Super God: If I punch you, you will die

0163 Achilles [Please Subscribe]

Achilles.

In terms of fame, he is a hero comparable to Hercules from Greek mythology. There are probably no more than ten heroes, including him, who possess worldwide renown. However, very few people know the story of his short life, which ended abruptly with his swift steed.

Achilles, born as the son of the sea goddess Thetis and the hero Peleus, was blessed by the gods from birth. His mother, Thetis, loved him so much that she tried to make him immortal by scorching him with sacred flames. However, her husband, Peleus, opposed her plan, arguing that "Achilles as a human would be destroyed." Ultimately, Achilles grew up retaining some human characteristics.

Later, when war broke out between Troy and Achaea, Achilles' mother Thetis asked him a question:

Do you want to live a long and peaceful life in obscurity, or to make a name for yourself in war and live a short life as a hero?

Achilles' final choice needs no further explanation. His mother was both proud of his decision and deeply heartbroken, for his fate was sealed the moment he was born… Had he been born a hero, his life would have been as fleeting as a passing revolving lantern.

As an adult, he participated in the Trojan War as an Achaean soldier, repeatedly distinguishing himself in battle. Blessed by the gods, he remained unharmed, and the spear given to him by his father pierced the bodies of countless heroes. His three-horse chariot, powered by two divine horses given to him by the sea god and a prized horse seized during a raid on a city, possessed unparalleled speed.

However, when he won his duel against Hector, a hero comparable to himself, in the Trojan War, he exposed his own weaknesses. Although it was to avenge his good friend Patroclus, his act of dragging the already corpse-like Hector in his chariot to humiliate him was a foolish and intolerant act.

As a result, he incurred the wrath of Apollo, the sun god, and despite Apollo's repeated admonitions, continued the prolonged massacre of the Trojan army. Enraged, Apollo bestowed a blessing upon Paris, the famous Trojan archer, and had him shoot through Achilles' only weakness—his ankle.

Achilles, realizing his impending death after being pierced by an arrow to the heart, launched a fierce attack on the Trojan army. He relentlessly slaughtered the Trojans until his death. Just as prophesied, though his life was short, he etched his legend as a hero deeply into world history.

A man almost godlike, a swift and invincible hero. Yet, his ankles... became his Achilles' heel.

The "Black" Archer, Chiron, is essentially Achilles' mentor. When Achilles was young, his mother, Thetis, returned to her underwater homeland due to discord with his father, Peleus. Since Chiron, who had trained many heroes, was an old acquaintance of Peleus, he readily agreed to become his tutor.

Therefore, it was only natural that Achilles was momentarily confused. To the young Achilles, Chiron was practically the absolute symbol. His kind yet serious words penetrated young Achilles' heart like magic.

Nine years... and during his most sentimental adolescence, he lived with him. He was a father and a teacher; an older brother and a good friend. For him, the son of a hero, blessed by the Olympian gods, and already the object of the soldiers' awe and admiration at a young age, there were very few people who could be called friends or teachers.

Chiron was undoubtedly one of them. He was someone Chiron could rival his good friend Patroclus in, and the most trustworthy person to him.

However, that hero is now standing in his way in his quest for the Holy Grail.

As the "black" Archer, as an enemy, as an opponent who fights against himself...

"I'm going to go now, teacher."

“That’s unnecessary, ‘Red’ Rider.”

Responding with harsh words, the slightly timid "Red" Rider immediately rallied, thrusting forward with his spear. The two began fighting at a distance where they could converse. In other words, this was a scenario of an approaching archer and an attacking lightly armed warrior.

Despite a hint of guilt, the gun tip was still sharply pointed at the opponent's heart. However, "Black" Archer, with the fearless courage of a berserker, instead took a step forward, following the trajectory of the gun.

Achilles, renowned for his swift steeds, possesses spear skills that would be easily mastered even if summoned as Lancer. Generally speaking, Archer would likely be easily pierced through the heart.

However, Rider forgot the most fatal point.

The spear tip didn't pierce Archer's heart; it merely grazed past him.

"What……!"

"Have you forgotten, Rider? Who was it that gave you this gun and taught you the basics of marksmanship?"

Archer's words had a profound impact on Rider. Indeed, as he said, Rider's marksmanship wasn't something he honed through his own efforts, but rather a foundation he initially learned from his master, Chiron. Given this, it was only natural that all of his movements and habits could be read. Furthermore, since the gun was originally a gift from Chiron to his father, Peleus, to celebrate their marriage, Archer also knew its firing range perfectly.

Archer then displayed astonishing skill. With a single step forward, he had already loaded an arrow into his bow. It was practically a rapid-fire shot, an unavoidable strike from point-blank range.

"You'll die, Rider?"

Archer aimed at his opponent's skull and fired the arrow without hesitation. Rider reflexively ducked back to dodge. It took incredible speed and awareness to pull him out of that life-or-death situation.

