I'm Not A Master, I'm A Director
Chapter 375: Jeanne: This Match Is Absolutely Fair and Just, I Swear!
While the shameless Darnic was bullying the weakened Duke and forcibly fusing souls with him, the battle inside the castle was only growing more intense.
After separating the Chiron–Stheno duo, Mordred and Jeanne took full advantage of the fact that they were girls and went all out bullying the poor "big sister."
The pitiful Stheno, whose Noble Phantasm was completely ineffective against those two blonde hooligans, could only dodge desperately while launching the occasional token counterattack.
Despite fighting on her home turf, she somehow turned what should have been a defensive battle into a game of hide-and-seek—one that looked suspiciously like Ethan running from Lady Dimitrescu.
And worse still, Stheno wasn't even playing the role of Lady Dimitrescu.
Thank goodness Fate/Apocrypha wasn't a comedy or a horror movie—otherwise, the big sister might very well have ended up crying her eyes out while screaming "Don't come any closer—!" at the top of her lungs.
"Tch."
Seated in her chair, Arturia clicked her tongue in dissatisfaction. She was clearly unhappy with this part of the story.
And that was only natural.
Watching two women wearing her face gang up on a little girl—how could that possibly make her happy?
Who was she? The upright and honorable King of Knights.
How could she ever be so tasteless as to do something like that?
"My king, is something troubling you?"
Gawain spoke up, noticing Arturia's mood.
Due to the seating arrangement, the Round Table Three Idiots just so happened to be sitting together with their boss.
"I just feel like my reputation might be taking a hit," Arturia complained, resting her chin on her hand.
"Bullying a little girl… it just feels incredibly uncouth."
As for the idea that Jeanne and Mordred were completely different people from herself—Arturia had no confidence that the average audience member could tell the difference.
"Your reputation being harmed? That's impossible!" Tristan declared resolutely.
"As long as I'm here, my king will always be seen by outsiders as—"
Lancelot immediately cut him off.
"The king's reputation being ruined is entirely Master's doing. How are you supposed to defend that? Honestly, our Master is just too cruel."
"Hey, watch your words! No matter what, you shouldn't badmouth Master like that!"
"At this point, who even cares anymore? Master he—"
These guys are so noisy.
Arturia grimaced, then decisively activated Invisible Air around her ears, blocking out all the nonsense from the three idiots who were bickering like yapping puppies.
Sure, it meant she couldn't hear the movie either—but at least, for this brief moment, Arturia's world was finally peaceful.
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Unlike the two Arturia-faced bullies picking on a little girl, the battle between Astolfo and Chiron was far more intense—and far more spectacular.
Facing a Greek centaur who could leap effortlessly between towers and snipe targets from hundreds of kilometers away, Astolfo immediately summoned his trusty mount just to keep up with Chiron's speed.
Yeah!
A hippogriff versus a centaur—magical creatures from the Forbidden Forest turning on each other!
From the moment Astolfo mounted up and smashed through the castle wall, shifting the battlefield to the exterior, a high-speed chase between the two horse-like fantasy beings began.
Whether it was their Servant parameters, their Noble Phantasm ranks, or overall combat experience, there was a massive gap between Astolfo and Chiron.
Not to mention Astolfo was still suffering from the [Reason Evaporation] debuff.
By all logic, Astolfo stood no chance against the centaur teacher.
But battles between Heroic Spirits were never a simple card game of bigger numbers winning.
Compared to sheer rank, the effects of Noble Phantasms could just as easily decide the outcome.
Fully aware that he was at a disadvantage, Astolfo fought with remarkable decisiveness.
From the moment he mounted his steed and raised his lance, he had only one goal—to stab Chiron with it.
The golden lance in Astolfo's hands, as a Noble Phantasm, had almost zero destructive power.
But it possessed an effect so outrageous it bordered on causal reversal:
Any Servant struck by it would have their feet forcibly turned into spirit form.
In other words—once it hit, standing would no longer be an option.
Trap of Argalia—that was the true nature of the weapon in Astolfo's hands.
