Fate/Apocrypha

Chapter 3.3

Yet this barrage of spear thrusts - seeming to form an impenetrable stone wall - is being received by Siegfried, the Dragon-slayer of the Netherlands, whose swordsmanship has long surpassed mankind. Making full use of every gap between thrusts, he began to close the distance one step at a time.

However, even for an excellent swordsman, it is not a matter of course that every spear thrust can be defended against without fail. It is all the more impossible to fully receive the constant attacks of a spearman that has stepped so far into the domain of Gods.

In spite of this, Saber calmly continues his advance - an act so astoundingly reckless that even Ruler, who knew of his legend, wanted to cry out for him to stop.

'Nothing ventured, nothing gained'. 'Finding life through death'. The words themselves are brutally simple. However, much difficulty lies in actually practicing them, and most who try will only end up as sunken corpses in the mud.

Saber takes yet another step further. Maneuvering his sword with the smallest possible movements, he wards off the spear's barrage. However, that is far from enough. Several thrusts connected directly with his vitals. His arteries were slashed apart, and his forehead was pierced - but it turns out that was not the case.

"...?!"

Lancer immediately fell back from the bizarre scene. After gaining some distance, he looked at Saber coldly.

"Those wounds are shallow."

Lancer has already perforated Saber, not once, but seventy-eight times - with every single one of them being in a vital point. Yet Saber still calmly holds his sword.

It isn't as though he hasn't received any wounds, but the shallowness of each is too strange. With the amount of force Lancer had put into his spear, his arms should have been torn apart and his eyes should have been gouged out.

However, thanks to Gordes' healing thaumaturgy, all of Saber's wounds closed at once, proving that they were shallow enough to allow for immediate regeneration.

But that cannot be possible. It would at least be logical, albeit unbelievable, if Saber had somehow managed to handle his spear's barrage earlier. But receiving so little damage even after being hit directly simply cannot be...

It is an impossibility and, at the same time, a phenomenon that surely occurred - so there must be a reason. A reason why the Saber of the Black cannot be severely wounded... perhaps he is a favorite of the Gods, much like the Rider of his own side, or has trained his body to become like this, or...

"Ah... I see. Finally, I understand."

A feeling of exaltation - something Lancer had not felt in a very long time - took hold in his heart. Yes... this Saber truly is most similar to him.

Of course, Saber feels as shocked as Lancer. He possesses the

Armor of Fafner

Blood Armor of the Evil Dragon

- a cheat of an ability that re-enacts the legend of the the hero who washed in dragon-blood, nullifying all attacks of rank B and below.

In other words, it should have been impossible for Saber to be hurt in this state... not by that spear, which had only been used as a regular piece of armament and not fully activated as a Noble Phantasm.

Yet every single one of the seventy-eight strikes by Lancer have caused damage to him. The wounds were light enough to be instantly healed by his Master's thaumaturgy... but they are more than enough to terrify Siegfried.

It means that Lancer's spear possesses power proportionate to an A-rank attack. But while the spear itself is certainly a rare gem, it never could have penetrated this dragon's body and landed a blow by itself. Lancer's destructive force comes from his immense physical strength and his transcendent technique.

Incredible...

Saber maintained his appearance while allowing his joy to be revealed within himself. Not even in life did he ever cross swords with such a mighty figure. Ever since defeating the dragon that had caused so many villages to wither, Siegfried created numerous legends thanks to his immortal body... but he had long since lost the sensation of struggling against death... grazing his soul against the point of no return.

With his body proofed against any and all attacks, Siegfried simply butchered his enemies with no thought in the deed. There was never a struggle. It was closer to a form of labor.

But this battle has none of that.

Witness his fiendish spear piercing my dragon's armor... his divine skills...

Just how many legends has this man created? Just how many trials has he overcome?

The mere thought fills Saber with admiration. And it seems that the spearman before him holds the same opinion.

In silence, they nod at one another - and indulge themselves in the duel once again.

The spear is brandished again at Saber. Between them, there is eagerness to fight, to battle and to kill - two wills of steel.

Saber corrects his stance with his greatsword. Lancer grips his spear with both hands.

The night is moonless, unlit... but it matters not, for a sun of high spirits and brisk winds is shining down on them - and these two uncommon Heroic Spirits cross blades once more.