"Boom------!!!"
The chain became a fuse. The flames that burst from Shirou's palm were amplified before exploding into blazing fire at the blade on its end.
The black crocodile was blasted to pieces. Its original shape was barely recognizable as it became a burning, charred corpse.
Did I... get it?
Although he had defeated such a powerful familiar, Shirou felt no excitement whatsoever.
Then, as he lay in the snow, he saw something strange.
The charred corpse of the crocodile familiar he had killed turned into black liquid. It then flowed back toward Nero Chaos like a slime, disappearing into his coat.
Shirou: "..."
Did it eat the corpse?
No... could this be...
Shirou suddenly remembered the name written in the report on the black Dead Apostle—Nero Chaos.
It did not sound like a name from the human era, so the meaning of that name was...
"!!"
Shirou seemed to understand why he had given himself a surname like "Chaos."
He hurriedly climbed out of the snow, but just as he prepared to counterattack—
"AAAAAAAH!"
Frolov, who had been left ignored, leaped up and pounced on Shirou.
He raised his enormous cavalry lance, pointing its tip, wrapped in absolute zero, straight at Shirou's heart.
Flawless. That was the only way to describe the Dead Apostle's movement.
Even the finest warrior would be overwhelmed by that swift and violent figure without a single opening. This was the realm of Martial Arts accumulated over Frolov's several centuries of life—a realm beyond the reach of humanity!
A steel lance that could shatter the laws of the planet, a weapon that did not exist in this world. That was the "Principle Blood Ring" inherited by Vlov Arkhangel, and it was about to pierce the body of the boy who had no time to react—