AWB Chapter 60 Senior Brother
Chapter 60 Senior Brother
The scorching heat at the top of the TV tower hissed in the cold wind.
The steel structure, burned through by the sword in the lake, is slowly cooling, and the honeycomb-like holes that have been melted are filled with the night wind from high above, emitting a very faint whistling sound.
Not far from the TV tower, the dark golden light deep within Arthur's eyes suddenly contracted.
Something was approaching at high speed, so fast that Long Tong's normal perception almost mistook it for a "projection" rather than a "person".
Arthur stopped and placed his right hand back on the hilt of his sword.
"To dare to swagger closer after such a commotion is truly the behavior of a martial artist."
"Wow, such a commotion in bustling Tokyo, I thought some deity had descended."
The voice came from above, flippant yet sharp.
Arthur didn't look up. At the top of the crane, a figure leaped down nimbly, wearing dark blue tight-fitting armor and carrying a crimson spear.
Cú Chulainn landed on the steel beam at the edge of the tower, his toes barely touching the ground, and the joints of his armor made no sound.
The gun tip pointed diagonally to the ground, and an ominous red light flowed across the gun body.
Her short blue hair was blown back by the night wind high in the sky, the blue gemstone pendant by her ear shone slightly, and her beast-like eyes gleamed in the shadows.
Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone carrying a hint of familiarity, "Long time no see, Ireland's Son of Light, or rather... my senior brother."
Upon hearing this, Cú Chulainn let out a helpless smile.
"Hey, don't use that name. Just thinking about that 'old woman' who hides in the corner of the Land of Shadows and lectures people makes my herniated discs start to ache."
He moved his shoulders, and his cervical spine made a slight clicking sound.
"However, I never expected that besides those few Celtic madmen, there would actually be someone who could take over the secret technique of 'Godslaying' from Scáthach alive."
"I didn't have a chance to ask at the pumping station last time, how many shots did she shoot you?"
"countless."
"That's right." Cú Chulainn grinned. "I can't count them either."
The night wind high above passed between the two people, carrying away the suffocating smell and into the neon-lit depths of the city.
Cú Chulainn's blue gemstone pendant on his ear flashed, and the rhythm of the light changed.
Upon receiving the order, Cú Chulainn's gaze changed briefly, transforming from that of a "senior fellow disciple reminiscing" to that of a "servant carrying out the order."
He sighed.
"Lancer, enough of this nonsense." A cold, arrogant voice, carrying an unquestionable authority, echoed in Cú Chulainn's mind.
"That man didn't have the emptiness of a Servant, but the power of the Noble Phantasm he just released far exceeded the norm."
Test him, and if possible, eliminate him outright. I cannot allow such a huge variable to exist in the Holy Grail War.
Cú Chulainn resumed his usual tone, "Tsk, what a strict young lady."
Arthur looked at him.
Cú Chulainn's wrist twitched slightly, and the tip of his spear lightly touched the ground.
"My king, your leisure time is over." His voice regained its sharpness, and his eyes locked onto Arthur.
"Although we share some kinship, since we're all working for that young lady, this fight is unavoidable."
Arthur drew the sword from the lake, and the lake-blue light on the blade shone in the scorching air. The power of the Wind King's barrier began to swirl around the edge of the blade, emitting a low roar.
He didn't use the true form of the holy sword; he intended to use swordsmanship, something Scáthach had taught him, something Cú Chulainn had also learned.
"Since it is your Master's will, I understand." The sword tip rose half an inch. "Come on, let me see if your spear is as sharp as the legends say."
"ha!"
The steel beam beneath Cú Chulainn's feet shattered instantly, and he transformed into a streak of blue light.
The crimson spear, like a venomous snake spitting its tongue, aimed straight for Arthur's throat with its first thrust, showing no mercy, no probing, but going all out.
