Boom! Boom! Rumble—!!
The soil had already been shaved away layer after layer, dyed into an unsettling reddish-brown by the extreme heat. As far as the eye could see, not a single intact plant remained.
On the ruins of what was once Fuyuki's New City Station, one side was an alien army summoned by an otherworldly deity, while the other was a legendary force that had once established a vast empire spanning Asia, Europe, and Africa. At this moment, the two armies were locked in a brutal, bloody clash.
Countless corpses piled up across the ruins. Before the blood even had time to congeal, it was shattered by the aftershocks of the Servants' terrifying magical bombardments. Then more soldiers from both sides were summoned, fought, died, were summoned again, fought again, and died once more... the cycle repeating endlessly.
Every second, one or even dozens of warriors perished under enemy blades, gunfire, and arrows.
For the Macedonian legion, the ancient and seemingly crude armor they wore could not protect their bodies from the weapons of these alien invaders.
Under the opponent's unheard-of energy blades, gravity hammers, and overwhelming suppressive fire... they were like lambs awaiting slaughter. Their armor and shields were no better than soaked paper—pierced through in an instant.
As for Selene's Sangheili legions, their situation was no less frustrating.
Although the average individual strength—and especially the lower bound—of Sangheili warriors far surpassed their opponents, the enemy's upper limit was simply too high!
They looked like a backward army straight out of the Bronze or Iron Age, yet among them were countless formidable warriors. The Sangheili officers directing the battle quickly realized—they couldn't win!
As a result, frontline Sangheili commanders were repeatedly assassinated by enemy Servants, while their own strengths were severely restricted. Their space fleet and heavy aerospace warships could not be manifested.
There was no helping it—Selene's manifested form simply didn't have the capacity.
After being heavily weakened layer upon layer, the fact that they could still summon multiple Sangheili legions and deploy "Scarab" super-heavy assault platforms—vehicles whose firepower rivaled Anti-Army Noble Phantasms—was already thanks to the remnants of Tiamat's incomplete Saint Graph. It was already absurdly overpowered.
Even though both sides were magical spirit armies formed under the effects of Noble Phantasms, to fight to this extent... the intensity of this Servant war had already surpassed anything many Heroic Spirits summoned by Chaldea had ever witnessed in their lifetimes.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The dust in the sky and the dazzling glow of Noble Phantasms refused to dissipate. Stepping forward heavily, clad in radiant silver Valkyrie battlesuit, Durandal swung her lance—Abyss Flower—shattering the incoming magic cannons and Noble Phantasm projectiles aimed at her.
"What a powerful warrior. Even those madwomen of the Amazons fall far short. I, Leonidas, offer you my respect. Though surrounding you goes against my ideals, this is a battlefield—not an arena!"
A booming voice rang out.
The air exploded as Durandal turned toward the source. It was a warrior unmistakably Spartan—wearing a T-shaped golden helmet, wielding a golden spear and a massive Greek round shield, his muscular chest boldly exposed beneath a crimson cloak.
"It matters not. Warfare has never been about fairness. To cross blades with a hero whose name echoes through human history—regardless of sides or outcome—is my honor."
Durandal replied calmly. Then, shifting her body, she brushed past the thrust of Lancer Leonidas' golden spear and, in the next instant, drove her knee forward into a kick...
At that moment—whoosh!
A bone-white skull mask emerged. The Assassin lurking in the shadows had waited long enough. Seizing the moment when Durandal unleashed her kick, her body suspended midair as she deflected the King of Heroes' Noble Phantasms and other Archers' sniping—
"Zabaniya!!"
Rip—!
From beneath the black cloak, through parted bandages, a grotesquely misshapen rod-like right arm radiating an unsettling blood-red glow extended toward Durandal's chest, accompanied by a hoarse, low voice.
"I've been waiting for you, Assassin!"
Spinning in a full three-hundred-sixty-degree arc, Durandal forcibly swung Leonidas away along with his spear. Her second burst of force turned her sweeping kick into a roaring gale, magical power surging into her leg, transforming it into a glowing whip of light.
Bang—!
