Amid the billowing dust, the soot-covered crowd pushed aside the rubble on top of them and crawled up from the shattered ruins.
Looking at the ancient castle, more than half of which had collapsed, and the charred crater before them still smoking blue, Thousand Tree's magi and Servants wore slightly dazed expressions.
It was not as if they had never seen Heroic Spirits before.
But this was their first time seeing one blow himself up right out of the gate.
Moreover, no one had expected that guy, who had been spouting righteous words about taking on this rebellion, to turn around at just the right moment and use them, these innocent bystanders, as human shields.
That was utterly shameless!
He wasn't here?
At the crater's edge, Samael stood atop the chariot, ignoring the murderous gazes converging on him. Stroking his chin, he gazed toward the collapsed underground section of the castle, a trace of surprise appearing on his face.
Hm? What was that? Interesting...
The ancient serpent's downcast eyes seemed to have discovered something. A faint ripple crossed his handsome face, and an intrigued, teasing smile emerged.
"Bastard!"
Darnic was the first to recover from his shock. Seeing the family estate he had painstakingly built reduced to ruins in an instant, his eyes nearly split with rage. He immediately raised his arm, activated a Command Spell, and roared an order at his trump card.
"Lancer, kill them!"
This time, the usually respectful and hypocritical magus had no mind left for all those empty formalities.
At once, Vlad III, forcibly summoned, transformed into an ominous red-black light and appeared before his Master. Reforming his body, he reached toward his target and coldly chanted.
"My path is stained with blood. My spear is your gravestone. Armor of iron, fingertips of stakes—Iron Fortress!"