He fell forward, plunging into the sea of violet-red tendrils.
"Well, a third-rate archer isn't worth the trouble. But you... Greek demigod Achilles... I just thought of an amusing experiment."
Her crimson eyes gleamed with an eerie light.
"My little test subject..."
Does she intend to control me—to make me fight for her?
With that bitter thought—and a flash of regret for his companion—Achilles' vision went black, and he sank into darkness.