For a four-legged being like Chiron, getting struck by that lance would be nothing short of catastrophic.
However, if the lance didn't land a direct hit, then its effect simply wouldn't activate.
As for Astolfo—being a knight who frequently competed on horseback, his skill with a lance while mounted ranked among the very best in the Knight class.
Unfortunately, his opponent was Chiron—the legendary mentor who had trained heroes whose names echoed through history, such as Heracles and Achilles.
If Astolfo's martial skill represented the absolute peak that a human could achieve through training, then Chiron stood at an entirely different level—a celestial, "apex-of-the-apex" existence that surpassed humanity itself.
Unless one was a prodigy blessed by the gods, a demigod by birth, everyone else was nothing more than a child playing around in Chiron's eyes.
"Too slow!"
Chiron let out a cold snort and fired several arrows in rapid succession.
"That's totally cheating!"
Astolfo had great confidence in his agility, but Chiron's arrows instantly disrupted his rhythm.
If it weren't for the perfect coordination between Astolfo and his mount, he would've been shot straight off his hippogriff long ago.
Even so, Astolfo still had to exert tremendous effort just to deflect Chiron's arrows with his lance.
At the moment lance and arrow collided, a flash of blue magical lightning burst forth.
"Sss—aren't you getting a bit too excited there?"
Feeling the sheer force behind the arrows and the chilling killing intent of his opponent, Astolfo shuddered from head to toe.
"Sorry, but I'm very busy right now. Could you hurry up and fall already, Rider?"
Chiron frowned slightly, complaining with clear impatience.
He knew full well that Stheno couldn't stand against those two women for long. He needed to hurry back and provide support.
As for Astolfo, he responded by doing the one thing that annoyed his opponents the most—and that he himself was best at.
He smiled.
"Hey now~ don't say that, teacher. Can't you keep me company a little longer?"
Astolfo had never received professional training in etiquette, so he just kept smiling—never stopping for a moment.
Outside the screen, the audience loved Astolfo's warm, spring-breeze smile.
Unlike Diarmuid's devastatingly handsome face that even made other men feel inferior, Astolfo's looks were only around the upper-middle tier among Heroic Spirits.
But that innocent, carefree smile greatly boosted his popularity with the viewers.
Unfortunately for him, Chiron was neither a Guda who enjoyed Astolfo in that way, nor an audience member charmed by his grin.
To Chiron, Astolfo's smile invoked only one emotion.
"Annoying!"
Chiron angrily released the bowstring.
"Guh—!!"
Lance and arrow collided in midair, sparks exploding outward.
From the start of the battle until now, Chiron's offense had overwhelmingly dominated Astolfo.
And yet, the one growing more impatient as the fight dragged on was Chiron himself.
He was the one who wanted to end things quickly—but Astolfo's deliberate entanglement tactics made him feel like a tiger biting into a hedgehog, unable to find a clean opening.
"Tch… I can't go all out like this!"
Chiron pawed at the ground irritably with his hooves.
If this continued, he was confident he would eventually win—but how long would it take?
Ten minutes? Twenty? Or even half an hour?
The longer this dragged on, the greater the danger Stheno would be in—and that was what truly worried Chiron.
'Should I just ignore the knockdown effect, deliberately take a hit, and use that opening to activate my Noble Phantasm?'
The idea surfaced—and was immediately rejected.
Activating his Noble Phantasm would indeed settle everything in one stroke.
Moreover, Antares Snipe could be fired at the exact moment Chiron willed it—no need to release its True Name or charge magical energy, completely eliminating the inevitable time lag caused by nocking and drawing an arrow.
It was a shooting-star strike achievable only by a constellation that eternally drew its bow toward the scorpion in the heavens.
However, no matter how little charging was required, the instant he activated his Noble Phantasm, Chiron still had to stop and chant its True Name.
In a high-speed running battle like this, that brief pause—the moment Chiron spoke the Noble Phantasm's name—was more than enough time for Astolfo, riding atop the Hippogriff, to brush him with the golden lance.
