"The enemy is at the peak of Mount Enzō, awaiting our challenge. So, let me go over our battle plan once more!"
For Chaldea, this singularity was like an illusion shrouded in mist and lies, unable to distinguish truth from falsehood, not knowing what was right or wrong. But for the Master, Fujimaru Ritsuka, none of that mattered. As long as Fujimura Locke could be found, all problems would be solved.
Therefore, they had only one thing left—to defeat the Emperor's Angels and, in the glory of the Lord of Humanity, win the duel!
"First of all, I asked Lord Gilgamesh to contact the Gilgamesh on the opposite side. Both sides have approved the duel rules: we will send seven Servants, and the other side will also send seven Servants. If one of us wins, we will earn the right to meet the Emperor!"
"But we haven't even gathered our people yet, have we?! Why are you so excited?! Moreover, the group of monsters on the other side can cross galaxies. How are we supposed to beat them?!"
Matou Shinji slapped the low table with a grumbling face and desperately complained to the excited Fujimaru Ritsuka.
But Fujimaru Ritsuka showed an expression of having everything under control, patted her chest, and loudly declared:
"In this Holy Grail War, besides the four of you Masters and Servants, the Master of Lancer Cu Chulainn, the fake priest's Master, will be transferred to you."
"The Caster position will be taken by the great wise king, Lord Gilgamesh himself."
"The Rider Master, Miss Kireisakura, did not wish to participate in the battle and has already transferred her Master authority to me."
"Furthermore, I myself have been recognized as a Master in this Holy Grail War. I have summoned another Assassin, and I have obtained a total of seven Servants!"
Ilya and Rin Tohsaka heard this outrageous and airtight arrangement, subconsciously looked at each other, and immediately turned away, pretending nothing had happened.
After a while, Rin Tohsaka took the initiative to come to her senses, furrowing her brow and asking the most important question:
"You have to single-handedly supply the magical energy for three Servants? Even if you are a serious Master, isn't that too much of a stretch?"
When asked, Fujimaru Ritsuka smiled meaningfully and said word by word to the stunned group around the table:
"It's not that I single-handedly supply the magical energy for three Servants~ It's that all of you Servants, the entire supply of magical energy, will be covered by us here in Chaldea!!"
"Of course, it's not just magical energy! Even the full support for strengthening spiritual foundations and the full release of Noble Phantasms are completely covered by our Chaldea!! Hahahahaha! Let's have a real fight!!"
Thinking about being able to face the Emperor's Angels, who had fought in interstellar wars for ten thousand years, Fujimaru Ritsuka grew more and more excited as she spoke. The blood rushed to her head. She not only flashed her signature villainous grin but also "clicked" the cushion of her tea cup on the low table. She suddenly stood up, stepped onto the low table with one foot, looked up at the sky, and howled:
"Hehehehe! Hehehehe!"
Seeing that her senior had completely lost it and was having a terrorist freak-out on the spot, Matthew beside her instantly turned pale, her face full of fear and impending social death.
Glancing at the uncontrollable expressions of Shirou Emiya and the others, as if saying "I don't know who this is," she hurriedly tugged at the hem of Fujimaru Ritsuka's clothes, trying to stop her from flying off in a way that would be social suicide.
Matthew hurriedly pulled at Fujimaru Ritsuka's sleeve with an expression about to cry, desperately trying to pull her back:
"Senior! Be normal! Stop shouting! Everyone is watching!"
---
At the peak of Ryūdō Temple, the night wind was cold, and the moonlight spilled over the mountain spring reservoir, breaking into sparkling reflections.
The tyrant Gilgamesh, dressed in a neat black motorcycle suit, leaned against a pine tree trunk. His burgundy eyes were full of defiance and impatience. He unceremoniously questioned the heroic spirit Locke beside him about the current situation of the main body deep within the great depression.
"Hey, wild dog, what's the status of your master now?"
Locke, the heroic spirit incarnated as Sigismund, paid no attention to the oldest king's rambling. He didn't even spare half of his remaining time for Gilgamesh beside him. He turned around, his gaze falling on Medea, who had just completed the ceremony, and his voice under the heavy power armor was calm as iron:
"Is everything alright?"
