The battlefield at the southern gate had instantly transformed into a meat grinder of legendary proportions.
"Longinus: The Spear of Destiny (Anti-Divine/Anti-Fortress A++)"
Lucius roared, unleashing the True Name of his Noble Phantasm and hurling the massive spear directly at the King of Sparta. Because it was an artifact bathed in the blood of the Savior, the spear transitioned into a terrifying Anti-Fortress weapon of pure holy light. Under normal conditions, its sheer destructive output would completely vaporize any frontline.
However, Leonidas I was an absolute anomaly—a Servant whose entire Saint Graph and unique skills were perfectly optimized for defense.
The blinding cross of holy light violently collided with hermopylae Enomotia: Guardian of the Hot Gates (Anti-Army B). The impact shook the very foundations of Gaul, but the spear did not break through. Instead, it was caught in a terrifying deadlock, suspended mid-air as it violently ground forward, shattering the ethereal Spartan shields one by one, yet never quite reaching Leonidas.
With Lucius Longinus and his Cuneus formation completely halted by the Spartan wall, the United Roman Empire executed the next phase of Caesar's flawless strategy: a devastating pincer attack from both sides.
From the right side of the valley, a monstrous figure emerged to intercept the stalled Roman legions. He was a towering, three-meter-tall giant with dark skin completely covered in intricate, terrifying tattoos. He wore heavy golden ornaments on his arms, a dark crimson cloth around his waist, and wielded a pair of massive, grotesque axes.
This was Darius III, the legendary King of Persia and the eternal rival to the King of Conquerors, summoned as a Berserker.
Name: Darius III
Class: Berserker
Attribute: Human
Gender: Male
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Class Skills:
Mad Enhancement (B Rank): Is the Class Skill that characterizes a Berserker, raising basic parameters and strengthens one's physical abilities in exchange of hindering mental capacities and/or in exchange for their sense of reason. Due to Darius III's Mad Enhancement, all Parameters are ranked up but most of his sanity is lost.
Personal Skills:
The Divine Gate Shall Not Be Sealed Off (A Rank): Is a Skill that refers to the measurement of one's fortune to acquire wealth. Since he had enough assets to challenge Iskandar several times during his life, Darius III possesses this skill at Rank B. His financial power is a part of his strength as much as his combat ability.
Disengage (A Rank): Bonus effect of returning battle conditions to what they were at the beginning of the match (1st turn) and restores the condition of this Skill to the initial value. At the same time, it forcibly releases some of the bad status ailments inflicted on the user of this Skill. Darius III effective Disengage Skill is not wasted when retreating from battle even despite being summoned into the Berserker Class.
Achaemenid Pride (A+ Rank): Is a Skill that allows for the continuation of combat after sustaining mortal wounds. The ability to survive. Makes it possible to fight even with deadly injuries and can remain alive so long as one does not receive a decisive fatal wound.
Stats:
Strength A | Endurance A+ | Agility B | Mana E | Luck D | NP A
Noble Phantasm:
Athanaton Ten Thousand: Immortal Ten Thousand Soldiers (Anti-Army A)
Having existed in historical fact, later legends established them as indestructible and immortal, transforming them into moving corpses and walking skeletons. Among them is the War Elephant of Death, a group of Athenaton that has gathered into a colonial organism of sorts that exterminates Darius's enemies with a terrifying blow of magical power. It moves only under the commands of Darius, and it's devoted to annihilating the enemies of the king.
The Mad Enhancement of his class had stripped away his sanity, leaving only his unyielding Achaemenid Pride and his absolute devotion to warfare. Darius let out a deafening, earth-shattering roar that shook the bones of every Roman soldier present.
"Athanaton Ten Thousand: Immortal Ten Thousand Soldiers (Anti-Army A)"
The ground blackened as a terrifying wave of magical energy erupted from the Persian King. From the ether, a colossal, gold-armored War Elephant of Death materialized, accompanied by a horrifying sea of ten thousand skeletal corpses clad in Achaemenid gold. This was his Noble Phantasm—an indestructible colonial organism of undead soldiers devoted solely to annihilating the king's enemies.
Darius III leaped onto the back of the monstrous elephant, directing his immortal army to crush Lucius's trapped forces.
Simultaneously, on the left flank, a much smaller figure stepped onto the battlefield. He was a young boy wearing a red fur cape over simple leather armor. Despite his youth, his eyes burned with the undeniable spark of a supreme conqueror.
