The samurai sword was very ordinary, yet it stirred up a cold glint and a flash of sword light. The undead soldiers rushing out in this cold light were quickly cut in two, falling to the ground, turning into magical energy, and returning to the Berserker's body. Then, under the surge of that black-purple magical energy, they charged out again. It was just that this time, they were not so reckless.
And the Servant who had appeared in the summoning circle made both Rin and the young man Shirou jump in shock. For no other reason than that this Heroic Spirit looked too much like the young man Shirou sitting on the ground... no, if one ignored the issue of temperament, they simply looked identical. The biggest difference between the two was that the young man looked very much like the protagonist of a hot-blooded sports anime, while the summoned Heroic Spirit was like a cedar tree, tempered by the precipitation of years, standing proudly in the distant mountains, in a place untouched by man for hundreds of years. At the same time, this cedar tree would occasionally flash with a hint of fire.
"I was wondering why this old man would be summoned. So it's because I've run into the real owner of this body. It's just that from the looks of it, there's a slight difference. I see. So such a fate exists in the world?"
The hot-blooded young man before him, were he to grow up, would have a high probability of being different from this body he was using. They should not be from the same world line. But he had not expected that this body he was using actually had his own bloodline. Of course, perhaps not a direct bloodline. After all, his entire life was in pursuit of that divine blade. Perhaps it was the blood descendant of one of his own brothers or sisters.
Suddenly, he felt a strange feeling, using this body in front of its real owner. It was as if he was a fake... no, that description was also a bit wrong. But these were not important.
It was just a moment of strangeness. The summoned Heroic Spirit, that is, the Saber, placed his gaze on his own Master. Looking at the face that was identical to his own, he gently raised an eyebrow. "Let's get this straight first. This old man is just a bladesmith. If my strength does not meet your expectations, I'll need you to forgive me."
With that, this Heroic Spirit once again swung his sword outwards, once again cutting the approaching undead soldiers into pieces. He then looked at the cracked blade in his hand. The Heroic Spirit, who called himself a bladesmith, shook his head. "Truly a defective product, forged from magical energy. It was just cutting bones, and it could only be swung twice. Has this old man's craft become rusty?"
After hearing this Heroic Spirit say this, Rin's mouth opened slightly. This was Berserker's Noble Phantasm. Even if what Berserker had summoned were just soldiers that looked like skeletons on the outside, how hard could the bodies of these existences, which were a Noble Phantasm, be? They were absolutely not comparable to ordinary skeletons. To be able to directly cut these summoned beings of the opponent's Noble Phantasm in two, with a weapon that was merely condensed and forged from magical energy—if such a weapon could be called a defective product... then most of the blacksmiths in the world of magic would have to commit suicide to atone for their sins.
"Let's adjust the ratio a little. After all, I'm dealing with what looks like an undead creature."
The red-haired bladesmith narrowed his amber-gold eyes. He then stretched out his right hand to the side. A flash of a blade immediately appeared. A samurai sword thus appeared in his hand. Looking at the undead soldier rushing towards him, the bladesmith just gently lifted his own hand and flicked it upwards. A silver sword light shot forward.
"Let's give this a try. This time, I've specially added the [Spirit-Purifying] and [Anti-Magic] properties."
With just one slash, the golden-green undead soldier was cut in two from the middle. At least from this powerful sharpness, the bodies of these undead soldiers were not an obstacle at all. Of course, if these undead soldiers had raised the shields or swords in their hands, that would have been another matter.
The Archer holding the giant cannon fired several cannonballs into the sky in succession. These cannonballs then fell towards the Berserker's position. And this Berserker, in turn, swung the axe in his hand to intercept the cannonballs that would have fallen on him in mid-air. As for the remaining one or two, he just let them explode by his side.
The Archer holding the giant cannon whistled. He had, of course, also seen the Servant who was standing not far away, half of his body revealed, wearing a Japanese-style coat and holding a sword. "Berserker, it seems your luck isn't very good."
Although, because of the serious battle, the Archer couldn't hear what his own Master and that red-haired young man were saying, from the current atmosphere, they should be considered allies. Since they were allies, then it was now two against one.
On the other side, the Heroic Spirit who called himself a bladesmith, on his other hand, once again forged a sharp blade with magical energy. The Heroic Spirit, holding two sharp blades, did not hesitate and rushed out directly. Although he said he was not good at fighting, when it was time to fight, he would not fail this young body he was currently in. After all, if one were to calculate based on his own peak, it would probably be in his old age, in the days after he had completely reined in all his sharpness. Whether it was his forging skills or his reputation, the him of that time was the strongest. But correspondingly, the various illnesses and weaknesses brought about by the aging of his body would also follow.
And the current him had his peak forging skills and combat skills, and also had a young and healthy body. Compared to the young man who was currently sitting on the ground, this bladesmith's figure was clearly better, with more muscles. But if it were in the eyes of a girl, it would just be a matter of "different strokes for different folks." After all, although the muscles on the hot-blooded young man were not as prominent as the bladesmith's, he was definitely in good shape among his peers.
After the targeted attributes had been forcibly added to the weapons, these two samurai swords were like moving through an unguarded territory. In fact, in order to be able to easily break through the shields and blades in the hands of these undead soldiers, the attribute of [Sharpness] was also added to them. It was just that these were, after all, existences created under the effect of magical energy and the Heroic Spirit's own experiences. Because they had no real physical body, the more attributes were added, the greater the pressure on these weapons. Basically, after every few undead soldiers were killed and a certain distance was advanced, these weapons would shatter.
However, after these weapons shattered, new weapons would quickly replace them. The fragments of the broken swords, after scattering in mid-air, would turn into specks of blue magical energy. The fragments of the swords, the blue magical energy, paired with the specks of light that scattered after the undead soldiers disappeared—on this modern bridge, a scene that was hard to recreate even in a dream was being staged.