At that moment, Archer unleashed a kick. Losing his balance, Rider was sent flying, crashing heavily into a tree. In the instant the distance closed, Archer reloaded his bow.

Something shifted in Rider's mind. He gritted his teeth, glaring defiantly at Archer, and charged straight at the incoming arrows. As he leaned forward to dodge the arrows, he immediately raised his spear in a sweeping attack… which was dodged.

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A strange joy welled up inside him. He roared and continued thrusting his spear. Archer dodged the barrage of spear thrusts, which resembled a hail of bullets, and skillfully adjusted his distance while nocking an arrow.

Archers can't engage in close combat; once they enter the lance's attack range, they'll win... My previous simplistic thinking was incredibly foolish. The opponent is Chiron! Not only myself, but countless heroes like Heracles, Jason, Castor, and Asclepius have all received his teachings; he is a true sage.

A draw is only possible under very close conditions. Under those circumstances, if one doesn't unleash their full power in an all-out attack, defeat is inevitable…!

Rider skillfully employed thrusts, sweeps, and feints to launch a fierce offensive against Archer. Archer, in turn, dodged, parried with his bow, and even occasionally used combinations of hand and foot techniques, drawing his bow and firing whenever he saw an opportunity.

Struck by a sniper at point-blank range, Rider's body was pierced with a "whoosh." Even a body blessed by the gods was utterly defenseless against the attack of Archer, who also possessed "divinity."

All his attacks were completely anticipated by his opponent, while his opponent's attacks were always unpredictable at crucial moments. Although he could currently maintain a balance thanks to his innate strength, continuing like this would inevitably lead him to a dead end.

Rider tried to temporarily detach his thoughts from the battle at hand. The reason his moves were so easily read was because his foundation was entirely derived from the teachings of this Archer. This included his stance, the timing of his thrusts, and even his sweeping attacks and other techniques.

Don't be fooled.

He did indeed teach him the basics. However, since he began fighting in his youth, he hadn't relied solely on those basics to achieve victory. He possessed various applied skills and had found a way to survive in dire situations. He had fought against numerous heroes and constantly honed his skills.

In all sorts of battles and crises, how did I find a way to survive? Right, for example, back then…

Rider's movements have changed. Instead of using basic skills and overwhelming speed to force his way through, he has begun to incorporate various clever variations into his moves.

Just as he suddenly released his gun, the next instant he used his ankle, which was originally his fatal weakness, to kick Archer in the face.

He first kicked the falling gun, then leaped into the air to catch it, simultaneously thrusting the gun at his target. The tip grazed Archer's neck, and blood gushed out.

"Ugh...!"

Archer couldn't help but create some distance. As if to say, "How about that?", Rider casually twirled his spear.

Their eyes met, and they both wore fearless smiles.

"So he really does have the strength to become a Heroic Spirit."

"Of course. Unlike you, who just teaches others, I've been on countless battlefields."

He had clashed and fought alongside numerous heroes, even sharing moments of spiritual communion. He had indeed learned the fundamentals from Chiron. But the countless corpses accumulated in battle… were an undeniable fact for Rider.

"Oh, that's great. It's really painful to unilaterally kill your own students."

Archer said this with a smile, and Rider laughed too.

He has completely cast aside his hesitation about fighting his mentor, and now all he feels is the joy of fighting against a strong opponent.

Rider is hesitating... should he close the distance or widen it? While logically, closing the distance to launch an attack is the most reasonable approach, perhaps it's time to abandon this conventional wisdom.

The spear he wielded was originally a weapon primarily intended for throwing, a weapon designed to penetrate all defenses and pierce the chest of a hero. Chiron knew better than anyone the spear's terrifying nature, after all, he himself had given it to him.

Then what should be done?

Their eyes met. "Red" Rider and "Black" Archer... each watching the other's every move, planning their next move.

Rider smiled, and Archer smiled too. There was indeed a bond between them. Mentor and disciple, friends who trusted each other from the bottom of their hearts... Even after setting aside this bond, the intense "joy" that overflowed in their hearts truly existed within them.

"Black" Rider is by no means a physically imposing man. He only possesses the level of endurance one can imagine from his slender appearance.

"It hurts so much, it hurts so much..."

Nevertheless, the fall and the damage from the magic only caused him some damage. This was, of course, due to the immense effect of his Noble Phantasm... "The Complete Guide to Magic".

"This is terrible, what should I do?"

The hawk didn't die; although it was slightly injured from being hastily returned, it can recover. However, it's probably unusable in this battle.

Looking back, he realized he might have been a bit too hasty. Furthermore, if he had been able to fully unleash the power of the hawk, he certainly could have dodged that magical attack.

The reason he failed to do it was because he had already decided not to do it.

"Seriously!"

