Shinji Matou At Your Service - Chapter 467: Red vs. Black Showdown · Father-Son (Mother-Daughter) Rematch

The shotgun roared, spitting out two enchanted bullets crafted from a magi’s fingers. They traced an erratic arc through the air, whistling towards the hind legs of Dun Stallion.

That’s right, Sisigou wasn’t aiming for Artoria or Jeanne, because he knew both had extremely high magic resistance. Even if he used the most powerful magecraft passed down in his family, crafted from the rarest materials, he wouldn’t be able to break through their defenses.

The white horse they rode, however, was not so fortunate.

Dun Stallion was neither a Noble Phantasm nor a magical beast. Even without considering the curses attached to the bullets, the subsonic impact alone would be enough to inflict significant harm. If the bullets hit the horse’s legs, Dun Stallion would lose its prized speed.

Sisigou’s attacks were always precise and calculated, a testament to his years as a seasoned mercenary on the battlefield.

But Jeanne and Artoria were no less experienced. The moment Sisigou raised his gun, Jeanne was already aware. With a swift motion of her right hand, she summoned a flag out of thin air.

The white flag with gold trim fluttered in the wind, the fleur-de-lis emblem shining brightly — this was her Noble Phantasm, the embodiment of her legend. During the Hundred Years’ War, she wielded this very flag, leading the French army to victory after victory, driving the English out of Orléans.

This flag embodied Jeanne’s faith, the spirit of the French army, and the hearts of the people of Orléans. After she was canonized, it became the Holy Banner.

The Holy Banner symbolized protection. Even in the face of an army, the flag would not fall, let alone be troubled by two mere finger bullets.

With a graceful swing of the three-meter-long flagpole, the two bullets aimed at the horse’s legs were effortlessly deflected.

Seeing this, Sisigou pulled the pin of a heart grenade while shouting, “Ruler! This is a battle between the Red Saber and the Black Lancer. It doesn’t violate the rules. Are you going to protect the Black Lancer?”

“This…”

Neither Artoria nor Mordred had broken any rules. As the Ruler, Jeanne shouldn’t interfere in their fight. But given the extraordinary circumstances, what should she do?

Sisigou didn’t miss Jeanne’s hesitation. The heart grenade, enhanced by magic, traced an arc through the air and exploded above Artoria’s head. Teeth and nails embedded within burst forth, creating a dense barrage that enveloped the two riders and their horse.

Regardless of everything, they had to reach the hanging garden — having made up her mind, Jeanne prepared to swing the Holy Banner again but felt a sudden tightness around her wrist. Artoria had grabbed her hand first. The Knight King leaped into the air, using her body as a shield to block all the “shrapnel” from the grenade.

Naturally, Artoria fell from the horse, landing on the ground.

“Artoria!” Jeanne called out, turning her head.

Artoria did not look back, simply waving her hand and saying, “Mr. Sisigou is right. This is a battle between the Black Lancer and the Red Saber, and it doesn’t violate the rules. So, leave this to me and continue forward with Dun.”

As she spoke, the holy lance appeared out of thin air, striking the approaching AE86. The car, built of steel and weighing tons, was flipped by the powerful thrust, with the front end, housing most of its power system, blown open with a gaping hole. Sparks flew, leading to an ominous explosion.

Of course, with Artoria’s Servant body, an explosion devoid of any mystery couldn’t possibly harm her. At most, it would push her a short distance due to the vehicle’s propulsion and the blast wave.

Meanwhile, Mordred had already used brute force to tear open the car roof and drag Sisigou away from the danger as soon as her father unleashed the spear.

The explosion of the vehicle and Artoria’s subsequent words happened almost simultaneously, the latter half of her sentence drowned out by the deafening blast, making it hard to hear clearly. But this did not prevent Jeanne from understanding Artoria’s intentions. She respected Artoria’s decision and recognized her determination to entrust everything to her. Jeanne knew she could only do one thing: repay her companion’s efforts with her utmost dedication.

“I understand. Leave it to me!”

“Yes, once I handle things here, I’ll come find you.”

“Agreed. But don’t make me wait too long. If everything’s settled and you haven’t shown up, I’ll laugh at you.”

“You’d better not need me to rescue you after accomplishing nothing.”

The two, like sisters, exchanged words of encouragement as if no one else was around. In the few short days they had spent together, they had forged a deep bond, each firmly believing that the other would achieve victory.

Dun Stallion neighed loudly, seemingly cheering for the two or perhaps boosting its morale. As its four hooves flew, the dragon tooth warriors blocking the way were crushed to pieces. The white horse, which had crossed countless battlefields with King Arthur, now charged into the enemy ranks with the unstoppable force of France’s Holy Maiden.

On the other side, Mordred, who had narrowly escaped the AE86, rolled on the ground with her Master for a dozen meters before finally getting up.

First, she asked her Master if he was alright. After receiving a negative answer, the rebellious knight manifested the Clarent and walked towards her father with her head held high.

“You all got it wrong. You won’t have a chance to save Ruler, and she won’t have a chance to mock you, because you’re not going anywhere, my father.”

“Are you going to stop me?”

“Of course.”

“Why? If you truly want to fight me, once the Holy Grail issue is resolved, I’ll give you a fair chance to battle.”

Since she had been communicating with Jeanne, Artoria had not donned her helmet, allowing Mordred to clearly see the expression on her father’s face — the confusion and lack of understanding, which made Mordred feel a mix of dissatisfaction and inexplicable heartache.

Magic surged, and sturdy armor replaced the hot-blooded attire. Similarly, Mordred also left her helmet off.

“You’ll never understand, Father. You, who dedicated yourself to Britain, you, who fought for the world, you, who became the embodiment of righteousness, will never understand.”

“Is that the reason for your rebellion?”

“You can see it that way, but it no longer matters. What matters is that you are the Black Lancer, and I am the Red Saber. We are enemies, and it’s that simple.”

The negative emotions infused into her magic dyed the Clarent red, and blood-like lightning enveloped Mordred’s body.

Sisigou prepared various tools to provide maximum support for his Servant — he knew very well that Mordred’s power alone wasn’t enough to defeat King Arthur.

Seeing this, Artoria realized that further words were pointless. She slowly raised her lance and said, word by word, “I understand now. You are my enemy, Red Saber. I will defeat you.”

“No, you will be defeated by me, Black Lancer.”

The lance pierced the air, the sword unleashed thunder, and they clashed, sparking a dazzling light.

There was no Artoria, no Mordred, no father and son (mother and daughter).

There were only Lancer and Saber, black and red.