This was Alexander, the youthful Rider-class incarnation of Iskandar.
Name: Alexander
Class: Rider
Attribute: Human
Gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class Skills:
Riding (A+ Rank): The Skill needed to pilot mounts and vehicles. At this rank, Alexander can freely control all beasts and vehicles except for dragons.
Magic Resistance (D Rank): A Skill which grants protection against magic. At this rank, it cancels Single-Action spells.
Divinity (E Rank): Aptitude as a Divine Spirit. Although Alexander is said to be the son of the supreme god Zeus, he doesn't possess such a high Divinity as a young boy because he does not recognize himself as such yet.
Personal Skills:
Rosy-cheeked Youth (Lightning) (A Rank): The Skill that denotes one's disposition as a pretty boy who attracts people. It works as a fascination magecraft-like effect regardless of gender, but it will be decreased in effectiveness if the target has the will to resist. The skill can be nullified by anti-magic abilities.
Road to Iskandar (B Rank): The ability to charm as well as the natural talent to command or unify an army or country. The extremely high Charisma that he displays later in life had not been achieved yet when he was still a young boy, but a portion of his budding Charisma is apparent in the Rosy-cheeked Youth Skill.
Omen of the Hegemon-King (A Rank): A Skill which represents the portion of Alexander's spirit he will eventually have as Iskandar. By stimulating his spirit, he obtains a plus modifier for every kind of check.[1]
Stats:
Strength C | Endurance B | Agility B | Mana C | Luck A+ | NP B+
Noble Phantasm:
Bucephalus: The First Trampling Domination (Anti-Army B+)
By releasing its True Name, Bucephalus performs a ferocious assault upon the enemy, scattering and trampling them down with lightning worthy of his father Zeus. The scale of destruction is less than that of the "Distant Trampling Domination", but it has excellent mobility.
Zeus Funder: God's Blessing (Anti-Unit C)
Using Zeus's lightning, every time it is employed, it strengthens his body, increases his Divinity Skill and lowers Rosy-cheeked Youth by one rank. If used as a child too many times, it will turn him into his adult form.
"Let us ride forth and finally reach the other side!" the young boy shouted, his voice carrying clearly over the din of battle. "Here and now, I shall carve my first step! Bucephalus: The First Trampling Domination (Anti-Army B+)"
A ferocious bolt of divine lightning struck the earth before him, materializing a magnificent, pitch-black warhorse. Alexander effortlessly vaulted onto the saddle. Just as he gripped the reins, the deafening roar of the Persian King echoed from across the battlefield.
Alexander's eyes widened, a fierce, competitive grin spreading across his face as he recognized his eternal rival.
"You are incredibly impatient, aren't you, Darius III?!" Alexander laughed, the thrill of battle washing over him. "Very well, if that is what you want!"
Refusing to be outdone by the Berserker, Alexander tapped into his divine heritage, stimulating his Spirit Origin to temporarily draw out the power he would eventually possess as an adult.
"Zeus Funder: God's Blessing (Anti-Unit C)" A surge of divine lightning enveloped the young Rider. The conceptual blessing strengthened his physical parameters, increased his Divinity, and caused his body to age slightly, pushing him closer to the terrifying King of Conquerors he was destined to become.
With his power amplified, Alexander pointed his sword directly at the trapped Roman army.
The black warhorse reared back before charging forward, transforming into a ferocious comet of divine lightning that scattered the earth beneath its hooves, aiming directly at Nero's left flank.
The "Widened Arrow Formation" orchestrated by the United Rome Empire was a masterpiece of military strategy. With the vanguard completely stalled by Leonidas, and the flanks violently crushed by the combined apocalyptic might of Alexander and Darius III, the United Roman Empire had created a flawless, inescapable kill zone.
Under normal circumstances, this would be an absolute, crushing defeat for Lucius Longinus and Emperor Nero.
But Lucius was not fighting alone. And more importantly, this entire desperate situation was exactly what Chaldea's Master had anticipated. The Holy Spear wasn't just a vanguard; it was the ultimate, irresistible bait.
Up on the high ridge overlooking the valley, Fujimaru stood with his hands in his pockets, his blue eyes tracking the chaotic flow of magical energy with the absolute precision of a seasoned commander.