Arthur turned to the side, the tip of the spear grazing his neck, less than a finger's width away. He did not retreat, and the sword in the lake slashed along the shaft of the spear toward Cú Chulainn's fingers.
Cú Chulainn sheathed his spear, flicked the butt of the spear upwards to parry the sword's edge, and simultaneously used the momentum to flip in the air, bringing his second spear down from above his head.
Arthur drew his sword, and the gun and sword clashed, the sound of metal striking metal echoing through the sky, creating a visible shockwave in the night air.
It's not a clash of magic, it's pure "force".
The dragon's power from the Dragon's Furnace clashed head-on with the arm strength of Cú Chulainn's demigod body between swords and spears.
The next instant, Cú Chulainn was launched into the air, and the ground beneath Arthur's feet sank slightly.
Cú Chulainn flipped in the air, his figure reflecting an eerie angle—the protection against arrows.
He abandoned all unnecessary movements, and his entire being became a "flying object" that existed only in ballistic calculations.
Without any warning, without any sign of muscle contraction, the crimson spear thrust in from three directions simultaneously.
Arthur's Dragon Force River was fully deployed. He heard the sound of the wind being pierced by the spear tip, the smell of the air being heated by high-speed friction, and the frequency of Cú Chulainn's heartbeat.
Of the three shots, two were afterimages, and only one was real.
Arthur took a half step to the left, the tip of his spear grazing his right shoulder armor and leaving a shallow mark on the blue and white armor.
At the same instant, the sword in the lake was already slashing towards Cú Chulainn's wrist. Cú Chulainn withdrew his spear to parry, and the blade of the sword collided with the shaft of the spear.
The second metallic clang was shorter and muffled than the first, like an anvil being hammered into place.
Cú Chulainn used the momentum to spring backward, crouching on top of the lamp stand. His short blue hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his beast-like eyes reflected Arthur's figure holding a sword.
Cú Chulainn's expression changed. He recognized that Arthur's sword strike just now hadn't used magic; it was purely a matter of wrist strength, footwork, and sword intent.
But there was something in that sword strike that sent chills down his spine.
Not a single ounce of magic is wasted, not a single aftershock is produced; every move is designed to "finish".
That was something he had learned in the Land of Shadows, but had never been able to fully master.
The swordsmanship of a god-slaying master meant that the person was already dead the moment the gun fired.
His gun always carried the sound of wind, magic, and the roar of his demigod bloodline.
He killed quickly, but he had never killed "quietly." Now he saw it: Arthur's sword was still.
"No wonder that old woman took a liking to him."
Cú Chulainn's voice deepened as he half-squatted on the lamp stand, his entire body's magic beginning to converge on the red spear.
"He actually managed to incorporate that kind of swordsmanship into it."
Arthur's pupils contracted slightly; the furnace core sensed that the causality in the atmosphere was being distorted.
It is not the flow of magic, nor the vibration of the air.
That crimson spear yearns for his heart.
The Spear That Pierces Death Thorns, Cú Chulainn's Noble Phantasm.
"It's a pity, but I'll just fall here!"
Cú Chulainn's eyes burned in the shadows, a deep, primal crimson from the very depths of his demigod bloodline.
"Piercing—The Spear of Death!"
A red meteor streaked across the night sky, and the tip of the gun itself became cause and effect.
The process of "thrusting the heart" came first, and then the process of "throwing the spear" followed.
You can't avoid it, because before you even think of "avoiding," your heart has already been pierced—this is the violence of causality.
Arthur didn't dodge; he stood still, and the four-beat rhythm of the Dragon's Heart suddenly changed to one beat.
More than forty dragon power channels simultaneously contracted inward, pouring all the dragon power back into the furnace core. After the furnace core was compressed to its limit, he released it.
Golden magic exploded from his chest, and half a foot in front of him, the magic was compressed into a nearly tangible shield.
It is not a magical barrier, but a "concept" that originates from the deepest part of the furnace—the radiance of stars.
