"Lord Bluebeard, are you okay?!"
Gilles and Ryunosuke Uryuu were whisked dozens of miles away by Gilles' Noble Phantasm, Prelati's Spellbook, nearly exiting Fuyuki.
They arrived at a dock on Fuyuki's edge, one side facing the sea, the other leading to Miyama's port.
Blood streamed from Gilles' severed arm, staining his garish, sinister cloak a darker crimson, adding to its grim aura.
"I'm fine. Damn it... wretched God! Tired of this clown's act? Bored of my performance? Hahaha, don't blink—my next act will leave you speechless! Hahahaha..."
Gilles, heedless of his bleeding stump, maintained his frenzied demeanor, shouting at the sky.
"Oooh! So cool!"
Ryunosuke cheered from the sidelines.
...
"Roman! Stop!"
"Kingu? What do you want?"
Roman and Iskandar's chariot were ensnared by Kingu's chains, pulled taut.
"Why are you here, Roman?!"
Kingu demanded.
She recalled a shattered world her father had restored, where Roman and others, under the guise of "restoring Human Order," opposed him.
Laughable—her father was the embodiment of Human Order. Would he not know if it needed fixing?
Yet her father spoke highly of them, even granting the "cannon fodder" executing their plans equal standing.
"Hmph! He must've taken a liking to those girls. Such a womanizer. Why doesn't Mother rein him in..."
Roman, unaware of Kingu's thoughts, wasn't keen on meeting her. The reason...
In that battle, both Samuel and they fought for what they believed in with absolute resolve.
But Kingu? She acted like a child—anyone who opposed her father got attacked.
It wasn't wrong, just... troublesome.
In RPG terms, she was an avoidable monster. Fighting her offered no reward, only the risk of losses. Roman instinctively wanted to steer clear.
Too much hassle.
But dodging her now wasn't so easy.
"Kingu, release the chains. Your father sent me to handle something. You wouldn't want to delay his plans, would you?"
Her expression shifted. She didn't fully buy Roman's words but loosened the chains, hopping onto the chariot.
"You think I'd believe you?"
Kingu didn't trust Roman, but their fathers' rapport made her wary. Even a one-in-a-million chance wasn't worth risking.
Still, she'd question him.
"It's complicated. How do I put it? The 'you' from this time isn't your father's... ugh, never mind. After this is over, I'll show you."
It had taken Roman ages to grasp the situation himself. Explaining it to Kingu on the spot was impossible.
"Fine! If I find out you're lying, I'll nail you to a wall."
Kingu growled.
"Alright, alright..."
Hum!
As Roman placated her, a foul, twisted wave of mana pulsed from afar.
It instinctively drew the attention of every Servant and magus.
All eyes turned toward the eastern sea.
As the sun began to rise over the horizon, a chant echoed from Miyama's dock.
An ancient incantation, carried by a hoarse, sinister voice, summoned something not of Earth—an evil from beyond the world.
Gilles stood at the center of the Miyama River, chanting in an unknown tongue. The world warped, reality twisted, and a maddening, eerie force enveloped the area.
This was the only spell Gilles knew, the sole ritual recorded in Prelati's Spellbook requiring a chant.
With multi-phased chanting and the spellbook operating at full power, it achieved a summoning spell beyond the reach of modern mages' lifetimes—a call to the ancient evils of the cosmos, direct kin of the Cthulhu mythos.
As the chant continued, the river transformed into an otherworldly realm. Purple-black mist, born of corrupted mana, filled the air, obscuring the moon, stars, and all visibility.
At Gilles' feet, a terrifying number of demonic shadows gathered. Though they resembled his usual summons, their mana fluctuations far surpassed those of mere fodder. The mist over the river was merely a byproduct of their presence.
The mist clung to the river, but the mana's ripples spread through the air, reaching all of Fuyuki.
Every mage and Servant in the city felt an unheralded sting.
The chaotic mana in the air disrupted their synchronized magical circuits.
No need to search—the enemy had boldly revealed himself.
At that moment, Jeanne, through her "Ruler" ability, Revelation, glimpsed the scene at the sea.
She immediately broadcasted through the Holy Grail system to all Masters and Servants: "The fallen Servant, Caster Gilles de Rais, has appeared on the eastern sea horizon. Please unite to defeat him!"
...
"Now, let us raise the banner of salvation once more! Gather, you forsaken! Gather, you downtrodden! I shall lead you! I shall command you! The resentment of the oppressed shall reach God! O Lord above, I praise You with my rebuke!"
Centered around the summoner, the horde of monstrous demons continued to grow. Prelati's Spellbook operated ceaselessly. Millions of tentacles intertwined, fusing into a grotesque mass.
It was a blood-soaked isle of flesh, drenched in nauseating, corrupt slime—a meat island. Yet the demonic collective seemed unsatisfied, still swelling larger.
Gilles' mana fluctuations grew stronger. The dark waters at his feet began to churn, the countless demons beneath him slowly extending their tentacles.
The tentacles began to envelop Gilles' robed figure.
At first glance, it seemed like a betrayal by his familiars, attacking him. But Gilles, wrapped in their coils, showed no panic. Instead, he let out a shrill, triumphant laugh, almost inhuman in its pitch.
"O God! Will this feast satisfy You?"
If Nyarlathotep were still watching, He'd likely be delighted, finding this pawn, Gilles, even more entertaining than the long-nurtured Kariya Matou.
But... He probably had no time to watch or hear Gilles now.
***
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