He scratched his head hard. He'd probably never encountered anything so perplexing in his life. He understood perfectly well, logically he understood perfectly well. He had to win this battle… he really did understand perfectly well. But his body simply wouldn't obey him.

Ugh, this is terrible, it's awful.

What came to mind was that slender arm pleading for help. The voice was as small and weak as a mayfly's, and the trembling body made her seem incredibly fragile.

We are the great sinners who fatten up by feeding on the weak.

"Should we even bring this up now?" The thought crossed my mind. Yes, that's certainly true. A monster that consumes magic just to reveal its form—that's its true form. Perhaps several androids have already died because of the magic it consumed.

It's really unnecessary to talk about this now. But he doesn't want to do that no matter what; he's already made up his mind and decided on it long ago.

"Let's find another way first."

Wanting the Holy Grail, wanting to dedicate one's strength to one's comrades... that's certainly good. However, whether the process of achieving this goal can bring peace of mind becomes a difficult question.

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If this were the right contract, the right Master, I wouldn't be so hesitant...

"Well?"

A sharp, metallic "screech..." rang in his ears, and Rider hurriedly turned around. There, a Chevrolet Corvette, a long-established American sports car stained with blood, its body a vibrant red and its exterior dented and battered, sped towards Rider, shoving through the Dragon Fang soldiers and androids while dodging the puppets.

"You're kidding!"

While surprised by the intruder who seemed completely out of place in this ancient battlefield, Rider, as a Servant, took evasive action. The Chevrolet sports car driving past him seemed to have its steering wheel forcibly turned, spinning violently as if it had been flung away by a giant before coming to a stop.

As Rider stared speechlessly at the car, a clattering sound began to come from the driver's seat. It seemed someone was trying to open the door, but the door was completely deformed, as if it had hit something.

"Ugh, this is so annoying!"

With those words, the car door was kicked open.

A slender leg extended from the driver's seat. A young girl, her face blackened in several places, seemed quite disgruntled as she banged on the car's hood. She wore a bright red leather jacket, a strapless crop top, and super-short denim shorts that exposed her thighs. The passenger door was also kicked open, and a man crawled out. He wore black boots and black trousers, and looked like a burly man who had never experienced a normal life, walking a path of glamorous yet disillusioned existence.

"Hey, Master, didn't you say American cars are very sturdy?"

"I'd say, the only vehicle that could handle your driving style is probably a tank. By the way, is your riding skill really B-level? Do you even know how to drive? No, never mind. You don't need to answer. This is just your nature, huh."

The man responded with a weary expression. So, she's a Servant? "Black" Rider tensed instantly. It wasn't because he was surprised by the car, but because he sensed an unparalleled power emanating from the Servant before him.

“'Red'...Saber.”

In response to Rider's hesitation, "Red" Saber flashed a fearless smile.

"Oh, so you're the 'Black' side's Servant...right?"

"That's right, he's most likely Rider. So Saber, I'm leaving the rest to you. I'm going to run away now."

"What? Master? Aren't you going to stay and watch me fight?"

"If this weren't the center of the battlefield, I would definitely love to take a look..."

The burly man sighed as he looked around. Not only the Dragon Fang Soldiers, androids, and puppets, but everywhere he looked, he could feel the intense clash of magical energy between Servants.

"Hmph, there's really no way around it. Alright, you'd better run away!"

"Alright. Well then, make sure you come back alive."

Saber's Master returned to the driver's seat, ignoring the kicked-off car door, and drove the Chevrolet Corvette away.

"Really, how dare they start a war here without me? There's a limit to jokes... But never mind. The protagonist is always the last to appear, so it's only natural for a king to leisurely step onto the battlefield."

"Eh, are you the king?"

"Hmm. If you're willing to surrender, I can simply cut off your head."

"No, this is still a bit..."

"Black" Rider has recovered from the impact. Facing him, who is wielding a long spear and ready to fight, Saber looks puzzled.

"Hey, Rider, where did your horse go?"

"Ah... it's resting for now."

"Red" Saber's expression instantly filled with murderous intent. It seemed she was getting impatient with Rider's flippant attitude.

"Huh? What kind of cavalrymen are they if they don't ride horses? They're already weak soldiers who can't be defeated. Doesn't that just make them amateur grunts?"

I don't deny that either.

"You should just deny it."

"No, because I've always been known for being honest. But even so, fighting with all my might is a servant's duty."

"Hmph... There's nothing I can do. By the way, Rider, I heard 'Black' Saber has disappeared. Is that true?"

"Really, really, absolutely right."

"what is the reason?"

"Hmm... what appears to be infighting to outsiders is, for him, it's about upholding his beliefs... that's probably it."

"Ugh, how awful. Is 'Black' Saber some kind of country bumpkin knight? She died upholding her beliefs? How ridiculous!"

The moment those words were spoken, the atmosphere changed instantly. It was "Black" Rider who changed the atmosphere, and Saber, sensing this shift, tensed up.