In the dimness of the forest, only the rustling of leaves and the creaking of chains echoed. Atalanta was bound by the Chains of Heaven. Her body, so accustomed to leaping, running, and never being caught, now trembled under the weight of absolute helplessness.
She furrowed her brow, her voice filled with indignation and bitterness:
"So… I was your target from the very beginning?"
"Exactly," Arthur replied with a smile.
Atalanta drew a deep breath.
The more she struggled against the chains, the tighter the links closed in, crushing her hopes of escape. She understood better than anyone—there was nowhere to run, no way to break free.
"Hmph… so this is my end." Her eyes lost their light for an instant, and she lifted her face proudly, as though accepting her fate. "Kill me already."
Arthur tilted his head slightly.
"I don't intend to kill you, Atalanta," he said, smiling once again.
The words struck her like lightning. The huntress's heart surged with despair—not at the prospect of death, but at the uncertainty. Her eyes widened, filled with horror and disbelief.
"What…?"
It was then that Arthur extended his hand. A golden portal opened above it, and from within, a strange dagger fell.
"So then… let us begin our contract, Atalanta."
---
In the Hanging Gardens of Babylon
Silence weighed heavily over the Gardens, broken only by the soft trickle of water cascading from fountains and the distant whisper of the night wind.
Shirou Amakusa sat with his eyes closed in concentration. But suddenly, his expression shifted. His lips curved into a faint, bitter smile, and a resigned sigh slipped from his throat.
"So… it seems she was defeated, after all."
Immediately, all attention turned to him. Perplexed gazes met in the air, each reflecting the same doubt.
"What happened, Master?" Semiramis asked.
Shirou opened his eyes, revealing a faint gleam of helplessness.
"The connection between Atalanta and me… has vanished."
The words fell like thunder.
"What!?" Semiramis rose from her ebony throne, her eyes narrowing into sharp blades.
Across the hall, Achilles clenched his fists until his bones cracked, his body trembling with fury.
"She was killed!?" he roared. "How is that possible!? How could she fall so suddenly!?"
The air seemed to vibrate with the rage of the Greek warrior.
"It must have been that man!" he growled, his eyes blazing. "It couldn't have been anyone else!"
Tension thickened among those present. Each one began forming theories, wondering who among the enemies of the Black Faction could possibly have the strength to subdue a legendary huntress like Atalanta.
Achilles turned to Shirou Amakusa, as if demanding an immediate answer.
Shirou, however, raised a hand in a peaceful gesture, his voice calm despite the gravity of the situation.
"Rider, calm yourself. Rather than her death… what I sensed felt different. It seemed more like… the contract between us was severed."
A heavy silence fell over the Gardens.
"Severed…?" Semiramis repeated, her expression hardening. A venomous gleam passed through her golden eyes. "Who would dare—and who would even possess the power to do such a thing?"
Shirou maintained his composed posture.
"I have a suspicion… According to legend, Gilgamesh possesses all the treasures of the world. If it was he who struck Atalanta, it would not be strange for him to hold, among his treasures, an artifact capable of breaking the bonds of a contract."
Hearing this, even Semiramis furrowed her brow in surprise. The weight of the possibility was crushing: an enemy not only strong enough to win through sheer power, but capable of dismantling the very pacts that bound their warriors.
Shirou Amakusa lifted his gaze, staring into the darkness beyond the suspended walls.
"The war isn't over yet." His voice rang firm. "Do not leave here until the final battle."
The response came in unison, heavy with solemn resolve:
"Yes!"
---
Meanwhile, at Millennia Fortress
Outside the ruined walls, the battle against the Golem raged on.
Mordred attacked relentlessly. Clarent tore through the air in explosive arcs of energy, shattering parts of the giant. But to her frustration, the wounds healed as quickly as they were opened.
"Damn it!" Mordred spat, panting. "This is ridiculous!"
At that moment, a soft voice rang out:
"Phoebus Catastrophe!"
The sky lit up, and in the next instant, hundreds of shining arrows rained down like a storm, tearing through the air with deadly whistles and piercing the giant from every direction.
Astolfo's eyes widened in shock as he recognized the attack.
"That's the Noble Phantasm of the Red Archer!?"
Moments later, a figure leapt atop the walls of Millennia Fortress. It was Atalanta.
Astolfo tilted his head in disbelief, blinking several times before blurting out:
"Hey, wait… why are you helping us!?"
Atalanta turned her gaze away, biting her lower lip, clearly unhappy with the situation. The shame and contradiction in her expression made it obvious she was not there by choice.
Arthur's voice answered instead: "Because Atalanta… is our ally now."
"Atalanta…? An ally!?"
The silence that followed Arthur's words was deafening. Masters and Servants alike exchanged bewildered looks, disbelief written across their faces. The very idea seemed too absurd to accept without question.
Atalanta clicked her tongue in frustration.
"Tsk!" The sharp sound echoed, dripping with irritation. She averted her gaze, her green eyes blazing like those of a caged beast.
The stares fixed upon her felt like invisible daggers piercing her skin. Proud as she was, enduring that suspicious scrutiny made her blood boil. She held no affection for Shirou Amakusa, but the thought of being forced to stand beside enemies now… it gnawed at her insides like poison.
Her body radiated a killing intent so thick it was almost tangible, like an arrow drawn and ready to fly. And faced with that predatory aura, the surrounding Masters and Servants instinctively stepped back. None dared provoke the huntress, even with so many burning questions in their minds.
Arthur, however, remained unmoved, as if her menacing presence was irrelevant.
It was then that Mordred's fierce, rebellious voice rang out amid the chaos of battle:
"You've finally come back, Master!" Mordred shouted, her eyes never leaving the towering colossus. Clarent blazed in her grip, each strike reverberating like thunder against the Golem's massive frame.
Arthur allowed himself a calm smile, as though the scene before him were nothing more than a spectacle.
"Need a hand?" he asked, his tone light, teasing.
Mordred barked a wild laugh, dodging a gigantic fist that slammed into the ground, throwing up dust and debris.
"Not a damn chance!" she shot back, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "This beast is just my warm-up!"
With a ferocious cry, she charged again, her radiant sword carving a crimson arc of energy that seared a new wound across the Golem's chest. The giant roared, its deep bellow echoing across the field like distant thunder, yet it was already staggering under the Rebel Saber's relentless assault.
From the sidelines, Atalanta watched, fists clenched. She didn't want to be there. She didn't want to fight beside them. But no matter how much she hated to admit it… her arrow was now aimed in the same direction as theirs.
(End of the chapter)
A/N: I apologize—I tried really, really hard to conclude this fight, but for some reason, I just couldn't write anything truly interesting. Every attempt came out awful.
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."