"King of Knights, even if you possess an extraordinary Saint Graph and the strongest Saber class, I must still remind you—do not ignore your surroundings."
"Are you referring to my Master's safety?" Artoria's resolute gaze showed no wavering. "My instincts tell me that once our battle ends, he will be safe."
Satsuki nodded lightly. "In a sense, that really is a convenient ability. As expected of the King of Knights."
The waves crashed slowly against the shore. The girl in a kimono and the knightly swordswoman faced each other in silence, the atmosphere growing tense in an instant.
Then—magical energy erupted!
Both stomped forward at once. In a flash, the two Heroic Spirits of myth charged at each other at speeds sharp enough to cause a sonic boom.
The invisible sword and the black sword collided. The sheer wind pressure from the clash alone gouged several craters in the ground around them.
As the smoke cleared, the two locked eyes, not in the hatred of mortal enemies, but in mutual respect.
This was a long-awaited battle, a tribute to each other's journeys. Though they hailed from worlds apart, the instant they met, they understood—they were the same kind of being.
The King of Knights of Britain was clad in gleaming blue armor: medieval European plate on her arms and a blue skirt-armor upon her body. Yet the crown of stars upon her head and the blue cloak behind her did not fade. Like a lion's mane, like a red dragon's horns, they were symbols of kingship and glory—things no true ruler would relinquish.
Then came dazzling exchanges of slashes, thrusts, feints, and renewed charges…
Even though she had seen battles of this level before, the distant observer—Maiya Hisau—was still stunned by the brilliance of legend made reality.
The wind and air themselves were torn apart. A mere leak of magical energy sent waves surging dozens of meters high across the sea.
Even as a magus, Irisviel could only retreat farther and farther. Her instincts screamed that this was no battle mortals could intervene in. Not even as a magus, not even as the 'Little Grail,' could she do more than watch from afar.
Sword light clashed beneath the moon, roaring like waterfalls plunging from the heavens, mercilessly striking toward the other. The wind pressure alone split the earth.
Sparks leapt between their brows as blades collided, followed by surges of magical power that made the land itself tremble.
Saber's swordsmanship was laid bare before Satsuki—strength, technique, reaction, all not inferior in the slightest to that sun-like warrior Karna.
The invisible sword gave Saber subtle advantages in close combat, forcing Satsuki to restrain her attacks and never leave her guard open.
At the same time, the Knight King's instinctive predictions and sensitivity to shifts in power went beyond reason, making Satsuki's every strike constrained.
So this is the power worthy of the title "strongest class—Saber."
Satsuki sighed inwardly.
But as the battle grew fiercer, the knight—whose true name was Artoria—grew dissatisfied with Satsuki's fighting spirit.
Even as she swung her invisible blade with untraceable speed, she could clearly see the calm composure deep within her opponent's eyes. This Servant faced her sword with ease.
This was an opponent worthy of a king's respect—and it roused the swordswoman's will to win.
"Show me your true strength, mysterious Servant. This kind of play is beneath you."
Play? From afar, hearing Saber's words, Irisviel could not suppress her sense of powerlessness. A battle of this magnitude already surpassed what any magus could reach in a lifetime—yet to the two Heroic Spirits, it was nothing more than a warm-up.
"So this is what battles between Servants are like…"
Irisviel, faced with a world she had never imagined, could only stand frozen, watching intently.
The knight's words were not baseless.
The strength transmitted through her hands was clearly different from what she had seen before. This opponent was someone who could suppress Lancer in close combat completely, and as one of the Three Knights herself, it was natural that she could not gain the upper hand so easily.
Oh?
The girl in a black kimono seemed almost to merge with the night itself. Her dazzling golden eyes remained calm and indifferent—until she heard the knight's invitation. In that instant, something shifted within their still depths.
She swung her sword. The force was immense, the speed unparalleled, utterly unlike any of her previous strikes.
That single arc of black sword-light stirred in the King of Knights a sense of irresistible pressure. It felt as though the heavens and earth themselves pressed down upon her position. No change in posture, no shift in stance, no adjustment of force could fully counter it. For the first time in this battle, the King of Knights was forced back.
The aftershock of the black blade surged unstoppably toward the sea, carving a hundred-meter-long fissure into the water's surface. The lasting pressure of the sword divided the waves outward, like Moses parting the sea—a miracle displayed once more.
Yet what shocked the onlookers most was this: that strike was only Satsuki's prelude.
Immediately after, the entire beach began to tremble and roar under the pull of some overwhelming power. It was as though countless explosives had erupted beneath the sand. But both the King of Knights and Irisviel knew the truth. These were merely phenomena born of the Servant's magic surging to the surface.
"Irisviel, get away from here."
There was only time to warn her Master. Even after countless battles in Britain and the guidance of Merlin himself, never had the Knight King witnessed such scale of magical outpour. Her expression grew grave, her eyes never daring to leave her foe for even an instant.
"I truly don't know whether this is fortunate or unfortunate, King of Knights. Even without using these eyes, your sword has already been laid bare before me."
Satsuki's robes billowed under the torrent of mana. From the patterns upon them, a golden dragon stirred awake, its form manifesting as a phantom that merged into her black sword. The dark blade transformed into a radiant, resplendent longsword.
"And it seems I hold some advantage against one who bears the blood of dragons. Even so—will you still accept this challenge?"
Staring at the sword, Artoria's Instinct blared unceasing alarm. Her wariness rose to its utmost, for she clearly perceived that this weapon could pierce her armor with ease, a single strike enough to gravely wound her.
It was a blade of extraordinary power against dragonkind, a weapon whose affinity was fatally aligned against her.
Even Irisviel could not hide her worry. The words slipped from her lips: "Saber…"
Yet—
"Such a challenge is not enough to halt the steps of the King of Knights."
