Chapter 200: Love Is Indeed a Grave

Feeling the searing pain on her face, Medea was both shocked and furious, lifting her head to glare at Bai Zeming and Zhao Yun with her sky-blue eyes.

At the same time, white magical light erupted from her body, continuously repairing the gruesome blood hole in her chest and abdomen.

Seeing this, Bai Zeming was slightly surprised—this woman’s vitality was stronger than he’d imagined.

Of course, it might also be that she had stolen enough life force, accumulating magical energy that granted her greater resilience.

If that were true, Bai Zeming could not let her escape!

Just as he decided to have Zhao Yun finish Medea, a calm voice rose from below the Yanmou Temple.

“Who can explain what’s going on here?”

“...”

Bai Zeming froze, then sharply turned his head.

There stood a middle-aged man in gray pajamas, barefoot on the ground, beside him a unconscious monk, gazing up at him from over a hundred meters away.

Seeing the calm face of the middle-aged man, Bai Zeming’s expression grew complex.

Katsuo Sōichirō, teacher at Sōgakukan School, Caster’s second Master.

In the original story, he was jokingly called the Eighth Class, “Teacher,” a formidable presence.

Before becoming a teacher, Katsuo Sōichirō had been a member of a mysterious assassination organization, relentlessly honing his physical conditioning and killing techniques for decades, granting him immense combat prowess; after being magically enhanced by Caster, he could even face off directly against Heroic Spirits.

If Bai Zeming remembered correctly, Katsuo Sōichirō had once even defeated Saber single-handedly, becoming the first Master in the Fifth Holy Grail War to tear apart a Heroic Spirit.

“So it’s Teacher Katsuo...”

Bai Zeming turned to face Katsuo Sōichirō and smiled lightly: “Your sleep quality is truly enviable—outside, the battle has reached this state, yet you’re still able to sleep.”

“That’s precisely what confuses me.”

Katsuo Sōichirō remained calm, turning to look at Medea beside him: “Can you explain?”

The moment Katsuo appeared, Medea had already conjured a new hood with magic to cover her injured face.

Hearing his words, she seemed flustered and hurriedly said: “I just didn’t want to disturb you...”

Katsuo glanced at the collapsed ruins of Yanmou Temple and said calmly: “Even now, with the battle this intense?”

Medea fell silent, seemingly unable to answer Katsuo’s question.

Bai Zeming looked from Medea to Katsuo below, understanding: “So this operation was carried out behind your back, Teacher Katsuo?”

Medea snapped her head up, glaring at Bai Zeming: “You—”

“What do you mean ‘you’!” Bai Zeming cut in harshly. “I haven’t finished yet. Not only this operation, but even your killings of innocent civilians to steal magical energy—did Teacher Katsuo even know about that?”

“That’s not true!”

Medea shouted back, then nervously turned to Katsuo: “Sōichirō...”

Katsuo continued to gaze at her calmly: “Is it true?”

Medea fell silent. After a moment, she bit her lip and nodded slowly.

“I see.”

Katsuo Sōichirō nodded slowly, then turned to Bai Zeming: “You’re the student from the next class, right? Since Medea has done this, the situation is beyond repair, isn’t it?”

Bai Zeming sighed: “Unfortunately, yes.”

Katsuo Sōichirō’s gaze shifted slightly, his voice soft: “Then...”

Before he finished speaking, he moved—his right hand shot out like lightning toward the unconscious monk at his feet.

But just before his fingers touched the monk, a purple figure darted past, snatched the monk, and vanished dozens of meters away, landing between two collapsed buildings.

Without doubt, that purple silhouette was Rider—she who had been absent until now!

Seeing Medusa appear, Bai Zeming’s lips curled into a faint smile.

“Finally... where are the other monks?”

“All except this one have been moved outside the temple.”

“What about Yanmou Ichise?”

Medusa nodded, setting the monk down beside her.

Seeing this, Medea finally understood—no wonder Bai Zeming had been holding out alone; he’d been buying time so Medusa could evacuate all the hostages.

“Teacher Katsuo...”

Bai Zeming turned to look down at Katsuo Sōichirō: “I don’t understand—this monk was clearly rescued by you from the collapsing building, so why suddenly try to attack him?”

Katsuo Sōichirō paused, then whispered: “Because the situation is beyond repair.”

Bai Zeming’s expression grew complex: “So you still chose Medea?”

Katsuo Sōichirō remained calm: “I accepted her request—I have no reason to abandon it. Ultimately, this began because of me, so it must end because of me.”

“No matter what crimes Medea has committed, as her Master, I am her accomplice.”

Medea’s eyes shimmered with emotion; she whispered softly: “Sōichirō...”

Before she finished speaking, the stone tiles beneath Katsuo’s feet exploded, launching him like an arrow toward Medusa.

Medusa was startled, quickly leaping backward with the monk on her shoulder.