Right now, the reason Chiron could keep Astolfo suppressed was thanks to his divine-level martial skill and nimble footwork.
If he were to stop in place—even for a single second—he would absolutely fall into Astolfo's trap.
After all, the Hippogriff was still a Phantasmal Species. Even if its status had been nerfed, it wasn't something an ordinary horse could bully.
And don't be fooled by how blunt Astolfo's lance tip looked. Even if it didn't cause physical injury, Chiron—who had once fought alongside Astolfo—knew very well what would happen if he were struck.
What truly prevented Chiron from making up his mind was the fact that Antares Snipe still required travel time from release to impact.
That opening alone was enough for Astolfo to knock him down first—and then finish him off with the Hippogriff.
Even if Astolfo were killed by the Noble Phantasm afterward… what would that accomplish?
The Black Faction, already running out of cards to play, could not afford to lose another Servant.
"No… the more it's like this, the more I must remain calm."
Suppressing the impatience in his heart, Chiron patiently waited for Astolfo to expose an opening.
—There!
The chance appeared.
As Astolfo exerted all his strength to knock aside an incoming arrow, he raised his lance slightly—leaving his body completely undefended.
Whoosh—
A lightning-fast arrow pierced straight into Astolfo's exposed abdomen.
The chainmail he wore was like paper before Chiron's shot.
"Ah—!"
At the very last moment, Astolfo poured every ounce of strength he had into twisting his body.
That desperate movement proved decisive. Though the arrow still struck his abdomen, he narrowly avoided an instant-death outcome.
That said, avoiding death only meant delaying it by a few seconds.
Strike when the enemy is wounded—finish them while you can.
In moments like this, if you didn't pursue, were you supposed to wait for the enemy to receive treatment instead?
"It's over!"
Chiron raised his hand and pointed toward the sky, preparing to activate his Noble Phantasm and send Astolfo back to the Throne of Heroes.
"That's as far as you go!"
At that critical moment, Jeanne leapt out, standing squarely in front of Astolfo, and thrust her flagstaff into the outer wall of the castle.
"Antares Snipe!"
"Luminosité Eternelle!"
In an instant, a meteor-like strike shot down from the constellation itself, carrying the highest power and precision of an absolute shot and slammed into the ground.
Then—it was stopped.
The flag planted in the earth radiated brilliant golden light, transforming Jeanne's abnormal Magic Resistance directly into physical defense, blocking the attack head-on.
This was the Noble Phantasm born from Jeanne's legend—the miracle of her banner leading her to victory on the battlefield with barely a scratch.
A defensive Noble Phantasm that belonged to her alone.
There was no doubt that Antares Snipe was terrifyingly powerful and incomparably precise, but in front of Jeanne's Luminosité Eternelle, it simply wasn't enough.
"Isn't this cheating?"
Li Ri'ang let out a breath of relief, having thought Astolfo was about to be eliminated, but immediately frowned.
"The referee just ran onto the field to play."
Shibamatsu, however, looked completely unfazed.
"She and Astolfo were on the same side to begin with. What's this nonsense about biased officiating?"
"Besides," he added casually, "on one side you've got a cute trap and a beautiful girl. On the other, a four-legged animal. Which side are you standing on?"
"…The trap and the beautiful girl."
Li Ri'ang wasn't exactly a looks-only person—but he understood the meaning of the phrase 'looks are justice.'
"Well, there you go~" Shibamatsu shrugged.
"No one wants to see Astolfo get kicked out this early. Saving him is only natural. This isn't Jeanne playing favorites—it's the director's will."
"When you put it that way… I guess you're not wrong."
Li Ri'ang knew full well that in most stories, popular characters were often pushed into danger first—only to be saved at the very last second.
Still… This time, Jeanne's bias was really blatant. To the point where Li Ri'ang couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Chiron, who had fought so hard for so long.
Fortunately, Shinji was well aware that Jeanne's actions were… just a tiny bit problematic, so he quickly provided a reason that made her intervention unavoidable.
