The sky darkened.
The reason is that something is falling from above, completely blocking out the sunlight.
Everything on the ground was cast into a huge shadow.
Achilles stood on his chariot, looking down at everything unfolding beneath his feet.
" Akhilleus Kosmos."
This is more than just a Noble Phantasm.
This was also his own life.
The reliefs engraved on the shield came to life at that moment: the earth, the city, the starry sky, the sun and moon, and the ocean.
Everything he had seen, experienced, and lost in that ten-year war.
Everything was condensed into this shield by Hephaestus's ingenious craftsmanship, and then unfolded again the moment his True Name Release.
A complete world.
It fell from the sky.
The city unfolds beneath the sky. White stone pillars, golden domes, and layers of Greece -style buildings built around the hillside.
In the distance stand the walls of Troy, and nearby are the palaces of Mycenae. The streets are deserted, yet every brick tells the story of the legend that Homer has sung for a thousand years.
The ocean surges on the outer edge of the world. Deep blue waves crash against the edge of this miniature world, as if Poseidon is still using his power to protect this land.
And this entire world is pressing down on the ground.
"..."
Achilles gritted his teeth.
This wasn't the ending he wanted. He hadn't originally intended to use this shield.
What he really wanted was to settle the score fairly and squarely, not to be forced into this way of escaping after losing an arm.
But it's too late now.
Heracles.
He silently repeated that name in his heart.
"If you can hold up this world, then I will acknowledge you as the true greatest hero of Greece."
On the ground.
Heracles raised his arms high above his head.
His feet were deeply embedded in the mud, his knees slightly bent, and his whole posture resembled a stone pillar supporting the sky.
Above him, the bottom of that miniature world was almost within reach, and the shadows of the city buildings were cast on his face.
"This weight... is good."
His voice was deep, yet it clearly pierced through the roar of the world's pressure drop.
"Same as that day."
He stood at the edge of the world, his arms supporting the heavens. Atlas had given him the sky, and he did not flinch. It was not a matter of strength, but of will.
"Ughhhhhh!!"
Heracles ' arms bulged with muscles, veins bulging beneath his skin. His heels sank another half meter, and dirt and gravel churned up around his feet.
Then, he held on.
That world that fell from the sky stopped.
"Are you kidding me...?"
Achilles ' pupils suddenly contracted.
That world, bearing the weight of Achilles' life's glory, transcends the realm of physics.
That was the full weight of a legend, a decade of war, countless sacrifices, and the complete life of a hero.
Heracles blocked it with his arms.
"Ha... haha!" Achilles couldn't help but laugh, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "As expected... as expected, I should have fought you!"
On the ground, Siegfried and Vlad III certainly didn't intend to just stand by and watch.
" Balmung!"
Siegfried gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands, True Name Release. A twilight-colored sword aura burst forth from the blade, like a sunset streak stretching across the sky, slashing straight towards the world that was being suppressed.
The sword energy struck the outer wall of the world, creating a ripple.
Then it disappeared.
"... not enough."
Siegfried frowned. His Noble Phantasm to slay a dragon, but against the barrier of an entire world, that power was still far too insignificant.
Vlad III was not idle either.
"Come on, Kazikli Bey."
He spread his arms, and the earth cracked beneath his feet. Countless iron stakes, densely packed, like a forest of metal, all pierced the collapsing world.
The sounds of iron stakes striking the outer wall of the world blended together, like countless hammers simultaneously pounding on a bronze wall.
Some of the iron stakes were bent, and some were broken. Occasionally, a few pierced the outer wall, but they only penetrated a little bit of the surface before being squeezed out by the immense power of the world.
"As expected..." Vlad III's dark golden eyes narrowed. "In the face of the world, the power of an individual is ultimately limited."
In the end, only one person truly held the line.
Heracles.
Achilles continued to push the world downwards, magic flowing continuously from the chariot into the shield, making the world heavier every second.
Heracles ' knees bent an inch more.
"How much longer can we hold on?" Siegfried stepped back to his side, looking up at the world that was about to collapse upon them.
"I don't know," Heracles answered honestly, "But at least, I'll fall before you."
That's not the point.
The main hall of the Millennia Fortress.
Darnic's fingers were no longer tapping the armrest.
He practically stood up from his chair, bracing himself on the table with both hands, staring intently at the several Magecraft Projection floating in front of him.
The Projection showed only one image: Heracles with his arms raised, and above his head was an entire world that was being compressed.
"Three people."
His voice was hoarse.
"If Heracles, Saber, and Lancer are all eliminated at the same time, Black Faction is completely finished."
Caules stood in the corner, his face Pale. Fiore sat in her wheelchair, her hands gripping the armrests tightly, her knuckles white.
Meanwhile, Mukuro Hoshimiya was leaning against a pillar, munching on a piece of bread he had taken from the cafeteria.
Darnic turned his head and looked at her.
This girl.
From the moment he was summoned until now, every move he has made has been full of surprises.
Space portals, enhancements, decomposition rays, meteorite deployment, remotely sealing an enemy Servant's arm—her list of abilities completely exceeds Darnic's understanding of the Archer class.
and.
After the summoning ritual, Darnic used the entire Yggdmillennia intelligence network to investigate the name.
Mukuro Hoshimiya.
There is absolutely no trace of this person's existence in history.
There is no written record of this name, no surviving legend, and it has never appeared in any list of heroes.
There are only two possibilities.
Alternatively, this person may have been relatively unknown during their lifetime, but was posthumously elevated to the Heroic Spirit Hall for some special reason.
Or perhaps she gave a fake name.
Regardless of the possibility, it all means one thing: no one knows her weaknesses, her Noble Phantasm, or her trump card until they are truly revealed.
"Archer."
Darnic's voice carried a kind of urgency that he himself disliked.
"Are you capable of resolving the current situation? We, the Black Faction, cannot afford to lose Heracles now."
Mukuro Hoshimiya took a bite of bread, chewed it twice, and swallowed it.
"Can."
Her answer was so quick and so flat that Darnic paused for a second.