Blood turned into a signature, and the signature turned into a spell.
Amid a dazzling crimson glow, the Self Geass Scroll burned away, declaring the ritual complete.
"Then, happy cooperation."
The golden-eyed young man clapped his hands and smiled. Then—
A frigid torrent of weapon edges surged forth from behind him.
"Then let's begin, Lancer!"
The red spear swept out, shattering the casually projected weapons.
The warrior of the Knights of Fianna held two spears in his hands. The sorrow in his eyes was swept away, replaced by blazing battle spirit.
"Just what I wanted, Lord Sakutsuki!"
Lancer swung his twin spears as though casting off every trace of grief and frustration in his heart, crashing into the blade-wielding young man charging toward him!
The setting sun bathed the abandoned factory in its lingering glow, leaving behind a mournful, blood-red hue that lamented the fleeting years and the loss of all that was beautiful.
The high spirits of the past had long scattered, and the days of drinking and laughing together had vanished amid clashing spearpoints and blades.
Yet even within this life-and-death struggle, certain beautiful things remained, shining with a golden light.
It was the mutual recognition between warriors.
It was the respect shared between enemies.
Even a battle that demanded everything they had could serve as a channel through which emotion and will were conveyed.
"Trace On!"
As Diarmuid's spearpoint closed in, Sakutsuki threw out the twin swords in his hands, then gripped a newly projected Gan Jiang and Mo Ye and pressed forward.
"Excellent!" Lancer split his attention in two. With his left hand, he swung Gae Buidhe, forcing Sakutsuki to retreat in short steps. With his right, he thrust Gae Dearg, knocking the returning twin swords back into spirit particles.
But when he looked down, he