"That's… me?"
Atalanta rubbed her eyes in disbelief. Her hunter-honed vision was supposed to be razor-sharp, yet right now she couldn't trust what she was seeing. Standing right beside Adam were two exact copies of herself.
One in her normal Archer state.
One transformed into a Berserker after invoking the Divine Punishment of the Boar.
For a split second she wondered if Jeanne Alter's Mad Enhancement had finally cracked her sanity and she was hallucinating. Refusing to accept it, Atalanta nocked two arrows and fired straight at both figures.
The shot aimed at Atalanta (Berserker) was shredded apart by razor claws before it could connect.
The one aimed at Atalanta (Archer) was met by an identical arrow; the two shafts collided dead-center and spun harmlessly off course.
Only then did it sink in—these weren't illusions. They were real.
Atalanta stood frozen, completely thrown.
The two Atalantas who had just swatted her arrows looked down at her with matching puzzled frowns. They were just as lost about the situation.
Atalanta (Archer) turned to Adam. "Master, what's going on? I remember I was just playing with Jack. How did I suddenly end up here?"
Atalanta (Berserker) stared at the one below, equally confused. "Weren't both my Archer and Berserker selves already with you, Master? So who's that Archer-version 'me' down there?"
Adam quickly explained how he had summoned the pair and exactly who the Atalanta on the ground really was.
"In short, this is the France Singularity. Tama, you remember being summoned here by Jeanne Alter, right? Then you can figure out what's happening with the one down there."
The moment the words left his mouth, Atalanta (Archer) recalled the events of the France Singularity and everything clicked.
"So that's how it is. I understand now, Master. If it's a version of me who can't act on her own will, then it's only right for the sane me to end it. That's why you called us here, isn't it?"
"You guessed correctly, Tama," Adam said. "The you from this Singularity must be suffering, forced to do things she hates. Letting the rational you handle it is the cleanest solution."
Atalanta (Berserker) listened quietly, not fully grasping the details since she lacked those memories, but she didn't need to. Her gaze sharpened on the Atalanta below. "I don't really get the whole story, but that 'me' down there is Master's enemy, right? If she's in the way… she should disappear."
Her expression turned feral. The Berserker side of her was noticeably more unhinged than the Archer.
Both Atalantas made their intentions crystal clear—they wanted the one below gone. Atalanta (Berserker) to clear Adam's path, Atalanta (Archer) to free her other self from unwilling servitude.
The original Atalanta stared up at the two versions of herself beside Adam. She still didn't fully understand how they had appeared, but one thing was certain: if the maddened her could be taken out by these two rational selves fighting for humanity, it would be a perfectly fated end.
She decided she would hold back during the fight and let them finish her.
But just as she braced herself for that dramatic showdown—
Atalanta froze.
Because she saw Adam gently stroking the heads of both Atalanta (Archer) and Atalanta (Berserker).
Sensing their fierce fighting spirit, he had reached out on pure instinct to encourage them.
"I'm counting on you two, my little Tamas."
His hands moved with the practiced technique he had perfected over years, petting them exactly the way they loved.
The instant his fingers touched their heads, both Atalantas lost control of their faces. A deep, soul-soothing pleasure rolled through them. Their ears twitched, their heads instinctively pressed into his palm for more, and soft, involuntary cat sounds slipped out.
"Meow~"
"Meow~"
Their tails—green and silver—curled into perfect heart shapes and began wagging happily. Years of Adam's affection had trained them to offer even their most private spots for his touch, begging shamelessly.
"Ha?!?!"
The Atalanta below had seen everything.
She stared at the man she had scorned moments ago for embracing two women—now petting two versions of herself, both of whom had sworn the exact same vow of chastity.
The shock hit harder than if she had just learned her patron goddess Artemis was a hopeless romantic airhead.
This was impossible. Absolutely impossible!
A strange sense of betrayal surged inside her—and the craziest part was that the betrayal came from herself.
Anger flared. She gripped her bow tighter. She had planned to hold back and let the other two win, but now? She was going all out.
No matter what, she would knock those two copies beside Adam flat on their backs! Then she was going to demand answers about what the hell was going on!
Why did a few headpats from him make them look like that—like they were desperately craving more?!
Adam watched the two Atalantas melt under his touch and wished he could keep going, but unfortunately it was fight time.
He slowly withdrew his hands.
Both Atalantas looked visibly disappointed, clearly not ready to stop.
Seeing their dejected faces, Adam felt a pang of guilt. To fire them up again, he offered the ultimate bait. "Once you finish the job, there'll be plenty more headpats as a reward."
The two instantly perked up. They locked their gazes on the Atalanta below, their fighting spirit now ten times fiercer.
The three Atalantas stared at each other for a few tense seconds in eerie silence—the calm before the storm.