The strike shattered the mutated arm along its path before slamming brutally into the Assassin's abdomen.
Crack!
The impact tore through his internal organs. The skull mask shattered instantly, blood spraying everywhere. His abdomen and spine were completely pierced through, his body forming a twisted arc—
Boom!
Like a cannon shell, he was blasted away at blinding speed, smashing through everything in his path before exploding into a grotesque bloom of blood and flesh among the Macedonian soldiers.
Yet Durandal had not even a moment to rest. A chilling black mist spread, and dozens of identical cloaked figures appeared once more. In an instant, a rain of poisoned daggers blanketed the spot where she had just stood.
Whoosh!
After all, this was not the original Bright Knight · Excelsis in Selene's hands (Durandal: This is bad—I've become a substitute). Within the Throne of Heroes' conceptual framework, Durandal's battlesuit was merely a high-grade imitation of the God-Empress Selene's battlesuit.
It still retained the effect of reducing ninety percent of all incoming damage, but its full-spectrum enhancement of base attributes and its ability to nullify all non-divine attacks had been removed.
In other words, if struck, she would still take one-tenth of the damage.
If it had been Selene's version of Bright Knight · Excelsis, attacks lacking divinity wouldn't even require her to move.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Terrifying sword light tore through the air around Durandal, while volleys from the King's cannons howled across the sky, striking her with precise accuracy.
Crash—!
After shattering yet another series of Noble Phantasm projectiles, Durandal cast an irritated glance toward Gilgamesh, who stood far in the rear behind meat-shield soldiers, casually unleashing wide-area attacks.
That golden bastard was infuriating.
"I need to get over there quickly—Kiana and the others..."
Durandal was desperate to reach Kiana's position. Earlier, she had already sensed Rita and Li Sushang being eliminated. And just as she struggled to advance—
Rumble—!!
Accompanied by maniacal laughter—"Come, all of you, be buried with me!! I will overturn all creation—!"
A crimson pillar of fire shot into the sky. Everything around it—friend and foe alike—was reduced to dust under the explosion's aftermath, then swept away by the raging shockwave.
"This sense of urgency and pressure... compared to this, the previous battles were nothing more than warm-ups before the real match..."
Durandal had to admit—they had indeed been somewhat careless before. Thinking their opponents weren't much, they had each picked their targets and split up. Then, when waves of Chaldea reinforcements arrived, their formation instantly fell into a massive disadvantage. They were divided, surrounded... and crushed. Everyone had stumbled.
Her Majesty must have anticipated this long ago, and deliberately chose not to have Lev use Command Spells to recall them. It was obvious—she wanted them to make their own choices and bear the consequences themselves.
Still, this was better. Being defeated in Servant form was far preferable to making a command error in their true bodies that led to the deaths of comrades.
Durandal thought silently.
At the same time—
"Clarent!!"
Crimson lightning flashed.
Durandal intended to regroup with Kiana and the others, and Chaldea's response was naturally to prevent that, defeating them one by one.
Seeing Saber Mordred attacking from the flank, Durandal made her decision in an instant. Since a perfect outcome was no longer possible—then she would fight!
Bang!
Cracks spread like a spiderweb from beneath Durandal's feet as she abruptly changed direction toward Mordred. Empowered by [Invincible Valkyrie], her spear technique—now perfected—thrust forward with Abyss Flower.
With a single strike, the explosive force compressed the surrounding air, instantly breaking the sound barrier with a thunderous sonic boom.
Damn it! She's going all out!
"Saber, watch out for that white lance!"
Lancer Leonidas' voice rang out.
Clicking her tongue, Mordred had no choice but to stand her ground—she had her pride, after all. Wearing the same armor as always, she couldn't keep retreating. It wasn't like she was Selene—she still had the advantage.
"Clarent Blood Arthur!!!"
Clang—!
The heavy collision between blade and spear rang out.
In an instant, a violent roar like an earthquake erupted. The ground shattered inch by inch, dirt and stone blasted into the air, and countless cracks spread outward like a web. The surface collapsed, forming a massive crater.
