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(Fate) Chapter 247: The Arrow That Once shot the a Perfect Goddess (3.1k words)
🕑 Added 2025-01-03 15:46:50 +0000 UTCAt this moment, aboard the radiant vessel soaring through the sky, there was someone besides Gilgamesh—a girl around twelve years old with dark skin and black hair.
Her name was Tiné Chelc, and she was the Master of Gilgamesh in this Holy Grail War.
Among all the Masters he had ever served under, Tiné was perhaps the most compatible with the King of Heroes.
Tiné respected and admired Gilgamesh from the depths of her heart, placing unwavering faith in his power. .
Yet she constantly worried about being a burden to him.
From the edge of the vessel, the girl gazed toward the distant forest.
The trees seemed almost alive, dancing as though animated by some unseen force.
Magical energy surged outward from the center, radiating an overwhelming and terrifying power making her frighten.
Their arrival, of course, did not go unnoticed by Promise and Enkidu.
So they subconsciously stopped what they were doing and turned their heads to look in the direction of Gilgamesh, who was speeding there.
"He really cares about you," Promise remarked playfully, glancing at Enkidu with a sly smile.
Then, as if realizing something, he paused.
He suddenly remembered that he had just borrowed Enkidu’s Chain of Heaven.
If Gilgamesh noticed, there was no doubt he’d be furious.
Enkidu smiled faintly but didn’t respond—primarily because she was still under the silence imposed by Promise’s paintbrush.
"Promise, do you want us to stop that nuisance from coming any closer?" Jason asked loudly, his voice laced with genuine concern.
Beside him, Jeanne d’Arc’s expression grew more serious.
Having pledged to help Promise secure victory in the Holy Grail War, she had long prepared herself for whatever challenges lay ahead.
“There’s no need. I’ve been waiting for him to arrive," Promise replied, shaking his head gently as he raised the pristine feathered paintbrush once more, drawing a few deliberate strokes in the air.
The strokes shimmered, and Enkidu’s silenced speech and hearing were restored.
By then, the radiant vessel had reached the skies above the forest, carrying Gilgamesh and his Master, Tiné.
Clad in gleaming golden armor, the King of Heroes looked down from above, locking eyes with Promise, who calmly returned his gaze from below.
For a moment, silence hung in the air.
Finally, Gilgamesh spoke, in an imposing tone.
"It seems you’re the one Enkidu mentioned a few days ago. And… I take it that the calamity of death—the Pale Rider—was your doing as well?”
The incident involving the Pale Rider’s elimination during the second night of the Holy Grail War certainly had not escaped Gilgamesh’s notice.
Well...Promise was not surprised by this observation.
Having just sparred with Enkidu, he had half-expected Gilgamesh to refer to him as a "mongrel" and launch into one of his infamous tirades.
Instead, Promise offered a faint smile, meeting Gilgamesh’s crimson gaze. In a measured, unhurried tone, he said:
"Enkidu suggested that I should paint a portrait of you. But… not everyone is worthy of being immortalized in my art."
When he finished speaking, the scene couldn't help but be quiet for a while.
"...A Servant?”
It was until, Tiné, who had been quietly observing from beside Gilgamesh, murmured softly, with a voice tinged with doubt.
Her voice was very low, mainly because she found Promise’s face vaguely familiar, as though she had seen him somewhere before.
Tiné was the chieftain of a prominent clan on this land, one with considerable influence and connections.
When Promise, a student of the Clock Tower’s Lord El-Melloi II, arrived in the region, she had received intelligence regarding him.
However, Promise, a seemingly ordinary man with no magical crests, had left far less of an impression on her compared to his peer, the prodigious mage and Master, Flat Escardos.
"He is not a Servant," Gilgamesh said, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly.
His words drew a surprised glance from Tine as he spoke.
"He is a Master, like you. But… he is no mage.
"In simpler terms, he is an ancient hero—a being who has survived from the Age of Gods to the present day."
Gilgamesh’s gaze bore into Promise as he continued, "Speak your name.
You have earned the right for it to be remembered by the King of Heroes."
As Enkidu had remarked to Gilgamesh during their battle a few days earlier, seeing Promise’s clear emerald eyes and glimpsing the essence of his soul had left no room for distaste.
For Gilgamesh, it was impossible to dislike someone like Promise.
