Bazett finally understood—Tenkei Shiomi wasn't just the strongest current Sealing Designation Executor.
The Magus evaluation system couldn't even begin to measure his strength. His fight with Lancer had already surpassed the limits of what a human could ever hope to reach.
If she had to face Lancer herself without using a Noble Phantasm, Bazett wasn't sure how long she could withstand the onslaught in his current state.
Every step the two took shattered the ground beneath them.
Each clash of their weapons sent shockwaves tearing through trees, snapping streetlights like twigs.
The park's paths and lawns were scarred with destruction. The streetlamp where Shiomi had first appeared was now a crumpled wreck, flung meters away, leaving a crater in the ground.
Their speed had gone beyond what Bazett's eyes could follow—even with her vision reinforced by mana, all she could see were afterimages in two blurring colors, streaking past each other.
Only when they paused could she catch fleeting glimpses of their forms.
The wind howled low, and the air itself seemed to scream in protest against the laws of physics being so violently broken.
The abandoned park was being devastated in a way it had never known.
This wasn't a sanctioned Holy Grail War battle—but it was every bit as intense as one.
It was as if the long-buried battles of the Age of Heroes had returned to life here and now.
Crimson lightning ripped across the sky. Roaring shockwaves split the earth.
"I take back what I said," Lancer grinned. "Those moves, that spear technique, that footwork… they're just like mine. You were taught by the same person."
Shiomi slowly shifted his stance, circling to find another opening.
"No wonder our master always compared me to you. Your skills do the name justice."
"Hmph." Lancer gave a derisive snort. "Still didn't expect you to be using the exact same spear as her. Even I'm a little surprised."
When he first saw the weapon in Shiomi's hand, Lancer had wondered if the man's ancestors had snuck into the Land of Shadows and stolen the prototype spear from there.
"I told you—it's for the same reason as you." Shiomi launched another thrust.
That same origin. That same master.
Even separated by a thousand years, when they met again on the battlefield of the Holy Grail War, the living and the Heroic Spirit could still clash on equal ground.
No matter how they adjusted their tactics, their spearwork stemmed from the same discipline. Every subtle movement was enough to read the other's next step.
"To be honest," Lancer said, his fighting spirit surging with the heat of battle, "we Servants don't exactly have much free will. I thought this would just be another routine duel… but to cross spears with someone like you? That's rare."
"Right back at you, Lancer." Shiomi flicked his spear upward, deflecting Lancer's downward strike, then swept the butt of his weapon at Lancer's ribs—predictably, Lancer dodged with ease.
"I'm already enough as Master's most prized disciple. So just go sit back down where you belong."
Hearing that, Lancer spun his spear lightly and rested it across his shoulder, holding it one-handed.
"Honestly, even if it's from our master, I've never cared much for the title 'top disciple,'" Lancer said with a sly grin, sensing a way to push Shiomi even further. "But if some third-rate pretender wants to call himself the 'one and only'—yeah, that's not gonna fly."
Cú Chulainn had realized it already—Shiomi wanted to defeat him using the exact same techniques.
And it was precisely because of that that Lancer wouldn't go down easily.
Besides, Shiomi was definitely still holding something back.
If it came down to both of them unleashing the true name of their red spears, aiming to pierce each other's hearts and die together… Lancer would only find that ending disappointing.
"Then... I'll give you what you want," Shiomi said coolly, lifting his spear one-handed.
He reached his left hand into the empty air beside him—and slowly gripped something unseen.
Lancer's expression shifted again. A look of stunned disbelief crept across his face.
"What's the matter, Lancer? Don't tell me... you don't have a second spear?" Shiomi smirked, the corners of his lips curling into a taunting grin.
"No matter how many spears you've got, there's only one thing I need to do!"
Cú Chulainn roared, unable to contain his excitement. The rush of blood and surging mana within him burned like wildfire.
Twin spears.
Back in the Land of Shadows, Cú Chulainn hadn't had the luxury of time. Mastering a single spear had been enough to make him nearly invincible on the battlefield.
In the end, it was his own flaws that brought about his death—not lack of skill.
He never imagined someone else would have both the time and the talent to fully master their master's ultimate technique. A small part of him couldn't help but envy that.
But more than envy, what truly mattered... was getting to fight.
The battle resumed, and Lancer's attacks came fiercer, deadlier than ever.
Yet, just as he had hoped, Tenkei Shiomi wasn't thrown off by dual-wielding spears.
Though spears were meant to be wielded with both hands, Shiomi moved as if they were extensions of his body—fast, fluid, and precise. He unleashed the full potential of the Soaring Spear of Piercing Death's superior reach and weight.
Attack left? The right followed.
Strike right? The left answered in kind.
No openings. No imbalance. No weak side.
Both spears struck with the same devastating force.
It was like facing their master himself.
There was no hope of targeting the "weaker side"—because neither spear was. If Lancer wanted to win, he'd have to overpower both at once.
Before long, Lancer began to feel the burden of being a Servant compared to a living warrior.
Tied to the limitations of his class, even with access to Runes, he often avoided using them—too troublesome. And as a result, he wasn't as sharp with them as he once was.
So when he saw the twin spears arc outward in mirrored swings, summoning a whirling inferno, even he had to back off from the firestorm.
He knew full well—Magic Resistance or not—taking a Rune-enhanced blow like that wouldn't be pretty.
"You bastard! Using Runes mid-fight—that's cheating!" Lancer barked.
Shiomi slammed the tip of his right-hand spear into the ground.
"What a ridiculous complaint. You're our master's disciple too, aren't you? Runecraft is as basic as it gets."
The cracked ground surged to life, blades of magical energy erupting all around Lancer, closing in from every side.
Only thanks to his elite Agility did Cú Chulainn manage to find a narrow path through the trap, dodging by the skin of his teeth.
"Damn... I've got no comeback when it's a fellow student saying that," Lancer muttered with a helpless smile.
Of course, he wasn't really complaining.
After all—they had the same master.