Stifling her emotions, but putting all the indignation she had built up until a moment before
into her magical energy, she leapt at the monster that was her Master.
In place of the fiend’s magical energy, she had the temporary supply Saber had leant her. She
poured most of it into her Noble Phantasm.
“...Clad me in black sharpness...”
“Unfeeling Patrolling Spirits: Zabaniya.”
....
Sigma wondered.
Wondered why, in this situation, he remembered the face of his ex-compatriot.
The scene before his eyes bore no resemblance.
The girl Assassin transformed the dense mist that shrouded her body into numerous shapes—massive beasts, great serpents, beautiful women, giants—that somehow attacked the man
who seemed to be a hematophage—no, a monster called a Dead Apostle—with physical force.
She attacked the man-shaped monster who delightedly danced across the battlefield, sometimes dodging, sometimes having a limb torn off and immediately regrowing it.
“Ha ha ha! Are those jinnīya? I’m amazed your control extends to them! Really, there’s never
a dull moment with you! I’ll let you command even more powerful jinnīya if you accept me.
Don’t you want to be like the great Sulayman?”
“. . . I do not control them. You insult my great forebears and their teachings . . .!” Assassin
whispered with hatred, then leapt into the fray herself and lunged at her enemy alongside the
great beasts and giants formed from her mist.
Seeing the fiend take even that assault and regenerate with a laugh, however, Assassin could
not help narrowing her eyes.
“Monster . . .”