Gripping Abyss Flower with one hand, Durandal's leaning body suddenly tilted as a golden spear narrowly grazed past her cheek.
"Hah—!!"
In that instant, violet-red lightning-like magic burst forth violently, kicking up a surge of air. Her free arm extended, suddenly exerting force as she seized the golden spear and delivered a powerful side kick.
Thud!
"Guh—puh!"
The charging Lancer Leonidas staggered instantly.
Seizing the opening, Durandal stomped the ground and fixed her gaze on Mordred, who was still struggling to push forward. Strength ranked at A+—did she think this was a joke?
"I'm the black from the abyss and the white from the clouds.
"I was born before the world was created, and I will live on after the world's demise.
"I shall offer the water from the fountain of life to the thirsty for free—"
She began her chant.
Seeing this, Archer Atalanta—responsible for long-range support—immediately turned pale. She was far too familiar with that holy lance. She had been one of its victims before.
"Saber! Dodge! That weapon is a divine construct!!"
Every instinct screamed danger. Mordred abandoned all concern for pride. Twisting her wrist gripping the sword, she detonated the crimson lightning gathered on Clarent.
Boom!
Her body shot backward like a cannonball, skipping across the ground as she crashed through countless Macedonian soldiers, carving a long trench into the earth.
Mordred roared, "Father, save me!!"
"Divine Key: Abyss Flower, Zeroth Power unleashed!!"
"Excalibur!!"
...
"Compared to that ill-mannered woman who knows no reverence, Durandal... the sharp battle aura she carries—this king must admit, she is a true warrior."
Behind him, space continued to distort, golden ripples forming as countless weapons emerged.
Learning from past mistakes, clad in full golden armor, Gilgamesh adjusted the cannons of the King's arsenal around him while exchanging fire with Sangheili heavy vehicles. Turning slightly, he looked down calmly.
"How much did you see?"
Beside the composite summoning magic circle stood a man in a white cloak. His short silver hair flowed like snow, his lips curled in a faint smile, his face as delicate as a fairy's.
With his frivolous demeanor and carefree expression, he looked every bit the wandering playboy.
"Even the great King Gilgamesh..."
Bang!
Seeing the spear that struck and dissipated before him, the man subtly stepped back.
"Ahem... naturally, I couldn't observe everything either. Only fragments. The rest—you know—it was all blocked by a certain existence."
As Foreigners, Durandal and the others shared a skill—Existence Outside the Domain.
Beings descended from beyond the universe, from the void.
"Oh~~"
Gilgamesh narrowed his crimson eyes, drawing out his tone.
"Merlin, you old bastard, you'd better not let this king catch you slacking."
"Oh my... how could that be?"
Gently stroking the fluffy white-eared creature in his arms—something between a dog and a rabbit—Merlin laughed awkwardly.
"Fufu~ Fufu~"
With a look of disdain, the small creature let out a few very human-like scoffs.
"Hey, don't expose me like that, little one..."
Watching the two act so relaxed and confident, Waver—eager to prove himself before Iskandar—was filled with unease.
"Even with an overwhelming numerical advantage, we've still lost so many Rider-class Servants. Lord Karna's side has practically been wiped out. And once Goddess Quetzalcoatl makes her move, can the King of Heroes really hold the line alone?"
"Relax~ Kongming, trust in the great King of Heroes!"
The words sounded flattering, but coming from that guy, they somehow felt off.
Not bothering to dwell on it, Gilgamesh turned his gaze toward Selene.
"Quetzalcoatl, Ishtar, Ereshkigal..."
"Especially you, Ishtar—don't you dare mess this up again! Otherwise, don't expect to get a single gem!"
Then, turning to a communication screen nearby, Gilgamesh said,
"Romani, you should understand—Beasts can only be properly dealt with by Grand Servants."
"Indeed. What Selene has obtained is only an incomplete Beast II Saint Graph of the primordial mother goddess Tiamat. But given her status, restoring and nurturing that Saint Graph back to completion—given enough time—is not difficult."
"..."
There was a brief pause from the other side of the screen.
"Yeah. I have a plan."