Killing, being killed.
This was the norm on the battlefield.
All lives were equal. Once a vital point was struck, death was the only possible outcome.
"Reach the end, transcend the boundaries—O King Beyond, witness this light!"
Lancelot held Arondight before him. Though wounded, his gaze remained incomparably steadfast.
A dazzling blue radiance had already appeared upon the lake-light sword, aimed straight ahead—
Percival had been struck by a sword during the battle and was badly wounded. At this point, he had no time to block.
A sharp gleam filled the Storm King's eyes. He pointed his lance forward, likewise intending to unleash his Noble Phantasm and force Lancelot back.
Because they all knew that if Lancelot's Noble Phantasm truly struck Percival, Percival would undoubtedly be eliminated on the spot.
This was a battle with a vast disparity.
Not merely a disparity in combat strength, but in mindset as well.
But.
Why was there a trace of urgency in Lancelot's eyes?
The Storm King keenly caught that detail, and then—
"Hah!"
BOOM!!!
He did not unleash his Noble Phantasm. Instead, he drove his lance with magical energy in an incredibly swift thrust, stabbing toward Lancelot's face.
Lancelot had no choice. The blue light on Arondight flickered unsteadily; it was no longer possible not to release it.
"[For Someone's Glory.]—"
"Get lost!!!"
BOOM!!!
An explosion-like roar erupted. Magical energy thundered from the Storm King's lance, blasting back Lancelot's Holy Sword as it swung downward and sending Lancelot himself tumbling backward through the air.
As trouble arose on Lancelot's side, over on Tristan's side—
Whoosh—
Whoosh—
The sounds of air splitting rang out without pause, yet they were not caused by just one person.
Tristan's arrows fired almost continuously, while the other figure, whose form was nearly impossible to see, was naturally