But Katsuo’s speed far exceeded human limits—his right arm, hanging at his side, shot out like a spring, striking dozens of invisible afterimages at Medusa’s vital points.

In the original UBW route, he had once killed Medusa himself.

But now, Medusa’s Master was no longer Matō Shinji; her stats and combat will far surpassed the version from school who had activated the Blood Temple.

“Shiiii—”

In an instant, the storm of fists was narrowly dodged by Medusa.

She stomped the ground, launching herself high into the air, gripping the monk’s robe with her left hand and hurling her chain-sword like a venomous snake emerging from a pond toward Katsuo.

“Puch—”

The venomous chain slashed across his shoulder, leaving a wound that spurted blood.

Yet Katsuo Sōichirō remained expressionless, ignoring the wound, continuing his pursuit of Medusa.

“Sōichirō!”

Seeing this, Medea cried out in alarm, her cloak instantly transforming into bat-like wings as she rushed desperately toward Katsuo Sōichirō.

Bai Zeming sighed softly, exchanging a glance with Zhao Yun beside him.

Zhao Yun understood at once—he spurred his white steed, intercepting Medea midair.

Thus, Bai Zeming and Zhao Yun engaged Medea in aerial combat.

Meanwhile, Katsuo Sōichirō and Medusa chased each other through the ruins of Yanmou Temple.

But this time, the battlefield was far wider than a classroom—Medusa could fully exploit Rider’s high mobility, leaping and dodging while continuously hurling her chain-sword, leaving wound after wound.

Honestly, Bai Zeming felt sympathy for Medea and Katsuo Sōichirō, this tragic pair.

But sadly, Medea had already committed countless murders, stealing over a hundred lives; and Katsuo, as a former assassin, had spilled plenty of innocent blood himself.

Killing this Master and Servant pair brought Bai Zeming no psychological burden whatsoever.

As the great battle raged within Yanmou Temple, thunderous explosions suddenly erupted outside the temple gates.

Bai Zeming froze, halting his movement, turning toward the source of the sound.

In the distant sky, golden ripples appeared, and countless powerful Noble Phantasms shot forth like artillery barrages, pulverizing the forests far below.

“King’s Treasure?!”

Bai Zeming’s eyes widened in shock: “Is King Golden Flash intervening?”

“Now?!”

Bad—Rin Tohsaka and Emiya Shirō were already no match for Heracles.

With Gilgamesh unexpectedly appearing and joining the battle, the situation outside the gates may be even worse than he feared!

“No more delays!”

Bai Zeming shouted: “Uncle Zhao, I know you don’t want to kill women, but the situation is critical—we can’t afford to wait any longer. You must end her now!”

“...”

Zhao Yun paused, then sighed deeply, withdrawing his spear and reining in his horse, leaving Medea an opening.

Medea took the bait, diving downward, her eyes locked on her wounded husband below—her mind held only one thought: return to Katsuo.

“Puch—”

The silver spearhead pierced her from behind, bursting through her chest in a spray of blood.

Agony surged like a tide—Medea’s pupils contracted as she turned her head slightly, staring in disbelief at the white horse general suddenly appearing behind her.

—Reverse Spear!

Zhao Yun gazed at Medea with sorrow, then pulled the silver Dragon Spear free with force.

Medea fell like a broken kite, crashing with a thud into the ruins below.

Bai Zeming flew down, asking urgently: “She won’t survive this time, will she?”

“No,” Zhao Yun turned his spear, his crimson hair fading back to black, his expression calm. “Because this time, I’ve completely destroyed her heart.”

When they landed, Katsuo Sōichirō had already reached the spot where Medea fell.

His condition was no better than hers—his entire body was covered in gruesome wounds, blood gushing continuously, leaving his consciousness hazy.

Yet still, he held the gravely wounded Medea in his arms, gazing at her elfin face and her pale blue eyes filled with longing, and said calmly:

“Don’t grieve. People like us—no matter when we die—aren’t innocent.”

“...”

Medea paused, then seemed to understand, offering a gentle smile.

As she struggled to lift her hand, using her last strength to touch Katsuo’s cheek, she realized his head had already drooped—his eyes had lost their former light.

Katsuo Sōichirō was, after all, merely flesh and blood—he lacked the immense vitality of a Heroic Spirit.

Under conditions where blood was nearly drained, he could not endure as long as Medea.

Gazing at the dimmed eyes before her, Medea froze slightly, then revealed a deep sorrow.

But this sorrow did not last long; she soon struggled to sit up, drawing the dead Katsugami Sōichirō into her arms, gently lowering her head to press against his neck.

The next instant, Medea’s body crumbled piece by piece from its edges, dissolving into shimmering specks of light and vanishing entirely into the air.

…Was it really that simple?

Bai Ze silently gazed at the ruins ahead.

He understood why Katsugami Sōichirō had insisted on fighting Medusa, yet seeing Medea die so easily from blind love, he could not help but sigh:

“Love is truly a grave!”

(End of Chapter)