"Not even a Master, yet he presumes to command us as one—utterly infuriating!"
Atalanta muttered furiously as she raced through the forest, seething at the priest who dared issue orders in place of her absent Master.
Being manipulated like this—treated as little more than a pawn—made her long to draw her bow against Assassin immediately.
Yet she had a wish to entrust to the Holy Grail. She could only swallow her indignation and obey the priest's detestable instructions.
"We haven't even met our Masters yet, huh, Missy?"
Achilles, running beside Atalanta, wholeheartedly agreed. He too despised the sensation of being someone else's puppet.
If not for the constraints of being allies, he'd have already rebelled openly. But due to various circumstances, both he and Atalanta found themselves forced to obey a figure they both loathed.
"Rider, don't slow yourself down on my account. Supporting Saber as quickly as possible is our first priority. There's no reason to waste time on me. My legs might not match yours, but don't underestimate my speed."
Seeing Achilles still running alongside her, Atalanta issued a firm reminder. She knew Achilles had deliberately reduced his pace to match hers.
Yet she was once a huntress who had never lost a footrace. When it came to pure speed, she wouldn't fall far behind him at all.
"But, Missy—your injuries!"
Achilles didn't doubt her capabilities. Since childhood, he'd heard stories of how his father had wrestled against her—and lost spectacularly. That had become one of his father's unforgettable memories, instilling a sense of admiration toward Atalanta in Achilles as well.
But yesterday's battle had left Atalanta severely poisoned. She'd only begun to recover this morning. Achilles had waited for her to awaken before chasing after the rampaging Berserker.
Without Atalanta persistently trying to talk sense into Berserker, Achilles quickly abandoned any notion of stopping him. If Berserker wanted to throw himself headlong at the enemy, then let him. Achilles wasn't about to forcefully restrain him and ignite an internal battle among the Red faction.
Atalanta's lingering injuries hadn't come solely from Shirou Emiya's [Murasame]. Rather, Assassin of Black's venom had consumed [Murasame]'s poison and intensified its grip on her body, worsening the damage.
Although Assassin and her Master later provided treatment, the poison's lingering effects remained significant.
Yet, Atalanta didn't resent Assassin for this. Without Assassin's intervention, she might have been the first Servant to fall in this Grail War.
"Don't worry about me. According to Assassin's Master, King Arthur is also there. Perfect timing—I have unfinished business with his Master."
Atalanta gritted her teeth bitterly.
The bow Atalanta wielded—[Tauropolos], the Celestial Bow—was a divine weapon bestowed upon her by Artemis herself.
It allowed her to control the trajectory of arrows with magical energy. Drawn to full capacity, it could elevate even ordinary arrows to an A-Rank destructive force.
With additional magical energy, its destructive power was comparable to missiles—something even the Red Lancer couldn't afford to ignore.
Even if Shirou Emiya's [Incursio] concentrated all its defenses into a single point, it would be powerless against her full-powered strike.
But Atalanta, proud as a heroic spirit, previously saw no reason to waste full strength on a mere magus.
Even on her second shot, she'd refused to draw her bow fully, inadvertently giving Shirou Emiya a chance to deploy his defenses.
Thus, even her A-Rank attack merely pierced through eight layers of the armor shielding Shirou, which then rapidly regenerated. Unless she could penetrate the shield entirely in one go, Atalanta couldn't harm Shirou Emiya at all.
But this time, she intended to use full power from the start.
"So, this is Assassin of Black's Noble Phantasm?"
Atop a distant building over a kilometer from the fog-enshrouded battlefield, the huntress clad in emerald-green watched the chaos unfold with cold precision.
Even with her [Clairvoyance], Atalanta couldn't clearly penetrate the dense mist. She could only gauge the general positions by observing the swirling clouds.
BOOM—!
Suddenly, a section of the fog dispersed violently, revealing a figure with delicate pink hair astride an impossible creature—a griffin above, horse below—charging straight into the battlefield, scattering the mist everywhere.
"To involve such a small child in the Holy Grail War..."
Atalanta's eyes filled with pity as she watched the silver-haired girl knocked aside by the pink-haired Rider.
Seeing the child's pain-filled expression, Atalanta's gaze sharpened with anger, glaring fiercely at Rider of Black as the fog slowly enveloped the battlefield again.
She couldn't shoot yet—there were too many unknown factors: the unclear strength of the Rider, the obscuring fog, the presence of Saber of Red's Master close to Shirou Emiya.
As a huntress, accuracy wasn't the only virtue required—supreme patience was vital as well. Only through patience could one seize the most prized prey.
And soon, the perfect moment presented itself.
Shirou Emiya, mounted upon Rider's steed, reunited with Arthur. Such a moment was exactly the right opportunity to unleash her Noble Phantasm.
"It's over!"
With these words, Atalanta raised her bow, aiming directly at the moon.
Her eyes became sharp, deadly.
"With this bow of mine, I petition Apollo and Artemis for their divine protection!"
Two arrows gleamed brightly, radiating intense magical power.
Atalanta's Noble Phantasm was neither the bow itself nor the arrows she fired—it was the embodiment of the very concept of "drawing and releasing the bowstring."
Using the Celestial Bow, granted to her by her protector Artemis, she fired arrows imbued with a written plea—a request for divine blessing from Apollo and Artemis.
The destructive deities answered by granting her arrows power in the form of calamity, raining countless shafts of pure light from the heavens onto the battlefield below in an all-encompassing attack.
Thus, what Atalanta was about to unleash was simple yet devastating:
"I offer forth this calamity!"
Like a brilliant firework ascending into the night sky, a meteor glowing emerald-green surged upward, carrying tremendous magical energy as it vanished into the moonlight above.
At that instant, Atalanta's Noble Phantasm was unleashed.
Its name was—
"[Phoebus Catastrophe]!"
The moment she invoked its True Name, dazzling rays of divine power surged forth, directed downwards along the moonbeams, focusing precisely on Shirou Emiya's position.
Thus, in that instant, disaster descended from the heavens!