The sight of him still having strength to spare made Saber instantly understand Gilgamesh's intentions. Her expression turned grave as she murmured,
"Is Archer trying to wear them down this way...?"
After all, Gilgamesh only needed to keep the Gate of Babylon open, and an endless supply of Noble Phantasms would fight for him. In contrast, Sakutsuki and the others, battling amid flashing blades and flying weapons, were constantly draining their stamina, strength, and magical energy.
As one side gained while the other weakened, that endless rain of Noble Phantasms would eventually swallow the three of them whole!
Should she warn them? Saber pressed her lips together, hesitating.
But if even Saber could see the problem, how could Sakutsuki, who knew Gilgamesh so well, possibly remain unaware?
It was simply that he could not casually give up such a perfect opportunity for training!
The Gate of Babylon still shone brilliantly, but after such intense combat, Sakutsuki's arms had begun to ache.
Even with a Servant's physical abilities, he was still human.
"Clang!" Another pair of Gan Jiang and Mo Ye shattered. Sakutsuki's expression did not change as the sphere of light in his hand stretched out, transforming into fresh black-and-white twin blades that he gripped and swung forward...
The ache in his arms made Sakutsuki pause slightly, and because of that tiny error, Gan Jiang and Mo Ye merely brushed past the incoming Noble Phantasm. The weapon resembling a Fangtian Halberd continued unabated, flying straight toward Sakutsuki's right shoulder!
Just as Sakutsuki was about to use Imaginary Numbers Magic, a bright yellow spear tip shot out and pierced through the Fangtian Halberd. Fragments of the weapon scattered in every direction before dissolving into magical energy.
When he turned his head, Lancer had already withdrawn Gae Buidhe. His spearwork was as solid and steady as ever, though the smug smile at the corner of his lips could not be concealed.
Knowing that he had lost their contest, Sakutsuki regretfully snapped his fingers. Rho Aias unfolded, shielding everyone from the attack.
"Two hundred eighty-four. What about you?"
"Two hundred ninety-nine... Counting the one I blocked for you, that makes exactly three hundred. Looks like I won, Sakutsuki." Diarmuid rested the crimson spear on his shoulder, his left hand holding the bright yellow short spear. His expression was calm and his bearing carefree.
"I concede." Sakutsuki cupped his hands together, frankly admitting his shortcomings.
"You flatter me." Though there was no reward to speak of, Diarmuid could not hide his delight. But he quickly grew serious again. "I trust you've noticed it already. Archer is using his advantage to wear us down."
"Yeah. Since the contest is over, then..." Sakutsuki let out a whistle. Pitch-black shadows stretched out from beneath his feet, becoming Imaginary Shadows that stood silently by his side. At the same time, diamond-shaped exchange spaces formed around him. "I'll stop holding back and use all my strength to return Archer's gift."
"That's terrifying. Are you really someone from this era?" Feeling the magical energy surging around Sakutsuki, Diarmuid gave a bitter smile. His earlier bit of smugness was swiftly crushed. "Cover me, Sakutsuki—and you too, Berserker. I'll pierce Archer's heart with my demonic spear!"
"Roar, roar, roar!" Even in his state of Mad Enhancement, Lancelot responded.
The pink flower shield gradually faded away.
Just as the three of them braced themselves, preparing to make Gilgamesh pay—
The bombardment from the Gate of Babylon came to an abrupt halt.
After a brief silence, Hero King Gilgamesh's furious roar resounded through the heavens:
"Do you think the advice of someone like you can calm this king's anger? You truly have the gall, Tokiomi!"
When the familiar he had dispatched finally arrived, the sight before Tokiomi Tohsaka nearly made him faint.
What did he see?
His Servant, Archer Gilgamesh, was violently beating up three people!
Facing three opponents alone without falling behind—truly worthy of the Hero King... my ass!
To Tokiomi Tohsaka, Gilgamesh casually activating his Noble Phantasm, Gate of Babylon, was no different from blatantly exposing his trump card before the other Masters. To a cautious man like him, it was an enormous blunder!
What if intelligence about it was leaked?
What if someone discovered its weakness?
What if the other Masters joined forces against him?
"To continuously use a killing Noble Phantasm in full view of everyone... It's far too reckless..." Tokiomi Tohsaka rubbed his forehead, bitterness filling his mouth.
To remain composed and elegant in every time and place—this was the Tohsaka family precept passed down through generations. Tokiomi had always kept it in mind, yet he had not expected to be the first among the Masters forced into using a Command Spell...