Unless, of course, Gilgamesh were to learn that Promise had just casually borrowed the Chain of Heaven and that Enkidu had merely smiled helplessly and tacitly allowed it.
If that happened, there might indeed be a chance for the King of Heroes to dislike Promise.
"Promise," the man himself said calmly, introducing himself to Gilgamesh, the legendary King of Heroes.
"Promise..." Gilgamesh repeated the name softly, his expression thoughtful as he recalled what Enkidu had said about the painting just days earlier.
Thinking about all these, he instantly pieced together who the man before him truly was.
Once Gilgamesh fully understood Promise’s identity, even he couldn’t help but pause for a moment in surprise.
Then, suddenly, he burst into hearty laughter.
"So it’s you! No wonder my dear friend holds you in such regard. Ha! Hahaha! Indeed, if it is you, then you are worthy!
"Come now, raise your paintbrush and immortalize my glorious figure!
Etch it permanently into the heavens—I grant you this honor!"
As he spoke, Gilgamesh stood tall, arms crossed proudly before him, his head held high with his usual overwhelming arrogance.
Seeing this, Tiné on the side couldn't help but look at Gilgamesh with even more surprise.
As his Master, she knew better than anyone how unfathomably prideful Gilgamesh was.
"I said not just anyone is worthy of being etched into the sky or night,” Promise replied in a steady and unwavering tone. "As for you, standing here before me… you are not worthy!"
Tiné’s eyes widened further at Promise’s bold declaration.
She stared at him in disbelief, wondering who this person could be to speak so brazenly to Gilgamesh.
Then, a casual glance made her heart skip a beat, because her eyes caught sight of something utterly unexpected.
"Command Seals... How is this possible?!"
Her voice trembled.
"He’s a Master, not a Servant?!"
Tiné’s mind reeled at the revelation. She quickly tried to rationalize it, concluding it must be some kind of magical anomaly or exception.
"You’re not mistaken," Gilgamesh said coolly, breaking her train of thought. "He is not a Servant, nor even a Heroic Spirit."
His piercing gaze returned to Promise:
"Because he has never truly died. He has lived from the distant Age of Gods all the way to this very moment.
“And his identity? It’s hardly a mystery, Tiné. Because he hasn’t exactly been subtle. He painted the twelve Olympian gods, using the sky and the night as his canvas. Surely, with all these clues, you’ve figured out who he is by now.”
Upon hearing his words, Tiné frowned, lowering her head in thought.
After a brief moment, she suddenly looked up, her eyes filled with shock and realization as she stared at Promise and exclaimed,
"Could it be… you’re the hero from ancient Greek mythology—the one who made the flawless goddess of wisdom, Athena, cry for you?!"
Her words hung in the air, plunging the scene into an awkward silence.
Promise’s face darkened immediately.
Jason, unable to hold it in, was the first to burst into laughter.
His laughter spread quickly....and soon, even Gilgamesh was laughing heartily, and even Enkidu’s lips twitched into a faint smile.
Seriously?
'I have plenty of titles to choose from! The Hero of Queen Hera, the Walker of Fate, even the student of Centaur Sage Chiron would’ve been fine!'
'Why is it that the first thing everyone remembers is the fact that I made Athena cry?!'
Promise was utterly speechless, his mind flashing back to the image of Shirou Emiya in the library.
Although this isn’t exactly defamation, but if you all keep saying it like this, I’m really afraid that proud goddess will get so embarrassed that she would lose her temper, and without caring about anything else, come choke me herself!
The laughter of the others, combined with Promise’s visible exasperation, made Tiné, feeling awkward, subconsciously pinch the hem of her white dress.
"Don’t worry—you weren’t wrong. It’s exactly him!"
Gilgamesh, still laughing, reassured Tiné before turning back to Promise.
"To make the goddess of wisdom cry, to humiliate the goddess of fate, to hunt down the gods’ messengers, and to boldly declare that you would paint the heavens with the gods—then actually do it…"
“I never imagined this boring war could produce so many things to amuse me! Time and again, you bring joy to my heart, mortal.”
"But…"
At this point, Gilgamesh’s laughter faded, and his expression turned serious as he looked at the young man in front of him.
"This does not give you the right to interfere in the war between myself and her."
"That’s simple," Cutting off Enkidu before she could speak, Promise replied cheerfully.
"Why don’t you let Enkidu decide? See if she chooses me or you."
Hearing this, Enkidu was speechless for a moment, her gaze shifting toward Promise with quiet exasperation.