The crimson spear pierced the shield, but the tip stopped ten centimeters from Arthur's chest.
The cause and effect have been severed.
Arthur's longsword drew a perfect arc, slashing at the causal link between the spear tip and the result of "piercing the heart".
The blade of the sword in the lake sliced through the distorted causal ripples, like cutting through a string that had been stretched too tight.
The string snapped, and the backlash of causality flowed back along the crimson spear, numbing Cú Chulainn's tiger's mouth and causing his entire right arm to tremble.
The red light faded from the tip of the spear.
The night wind blew in again from high above, and the scorching steel beams made a faint, cooling sound in the wind.
Cú Chulainn gripped the gun, blood seeping from his hand, and looked at Arthur with shock in his eyes.
"Using swordsmanship... interfered with cause and effect." His voice was very soft.
It's not about "severing" cause and effect; severing is a technique used to kill gods on others.
"Intervention" is using one's own will and principles to cut a hole in an inevitable fate.
Misaya Reirōkan, who was watching the battle from a distance, saw all of this through her familiar, and her pupils contracted sharply.
Arthur's combat prowess has completely surpassed her understanding of "servants" or "heroes".
It's not a difference in magical power, nor a difference in the quality of Noble Phantasms.
Her servant, Cú Chulainn, the Child of Light of Ireland and one of the strongest disciples of the Land of Shadows, is, in her eyes, an ace up against any servant.
But this man thwarted Cú Chulainn's deadly shot with his swordsmanship.
He didn't even use his Noble Phantasm, he just used one sword strike.
"Enough, Lancer! Come back!" Misaya Reirōkan's voice exploded in Cú Chulainn's mind. "You can't beat him now."
"Hey, Miss, I haven't..."
"This is an order! In the name of the Command Seal—return to my side!"
The Command Seals on the back of Cú Chulainn's hand flickered, forcibly recalling him, and space began to distort around him, like a crumpled transparent film.
His body began to blur, starting from the edges, gradually being pulled into the folds of space.
He looked at Arthur with resentment, the crimson spear still clutched in his hand, the blood from his hand still wet.
Then he laughed, a helpless laugh, like the kind of laugh that comes from having his junior sister steal the last piece of meat.
"It seems our reminiscing has to end here, Arthur." His voice was broken and fragmented by the distortion of space, but his tone remained the same as always.
"Next time we meet, I won't let you block my gun so easily again."
Arthur sheathed the sword in the lake, the lake-blue light on its blade quietly receding. He watched Cú Chulainn's figure gradually disappear and nodded.
"I'm looking forward to it too, senior."
Cú Chulainn grinned, and then the space suddenly contracted, his figure disappearing completely into the folds.
Night fell silent again. Arthur looked down at his palm. There was a barely perceptible red mark on the web of his right hand, left by the recoil of the sword hilt when he severed the cause and effect.
Fighting Cú Chulainn still left him feeling somewhat exhausted.
"Interfering with cause and effect" itself is very costly. Severing cause and effect requires a sword, while interfering with cause and effect requires willpower.
The strain on my willpower was too great.
He placed his hand on his chest, and the rhythm of the Dragon's Furnace was slowly returning to four beats from one beat.
In the river channel at Meili's anchor point, a silvery-white light shone quietly, and movement came from the anchor point channel.
It's like saying... I see, you're fighting.
At the same time, that very pale blue light also lit up, and Ai Ge heard it too.
"The heroes of the Holy Grail War... are indeed not to be underestimated."
Arthur turned his head and looked at the huge, modern building not far away, the penthouse of a skyscraper in the center of the new city district.
Deep within the dragon's eyes, a heavy golden light was burning quietly, like a person sitting on a throne, waiting for guests to come to him.
Gilgamesh, the Hero King, remained motionless, saying he would bring the most precious treasures from his treasury in exchange, and then sat on the top floor of that building.
After waiting for so many days and watching so many battles, he still hasn't made a move.