The original Atalanta's cat-like pupils bored into the pair above as she ran through tactics. Even though her opponents were herself, she still had advantages. She knew her own style best. Since she usually hunted alone, two of her working together might actually trip each other up. If she could predict their shots and movements, she still had a chance. She would wait for a coordination slip and take them down one by one.
The next second, all three moved at once.
Atalanta (Berserker) and Atalanta (Archer) circled from left and right, trying to box her in.
Just as she predicted, their coordination faltered—they didn't attack in sync.
Atalanta focused first on the left-side Atalanta (Archer), planning to drop her and then deal with the Berserker.
But the moment they clashed, the difference became brutally clear.
In pure speed she was completely outmatched. Atalanta (Archer) pulled ahead by dozens of meters, leaving her constantly on the defensive.
Why? How could the same person be so much faster?
Then she spotted an opening and fired, perfectly predicting the dodge path. There was no way Atalanta (Archer) could avoid it.
What happened next left her stunned.
In the time it took her to loose one arrow, Atalanta (Archer) had already unleashed more than ten. Her single shot was swallowed whole in a storm of projectiles.
Speed wasn't the only thing she lost. Her firing rate was overwhelmingly inferior—one arrow from her gave the other time for ten.
At that moment Atalanta realized something devastating: even though they were the same person, she was no match for Adam's Atalanta (Archer). They weren't even on the same level.
After getting completely suppressed by the Archer version, she switched targets to Atalanta (Berserker), hoping the maddened one might be easier.
She fired several arrows.
Atalanta (Berserker) simply swiped them all out of the air with her claws.
Then the Berserker fired back—one arrow packed with massive pink-black magical energy.
The timing was perfect. Atalanta had almost no room to dodge.
She tried to deflect it the same way she had seen earlier, firing three rapid shots at the incoming arrow.
But all three were effortlessly knocked aside by the overwhelming power.
The numerical gap was simply too great.
After clashing with both versions, Atalanta realized bitterly that she wasn't a match for either of them alone.
The fight ended in less than ten seconds.
The defeated Atalanta lay sprawled on the torn grass like a dead fish.
She now understood she had never stood a chance. Even one-on-one she would have been completely overpowered.
The two victors stood on either side of her, bows drawn, arrows nocked and aimed at her head. One release and she would disappear.
At the very end, Atalanta (Archer) looked down at her fallen self and asked, "Do you have any last words?"
The fallen Atalanta turned her head weakly. Of course she did.
The memory of the two of them melting under Adam's headpats flashed through her mind. Anger replaced the exhaustion on her face.
"You are me… so why did you break your oath to Artemis?!"
"Well… it couldn't be helped. The one we fell for is Master, after all," Atalanta (Archer) replied, blushing furiously from both shyness and guilt over breaking her vow.
Atalanta (Berserker) was far more direct. "My heart now belongs completely to Master. Sorry, past me. I've become a house cat who can't live without him anymore."
Atalanta's jaw dropped at the outrageous statement. She could have sworn the Berserker even sounded proud.
"And besides," Atalanta (Berserker) continued, thinking of a certain someone, "Lady Artemis herself also…"
Atalanta's eyes widened. "What?! What do you mean by that?! What did Lady Artemis do?!"
Atalanta (Archer) nodded in agreement. "Exactly. It's not our fault. Lady Artemis started it first."
Atalanta wanted to demand more answers, but the two others, looking somewhat guilty, quickly finished her off.
In the end she never learned what the Moon Goddess Artemis had done in front of her two counterparts that made them abandon their principles so thoroughly.
After dealing with the Singularity Atalanta, both Atalantas raced back to Adam's side, looking at him expectantly.
"Master, you promised us a reward," Atalanta (Berserker) said without a shred of shame.
"I… I want one too," Atalanta (Archer) added shyly, fidgeting.
Adam kept his word and gave them the full headpat treatment—hair, ears, and especially their tails. Every stroke along their tails made them tremble with pleasure.
Before long both Atalantas had completely melted. Their eyes were half-closed, pupils rolled back, faces showing pure bliss as they lost themselves in the affection.
Adam might have gone a little too far. Their expressions had gone beyond relaxed and into completely broken.
After spoiling them thoroughly, he sent both back to Chaldea to rest.
Once the two Atalantas were gone, Adam felt a pair of resentful gazes burning into his back.
He turned around to see Kiyohime and Draco staring at him with obvious jealousy.
To prevent an actual fire in his Chaldea—figuratively and literally—he spent quite some time pampering both dragons until their moods finally calmed down.
After that, Adam shifted his attention to another battlefield.
Vlad III versus Saint George.
Facing that vampire, Adam's gaze moved toward a certain Executor from the Burial Agency in his Servant list—the one who loved hunting vampires.
***
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