"They took the bait," Fujimaru stated, his voice calm and completely unbothered by the legendary destruction unfolding below. He tapped his comms bracer. "Lancelot. Vlad III. It's your turn to clock in. Assist Lucius and dismantle their flanks. Be on your guard for any secondary traps."
Phase Two of the operation had officially begun.
Without a single word, the two heavy-hitters of Chaldea leapt from the towering ridge, descending into the valley like a pair of devastating meteors.
Alexander was riding the lightning, his face lit up with the pure, exhilarating thrill of battle. Bucephalus: The First Trampling Domination (Anti-Army B+) thundered across the earth, the divine azure lightning of Zeus threatening to completely trample the left side of Nero's army.
But suddenly, the sky darkened.
A massive figure clad in pitch-black armor crashed directly into the path of the divine comet. The impact shattered the earth, sending a shockwave that kicked up a massive crater of dirt and stone.
"Arrrrrrrrrr!" Lancelot, the Mad Dog of the Round Table, stood from the crater. The cursed, suffocating black fog bleeding from his visor violently clashed against the blinding azure lightning of the young Rider. Lancelot didn't bother drawing Arondight just yet. Instead, his Knight of Owner: A Knight Does Not Die with Empty Hands (Anti-Unit A+) activated as he grabbed a shattered, massive stone pillar from the ruins of a nearby watchtower.
The stone instantly corrupted into a jet-black, vein-streaked Noble Phantasm.
As Bucephalus charged forward to trample him, Lancelot swung the massive stone pillar like a baseball bat. The collision between the divine warhorse's lightning and the Black Knight's corrupted strength created a deafening thunderclap. Alexander's eyes widened in sheer shock as the momentum of his First Trampling Domination was forcefully, brutally halted by a single, maddened knight.
"What incredible physical strength!" Alexander laughed, pulling back on the reins as Bucephalus skidded across the dirt, sparks flying everywhere. "You're a Berserker, aren't you?! Splendid! Let us see if your madness can outlast my ambition!"
Lancelot merely roared, his red visor flaring as he charged directly into the storm of lightning, swinging the massive, corrupted pillar with terrifying, relentless speed.
On the opposite side of the valley, the golden, skeletal tide of the Athanaton Ten Thousand was marching relentlessly forward, threatening to swallow the Roman infantry whole. Darius III sat atop the colossal War Elephant of Death, his monstrous axes ready to reap the souls of the living.
Suddenly, a storm of black mist descended directly in front of the undead army.
Vlad III landed with the absolute, terrifying elegance of a true sovereign. His black cape billowed in the wind, his golden eyes narrowing in sheer disgust at the moving corpses. To the Lord of Wallachia, the undead were an insult to the very concept of a proud kingdom.
"You bring rotten corpses to my battlefield, Persian King?" Vlad III's voice was cold, echoing with a chilling, undeniable authority. "A true ruler does not hide behind the dead. He paves his nation with the blood of his enemies."
Darius III let out a deafening, monstrous roar, commanding the golden skeletons and the colossal War Elephant to trample the lone vampire king.
Vlad III didn't even draw a weapon. He simply raised his gloved hand and snapped his fingers.
"Kazıklı Bey: The Lord of Execution (Anti-Army B)"
The earth beneath the Persian army did not just shake; it erupted.
Thousands of jagged, blood-stained iron stakes violently burst from the ground in a massive, terrifying forest of execution. The golden skeletons of the Athanaton were instantly skewered, suspended mid-air as the stakes pierced right through their immortal armor. Even the colossal War Elephant trumpeted in agony as dozens of massive iron spikes erupted beneath it, halting its destructive march entirely.
Darius III swung his massive axes, shattering the stakes that aimed for him, his Mad Enhancement flaring as he glared down at the Impaler.
"Your army is grounded, Berserker," Vlad III smirked, a cruel, aristocratic smile forming on his lips as he materialized his black lance. "Now, descend from your beast and face the Lord of Wallachia."
With the First Emperor's pincer attack completely intercepted and locked down by Chaldea's heaviest hitters, the tides of the battlefield violently shifted. The United Roman Empire's trap had been broken, and the real war for Gaul had just begun.
The Lord of Wallachia stood amidst his forest of iron stakes, his golden eyes completely locked onto the raging King of Persia. Vlad III's aristocratic pride swelled as he prepared to dismantle Darius III piece by piece. He viewed the impaled, thrashing undead around him as nothing more than irrelevant trash, allowing his absolute vigilance of his immediate surroundings to slip for just a fraction of a second.
