After Gilgamesh left, the previously sullen Lancelot suddenly flew into a rage. Roaring "Arrrrr," he seized the streetlamp pole he had broken earlier and charged at Artoria.
"He's gone berserk, huh? But that ability is seriously impressive!"
Shirou, who had been watching as a bystander the whole time, commented as he looked at the streetlamp pole in Lancelot's hand, now turned into a Noble Phantasm.
"Hey, Irisviel. If that guy had unlimited mana and stood upside down while grabbing the Earth, could he turn the Earth itself into his Noble Phantasm?"
"Um... I'm not really sure about that either!"
Irisviel gave an awkward smile. She was just a tool—what the hell did she know about the Holy Grail War?
With one arm crippled, Artoria could only barely hold her own against Lancelot. In terms of martial skill, Lancelot was unquestionably the strongest among the Knights of the Round Table. Yes, even Artoria herself, the King of Knights, could not defeat him.
He had once endured until Gawain's "Numeral of the Saint" threefold enhancement expired, then defeated Gawain. Among all the Knights of the Round Table, no one else possessed such a record.
Artoria felt her wound begin to throb again. Lancelot's attacks grew heavier with every strike. Mad Enhancement had not diminished this knight's peerless martial arts. Lancelot's streetlamp pole was just about to hit Artoria.
At that moment, a streak of red light flashed past and split Lancelot's streetlamp pole in two.
Diarmuid pointed his spear at the Berserker before him and shouted, "Your prank ends here, Berserker. Saber and I have an agreement. Before our next duel, neither side is allowed to fall!"
As a knight and a hero, Diarmuid's actions were entirely proper. But from a practical standpoint, they were rather foolish.
Clearly, taking out Saber—the strongest