What's the Point of Saying That When Your Britain Is Already Gone?

The injury to her wrist made Saber's sword hand tremble slightly. It was an extremely dangerous sign, yet her imposing aura remained completely unaffected.

A trace of admiration appeared in Duke's eyes, but he had no intention of dragging things out and prepared to end the battle quickly. "Not bad fighting spirit, but you should know that the gap in strength cannot be bridged by faith alone."

Saber took a deep breath. "Berserker, victory and defeat are not yours to decide. Save those words until after you beat me!"

As she spoke, the aura Saber had honed through countless battles surged once more, crashing toward Duke like a tide. Duke remained completely unfazed, but the Nightmare Steed could not handle it. The thing was simply too inferior.

The startled horse reared up on its front hooves and unconsciously backed away two steps. To Saber, those two steps were the perfect opportunity to attack. If she missed it, there would be no second chance.

Invisible Air was released. Saber swung Wind King's Hammer in reverse, using the recoil of the gale to instantly cross the distance between herself and Duke. She lunged forward, swinging her sword straight at Duke's vital point.

Perhaps because his warhorse had been startled, Duke was unable to defend or evade in time. Just as he steadied himself, the golden Excalibur came crashing down upon him.

Saber frowned. The tip of her sword was only a palm's width away from Duke's neck artery. Her instincts told her the strike would definitely land, yet she vaguely sensed that something was wrong.

Was it too easy?

That was the only explanation Saber could come up with. Her sword swung even faster. With such a perfect opportunity before her, even if it was a trap, she had to try.

Swish!