It was a fatal miscalculation—not against Caesar, but against the very nature of a three-way war. While Chaldea and the United Roman Empire clashed, the third faction had silently slipped onto the board.
From the shadow of a completely skewered, golden skeletal soldier, a presence utterly devoid of bloodlust, hostility, or even the intent to live moved with terrifying, absolute silence.
Before Vlad III could even turn his head, a voice whispered right beside his ear. It was calm, devoid of hesitation, and carried the heavy, undeniable weight of a suicide mission.
"I do not fear my death. I do not desire my life. This soul is... Only For Killing: Nonreturnable Dagger (Anti-Unit B+)."
A blur of floral fabric and sharp steel bypassed Vlad's defenses completely. With a sickening shck, a cursed dagger plunged directly into the Lord of Wallachia's chest, piercing straight through his armor and into his heart.
Vlad III gasped, his eyes widening in sheer shock as a dark, corrupted blood spilled from his lips. He looked down at the figure who had just dealt him a mortal blow.
Standing intimately close to him, gripping the hilt of the dagger with grayish-painted nails, was a slender woman. Despite her slim frame, her thighs were distinctly muscular, built for explosive, singular bursts of speed. Her sharp, calculating eyes were a striking shade of teal, staring coldly into the vampire king's golden ones. Her black hair was tied slightly to the side, forming a remarkably long and thin ponytail that cascaded all the way down to her sandaled feet, with two longer strands perfectly framing her face.
She wore a beautiful, multi-layered kimono that seemed entirely unsuited for a battlefield. The outer layer featured wide, elegant floral patterns with large, yukata-like sleeves. A distinct lily symbol was drawn at her waist, sitting just beneath a tight blue and white sash secured by a delicate cord.
This was Jing Ke, the legendary Assassin who attempted to take the life of China's First Emperor.
Name: Jing Ke
Class: Assassin
Attribute: Human
Gender: Female
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Class Skills:
Presence Concealment (B Rank): Suppresses one's presence as a Servant. It is suitable for espionage activities. If one suppresses their presence completely, it is extremely difficult for them to be detected. However, the rank of Presence Concealment drops greatly when they are preparing to attack.
Personal Skills:
Restraint (A Rank): An assassin's secret art that will absolutely not let one's bloodlust come out to the surface until the moment just before the attack. If it at least reaches Rank A, others would be unable to surmise the presence of one's bloodlust until the instant they grasp a weapon in their hand.
Planning (B Rank): Tactical thinking done up to assassinating a target. Unlike Tactics, this is constricted to only assassination missions in which few people are involved. Furthermore, having herself return alive is not taken into account.
Like There's No One Watching (A Rank): The creator of this idiom, which is generally still used even in the present. Although Jing Ke drinks alcohol often with her friend Gao Jianli, she would frequently become too intoxicated and start to act violently, bawl out, and become indignant, so that kind of state was lamented as something like her acting "as if no one is nearby" to watch her be like this.
Stats:
Strength D | Endurance E | Agility A | Mana E | Luck D | NP B+
Noble Phantasm:
Only For Killing: Nonreturnable Dagger (Anti-Unit B+)
It is the blade prepared for the assassination of the First Emperor of China, said in anecdotes to have been hidden in a map scroll, and so it is very easy to conceal. The poison on the blade can instantly kill with just a scratch, though those attributed with poison resistance will be advantageous against it. However, that is not the true worth of this Noble Phantasm. Using this dagger shows one's readiness to "never return from the mission." Jing Ke had accepted her death and devoted her all into carrying out the assassination. As such, it is an assassination Noble Phantasm which is highly difficult to evade.
And she was an operative of the Anti-Roman Empire.
She wasn't here to help Darius III; she was here because the Anti-Roman forces specialized in annihilating leadership when they were most vulnerable. Furthermore, her Saint Graph carried a terrifying conceptual advantage against anyone who held the title of "King" or "Emperor." Against a sovereign as fiercely proud as Vlad III, her dagger didn't just pierce flesh—it dealt absolute, critical conceptual damage to his very Spirit Origin.
"You... insolent..." Vlad III gritted his fangs. Despite the fatal strike to his heart, his incredible endurance and vampiric nature prevented him from immediately fading. He raised his hand, attempting to summon a stake directly beneath her feet.