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"Hahaha~ sorry about that, Jeanne."
Having been saved from a killing blow, Astolfo scratched the back of his head as usual and let out his trademark foolish laugh.
"Shut up."
Jeanne snapped back irritably.
Seeing that his Noble Phantasm had failed to kill its target, Chiron frowned in surprise.
"Ruler! As the referee, you personally stepped onto the field and altered the outcome—have you no shame at all?!"
Jeanne had no intention of making excuses for herself. As she withdrew her banner, she spoke urgently:
"Black Faction Archer, now is not the time for infighting. A much bigger problem is coming."
"Wha—"
Before Chiron could ask what she meant, the castle wall was smashed open once more.
But this time, what emerged wasn't a Servant.
It was a dense swarm of monsters.
Creatures that could scarcely still be called human clung to the castle walls in grotesque postures, roaring incessantly at the few living beings on the battlefield.
Combined with the eerie background music now playing, the scene radiated an overwhelming sense of unease.
And Shinji, ever the malicious one, deliberately had the camera sweep across the monsters, zooming in on their twisted, feral faces.
Any movie fan from Shinji's original world would immediately think of a single word upon seeing this scene—
Resident Evil.
"Master, you did that shot on purpose, didn't you?"
Jeanne grabbed Shinji's hand, her tone tinged with tension as she confirmed it.
"More or less," Shinji nodded.
"It's a vampire story, after all. You've gotta have at least a little horror-movie atmosphere."
As he spoke, he gently squeezed Jeanne's small hand.
Sure enough—even the Maid of Orleans was still a girl at heart. There was no way she wouldn't be scared by scenes like this.
Though she'd slapped his hand away earlier with a look of pure disdain, thanks to the horror atmosphere he'd crafted for this film, Jeanne had now leaned back toward him.
At this moment, Shinji was filled with boundless admiration for his own skills.
Of course, that was entirely Shinji's interpretation.
From Jeanne's perspective, she was simply worried that Shinji would pull some kind of sneak attack again and disrupt her movie-watching.
To prevent her Master from interfering, she grabbed his hand and gave him a little "reward" to keep him satisfied.
Still, she couldn't help but be impressed by just how important post-production was to a film.
When these scenes were shot, Jeanne herself had been present on set—and she hadn't felt scared at all.
In fact, the exaggerated growls from the extras had been so ridiculous that she'd burst out laughing.
Yet now, with clever editing, filters layered on, eerie music added, and special effects applied, the atmosphere really did make her heart flutter just a tiny bit.
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"These are… the homunculi inside the castle… turned into Dead Apostles?!"
With his sharp eyesight, Chiron immediately recognized both the monsters' identities and their current state.
"Hehe… as expected of Sagittarius. With eyes like those, it's only natural you'd notice."
Vlad III— No, the creature that had become a monster—Dracula—let out a hoarse, whistling laugh.
Black wings spread wide behind him as he flew out through the shattered hole in the castle wall, his expression filled with twisted pride.
Leaping onto the rooftop of a tower, Chiron's face twisted in disgust.
"Have you lost all dignity as a Heroic Spirit, Lancer?"
Dracula, however, calmly extended a hand, his face filled with twisted delight.
"Chiron… come. Become one of us."
"No, thank you."
Without changing his stance, Chiron—who had kept his bow drawn the entire time—loosed an arrow that struck Dracula squarely in the chest.
Chiron didn't consider this an underhanded act at all.
After all, appearing so brazenly on a battlefield like this was practically asking to be killed.
The arrow howled through the air and pierced straight through the heart, right where the spiritual core should have been.
For the vast majority of Servants, this would have been an instantly fatal wound.
That was, of course, assuming the target was the Heroic Spirit known as Vlad III.
"——!!"
Chiron's arrow had indeed pierced the unguarded Lancer.
Yet not only did it fail to destroy him—Dracula didn't even furrow his brow.
What flowed from the wound in his chest wasn't blood, but an unknown substance resembling solidified black shadows.