'I even let you play with the Chain of Heaven. Can’t you at least remove me from your little Book of Grudges by now?'
"Hmph, insolence!"
Gilgamesh raised his head, his prideful demeanor unshaken as he said.
"Do you truly believe you can stand on equal footing with the King of Heroes?”
"Enkidu, make your choice,"
Promise said, ignoring Gilgamesh entirely.
His smile widened as he turned back to Enkidu.
"Who will it be? Me or Gilgamesh?"
To be honest, Enkidu didn’t want to choose either of them.
Yet she quickly realized she had no way out, after all, both of them were staring at her expectantly.
One with amused curiosity, the other with unshakable confidence in his inevitable victory.
Sighing softly, Enkidu finally relented.
"I Apologize, Gil, but I must finish my battle with Promise first.”
'After all, I already promised to let him paint his picture.'
What?!
Gilgamesh’s eyes widened as he looked at Enkidu in disbelief.
It was clear he had never expected Enkidu to choose Promise over him.
Watching Gilgamesh’s reaction, Promise almost burst into laughter.
Well..he managed to hold it back, but the grin on his face made no attempt to hide his amusement.
Not far away, Jeanne d’Arc, who was watching the battle, had a look of confusion on her face, because she suddenly discovered that the man, who wielded the Sword of Judgment seemed far different from what she had envisioned.
"This is Promise," Jason remarked knowingly, as though sensing her thoughts.
Yes, this was Promise.
"Don’t mind him," Promise said casually, cutting off any further protests from Gilgamesh as he turned back to Enkidu.
"Come on, let’s continue the painting we haven’t yet finished!”
As soon as he finished speaking, a painting appeared in his hand once more.
The painting depicted a beautiful woman with golden hair and emerald eyes, wearing a crown made of woven golden wheat.
Unlike the imposing majesty of Hera, this figure exuded a warm, gentle demeanor.
Beside her was a figure Enkidu recognized—a goddess she had seen in the underworld conjured by the Pale Rider: Persephone, Queen of the Underworld.
In the painting, Persephone held the hand of a beautiful woman as they strolled through a vibrant field of flowers bathed in golden sunlight.
This was one of the twelve Olympian god paintings—Demeter, the Goddess of Agriculture.
Promise held the painting up and prayed to Demeter.
The goddess swiftly answered his call, and the forest around them began to grow explosively.
The ground burst forth with strange and vivid flowers, transforming the area into a sacred grove reminiscent of the Age of Gods.
Promise didn’t stop there.
He pulled out two more paintings.
From one stepped a monstrous giant with a hundred eyes, its terrifying gaze sweeping over the battlefield.
From the other emerged the fearsome true form of the Three-Headed Hellhound, Cerberus.
"...The twelve Olympian god paintings, and the Judgment Sword that ultimately judged the monster Typhon.”
Tiné muttered to herself, her hands clenching instinctively as her gaze shifted toward Gilgamesh.
The latter noticed her reaction and frowned. "What is it? Surely, you don’t think I’d lose to him?"
"N-No! Of course not!" Tiné stammered, quickly explaining herself. "It’s just… I was wondering if you could…"
If you could team up with your friend Enkidu to deal with him.
He’s far too dangerous!
And he’s a Master.
His Servant hasn’t even made a move yet!
However, she did not finish the following words halfway through her sentence. Instead, she chose to lower her head and obediently retreat to the back.
Gilgamesh’s mood improved slightly at Tiné’s retreat, though his face still bore an irritated scowl.
He crossed his arms and continued to watch Promise and Enkidu’s battle with a sour expression.
"...Aren’t you going to join them?"
While the Centaur and the three-headed dog of hell were fighting Enkidu, Jeanne d’Arc, unable to contain her curiosity, turned to Jason and directed her question to the horse contentedly grazing beside him.
The horse glanced at Jeanne, then turned its back on her, flicking its tail dismissively.
"It says you’re meddling in things that don’t concern you,"
Jason translated on behalf of brother horse.
Jeanne blinked, momentarily unsure how to respond to such an unusual rebuff.
"Tch, so many annoying insects!”
At this moment, Gilgamesh, who had finally understood what was happening, realized that this entire "battle" had merely been a canvas for a painting, and that Enkidu had chosen to participate in Promise's creation rather than align with him.
He had been played.
