The Dead Apostle's third death occurred when a long knife cleaved into his left shoulder.
The blade sliced through the flesh, severed the collarbone, and cut all the way into the chest cavity, turning the second Conceptual Core into dust.
Black blood sprayed all over the wall.
Jester Carl's body flew backward, crashing into the reception desk in the center of the hall and smashing the entire marble countertop in two.
"Tsk."
He spat out a mouthful of black blood and crawled up from the ruins.
The wound on my left shoulder was healing at a visible speed, with new skin and flesh growing from the charred edges, covering the broken bone.
In just three seconds, he was able to move again.
"You guys are really ruthless."
He straightened up, his white shirt now reduced to shreds, and six shell-shaped Conceptual Core patterns on his chest exposed to the air, four of which had turned a dull gray.
That's because he used up four cores.
Two remain.
Inside the hall, more than twenty police officers, each wielding Noble Phantasm, were regrouping.
In the previous attack, five or six of them were injured, but no one died.
They coordinated so well.
Everyone clearly knows their position, when to attack, when to retreat, and from which angle their teammates will finish them off.
Like a veteran who has trained countless times.
"Again."
The policeman with the long gun said something, and then pointed the gun at the Dead Apostle again.
Jester smiled.
But this time, the smile lacked the composure of before.
"Okay, let's do it again."
He charged forward again.
Then, he died for the fourth time.
This time, it was the priest who killed him.
To be precise, it was after the priest intervened.
The priest with medium-length black wavy hair and an eyepatch over his right eye suddenly appeared behind him the moment he was pinned to the ground by the spear.
An elbow strike landed on Jester's head.
The force was so great that it slammed his head into the floor, and the fifth Conceptual Core shattered under the impact.
Then the Dead Apostle moved again.
He got up from the ground again.
This time, he was in a different body.
The white-haired youth's form had disappeared, replaced by a thin man wearing a gray hoodie, with an ordinary face, the kind of appearance that would be easily lost in a crowd.
The sixth body.
The sixth core.
"..."
The hall was silent for a few seconds.
Jester Carl glanced at the twenty-odd Noble Phantasm surrounding him, then at the priest still swinging his elbows, and then at his own ill-fitting hoodie.
Then he made a decision.
That's all for today.
He turned and ran.
He moved as fast as a gray shadow, slipping through the gap between the two policemen and rushing toward the emergency exit on the side of the hall.
"Don't let him get away!"
Someone is shouting.
Chains hung down from the ceiling, trying to entangle his feet, but he ducked to avoid them.
An archer's arrow grazed his ear and embedded itself in the wall.
He was faster than before.
The consumption of the fifth core did not weaken him; on the contrary, it made his new body's agility attribute significantly higher than his previous form.
This body wasn't originally designed for combat.
It's for running away.
He rushed through the emergency exit door and into the fire escape behind him.
The police officers who had surrounded them gave chase.
But just then, everyone heard a soft sound.
It sounded like something falling from the sky and landing on the concrete.
A dark beam of light shot down from high above.
It pierced through the gap between the commercial buildings opposite the police station, across the night sky, and precisely struck the Dead Apostle was running wildly through the fire escape.
The moment the light blast touched the Dead Apostle's body, his entire being vanished into nothingness, like a pencil drawing erased by an eraser, starting from the point of contact.
A thin, small body.
The sixth core.
They all vanished within that beam of light.
Jester Carl, Dead Apostle, a retainer of Van Fem, the fourteenth of the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors, and the Master of the pseudo- Assassin Hassan of the Zealot.
And so he died, as if he couldn't have died any further.
The fire escape in the police station was completely empty.
Nothing was left.
"... What?"
The police officers who had been besieging the area stopped and looked at each other in bewilderment.
Where is that Dead Apostle from just now?
They turned their heads and looked back along the trajectory of the light bullet, towards the rooftop of the commercial building opposite the police station.
There stood a young girl.
She had short, silver-white hair, wore a pure white wedding-dress-style Astral Dress, and had several wings of light unfolding behind her.
The night breeze ruffled her hair.
She looked down at the police station, her icy blue eyes devoid of any expression.
More than twenty police officers, each wielding Noble Phantasm, did not assume a fighting stance after clearly seeing the girl's appearance.
They simply stood there, motionless.
Then, in their minds, they began to formulate their last words.
Last night, this group watched a live satellite broadcast of the general outline of the desert battle.
The details are not clear.
But from the satellite imagery, they saw a silvery-white dot of light facing two Servant at the same time, and overwhelming Servant.
I saw that Kadour hurtling out of the atmosphere.
We saw that giant crater, which was over ten kilometers in diameter.
Now that silvery-white dot of light is standing on the rooftop opposite them.
"Holy crap."
A young policeman said something in a low voice.
Then everyone fell silent.
Origami looked down at the group of police officers who stood motionless like mountains.
That's a bit strange.
She had expected at least a few people to rush up and hit her.
After all, she had just destroyed the thing they had been surrounding for so long without being able to kill with a single burst of light.
But those people just stared at her.
His eyes were filled with the words "It's all over."
They lost interest in Origami.
The thrilling battle between police and vampires is over. Although the police were surprisingly powerful, they were still just humans and had no value to her.
Her main target this time was that blond knight.
Origami flew off the rooftop and landed on the open ground in front of the police station.
The wings of light slowly retracted behind her, leaving only three floating outside while the rest disappeared into her Astral Dress.
She walked to the front of the police station.
The gate was wide open.
The police officers inside had retreated to the back of the hall, maintaining a distance of at least thirty meters from her.
Origami wasn't in the mood for pleasantries with the police.
"Let me make this clear from the outset."
Her voice echoed in the empty hall.
I came here for only one purpose.
"That blond knight, the man in armor in today's news, and the bespectacled girl who was arrested with him."
Tell me their location.
I won't make things difficult for anyone else.
The hall was silent for a few seconds.
Then one of the policemen moved.
A young man with short blond hair and blue eyes.
Among his colleagues, whose legs were trembling with fear, he was the first to recover from the shock.
His eyes were different from those of the people around him who were only thinking about how to survive.
Caster, the King of Heroes, is the Chief's Servant.
Last night, this silver-haired girl and Caster had a fight in the southern desert.
In other words, she is the enemy.
The enemy's Servant.
Although death is highly likely.
Although the satellite broadcast from last night is still fresh in my mind.
But he's a policeman.
Moreover, in his view, it's always better to strike first than to sit and wait for death.
His right hand gripped the knife at his waist.
A sword-shaped Noble Phantasm.
Pale golden patterns flowed along the blade, the unique aura of the Original Noble Phantasm.
"Step back."
He said something to his companion.
Then he rushed out.
They attacked the Origami directly from the front.
The speed was beyond the limits of ordinary humans; it was a speed achievable only with the enhancement of Noble Phantasm.
The blade sliced through the air, aiming straight for the Origami's neck.
Origami did not dodge.
Just as the blade was about to touch her body, she sensed a faint threat.
This Noble Phantasm is a genuine Original Noble Phantasm.
Moreover, it does not possess Gilgamesh's magic.
Gilgamesh has completely severed the connection between these Noble Phantasm and his treasury; these weapons are now truly ownerless.
If used by humans, even Atheism cannot defend against attacks from humans.
If this strike really hits, it should be able to tear through her Astral Dress.
Of the seven wings of light behind her, one flew automatically in front of her and blocked the attack.
The blade struck the surface of the light wing, producing a crisp metallic clang.
Then it bounced off.
"..."