Gritting his teeth, Tokiomi Tohsaka finally raised his right arm.
"By this Command Spell, Hero King, I command you to quell your anger and retreat."
The instant the crimson glow of the Command Spell lit up the Magic Workshop, Archer's eyes suddenly flared with rage as he turned his gaze southeast.
That direction led toward Miyama Town's hills and upscale residential district, where the Tohsaka Estate stood.
"By your advice, you think to make this king retreat? You truly have some nerve, Tokiomi."
Archer curled his lips in disgust and muttered those words in a low voice, but he still concealed the light of the Gate of Babylon. The countless large and small sword graves embedded in the ground immediately vanished without a trace.
"You mongrels have been granted another chance at life."
Though anger still covered his face, the killing intent in his eyes had faded. Dressed in gleaming golden armor, Gilgamesh remained as wild and arrogant as ever as he glared at every Servant present.
"Mongrels, until we meet again, continue your tedious slaughter. Only true heroes are worthy of beholding the King's majesty."
After saying that, Archer dematerialized. His golden armor lost its substance and faded away, leaving only scattered remnants of light.
After a moment of silence, Sakutsuki and Lancer also put away their weapons.
"Looks like Archer's Master isn't quite as tough as he seemed." Lancer sighed. "Honestly, I would have preferred to fight until the very end. At least let me thrust my spear once."
"It feels like punching cotton." Sakutsuki shook his head as well, suppressing the fighting spirit he had gathered and turning his thoughts toward the Tohsaka family.
As the oldest Hero King, Gilgamesh's supreme self-centered nature, combined with the Archer class skill Independent Action, allowed him to operate independently of his Master and greatly reduced his reliance on one. Even though Tokiomi Tohsaka served Gilgamesh as a vassal, it only made Gilgamesh restrain himself somewhat. He still did as he pleased.
Under normal circumstances, Tokiomi Tohsaka would accommodate Gilgamesh. Even when he ran rampant throughout Fuyuki City, Tokiomi had never said anything.
But the conflict between them was bound to erupt one day—just like now, when their values had clashed severely.
Gilgamesh considered himself invincible and did not regard the other Servants as worthy of notice. To him, punishing those who disrespected the King was only natural. There was nothing wrong with unleashing the Gate of Babylon either; even if his opponents learned of it, there was nothing they could do.
Tokiomi Tohsaka was different. Upholding the rationality and caution typical of traditional magi, he believed that one should not reveal one's trump cards too soon, especially before enemies whose capabilities were unknown. He was terrified of suffering an upset.
And this time, to restrain Gilgamesh, Tokiomi Tohsaka had used a Command Spell.
"This is the limitation of magi. Golden Sparkle is a king—a lofty, self-important king who recognizes no one but himself. How did you dare forcibly restrain him?" Sakutsuki muttered, his tone full of schadenfreude.
At heart, Tokiomi Tohsaka was still a magus, and a traditional magus who regarded familiars as tools.
A Servant was nothing more than a more powerful familiar.
His role-playing as a vassal was merely a means to an end. In his heart, Tokiomi Tohsaka had always regarded Golden Sparkle as a tool—just one that happened to be disobedient.
Gilgamesh had surely seen through that, which was why he was so enraged.
A crack had already appeared in their relationship.
If that crack was not repaired and continued to spread, it would eventually claim Tokiomi Tohsaka's life and bring a series of calamities upon the Tohsaka family and even Fuyuki City.
Even knowing that, Sakutsuki had no intention of changing anything. Kill whoever needed killing, bury whoever needed burying.
He was not Emiya, much less a partner of justice. Why should he care about all that?
The night was still long. Kirei Kotomine had to die, and he and Gilgamesh were destined to fight.
Wait, and hold onto hope.
The Count of Monte Cristo's lawyer letter warning.jpg
When Sakutsuki and Diarmuid put away their weapons, Berserker, standing beside them, did not restrain the resentment and killing intent surrounding him.
The red glow deep within the gaps of his helmet, having lost its original target, flickered like a bad signal. But when a knight bathed in moonlight entered his sight, Berserker began to tremble all over as though he could no longer restrain himself.
Stared at by those eyes filled with hatred, Saber felt an icy chill crawl up her spine.
"...ur..."
The voice seemed to rise from the depths of the earth. It was a disaster, a curse, a groan of resentment devoid of any linguistic meaning.
This was the first time everyone present had heard Berserker make any sound other than low growls.
"...ar...er...!"