This realization darkened his expression, and he vented his simmering anger on the prying creatures watching the fight from the shadows, clearing the area of their interference and restoring quiet.
The battle continued until just before sunset.
As the horizon began to glow with the colors of twilight, Promise and Enkidu finally halted their clash.
At the same time, a painting appeared in Promise' hand.
The image depicted Enkidu in all their ethereal beauty, standing amidst an ancient forest.
The trees responded to the divine weapon created by the gods, the Chain of Heaven that linked the earth to the skies.
Their softly glowing hair and transcendent features conveyed a beauty that defied both logic and gender.
When Promise revealed the completed painting, the forest seemed to hold its breath.
Even Gilgamesh froze for a moment, stunned.
With a single glance at the artwork, all the irritation and lingering anger he had felt vanished completely.
"Thank you,” Enkidu said with genuine gratitude as the forest around her trembled in resonance.
"Of course!" Jason interjected proudly, lifting his head high. "After all, this is a painting by Promise!"
Jeanne d’Arc’s eyes sparkled as she gazed at the masterpiece.
Though she had no personal desire or need for such things, she couldn’t help but feel a sudden longing—an almost irrational wish to have her own image captured by Promise’s brush.
Especially since his canvas was none other than the sky and the night itself.
To be immortalized in such a way would mean to exist eternally.
Promise smiled at Jason’s comment but said nothing.
Instead, he turned toward Gilgamesh.
"The painting is complete. Now... let us begin today’s true Holy Grail War."
"King from ancient epics, draw your sword here and now,"
Before anyone could react, Promise stepped forward.
In the final moments of sunlight, he reached into the fading rays of dusk and drew forth a golden longbow.
At the same time, from the first glimmer of moonlight rising in the sky, he pulled out a silver arrow.
This was no ordinary arrow.
It was the arrow that had once shot down the flawless goddess.
An arrow that even immortal gods feared.
The sudden surge of power caused the ground to tremble.
Stars seemed to gather in response, their brilliance illuminating the battlefield.
Gilgamesh hesitated only briefly, his crimson eyes narrowing before he burst into wild laughter.
Grabbing the panicked Tiné, he unceremoniously tossed her toward Jason.
The latter barely managed to catch her, scowling in frustration.
"I came here to fight in the Holy Grail War, not to babysit!"
Gilgamesh, however, ignored Jason entirely, and drew forth his own weapon.
The sword that could sever worlds—the Sword of Rupture, EA.
As he held the sword high, its unfathomable power pulsed through the air.
Enkidu, observing the scene, glanced between Gilgamesh and Promise.
Promise stood bathed in the glow of both the setting sun and the rising moon, holding a bow forged of light and an arrow drawn from the heavens themselves.
It was at this moment that Enkidu fully understood.
Promise’s true purpose for seeking them out had not merely been to fulfill their promise to create a painting.
This entire encounter, from the beginning, had been orchestrated to lure Gilgamesh into the fray.
This was the moment Promise had been preparing for—the true Holy Grail War.
But… what exactly was his goal?
Was he trying to eliminate Gilgamesh right here and now?
This thought briefly crossed Enkidu’s mind before she dismissed it.
If Promise’s aim were to force Gilgamesh out of the War, he would not have drawn the bow and arrow. Instead, he would have summoned the Judgment Sword.
"I see now. He’s sending a message,"
Reflecting on her earlier conversation with Promise, Enkidu finally understood everything.
She smiled as she turned her gaze to the figure in the moonlight—a boy clad in white, standing in the sky with the silver arrow nocked on a golden bowstring.
"He’s telling everyone: I am part of this Holy Grail War."
At the moment of speaking, the silhouette of a beautiful goddess appeared in the moonlight.
The goddess extended her arms and embraced the boy, guiding his movements.
Together, they pulled the bowstring, drawing the moonlight into the silver arrow aimed directly at Gilgamesh.
At the same time, Gilgamesh raised EA, the Sword of Rupture, high above his head.
The weapon’s power distorted the very fabric of the night sky, bending the stars into spiraling chaos.
Amid his wild laughter, Gilgamesh swung EA downward with all his might.
In that exact instant, Promise, with the help of the goddess by his side, released his arrow.
.
.
.
The world fell silent.
For one fleeting moment, all sound seemed to vanish as the arrow and the sword’s devastating force collided.
That night, in the land known as Snowfield, not a single soul could find rest.
.
.
.
