"This world, this landscape, can manifest in the present precisely because it is the image held in all our hearts! Behold—that is my peerless army."
"Even though their bodies have vanished into smoke and dust, their souls absorbed by the world as Heroic Spirits, they remain the legendary warriors who serve me! My bond with them is my greatest treasure! My kingly path! The strongest Noble Phantasm that I, Iskandar, am proud of—the Ionian Hetairoi!"
"A king is one who lives more brilliantly than anyone else, whose very presence enthralls the masses!"
"The one who gathers the admiration of countless warriors and stands unwavering like a signpost is fit to be king! Therefore—a king is never alone, for his will is the sum of all his subjects' aspirations."
The King of Conquerors drew the Sword of Alexander and charged at Assassin without hesitation atop his warhorse, like a bolt of lightning.
A tremendous roar answered him as the vast army followed their king in a majestic charge against the enemy.
At that moment, it was entirely what the King of Conquerors desired.
At that moment, his true nature was fully unleashed.
That wild, unrestrained arrogance, that invincible and domineering aura of a king, swept over them, displaying an utterly different kind of rugged charm.
Wherever the Ionian Hetairoi passed, not a trace of Assassin remained. Only a faint smell of blood and swirling sand lingered in the air.
Having completed their task, the Heroic Spirits returned to spiritual form and vanished into the distance.
The bounded field was lifted as well. Everything shattered like bubbles, and the scene returned to the original night. The group found themselves standing in the garden once more.
The pure white moonlight radiated silence, and not a speck of dust could be seen in the