Chapter 55: Where Heroes Fall
The wind howled like a mourning spirit, carrying the stench of blood and steel across the broken land.
High above the battlefield, Rin stood on a cliffside ledge overlooking the vast, shifting plains of war.
Her arms were crossed tightly beneath her chest, knuckles white, the cold wind pulling at her jacket and long, dark hair.
Beside her, Cú Chulainn rested a hand on his spear while Fergus stood with a somber expression, watching the chaos below.
Riya, their ally, their wildcard—was facing an impossible situation.
She clicked her tongue in irritation, though the tremor in her voice betrayed the tight knot forming in her stomach.
"That idiot... what does he think he's doing, charging in like that? He's going to get himself killed," she muttered.
Cú Chulainn offered a wry smile. "He's a fool, but he's not stupid."
"There's a difference."
"Still... even if I wanted to help..." Rin glanced at her Servants, then back toward the field where the battle would soon begin.
Her fingers twitched. "If I interfere, Lyle will seize my Command Seals and make you his..."
"It's like he's planned everything out."
...
Fergus turned his gaze to her. "There may still be a way."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you talking about, old man?"
"Don't start one of your stupid speeches."
But before Fergus could speak, Cú Chulainn stepped between them.
His voice was quiet but resolute. "Rin. Trust him."
Rin's brows furrowed.
She didn't like this.
She hated this.
But she said nothing more as Fergus turned away and disappeared into the wind.
Below, dust swirled over scorched earth as Riya faced the approaching army.
Three hundred.
That was the number.
They moved like a tide—disciplined, merciless, organized.
A small legion of faceless warriors—Shadows, men enhanced beyond recognition.
And among them… eight twisted remnants of once-proud heroes.
Shadow Servants.
And at the forefront, like a wall of iron will, stood Leonidas.
Riya's boots crushed the gravel beneath his feet as he took a single step forward.
The wind blew across the battlefield, stirring his coat as his eyes scanned the force before him.
A normal man would run.
A wise man would retreat.
But Riya just smirked.
He let out a breath, closed his eyes briefly, and focused inward.
Deep within, the threads of connection stirred—those bonds he'd forged in the intimacy of night, forged through desire and fate.
Ten Servants.
Ten women.
Ten sources of power.
But today, he needed just one.
Maybe two.
His hand moved, glowing faintly with magical light as the power of Atalanta surged through him.
The goddess's huntress spirit flowed into his veins like a wild current, focused, fierce, and pure.
His eyes shimmered with green light, and at last, the sacred bow of Tauropolos formed in his hands.
Riya drew two arrows and lifted the bow toward the heavens.
With my bow and arrows, I pray for the protection of the God Apollo and Goddess Artemis.
He whispered the words like a prayer.
I offer thee this Calamity—
His muscles tensed.
The sky above seemed to darken in anticipation.
Phoebus Catastrophe!!
The arrows ignited with divine light as they soared skyward, trailing ribbons of burning silver and gold.
Silence fell for a breath—then the sky answered.
First came a hum, then a roar like thunder, and then it began: a rain of arrows, glimmering like falling stars, descending upon the enemy ranks.
The arrows struck like meteors.
The front lines screamed, twisted, and fell.
Armor cracked.
Shields splintered.
Bodies collapsed into dust and flame.
A hundred fell in mere moments.
The smell of scorched metal and burning flesh filled the air.
Riya exhaled, already preparing himself to shift to the next power.
His mind turned toward Suzuka Gozen.
But then—
He felt it.
A presence behind him.
Too late.
A shadow.
A flash of movement.
A spear.
A heartbeat away from his back.
Leonidas.
Riya's body froze, instincts screaming—he couldn't dodge, couldn't deflect, couldn't—
SPLURCH.
The sound of a blade tearing through flesh.
Blood splattered across the ground.
But it wasn't his.
Leonidas' eyes widened, his mouth opening in shock as he staggered back.
A large hole had been bored into his chest—burned through by a sword that spiraled like a drill.
Fergus stood behind him, blood dripping from his blade.
Riya blinked. "Fergus…?"
He wanted to say more.
But Fergus didn't let him.
With a grim smile, Fergus turned the blade inward and pierced his own heart.
Blood poured down his chest.
"No!!" Rin's voice echoed from above, distant and raw.
"No… no, this can't be happening…" she whispered, eyes wide, frozen in place.
Fergus fell to his knees, then looked up at Riya one last time.
"Rin couldn't interfere… but I could."
"One more moment and Lyle would've taken me."
"But I couldn't let the man Rin… cares for… die."
"So this is the only way."
He coughed, blood flecking his lips.
"Please."
"Protect Rin for me."
His body fell to the side, still and silent.
Up above, Rin watched, unable to hold back the tear that slipped down her cheek.
"You idiot... Why did you have to go and do that...?"
Her fists trembled at her sides, nails digging into her palms as her voice broke into a silent sob.
Below, Riya stood still, the moment sinking into his chest like a weight.
Then, slowly, his expression hardened.
His fists clenched.
His deadened eyes opened with new fire.
The golden energy of Suzuka's connection surged into him, radiant and furious.
The ground trembled as his aura expanded.
He turned his gaze toward the remaining soldiers, golden energy crackling to life around him like a rising storm.
His eyes, once dull with shock, now burned with fury—unyielding, unrelenting.
"I'm going to make Lyle pay," he growled, each word a vow carved into the battlefield itself.
His path forward was clear—and it led to vengeance.