"I can feel that it hit… yet it didn't produce the effect of a hit," Chiron muttered grimly.
"Now you really are a monster, through and through."
"If this were earlier, that arrow would have killed me, wouldn't it?"
Dracula spread his arms wide, as if embracing the night itself, and introduced himself with theatrical enthusiasm.
"Unfortunately—what stands before you now is not the Black Faction's Lancer, Vlad III…"
"But the Prince of Darkness feared by the entire world—Dracula!"
With cruel, blood-red eyes, Dracula slowly swept his gaze across the battlefield. He opened his mouth, revealing sharp fangs, and locked onto his next target.
"Stop playing creepy theatrics!"
Perhaps irritated by how much attention the vampire was stealing, Astolfo spurred his hippogriff forward. Gripping his golden lance tightly, he took advantage of his mount's ability to fly and closed the distance in an instant.
The knight's lance gleamed with golden light as it shot forward like a bullet, thrusting straight at the vampire!
"No—!"
The shout of warning came from Chiron, but it was already too late.
Astolfo's lance was seized firmly—by Dracula's bare hand.
"What?!"
Astolfo wasn't just shocked that the vampire could stop his lance with one hand.
He was even more stunned by the fact that his Noble Phantasm's effect hadn't activated at all.
Hey, wait—wasn't this thing supposed to make you fall the moment it touched you?!
Fall! Where's the fall?!
Dracula paid no attention to Astolfo's silent protest. Tightening his grip, he crushed the golden lance with nothing but brute strength, warping the Noble Phantasm out of shape.
"Hahahaha!"
The vampire let out a terrifying laugh as he lunged straight at Astolfo.
Still mounted and unable to dodge, Astolfo was instantly slammed against the castle wall, pinned there by the monstrous old man.
"Hey—don't go molesting people!"
To be fair, with his Monstrous Strength skill, Astolfo shouldn't have been completely unable to resist.
But the level of insanity of his opponent was far beyond anything Astolfo could have imagined.
"Ah—ah!"
The instant the vampire bared his fangs, Astolfo was sent flying by a powerful kick from Chiron's hind leg, narrowly avoiding the tragedy of being "bitten" by that creepy old man.
Groaning as he staggered back to his feet, Astolfo called out in thanks, "Much appreciated, Centaur-sensei~!"
Chiron didn't reply. He simply nocked an arrow and, without hesitation, fired at the vampire.
The arrow pierced Dracula's body—but in the blink of an eye, the wound closed and vanished as if it had never existed.
That had never been Chiron's goal to begin with.
The moment Dracula was hit, Chiron sprang backward on all four legs, rapidly opening distance between himself and that grotesque enemy.
"Damn centaur!"
Denied his blood, the vampire roared in irritation and hurled the deformed golden lance—Astolfo's weapon—straight at them.
Bang!
The lance was knocked out of the air.
A holy banner fluttered in the wind.
Standing before the vampire was a pure, sacred light capable of crushing all wickedness.
"Ruler—!!!"
Jeanne merely stared coldly at the vampire hovering in midair.
"Vlad III… no. A being that is both a vampire and a Yggdmillennia Master…"
"What a pitiful monster you've become."
The girl summoned by the Greater Grail had already judged this vampire to be the greatest factor threatening the Holy Grail War itself.
If this creature were allowed to continue unchecked, all of Romania might be turned into hell in a single night.
One only had to look at the countless vampires clinging to the castle walls to understand how he would treat ordinary people.
If things went wrong, the entire nation of Romania could vanish from the map.
With that thought, Jeanne raised her left hand high and declared in a clear, resounding voice:
"By the authority of the Ruler—Jeanne d'Arc, I command all Servants gathered here, by Command Spell!"
"Immediately defeat the vampire who was once known as Vlad III!"
The Command Spells engraved on her left arm erupted with brilliant light.
At the same time, every Servant present felt invisible chains of compulsion wrap around them—along with a massive surge of magical energy reinforcing their bodies.
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