But Jing Ke was already moving. Having delivered her lethal payload, the Assassin kicked off Vlad's chest with her powerful legs, backflipping gracefully into the cover of the undead horde to conceal her presence once more. She cast a brief, cold glance toward Darius III on his elephant, confirming that the Berserker was next on her list if the opportunity arose.
The Lord of Wallachia staggered backward, dropping to one knee as he clutched his bleeding chest. The iron stakes holding down the Athanaton Ten Thousand began to violently tremble as the mana holding them together wavered.
Up on the ridge, Fujimaru's eyes narrowed dangerously as he processed the sudden interference.
"An Assassin. And she didn't come from Caesar's camp," Fujimaru stated, his mind rapidly adjusting to the new variable. The chaotic spread of the three factions meant there were no safe zones. "The Anti-Roman Empire is here, and they're using our clash with the United Roman Empire as a smokescreen to snipe the commanders."
Just as the iron stakes holding back the golden undead began to waver, a massive shadow suddenly eclipsed the chaotic battlefield.
From high above the clouds, plummeting through the sky in an absolute, unrestrained freefall, came a colossal figure.
He was a mountain of a man, standing well over two meters tall. His pale skin was a gruesome tapestry of countless scars—the undeniable proof of infinite battles, brutal training, and a life forged in the bloody sands of the arena. His massive body and even his face were tightly bound in heavy leather straps, an oppressive restraint that would cripple any normal warrior.
Yet, as he plummeted toward the earth, he was smiling.
It was an unsettling, euphoric grin that stretched across his scarred face, as if he were savoring every second of the wind rushing past him. His expression seemed to mock the very restraints that bound him, silently asking the heavens, "Is this all that binds me?" He exuded the terrifying aura of a being completely unbound by the limits of human sanity or physical normalcy. Whether he was receiving a lethal blow or delivering one, that calm, joyous smile never faded.
KRA-BOOM!
The man slammed into the earth right in the center of the battlefield, hitting the ground with the force of a meteor. A massive shockwave ruptured the soil, scattering the golden skeletons of the Athanaton Ten Thousand: Immortal Ten Thousand Soldiers (Anti-Army A) and forcing even Darius's colossal War Elephant to stagger backward.
As the dust settled from the crater, the giant slowly stood up to his full, terrifying height. He flexed his massive, bound arms, his booming voice echoing with absolute, joyous madness.
"It is time to tear down the oppressors! HA HA HA HA!!"
Name: Spartacus
Class: Berserker
Attribute: Human
Gender: Male
Alignment: True Neutral
Class Skills:
Mad Enhancement (EX Rank): 8ncontrollable Berserker with ranked-up parameters and loss of most reason. Even while under Mad Enhancement, Spartacus can normally speak things such as "Those who are bound are strong! For until the time when they are set free, anger and sadness will continue to be accumulated." However, because he is fixated with thoughts of "always making the most difficult choices", he never listens to what people have to say. In practice, it is impossible to come to a mutual understanding of intentions with him. Spartacus is indeed an uncontrollable Berserker. Once he has set his objective, he will not change his mind at all. Even if his Master expends one Command Spell, it will only weigh him down and delay the inevitable. In order to stop him, two Command Spells would be required.
Personal Skills:
Honor of Suffering (B+ Rank): Skill that make those who have it become more powerful as they are inflicted more pain. The cost used to heal injuries via magecraft or similar methods is reduced.
Unyielding Will (A Rank): Possesses resistance against physical and mental damage. However, said resistance will not hold against attacks that aim at beguiling others - such as illusions.
Triumphant Return of the Sword (B Rank): Self regeneration while increasing physical strength.
Stats:
Strength A | Endurance EX | Agility D | Mana E | Luck D | NP C
Noble Phantasm:
Crying Warmonger: Howl of the Wounded Beast (Anti-Unit (Self) C)
The ability is a continuously active-type Noble Phantasm, converting part of the damage inflicted by opponents into Magical Energy and storing it within his body. The energy accumulated within can be used to boost his physical abilities and self-healing, and the efficiency of the conversion raises more as his physical ability decreases. Due to Honor of Suffering (B+ Rank), he automatically heals from wounds as time passes, and in the case of him facing strong Servants and such, his body itself can transform under constant damage.
