The Reaper’s Judgment

The battle had already been decided.

Chariot, the Rider of this war, lay broken amidst the ruins.

Her mechanical chariot, once a war machine of unstoppable force, had been shredded to pieces, its golden wheels lying in shattered fragments across the desolate battlefield. The monstrous spider-like construct that had carried her into war now lay lifeless, its body twisted and mangled beyond repair.

And standing over the wreckage, surrounded by the lingering echoes of death—was Assassin.

Dead Master.

Her emerald eyes gleamed with an eerie glow, her skeletal crown casting jagged shadows in the flickering light of burning debris. The long, sinister chains that had ensnared Rider now slithered back toward her, retracting like serpents satisfied with their prey.

Rider coughed, blood spilling from her lips as she clutched at the deep wound carved into her side. Her once-pristine armor was battered, her breathing ragged. She tried to push herself up, fingers digging into the cracked pavement.

But Dead Master merely tilted her head, watching like a predator observing a wounded animal.

"You fought well," Assassin murmured, stepping closer.

Rider spat blood onto the ground, her crimson eyes burning with defiance. She was not afraid.

"If you're going to kill me, do it," she growled, her voice hoarse yet unwavering.

Dead Master smiled—a cruel, knowing smile.

"Oh, Rider. It's not about whether I will… but how much you will suffer before the end."

And with that, the chains moved again.

Like striking vipers, they lashed forward, piercing through Rider's body. A gasp left her lips as the cursed chains coiled tighter, draining her remaining strength. The magic circuits in her body flickered, her spiritual core breaking apart.

Her vision blurred.

The last thing she saw—before the world faded to nothing—was Assassin's cold, indifferent gaze.

Then—silence.

Rider of Chariot was no more.

---

From a distant rooftop, Lucian watched in stunned silence as Rider's existence unraveled, her body vanishing into shimmering light.

Lancer—Black Gold Saw—stood beside him, her greatsword resting against her shoulder. Though her posture remained steady, Lucian could tell she was analyzing the situation carefully.

"That Assassin… is dangerous," she muttered.

Lucian exhaled, gripping the edge of the crumbling wall.

"More than dangerous," he corrected. "She's a nightmare."

A Servant capable of hunting down and executing another without resistance?

This wasn't a simple enemy—they were dealing with a silent executioner.

And then, the cold feeling returned.

A whisper of movement.

Lucian's heart pounded as the shadows twisted below.

"She's already here—!"

Lancer turned sharply, her instincts screaming danger. But before she could act—

Chains shot toward them.

The attack was ruthless, striking with perfect precision.

Lucian barely managed to throw himself backward as the black tendrils shattered the rooftop beneath him. Dust and debris filled the air, forcing him to shield his face.

Lancer reacted instantly.

Her greatsword cleaved through the chains, severing them before they could reach her Master. The metal links snapped apart, but more followed—relentless, endless.

And then—she appeared.

Assassin stepped forward, emerging from the swirling darkness as if she had always been there. Her skeletal hands rested on her hips, her emerald gaze unreadable.

"Not bad," she mused, watching Lancer with mild amusement. "Most fall before they even see me."

Lancer's grip tightened around her sword.

"You talk too much, Assassin."

Assassin only smiled.

"And you rely too much on strength."

Lucian's mind raced. He needed a strategy. Assassin had overwhelming precision and speed. If she got close enough—he wouldn't survive.

But Lancer…

Lancer could handle this.

"Don't hold back," Lucian ordered. "Take her down."

Lancer charged.

Her greatsword swung in a wide arc, powerful enough to cleave through the very ground itself. The sheer force of her attack sent shockwaves rippling outward, shattering nearby ruins.

But Assassin…

Assassin was already gone.

She moved like a ghost, flickering between the shadows, avoiding every attack with inhuman grace. Lancer's strikes carved through empty air, her opponent never standing in one place long enough to be hit.

And then—Assassin countered.

Lucian barely saw it.

A single motion—too fast to track.

Lancer staggered back, blood dripping from a fresh wound across her arm.

"Tch…!"

Lucian's pulse quickened. Even Lancer wasn't safe?

Assassin tilted her head.

"You don't get it, do you?" she said, stepping forward.

"This isn't your fight, Lancer."

Her emerald eyes gleamed, piercing through the darkness—

"It's his."

Lucian's breath caught as Assassin turned her attention to him.

She wasn't here to fight Lancer.

She was here to kill him.

---

Meanwhile…

Far across the city, beneath the shattered moon, two figures clashed.

The ground trembled with each strike as Saber and Alter—Black Rock Shooter and Insane Black Rock Shooter—faced off in a battle that could rip reality apart.

Their twin flames burned—blue and black—like stars colliding in the abyss.

One sought victory.

The other sought annihilation.

And in the distance…

Another Servant watched.

A new predator was making their move.

---

To Be Continued…