Blazing flames roared through the courtyard, and a crimson lotus was about to bloom fiercely before the hall.
At the critical moment, a pale, jade-like hand reached straight through the raging flames and pressed onto the saintly girl's shoulder. The fiery crimson lotus, still waiting to bloom, immediately withered and scattered.
"Enough!"
A gloomy voice brought an icy chill sweeping through the entire hall. The temperature around them plummeted, making it feel as though they had fallen into an ice cellar.
Black vertical pupils opened and closed as they gazed coldly downward, deep and dreadful as hell itself.
"Stop struggling. You've lost!"
In the magical projection within the hall, the great cup gleaming with golden light had already fallen into Atalanta's hands.
The outcome had been decided.
Yet Joan of Arc, kneeling beneath the steps in a posture of prayer, responded to the overwhelming divine majesty with a radiant smile.
"But you've lost too..."
Joan of Arc's gaze fell upon the hand resting on her shoulder, and her cherry lips curled slightly upward.
Thunder exploded in Samael's mind. He instantly understood, and his expression stiffened.
He had been tricked!
With such a vast disparity in strength, it had been nearly impossible for Thousand Tree's side to seize the Holy Grail, storm the temple, or take him—the King—away.
So this woman had wagered everything and entered the courtyard alone, not to stage some desperate comeback, but to force him to act in person!
By their agreement, he was forbidden from interfering with the progress of the Holy Grail War. If he did, it would count as a violation...
But clearly, to deceive a god, she needed not only the death-defying cooperation of every Thousand Tree Heroic Spirit, but also to place herself upon the scales.
But what if I hadn't acted?