"Senpai! Director! Stay behind me! Don't stray!" Mash shouts.
"Enemy attack! Director, protect me!" Rikka cries.
"What are you saying?! Let the Servant guard you!" Olga Marie snaps.
Arrows rain like missiles. Mash, quick to react, shields Rikka and Olga Marie with her massive shield, blocking direct hits.
"Hmph, sharp reflexes. That was close… Doctor!" I call.
"Got it! Scanning for Servant signatures. Looks like an Archer targeting us!" Romani replies.
An Archer, appearing as if to mock my earlier thoughts.
The barrage intensifies, a relentless storm battering Mash's shield.
"Ugh…!" Mash groans.
Despite her slender frame, her skill as a protector is undeniably top-tier.
"Hero King…! I'll protect Master and the Director…! Please, counterattack…!" Mash gasps.
Her resolve won't break easily. "Well said. I leave them to you."
"Go, Mash! Get 'em, Gil!" Rikka cheers.
"Don't lean out, it's dangerous!" Olga Marie scolds.
Time's short. Mash's shield is fortress-like, but her flesh isn't. We'll be overwhelmed if this continues.
I draw a sword from a ripple. Calculating the arrows' trajectory, force, and frequency, I pinpoint the sniper's location.
"No fool escapes my eyes!" I roar.
A beam of light erupts from the sword, vaporizing arrows as it streaks toward the target.
It hits, collapsing a distant ruined building in a spectacular explosion.
"Did you get him?!" Rikka exclaims.
"Don't relax. Destroying a perch won't kill them," I warn.
"Found it! Servant signature! …Wait, you already located them?!" Romani gasps.
"Didn't I say no slacking, fool?!"
"I didn't say I'd outpace you!"
"A rare face, indeed," a voice echoes.
A man cloaked in dark aura appears, exuding menace.
"That's…!" Mash gasps.
"A Shadow Servant! Likely a proper Servant summoned in this Fuyuki!" Romani explains.
Tattered red coat, dark skin, white hair. He looks ragged for a hero, but his killing intent and power are unmistakable.
"To meet like this, Hero King Gilgamesh. Since when do you babysit girls?" he taunts.
"Since recently. You look pathetic, Shadow Servant," I retort.
"You don't even acknowledge me. Not even calling me a faker?"
This vessel and the Shadow Servant share history. He knows me.
I probe the vessel's memories: a Faker, copying and wielding any weapon he sees. No wonder this vessel scorns him—mimicking my supreme treasures is an affront.
"A vagrant's garb, an assassin's attack… no acquaintance of mine would stoop so low, fool."
"Your words lack your usual ease, Hero King. Where's your trademark arrogance?"
"Perhaps I'm in a mood. My actions don't concern a faker like you."
"Fair enough. I'll do my job—!"
He leaps skyward, bow drawn, ready to unleash another arrow storm.
"Taking distance? Typical. A true Archer stands firm. That's why you're a fake!"
"I've no interest in your pride!"
Arrows rain down, each a lethal strike, hammering Mash's shield with brutal force.
"Ugh…!" Mash groans, her limit approaching.
This won't do. Staying defensive will break us first.
But how to strike? A decisive blow exists, but revealing my trump card could disadvantage us later.
"Gil!" Rikka shouts from behind the shield.
"Fujimaru, stay back! What are you thinking?!" Olga Marie yells.
"Gil! He's an Archer too!"
"You gonna let him outshine you?!"
Her words sting.
"Eye for eye, tooth for tooth! Bow for bow!"
My earlier plan resurfaces: fight like an Archer, with a bow.
"Hah! Quoting Hammurabi's code to me, cheeky girl?!"
"You won't lose! You're the Hero King!"
"I believe in you! You and Mash are my Servants!"
"Senpai…" Mash whispers.
Believe in me, she says. A half-baked fighter, barely acquainted, yet she trusts me.
It's dazzling. Trusting someone in a death trap, unafraid to entrust life to a comrade.
Even if it leads to doom, she'd accept it with a smile. That's what trust means.
This is a fitting place for my reincarnation.
"No taking that back," I say, genuinely wanting to meet her faith.
I'll fulfill my wish as a Servant—to achieve something.
I won't let this girl's world-saving journey end here.
That's the meaning etched into this nameless soul!
I reach into the golden ripple, seizing a treasure with resolve.
"What's that?" the Faker asks.
A radiant golden bow-like form, stringless, arrowless, with gems orbiting it—an odd sight.
"What else but a bow, fool?"
I aim it at the Faker. The gems burst, scattering fragments across the area.
"A bow of light from humanity's distant future. No string, no arrow, yet it pierces flawlessly."
"A bow of light?! An Oopart in his arsenal?!" Romani exclaims.
"So… beautiful…" Rikka murmurs.
(This crystal, this bow of light… no way—!) the Faker thinks.
"Learn the difference between true and fake. No arrogance, no carelessness. This shot will pierce your Spirit Core."
"—!"
Sensing mortal danger, the Faker disperses into mist. But I'm not so lenient as to let an insolent foe escape.
"No matter where you flee, you won't escape! Evade this, and you'd need to surpass light itself!"
The bow charges with immense energy, gems reflecting blinding light, illuminating the area like dawn.
"Senpai, close your eyes!" Mash warns.
"—!" the Faker grunts.
"Receive it—the majesty of the genuine!"
The arrow of light, charged to critical, fires. Locked onto the Faker's position by my eyes, it streaks through the sky, consuming obstacles, its gem-reflected trajectory unerring.
Its radiance allows no escape.
(To face a Hero King without a trace of arrogance… my luck is rotten—)
The Faker's self-mocking thought is cut short as he vanishes into the light.
Shining Laser. The enemy dies.
If you have the tools, wield them without hesitation.
No room for carelessness or arrogance!