On the roof of Einsbern Castle.
Kiritsugu Emiya had been constantly forced into a shrinking space by Kischur Zelretch's Mage's Will. Though he had prepared a large number of weapons across the rooftop, enough to unleash firepower that could amaze even an entire police force,
no matter how powerful Kiritsugu Emiya's firepower was, it still seemed utterly powerless before Mage's Will, a top-tier Mystic Code capable of both attack and defense. It had been created using 140 kilograms of mercury as its medium, combining mercury's physical properties with Kischur Zelretch's specialty in fluid manipulation.
Magazine after magazine was emptied in vain. Again and again, he dodged Mage's Will's slashes in vain.
Pressed forward by Kischur Zelretch's composed steps, Kiritsugu Emiya was soon driven into a dead corner of the rooftop.
Behind him was the roof's edge, where a fall meant being smashed to pieces. Before him was Kischur Zelretch, closing in step by step.
At this moment, Kiritsugu Emiya seemed to have been cornered with no way out...
"Kiritsugu Emiya... Even at the end of the road, are you still unwilling to face me in a proper duel?"
Apparently still bothered by the fact that Kiritsugu Emiya had not used his Origin Bullet, Kischur Zelretch had already found a way to deal with it and wanted to reclaim his honor.
He did not immediately attack Kiritsugu Emiya, whom he saw as already cornered. Instead, his face full of fury, he issued another challenge...
"Kiritsugu Emiya... Draw your trump card. Draw your Origin Bullet. Let us settle this once and for all!"
Kiritsugu Emiya silently glanced at the recoilless rifle by his feet, disguised to look like one of the castle's rooftop drainpipes.
Looking at Kischur Zelretch's furious yet faintly expectant expression, Kiritsugu Emiya knew perfectly well... the Origin Bullet was meaningless against the current Kischur Zelretch. What would truly determine victory was the recoilless rifle disguised as a pipe at his feet.
Kiritsugu Emiya remained silent. Rather than immediately reach for the recoilless rifle, he reached into his coat before Kischur Zelretch's eyes, making the motion of drawing a gun.
Just as Kischur Zelretch focused all his attention on the hand Kiritsugu Emiya had slipped into his coat, a faint click of a pin being pulled and a spring lever snapping free sounded from within Kiritsugu Emiya's clothes. A few seconds later, Kiritsugu Emiya, still in the pose of drawing his gun... exploded.
Literally exploded.
A flashbang was pulled directly from Kiritsugu Emiya's coat in the same motion as drawing a pistol, the moment he finished counting down in his mind.
Less than a second later, the flashbang, whose pin had already been pulled and spring lever released inside his coat, detonated right in Kiritsugu Emiya's hand.
Noise of 170 to 180 decibels and light of 6,000,000 to 8,000,000 candela instantly assaulted Kischur Zelretch's eardrums and eyes.
Even though Kischur Zelretch had been staring intently at Kiritsugu Emiya to guard against the Origin Bullet, and had prepared a spell in advance, activating defensive magecraft the moment Kiritsugu Emiya reached into his coat,
Kischur Zelretch's defensive magecraft had been meant to deal with a direct shot from the Origin Bullet...
"Ahhh...!" With a scream, Kischur Zelretch's eyes and ears instantly ceased to function, and in that instant, he lost nearly all his senses.
Still, Kischur Zelretch was a top-tier magus, and he had made thorough preparations in advance to deal with Kiritsugu Emiya.
So even though Kiritsugu Emiya had tricked him again, before physiological shock could rob him of his ability to resist, Kischur Zelretch still completed the command for Mage's Will to automatically seek out targets, attack, and defend.
Kiritsugu Emiya had indeed successfully caught Kischur Zelretch off guard again with the exploding flashbang, but he himself was not faring much better.
Before such intense light and deafening noise, even though Kiritsugu Emiya had mentally prepared himself and shut his eyes at once, how could a mere pair of eyelids block such brilliance?
Like Kischur Zelretch, Kiritsugu Emiya also lost nearly all his senses.
But... Kiritsugu Emiya was still Kiritsugu Emiya, a man ruthless enough to spare not even those closest to him.
Perhaps he had undergone similar training before, or perhaps years of assassination work had tempered him enough to endure such agony.
At the very instant of the explosion,
relying on his prior calculations and observations, Kiritsugu Emiya moved as though he still possessed sight and hearing. As he dropped down and seized the recoilless rifle, he also evaded Mage's Will's automatic slash.
