The Holy Lance Rhongomyniad was undeniably formidable, wielded by a divine being walking among mortals, its magical energy far surpassing that of ordinary Servants. Its attacks could be considered relentless and unending.
Without Morpheus, someone would surely have had to sacrifice themselves to stop such an assault. But with Morpheus present, these attacks were rendered far less effective.
The Spear of the Thunder God roared through the air, causing the clouds below to erupt in a thunderstorm. More lightning gathered from those clouds, surging into the thrown thunder spear.
The moment the two weapons collided, a tempest of wind raged, the shockwave resulting from the air being compressed and dispersed by immense energy. This strike carved out a cloudless region spanning dozens of kilometers in the high skies, leaving the clear blue expanse visible in pristine clarity.
Bedivere felt the exhilarating rush of plummeting through the high altitude, a sensation that sent adrenaline coursing wildly through his veins, sharpening his mind to an almost unbearable clarity. He could vividly imagine himself splattering into a pulp upon hitting the ground.
Yet, seeing Morpheus use the thunder spear to shatter the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad's attack, he had to admit that being thrown aside to allow Morpheus to counter the lance was the right call.
So, despite knowing he might truly die this time, Bedivere harbored no resentment. Instead, he glanced at his right arm, gripping it fiercely with his left hand, intent on tearing it off and handing it to this man named Morpheus.
Perhaps he was the one truly capable of bringing peace back to King Arthur!
At that moment, his vision darkened briefly before brightening again. He was caught mid-air and propelled forward.
"Fun falling from the sky?" Morpheus, holding Bedivere, asked with a grin. "If you liked the thrill, I think after you become a Servant and get summoned, you should try skydiving. It's a blast."
Bedivere managed a strained smile. "N-No, thank you!"
Such an intense thrill was enough for one go... any more would be unkind to his heart.
"Really not interested? Skydiving's a fantastic sport!" Morpheus pressed on, chuckling inwardly at Bedivere's pale expression before letting the topic drop.
His flight speed was incredible, and the direction of the earlier Holy Lance Rhongomyniad attack gave him a clearer sense of the target city's location.
…
The Solar Temple had risen, transformed into a mobile fortress. Its masters, Ramesses II and Nitocris, gazed into the distance.
They had clearly witnessed the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad's assault on the innocent village.
Naturally, they also saw what followed.
"Quite an unexpected development," Ramesses II said with a smile, lounging with one leg crossed over the other as he looked afar. "I thought he'd use some power tied to angels, but instead, it's closer to Zeus."
Nitocris's eyes held a trace of confusion. "I sense that the power in that thunder spear is somehow more complex than Zeus's own."
"Indeed. It resembles Zeus's power but is distinct, infused with different concepts. Compared to the original Zeus, this lightning is closer to perfection."
Ramesses II nodded in agreement with Nitocris's analysis. He maneuvered the temple forward slowly, continuing, "He can fly, move at great speed, and effortlessly neutralize the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad's attacks. This matter might resolve faster than we initially anticipated. The Lion King's time is running out."
At that moment, Ramesses II exuded supreme confidence. He glanced to the side and said, "Come out."
A dark, towering figure emerged from the shadows... the embodiment of the concept of death, Hassan of the Cursed Arm, the Old Man of the Mountain!
This Grand-class Assassin regarded Ramesses II and said in a low voice, "What are your plans?"
"I've decided to watch the show. If he needs aid, I'll step in. This world deserves saving, and he has that capability. For now, it seems he doesn't need my help." Ramesses II finished, then countered, "And you, Grand Assassin Servant?"
The Old Man of the Mountain spoke, his raspy voice steady. "I shall observe you all... both you and this Morpheus."
He, too, had seen the events unfold. When the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad descended, he had been ready to intervene in the critical moment if Morpheus and the others hadn't stopped it.
Fortunately, the lance's attack was thwarted, and they did so with apparent ease.
This allowed the Old Man of the Mountain to relax. Like Ramesses II, the stronger Chaldea proved, the less those like him, tasked with cleaning up humanity's messes, had to do. It almost felt like a vacation, a sensation that even the stoic leader of assassins found surprisingly pleasant.
After stating his intent to observe without hostility, the Old Man of the Mountain vanished from the scene. Ramesses II smiled. This fearsome assassin was formidable, even for him to face, unless he remained within the temple's protection.
Now free of that constraint, he felt at ease, boldly guiding the temple forward to get a closer look at the battle between the Lion King and Morpheus.
Regardless, watching a clash between a god and a man up close was valuable, offering insights for his true self on the Throne of Heroes.
Moreover, he was eager to see what other unknown powers Morpheus possessed and how he would confront the Lion King head-on.
Just thinking about it was thrilling... how could he stay seated!
…
During his flight, Morpheus noticed numerous craters, as if struck by massive meteors, wiping out everything in their vicinity.
He sensed the familiar aura lingering in these craters... the residual power of the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad.