Amid a collision like rusting metal grinding together, the black mad beast howled at the sky. Six whip-like tails violently sprang out from behind him, lashing about in frenzy.
"Irisviel, get back!" Artoria's pupils constricted. She only had time to shout that before Berserker transformed into a black shadow, casually tore up a roadside utility pole, and charged at the silver Knight King like a humanoid curse with limbs, his entire body overflowing with killing intent.
Planting the pole, leaping, Berserker gripped the long shaft covered in magical markings and smashed it down!
"Holy shit, that's such a textbook Soaring Eagle Dance! Does this guy play Wo Long: Fallen Dynasty too?!" Sakutsuki blurted out a joke no one understood.
"Bang!" A shockwave exploded. Saber held her sword horizontally and blocked Berserker's strike, while the crater that instantly formed beneath her feet proved just how violent that blow had been.
"This is bad. Saber can't put any strength into her arm." Diarmuid frowned as he stared at the trembling arm of the blonde girl.
A Berserker was a mad warrior who sacrificed reason in exchange for increased attributes across the board.
Before the Berserker with A-rank strength and speed, even Saber, who possessed the strongest overall abilities, probably could not withstand that blow.
Sure enough, after a brief stalemate, Artoria was the first to change tactics. She turned sideways and swung with deft force, sparks flying as her blade scraped against the long shaft. Then the two weapons slid past each other. The girl-like knight gave a sharp cry, twisted her body, and slashed horizontally!
But Berserker seemed prepared. He raised the shaft, knocked aside Saber's sword, and slid backward a distance, stopping just outside Excalibur's range.
This man... seems very familiar with my swordsmanship!
Saber gritted her teeth and could not help looking at her violently trembling left hand.
If I weren't injured...
"Saber!" Irisviel's cry snapped Saber awake.
She raised her eyes. The black utility pole was rushing straight at her, and amid Berserker's roar, she was violently sent flying!
The injury to her left arm made it difficult for Saber to exert her strength, while Berserker seemed provoked, attacking her even more frantically than he had attacked Archer.
The first strike.
The second strike.
The third strike.
Berserker's attacks grew heavier and more powerful, while Saber's defenses weakened with each one.
The wound inflicted by Lancer's Gae Buidhe was having a tremendous effect now. The swordsmanship she could only perform with her right hand lacked flexibility. Though she barely held on through the support of magical energy release, Berserker's relentless assaults surged like raging ocean waves, forcing Saber to defend with all her strength. She could find no opportunity to counterattack and gradually fell into a disadvantage.
"You... just who are you...?" The intense pain in her left hand made Saber's eyelids twitch, but Berserker showed no mercy toward her. He knocked her sword aside with the pole, and while Artoria's guard was wide open, he twisted his wrist without hesitation. The end of the utility pole became a black blur as it smashed toward Saber's head!
"Whoosh!"
A stunning flash of red light streaked through the air.
Gae Dearg severed the magical energy within the iron pole, slicing off a section that flew high into the sky before plunging heavily into the ground.
A man with loose hair falling over his forehead and a beauty mark at the corner of his eye appeared before Saber, coldly declaring to the black knight,
"Your mischief ends here, Berserker. I already have an agreement with that Saber over there."
"If you continue to interfere, I will not stand idly by."
Chivalry.
It was a code established to fulfill the duty of protecting one's lord. Chivalric spirit and morality were the noble cultural ideals of the upper classes, moral and personal principles founded upon an individual's sense of honor. They also contained certain positive remnants of ancient Western Europe's martial traditions.
In those unenlightened eras of Europe, heroes who upheld chivalry galloped across vast lands, freely wielding their spears and swords to save commoners and drive away beasts. Like lamps, they illuminated Europe's path toward the future.
Humility, honor, sacrifice, bravery, compassion, honesty, justice, soul.
Those warriors who followed the way of chivalry eventually became the imprint of a people and an era. Bards wrote their deeds into legends, passed down from generation to generation.
And at this very moment, Lancer chose to entrust his back to Saber while aiming his spear at Berserker. The way this lancer Heroic Spirit upheld the dignity in his heart was a true reflection of those heroes who had walked the path of chivalry.
The severed iron pole spun through the air before crashing down and embedding itself in the ground.
"That Saber already has an agreement with me... If you insist on meddling, I won't stand by and watch."
"Lancer..." Saber was moved by her opponent's nobility.
But not everyone present approved of such lofty sentiments.
"What are you doing, Lancer? This is the perfect chance to defeat Saber!"
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