Relying on the image of the rooftop simulated in his mind, Kiritsugu Emiya swiftly hoisted the recoilless rifle. Ignoring the pain, he aimed by feel with his scorched right hand and pulled the trigger at Kischur Zelretch.
The primer ignited, and the grenade left the barrel.
In an instant, with the two sides separated by less than ten meters to begin with, even though Mage's Will immediately shifted into a defensive stance and formed a mercury wall as indestructible as a non-Newtonian fluid,
its mass was still too little before TNT measured by the kilogram.
It triggered the grenade's explosion early and even shielded Kischur Zelretch from the flames and shrapnel.
But it could not completely block the tremendous force of impact, the violent vibrations, and the shockwave formed in the air.
As the explosion thundered, Kischur Zelretch, together with Mage's Will weighing 140 kilograms, was completely blasted away. He crashed heavily onto the rooftop, rolling through and crushing a section of the castle roof.
What did it feel like to be hit by an M20 75mm recoilless rifle?
Kischur Zelretch did not know what others experienced.
But he knew exactly what he was experiencing...
Massive internal bleeding throughout his body. At least one-third of his bones were fractured or cracked. Several internal organs throbbed with pain. If the grenade fired by Kiritsugu Emiya had fully penetrated Mage's Will, Kischur Zelretch might well have been blown into several pieces.
Even so, Kischur Zelretch had nearly lost all combat ability.
As a magus, Kischur Zelretch could still use the miraculous energy called mana to perform a few simple movements, but that was already the limit of what he could do.
Staggering up from the ruined rooftop, Kischur Zelretch barely managed to stand with Mage's Will and mana supporting him. Once again, he tasted defeat.
And it was almost exactly like his last battle with Kiritsugu Emiya. The only difference was that last time, he had escaped disaster through protective gear manufactured by ordinary people, while this time, he had been defeated by an ordinary person's weapon.
Of course, at such close range, although Kiritsugu Emiya had suffered far less damage than Kischur Zelretch, he did not have Mage's Will assisting him.
Therefore, even though he could still move, Kiritsugu Emiya was hardly unhurt. One piece of shrapnel had nearly torn off his already badly injured right hand...
But without question, Kiritsugu Emiya had won again.
He raised his relatively uninjured left hand and drew a specially made pistol from his coat... The Origin Bullet Kischur Zelretch had longed to face again was once more aimed at him...
'Father and Son'... King and Subject
Just as Kischur Zelretch and Kiritsugu Emiya's battle had already reached its conclusion,
in a strange space filled everywhere with dim gray rocks, beneath the watch of countless blood-red eyes,
Artoria and Mordred's battle had reached its climax.
Artoria kicked aside the Little Boat charging at her from the side, while gripping her holy sword with both hands to block Mordred's slash. Looking at the nearly crazed Mordred, a trace of sorrow flashed through her eyes.
"Why? Why, Father King... No matter what I do, why are you unwilling to acknowledge me? And why have you bound yourself to a destiny that was never meant to be yours?"
"There is no why, Mordred."
Although Artoria had always felt guilty toward Mordred, that guilt did not stem from refusing to acknowledge Mordred, nor did it stem from Mordred's disappointment in her actions.
Artoria, who had walked this path, had never regretted her decision. She merely believed that she had not done well enough.
The reason Artoria felt guilty toward Mordred was entirely because of... herself.
If she had done better, if she had prevented her sister from becoming a Witch, if she had shattered all the schemes she had encountered... then Mordred would never have been born, and there would never have been a Mordred wearing such a pained expression now.
That was right. Artoria's guilt toward Mordred could be called pity, or it could be called self-reproach.
The sorrow in Artoria's eyes existed only because she believed she had not done enough.
As for acknowledging Mordred or changing her own stance... for this Timeline's Artoria, that was absolutely impossible.
She was the King of Men, the Holy King, chosen by humanity as the one closest to perfection.
Having accepted such a destiny and affirmed this path, how could she change her stance? How could she deny her own path?
As for accepting Mordred... that was even more impossible. Mordred herself was the product of Morgan's scheme. From the very beginning, there had been no possibility that this Timeline's Artoria would accept her.
If she accepted Mordred, would that not mean Artoria had compromised with Morgan's scheme?
More seriously, if Mordred were a Prince, an acknowledged heir... then Morgan would have reason and the ability to seize the throne from Artoria.
Based on Artoria's understanding of her sister Morgan after inheriting the throne... if Morgan became King, it would be a disaster for the entire world.
Therefore, for this Timeline's Artoria—or rather, Artoria in most Timelines—accepting Mordred was almost an impossible option.
