Goetia had no choice but to stand alone against the peerless King of Knights.
His reignited determination to face his nemesis in one final battle was snuffed out like a pail of ice water dumped over him.
"HAAAAAAHH!!"
Unable to contain his outrage over his final showdown being abruptly interrupted, Goetia let out an angry roar.
He abandoned skillful close combat with Logres, opting instead to declare his existence through the purest and most primal strength!
A golden aura blazed around him brighter than ever, the concepts of the seventy-two Demon Gods now highly integrated under his will. He began to construct the ultimate light — a force capable of incinerating all human reason.
"Bear witness to my greatness! Understand my ideals! Comprehend the true meaning of my birth!"
"Glory to me! I am Goetia!"
"Goetia, the Beast of Human Incineration!!"
He was about to unleash his Noble Phantasm—
"Now is the time for all to be set right — Ars Almadel Salomonis!"
This was a flawless, technical and visual reproduction of humanity's final light — a power meant to signal the end of an age.
But... it was, after all, merely a copy.
For all its grandeur, it lacked the true weight necessary to overturn the laws of the world.
Facing the net of light that filled the heavens, Logres's expression remained calm and composed.
She did not bother to take a defensive stance — she merely thrust her holy sword forward, silently.
"Thus, the Sword of Excalibur Excelsus reveals itself!"
Spikes of light and a luminous web clashed majestically in the air.
There was no earth-shaking explosion; only the crisp, glassy sound of something shattering — the kind of sound that made your teeth ache.
Goetia's seemingly almighty Noble Phantasm, confronted with the pure luster of her blade, instantly melted and disintegrated into fragments like snow under the sun.
"Ugh... Aaaargh!"
Goetia screamed in agony as his left shoulder and part of his torso were completely vaporized by the light, scattered into countless glowing particles.
He was hurled away by the shock, smacking into a distant wall before finally stopping.
But more than the pain, something else shocked him.
From his wounds came a weakness he had never before experienced.
He was startled at first, but soon understood the reason.
At that moment, the seventy-one Demon Gods inside him all sighed bitterly as one.
Yes — the Temple of Time was once their turf.
Here, they wielded nearly inexhaustible magic and immortality.
But this was predicated on being King Solomon's familiars.
Now, Steve had forcibly severed their connection to King Solomon using cosmic magecraft, making them into outsiders.
Temporarily freed from the King of Magecraft's control, they also no longer received any benefits from the temple's environment.
He had longed for a one-on-one, even duel with that man — who was truly right would be decided by fists and force of will.
Being pounded like a mongrel by some unexpected, extraordinary ringer — this was not a fight, it was an insult.
As Solomon's familiar, the seventy-two Demon Gods should have been enough!
From the far side of the battlefield, a clear, slightly teasing young boy's voice rang out, as if savoring the scene.
"Hey, is this the so-called Grand Caster? What a pathetic face he's making."
Following the sound, a boy with golden hair and red eyes was lounging playfully atop a massive floating stone tablet inscribed with sacred script.
He kicked his legs, rested his chin on one hand, and with the other dangled a lollipop, watching Goetia's struggles with keen amusement.
Beneath his innocent appearance, though, in the depths of his eyes shimmered ageless wisdom, as if nothing could escape his notice, and more than a dash of unconcealed schadenfreude.
This newcomer was none other than Gilgamesh, humanity's oldest Hero-King — the one who, like Steve, survived the Fourth World War ten years ago and had enjoyed Fuyuki's modern-day amusements ever since, ever ageless.
"King of Uruk... You lazy brat, did you just come to laugh at me as well?"
"Don't say that."
"I'm a bit like the Caster hiding in the corner…"
"It's just that, since I started watching late, I'll start from when you made this glamorous transformation."
Gil jumped off the tablet and slowly strolled closer to Goetia, locking eyes with his sharp red gaze, his smile only deepening.
That smile made Goetia feel humiliation like never before.
Because he understood perfectly well what it meant.
"But…"
Young Gil suddenly put on a troubled, almost sympathetic expression, as if genuinely concerned.
"I wanted to fight the ring-bearer, but now you're being hounded by a lady knight. How pitiful, really."
"So? Do you need my help?"
After a pause, he asked, in a mockingly gentle tone as if tossing alms to a beggar:
"For example… would you like another Grand Servant as reinforcements to face Lord Logres?"