If he increases in strength enough, his magical energy is able to even permeate debris struck by his sword to allow it to damage Servants. It eventually reaches the point where even his Master is unable to intervene. Being damaged to the point of being on the verge of death will allow him to save up enough energy to destroy everything before his eyes.
This was Spartacus, the strongest gladiator of Rome and the eternal Incarnation of Rebellion.
Summoned as a Berserker for the Anti-Roman Empire, he was the absolute worst-case scenario for a sovereign. Just as Jing Ke held an advantage against emperors, Spartacus possessed a terrifying conceptual advantage against those who ruled from a throne. To the rebellious gladiator, any king was an "oppressor" whose existence demanded to be violently overthrown.
Vlad III, already kneeling and bleeding heavily from the Assassin's cursed strike to his heart, looked up at the towering, smiling giant. The Lord of Wallachia was a king who demanded absolute submission, while Spartacus was a slave who grew infinitely stronger the more he was oppressed. It was a completely lethal mismatch.
Up on the ridge, Fujimaru's calm demeanor finally cracked, his jaw tightening.
"Jing Ke for the surgical strike, and Spartacus as the heavy artillery. The Anti-Roman Empire didn't just crash the battle; they set an ambush specifically for the kings on the field," Fujimaru analyzed rapidly. He immediately grabbed his comms bracer.
"Mash! Kiyohime! D'Eon!" Fujimaru barked, his voice laced with absolute urgency. "Vlad is down, and he's surrounded by two Servants heavily countered against him! We need to pull him out of there now!"
On the left flank, the earth continued to shatter under the weight of two unstoppable forces clashing in a beautiful, destructive stalemate.
The young Conqueror and the Mad Knight were locked in absolute, even combat. Alexander rode atop Bucephalus: The First Trampling Domination (Anti-Army B+), raining down strikes of divine azure lightning, his Zeus Funder: God's Blessing (Anti-Unit C) amplifying his physical parameters to match a full-grown Servant. Yet, every strike of his sword and every trampling hoof of his steed was met with terrifying, perfectly executed counters.
Lancelot swung his corrupted stone pillar with monstrous strength, his black fog violently rejecting the divine lightning. Despite being a Berserker, Lancelot's peerless martial arts allowed him to fight the young Rider to an absolute standstill, turning that side of the valley into a localized storm of black and blue energy.
But on the right flank, the situation had rapidly deteriorated into a death sentence.
Vlad III was fundamentally a sovereign who ruled over his land. His true, terrifying power as a Servant was intrinsically tied to his ability to establish a domain a territory where his Demonic Defender of the State (EX Rank) could passively boost his parameters and allow him to manifest millions of stakes effortlessly.
But here, on the foreign soil of Gaul, ambushed before he could properly claim the territory, his power was severely limited.
That limitation, combined with the lethal, conceptual wound to his heart from Jing Ke and the overwhelming onslaught of Spartacus, pushed the proud King of Wallachia to the absolute brink.
"Yield, oppressor! Let your blood fertilize the earth for the free!" Spartacus laughed with euphoric madness. The giant gladiator swung his massive, crude gladius with devastating force.
Vlad III raised his black lance, barely parrying the blow. The sheer kinetic impact forced the vampire king to his knees, his arms trembling under the weight of the giant's smiling, terrifying strength. Spartacus's Mad Enhancement combined with his hatred for rulers made every swing heavier than the last.
"Kazıklı Bey: The Lord of Execution (Anti-Army B)" Vlad grunted, his mouth stained with his own blood.
A dozen iron stakes erupted from the ground beneath Spartacus, piercing the giant's legs and torso. But true to his legend, Spartacus didn't even flinch. The pain only made his smile widen. He simply flexed his monstrous muscles, shattering the iron stakes that impaled him as if they were made of brittle glass.
"Your chains are fragile, tyrant!" Spartacus roared joyously, raising his sword for a crushing overhead strike.
As Vlad braced himself for the blow, a cold, chilling presence flickered in his blind spot.
Jing Ke did not shout or announce her presence. The Assassin darted out from the shadow of the colossal War Elephant, her muscular thighs propelling her across the battlefield with lethal silence. While Spartacus acted as the overwhelming anvil, she was the precise, deadly hammer. Her dagger, dripping with curses, aimed directly for the blind spot at the back of Vlad's neck—a strike meant to completely sever his Spirit Core.
"A king without his castle is just a man waiting to be executed," Jing Ke whispered coldly as she closed the distance.