Clearly, these places had been judged by the Lion King, erased entirely, like circles drawn and filled in a sketching game.
It seemed simple but was, in truth, a terrifyingly cruel act.
Soon, Morpheus and Bedivere reached the vicinity of the Holy City. Though it should have been night, this place remained bathed in daylight, as if isolated from the world.
The Holy City knew no night, for it was guarded by a mighty Sun Knight at its gates!
That was Gawain, one of the Knights of the Round Table!
Tristan's death was evidently known. Gawain drew his weapon, still showing traces of humanity and compassion, but only fleetingly. Morpheus could sense the knight's behavior growing less human, more mechanical.
The golden-haired knight gazed at them coldly, showing a slight flicker of emotion only upon seeing Bedivere.
But he quickly suppressed it, focusing entirely on the intruders before him.
"Knight Gawain shall bar your entry to the Holy City!"
His longsword pointed skyward, toward the sun shining upon him.
"In the name of the Sun Knight, you shall be utterly defeated!"
"The Sun Knight, blessed with Numeral of the Saint, meaning your domain is always daylight, and in daylight, your strength and magical energy recovery are greatly enhanced. Impressive indeed," Morpheus said, clapping his hands.
Morpheus looked at him approvingly but flashed a mischievous grin. "But what if you're no longer in daylight, but in night? What then?"
The words puzzled Gawain, though he quickly regained composure. His Numeral of the Saint was a divine blessing... how could it be so easily disrupted?
Then, Morpheus lightly tapped his staff on the ground. The Holy Grail materialized around him, working in tandem with his necklace. In an instant, the power of Gabriel manifested, forming an angelic silhouette behind him.
Gabriel represented the moon. As Morpheus's magical energy flowed, transforming into a unique spell, the clear sky darkened abruptly. Cool moonlight spilled from above, bathing the Holy City's ground.
Gawain stared at the sky in shock. His Numeral of the Saint had been active, yet now the sunlight was gone, replaced by night!
And tonight's moon was so round, so vast, as if within arm's reach!
Surging magical energy roared with the moon's appearance, amplifying Gabriel's power.
The Holy City's defenses were formidable, its walls capable of withstanding attacks from many Servants, even top-tier ones, unless some extraordinary power was used.
And Morpheus possessed such power!
A massive magic circle unfurled with the moon at its center. Blazing flames gathered in the sky, forming hundreds of rockets!
These rockets rained down on the Holy City like a deluge, each carrying ferocious power!
Rocket Deluge!
If Gabriel unleashed it at full strength, it could erase humanity from Earth entirely. Even with its power and range significantly reduced, this magic retained devastating destructive force!
Gawain summoned all his strength. Facing such an attack, he could only give his all. The light gathered by his sword, Galatine, turned red and fired like a particle cannon, aiming to neutralize the fiery rain of arrows falling from the sky.
He had immense confidence in his strike, believing that with his current power, ordinary humans and Servants were no match for him.
But when his light cannon met the first rocket, it dissipated... and it couldn't even fully counter that single arrow!
Then, hundreds of fiery arrows descended, enveloping the Holy City's walls and gates!
Bedivere realized he had no time to speak with Gawain. Under this assault, not only Gawain but the walls and gates behind him were obliterated. As they crumbled, the city's interior came into view.
The walls represented the Holy City's barrier, and with them gone, the city's protective power against external attacks finally failed.
Morpheus tipped his hat to Bedivere with a smile. "Pretty easy, huh?"
Easy? Far too easy... so easy that Bedivere felt like he was dreaming. Gawain, the Sun Knight, defeated just like that?
And Morpheus had forcibly altered the weather, turning Gawain's daylight into night... a power bordering on divine!
At that moment, two figures suddenly charged from the city... two knights, both very familiar to Morpheus.
One was Lancelot, his expression utterly cold, devoid of human emotion, like a machine. The other was Mordred, wild and frenzied, almost deranged.
They stood in their path, weapons drawn. Seeing Mordred's eyes glowing red, Morpheus knew she had unleashed her power without hesitation upon learning of the Sun Knight's defeat and the fall of the gates, entering a berserk state.
One was an emotionless Lancelot, loyally executing orders even at the cost of his comrades. The other was a ferocious, beast-like Mordred. Morpheus rolled his eyes helplessly and said to the pained Bedivere beside him, "They're in a pretty sorry state, aren't they? But they must've accepted it willingly... otherwise, Agravain wouldn't have escaped the blessing."
Bedivere sighed and bowed to Morpheus. "Please help them, Mr. Morpheus."
Morpheus raised his staff, flames appearing and forming a longsword.
He smiled faintly at Bedivere. "Don't worry. I'll free them soon, sending them back to their Throne of Heroes!"
As his words fell, he stepped forward. Almost simultaneously, Mordred's sword erupted with intense light. In her frenzy, she unleashed her most powerful attack without hesitation!
***
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