The last magical thread at Medea's fingertips sank into the ground. The entire magical ritual around the reservoir instantly lit up with blue runic patterns. She looked up at Sigismund and solemnly nodded.
Sigismund nodded slightly, solemnly thanked the witch, then stepped forward. His spiritual energy and magic surged across his body, aimed at the core of the ritual, and he released his Noble Phantasm.
"Noble Phantasm release! Eternal Crusade — A!"
The thunderous declaration pierced the night sky of Ryūdō Temple. In the next second, the Noble Phantasm, forged from Sigismund's forty-thousand-year oath, exploded.
With his spiritual foundation as an anchor, the innate bounded field was like a wave of the Star Sea, instantly engulfing the entire peak of Ryūdō Temple, erasing all the moonlight, pine forests, and mountain rocks of Fuyuki.
This Noble Phantasm, based on the supreme goal of the Great Human Expedition, pulled everyone into an epic spanning the galaxy the moment the incantation was fully released.
Within the boundless barrier lay a strange and endless sea of bright stars. Countless steel giants of the human expeditionary fleet sank and floated in the Star Sea. The sparks of gunpowder and artillery fire drifted in the void. Beneath their feet was a planetary land burning with war. Before them lay a great battlefield spanning millennia, never-ending.
The challengers, who had just formed a team of seven Servants and strengthened their spiritual foundations to complete magical replenishment and prepare for the decisive battle, hadn't even had time to step out of the Fujimura house gate before the world around them collapsed in an instant.
The warm yellow lights, the texture of the tatami mats, the evening breeze, and the moonlight of Fuyuki were all crushed in an instant.
By the time all stabilized their bodies after the sudden whirlwind, they had already been forcibly drawn into the core of Sigismund's innate bounded field.
Matou Shinji: "This... where is this? Have we been attacked?"
Looking at the ruined dome of the flagship bridge above his head and the battlefield beyond the dome, burning across the entire Terran system, Shirou Emiya understood.
Shirou Emiya's pupils suddenly contracted. He looked up at the ruined bridge dome above, his eyes piercing through the broken alloy deck, falling directly onto the battlefield beyond the dome, burning across the entire Terran system, and then he understood everything.
Shirou Emiya: "No, we weren't accidentally drawn in. We were invited—as duelists, we were invited to this gladiatorial arena, specially created for mortal combat."
Kilometer-long interstellar giant ships collided head-on in the void. Adamantium armor plates, strong enough to withstand a direct cannon shot, seemed like paper torn by the wind. Shattered fragments raced across the Star Sea with the shockwaves of martyrdom.
Ferocious flames of cannon fire exploded one after another in the dead, silent eternal night, illuminating the cold universe as bright as day. Blazing white beams of light lances tore through tens of thousands of kilometers of void, intercepting and melting entire warships. Plasma streams with destructive fury raced through the fleet formation. One by one, starships turned into massive fireballs in the melting of their reactor cores. Crimson fire dyed the entire Star Sea the color of blood and flame.
Gunpowder smoke and molten metal swirled in the void. Broken hull fragments, solidified blood, and the bodies of fallen soldiers floated in zero gravity. Even the universe itself seemed to emit silent cries and tremors after this fateful collision that had lasted for millennia.
And beneath their feet was the perfectly recreated last stand of the original Emperor's Champion, Sigismund—the flagship of the Chaos Warmaster Abaddon, the Soul of Vengeance.
Everyone was so shocked by what they saw that they couldn't utter half a word. This magnificent battlefield across the Star Sea completely shattered the insignificance of these humans.
The consciousnesses that had once risked their lives seemed as light as fleeting cosmic dust before this war capable of shaking the universe.
At that moment, they did not know that tens of thousands of years later, a veteran who had fought for the Emperor his entire life would find himself on the bridge of this battleship, dragging his body, long worn down by millennia of conquest, and at the cost of his own life, carve wounds that would never heal into the invincible Warmaster of Chaos.
At that moment, on a nearby deck, Sigismund's voice interrupted their thoughts.
"Welcome to the battlefield of thirty thousand years hence. This is also my last stand—the Soul of Vengeance."