The Lord of Wallachia was completely surrounded, overpowered, and outmaneuvered. His localized stakes were not enough to hold down the rebellious giant, and his wounded body was too slow to evade the flawless strike of the emperor-killing Assassin.
At the southern gate, a deafening crack finally echoed across the valley.
Through sheer, relentless holy pressure, Longinus: The Spear of Destiny (Anti-Divine/Anti-Fortress A++) shattered the final ethereal shield of Thermopylae Enomotia: Guardian of the Hot Gates (Anti-Army B). The blinding cross of light broke through the Spartan formation, and Lucius instantly surged forward, brandishing his spear to strike down the exhausted Leonidas.
But it was too late.
High above the clouds, completely unseen by the warring armies, a woman's voice whispered into the ether. It was a voice devoid of malice, yet carrying the absolute, mechanical weight of annihilation.
"I appreciate life... but I will destroy that civilization! Photon Ray: Sword of the War God (Anti-Army A)"
The sky violently tore open. A colossal, multi-colored pillar of sheer, blinding energy plummeted from the heavens. It was a terrifying, prismatic rainbow of pure destruction—so infinitely bright and intensely hot that the entire world seemed to turn completely white. This was the Sword of Mars, the ultimate Noble Phantasm of the Great King of Destruction, Altera.
Name: Altera
Class: Saber
Attribute: Human
Gender: Female
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Class Skills:
Magic Resistance (B Rank): The ability resists magic. At B Rank, it cancels the use of spells with a chant that is three verses or below. Altera receives almost no damage even against High-Magecraft and Greater Rituals.
Riding (A Rank): The ability to pilot vehicles and mounts. She is able to operate all vehicles and beasts freely except for Divine Beasts and Dragon Kinds.
Divinity (B Rank): Altera is not related to a Divine Spirit by blood; however, Europe was overrun on what was considered to be the Authority of God, being labeled the 'Scourge of God'. Because of this, Altera has a high-ranking Divine Spirit aptitude as a Heroic Spirit.
Civilization Erosion (EX Rank): A subconsciously active Skill of Altera. Anything she grasps is transformed into its 'best' form currently most suited for herself. What its 'best' form is depends on Altera's own perspective and does not necessarily the object at its greatest or most excellent.
Personal Skills:
Scourge of God (A Rank): An instinctive capacity for utilizing tactical knowledge in battles where many are mobilized. Provides a plus modifier when using or defending against Anti-Army Noble Phantasms.
Perfect Construct (EX Rank): Having possession of a perfect body as a living being since birth, Altera has access to this Skill. She can temporarily rank up her Strength. Furthermore, no matter how many calories she ingests, her body shape will not change.
Crest of the Star (EX Rank): The unique pattern imprinted on Altera's body. By expending Magical Energy through it, Altera can temporarily enhance the performance of any desired part of the body. An efficient Skill that costs little mana but lacks the explosiveness of Skills like Mana Burst. In addition, this unique Skill also has the effects of the Instinct Skill.
Stats:
Strength B | Endurance A | Agility A | Mana B | Luck A | NP A+
Noble Phantasm:
Photon Ray: Sword of the War God (Anti-Army A)
It is a longsword with a futuristic design. The 'blade' of the sword, formed of tri-colored bands of light, is believed to be capable of destroying all existence on Earth. When its True Name is released, the blade begins to spin, projecting mana in a rainbow-like light as Altera charges at her target with the strength to wipe out an entire enemy camp. Upon unleashing its true power, both its rank and type classification as a Noble Phantasm increases.
Teardrop Photon Ray: Star of Tears, Sword of the War God (Anti-Army/Anti-Fortress A++)
The sword of light is, in actuality, nothing but some sort of laser pointer that designates the attack spot. Simultaneously as its True Name is unleashed, a giant light pillar (the real Photon Ray) thrusts itself in against Altera's designated spot from the distant skies above, annihilating a wide area. It's, so to speak, an orbiting satellite laser attack. Because of this property of causing an attack from above, it is useful for attacking strongholds.
When invoking this Noble Phantasm, Altera is actually establishing a connection with Mars. Due to her actions as the White Titan Velber 02 14,000 years ago, Mars loathes Altera more than anyone else and upon recognizing the connection, he would unleash Photon Ray, his light of authority, towards her. Altera then redirects the light of authority towards a spot of her choice, though this costs a great deal of mana.