Yet that was something Mordred could never accept.
Her admiration, her regrets, her ambition, her... love... would never allow her to accept all of this.
Mordred, who hated the King of Men and her kingdom yet loved Artoria herself, had completely fallen into the twisted depths of hatred.
After hearing Artoria once again coldly refuse to acknowledge her, refuse to remove that crown she both despised and longed for,
Mordred, whose silver teeth were nearly shattered from clenching them, fell utterly into madness.
Red lightning began continually bursting from Mordred's body. Her greatsword abandoned all concern for defense as it hacked madly at Artoria in an exchange of life for life.
At the same time, Prydwen, the Coffin Lid that Mordred rode, no longer attacked and interfered with Artoria alone.
Instead, it sprayed a great mass of water around itself to support its body, then rapidly moved beneath Mordred's feet.
Riding a tiny boat through scarlet lightning filling the sky.
At this moment, Mordred resembled a Demon God...
"Answer me! Answer me, Arthur... Clearly, if you had just handed the throne to me, none of this would have happened! Everyone would have been happy! Why? Why won't you accept me... Do you hate me? Do you hate me because I am Morgan's child?!"
Continuously evading the red lightning Mordred slashed out from thin air, Artoria felt that Mordred had become abnormally powerful. Relying on her terrifying instinct, she rapidly closed in on Mordred.
After carefully confirming the look in Mordred's eyes,
Artoria clashed with Mordred's Noble Phantasm once more. Then, under the immense force Mordred now unleashed, she and her sword were sent flying together.
Faced with Artoria, who had lost her balance and was blasted away like a cannonball by her own strike,
Mordred's face twisted beyond recognition. At this point, she no longer had any thought of sparing her Father King. Bolt after bolt of red lightning swiftly gathered together, forming a crimson torrent that roared toward Artoria.
Even with the highest rank of A Magic Resistance, Artoria did not fare well after being struck by that torrent of scarlet lightning.
When the airborne Artoria was blasted away by the lightning, pain instantly appeared clearly on her face.
In that instant, Artoria even felt as though she had been roasted alive.
But after paying such a price, Artoria naturally gained something valuable enough in return.
Enduring the pain of the burns across her body, Artoria slowly rose from the ground amid Mordred's almost twisted laughter, having just seen something in Mordred's eyes that should not have been there.
Then, without a moment's hesitation, she began releasing the Noble Phantasm in her hand.
Golden specks of light, like a swarm of fireflies, rose in that desolate and mysterious space and gathered toward Artoria's Noble Phantasm.
At this moment, framed by countless golden fireflies, Artoria looked like the holiest Valkyrie, too sacred for anyone to profane...
But Mordred felt nothing at the sight. Watching Artoria gather the Light of Victory,
Mordred, like a Demon King, began gathering blood-red lightning as well.
"Hahahaha, Arthur... Kill you. As long as I kill you, the throne will still be mine... Mine—go! Cruel Rebellion, bestowed upon the foolish and incompetent King!"
The blood-red lightning was like divine lightning of judgment, nearly impossible to evade... If Artoria still had Avalon, perhaps she might have had a chance to survive beneath that lightning...
But now... Artoria seemed doomed to die.
But was that really so?
Would Artoria, who had led Camelot and the Knights of the Round Table to near countless victories, truly be so pathetic?
How could that be possible!
Just as the crimson lightning was about to strike her, Artoria, who had completed the mana gathering for her Noble Phantasm yet had kept it suppressed, suddenly spoke the release chant for another Noble Phantasm.
"O boat of Avalon that bears my final peace—protect me on my journey to the far shore!"
Silly Paimon
Prydwen was a shield-shaped Noble Phantasm nicknamed the Coffin Lid. (A surfboard.)
In truth, Prydwen itself was a Little Boat capable of sailing across Avalon Lake, a Noble Phantasm used to send King Arthur, who had fallen into eternal sleep, to Avalon.
Although Mordred had once stolen Prydwen for a time at fifteen due to her rebelliousness and taken it everywhere with her,
in the end, this Noble Phantasm returned to Artoria's side.
Therefore, do not be fooled by Prydwen currently serving as the Noble Phantasm mount of Rider Class Mordred.
As long as she reestablished her connection with it, Artoria could use this Noble Phantasm as well!
And as for establishing that connection... through all those previous clashes, Artoria had long since reconnected her mana with Prydwen.
As Artoria once again squeezed out her mana, she forcibly activated the release of her second Noble Phantasm.
Before you continue