Every Heroic Spirit on the battlefield instantly felt the apocalyptic threat bearing down on them. All animosity between the factions evaporated in the face of absolute annihilation.
As Vlad III looked up at the falling star, the oppressive pressure of Spartacus and the chilling presence of Jing Ke vanished. With a distortion of space, the two Anti-Roman assassins were forcefully teleported away from the epicenter by their Master, leaving the kings to their doom.
The Roman and Spartan soldiers froze in sheer terror, yet, out of absolute loyalty to their commanders, not a single man broke formation to flee.
In a desperate bid for survival, the remaining legends unleashed everything they had against the falling heavens.
Vlad III gritted his bloodstained fangs, throwing his hands upward Kazıklı Bey: The Lord of Execution (Anti-Army B) to summon thousands of massive iron stakes, forming a dense, bristling canopy of spikes over his head.
Lucius Longinus abandoned his charge on Leonidas, redirecting his colossal tower shield and hurling his holy spear Longinus: The Spear of Destiny (Anti-Divine/Anti-Fortress A++) directly into the sky to intercept the descending light.
Leonidas roared, Thermopylae Enomotia: Guardian of the Hot Gates (Anti-Army B) commanding his 300 Spartan phantoms to overlap their shields upward, creating a massive, glowing dome over the United Roman infantry.
Darius III bellowed a command to the Athanaton Ten Thousand: Immortal Ten Thousand Soldiers (Anti-Army A), forcing his colossal War Elephant and thousands of golden undead to pile on top of one another, forming a grotesque, towering wall of immortal flesh and gold.
Lancelot gripped his pitch-black sword Arondight: The Unfading Light of the Lake (Anti-Unit A++) with both hands, his red visor blazing as he swung the blade through the air with god-like speed, launching dozens of massive, corrupted mana waves upward.
Alexander pushed Zeus Funder: God's Blessing (Anti-Unit C) to its absolute limit, channeling the divine azure lightning through Bucephalus to strike at the heart of the prismatic pillar.
Up on the distant ridge, Fujimaru's calm demeanor shattered as the sky turned white. He recognized that level of energy immediately.
"This is bad," Fujimaru said, his voice dropping all pretense of a human Master.
He didn't hesitate. Tapping into the absolute depths of his true Caster Saint Graph, his eyes glowed with an otherworldly light.
"Greater Teleportation!"
In a flash of spatial distortion, Fujimaru vanished from the ridge, materializing directly in the center of the doomed battlefield. The heat was already unbearable, the air itself beginning to ignite. He found Lancelot, Vlad III, Lucius, and the terrified Roman legions clustered relatively close together as they launched their desperate counterattacks.
Fujimaru slammed his hands together, bypassing chanting and incantations entirely through the sheer authority of his magic. A massive, intricate, ten-tier magical glyph erupted beneath the feet of his vanguard and the entire Roman army.
"Greater Mass Teleportation!"
Just milliseconds before the multi-colored light made contact with their weapons, Chaldea's vanguard and the entire Roman detachment vanished from the valley, successfully evacuated to the safety of the ridge.
Meanwhile, on the far left flank, Alexander instantly recognized that even their combined Noble Phantasms could not hold back the Scourge of God. Trusting in his B-Rank Agility and the unmatched speed of his legendary steed, the young Conqueror pulled hard on the reins. Bucephalus transformed into a streak of pure lightning, desperately outrunning the expanding blast radius just as the pillar made landfall.
KRA-ZOOOOOOM!!!
The prismatic pillar of Photon Ray slammed into the earth. It did not explode; it simply erased.
The multi-colored light enveloped the center of the battlefield for several terrifying, blinding seconds, completely drowning out the roars of the Spartan King and the monstrous Persian Berserker. The sheer heat vaporized the iron stakes, melted the ethereal shields, and reduced the immortal golden army to ash.
When the blinding light finally faded, a suffocating silence fell over Gaul.
The battlefield was gone. Where the armies had just been standing, there was now only a massive, smoldering, glassed crater. Small fires danced across the scorched earth, but there was absolutely nothing left. Not a single drop of blood, not a scrap of golden armor, and no trace of Leonidas I or Darius III.
The Great King of Destruction had wiped the board clean.
! Lancer, Leonidas III has been defeated !
! Berserker, Darius III has been defeated !