Artoria Pendragon, sovereign of Britain, bore herself with regal grace. Her resolute gaze did not waver in the slightest.
Magic rivaling that of dragons surged within her body. The winds themselves were torn apart by the invisible sword she gripped. Above her head, the crown of stars shone more brilliantly than ever.
"I accept this challenge. Only this is worthy of being called a battle between kings. And for that—by my sword, I swear victory."
The knight raised both hands high above her head. A torrent of energy burst outward from her blade, and at last, the invisible sword shattered its concealment. In a blaze of golden radiance, it revealed its true form.
It was a weapon forged from crystallized prayers within the planet itself, one of the ultimate god-forged armaments, the "strongest of phantasms."
—Excalibur, the Sword of Promised Victory.
"A fine sword."
Satsuki pressed down with her resplendent black dragon-slaying blade, the surge of sword pressure and mana setting the ground around them into a restless roar.
"If I'm not mistaken, you haven't drawn your strongest weapon yet, Servant of the Night."
Saber's eyes gleamed with unusual sharpness. "Your strength and your perception form a towering wall, preventing other Servants from discerning the truth—that swordsmanship is not your true forte."
The King of Knights lowered her golden sword in kind. It was the salute of two warriors who respected each other before true battle.
"As expected of the King of Knights of Britain—you see through me clearly. Is that your Instinct at work?"
"Not Instinct. It is because, while your swordplay is as direct as mine and backed by unreasonable strength, it always carries caution and restraint. That is the mark of one who does not fully trust in the sword."
As Satsuki walked slowly toward the Knight King, she spoke evenly: "Consider it a personal habit. I didn't expect such subtle shifts of force would be noticed by you."
In Saber's emerald eyes, golden light mingled with her commanding aura, like a radiant Valkyrie of gold. "Then will you not consider showing me your true ability?"
Even as they conversed, the two drew steadily closer, like twin storm-eyes converging.
The storm of mana flared violently as they neared, the oppressive atmosphere like a beast behind a curtain, preparing its first roar.
Even having retreated hundreds of meters, Irisviel still felt the crushing weight of Saber and the unknown Servant's standoff. She could only stare wide-eyed as legend transformed into myth before her.
Closer. Still closer.
At last, the two legendary Heroic Spirits stood only two meters apart. They raised their blades and struck them together in midair.
At that moment, Satsuki answered softly: "If necessary."
The swords locked—and both unleashed their power.
Sword pressure erupted outward, slicing through parasol frames at the shore before tearing them apart with raw magical fury.
A step forward—their figures crossed amid sparks and flashing blades.
A turn—their gazes clashed in the mirrored steel of each other's weapons.
Another charge—their close-quarters battle summoned a vortex of mana, exploding around them. A clash fit only for myth was reborn in reality.
The black blade and the golden divine armament contested fiercely, no longer probing but fully committed. Each strike now carried speed and force far beyond their earlier exchanges.
The two blades shone like stars racing across the sky, colliding in their brilliance.
To Irisviel, watching as Master, and to Maiya Hisau, watching as observer, this moment was intoxicating—the dance of swords between life and death.
"So this is your true strength, Saber?"
Amid battle, Satsuki's indifferent voice carried a faint taunt. After sidestepping Saber's direct attacks for the sixteenth time, she finally grew weary of the straightforward swordplay.
An overwhelming surge of power coursed through her arm, flowing into the black blade. She attempted to suppress the knight's two-handed sword with a single hand.
Such confidence—such audacity. Yet forced to block with both hands across her chest, the King of Knights felt a force from that black sword nearly impossible to resist.
"Truly… a way of fighting at odds with your appearance."
The thought flashed briefly through the battle-hardened knight's mind. In the same instant, her grip on the hilt shifted with flawless timing. She reversed her sword from normal grip to backhand, diverting the black blade aside. Following its downward arc, her golden sword slid free, then slashed upward in a counterattack.
Such technique was only possible because, at this range, the King's blade held the advantage. Her instinctive judgment of distance was honed into her very bones.
Saber's Instinct and combat experience told her clearly: that black blade would only graze down her chestplate, then sweep along her skirt armor to strike her left leg.
Her next move was a half-step back with her left leg, drawing power from the ground for an upward diagonal slash. Timed precisely, it would evade her foe's sword point. Even a dragon-slaying blade was useless without landing a strike. And with her counter cut—there would be nowhere for her enemy to escape!
Yet—
Clang~!
Metal rang sharply. A cyclone of sword pressure exploded from the clash of their blades, cracking the ground around them into a web of fissures.
Golden hair whipped in the gale as the King of Knights blinked rapidly in shock. What had she just seen?
The black blade, which should have been forced into the ground by sheer momentum, reappeared before her in an instant—blocking her near-certain strike!
Impossible.
She still had such unfathomable strength in reserve?
But Satsuki's calm eyes betrayed no ripple of emotion. This was not the first time she had displayed such abnormal, rule-breaking swordplay. When parrying Karna's assault, she had already used this technique.
No—calling it swordplay was too generous.
Satsuki knew it was not a skill tempered through endless training. This swordwork that defied all reason had a simple basis—she was no ordinary being.
The Tenseigan had long since granted her more than the mere power of destruction and creation. It gave her an understanding of space itself.
In her eyes, distances between points in space were utterly unlike how mortals perceived them.
She could not teleport freely across great distances in this world. But within her visible range, she could manipulate frames of time and phases of space in an instant. To her, such things were not difficult.
Rules existed to bind ordinary people. Just as human order was meant for humans alone.
She—was not bound by them.
Her wrist trembled. The shockwave of compressed air grazed the crown of stars upon the King's brow. A mysterious force struck Saber's wrists, the grip on her hilt numbed with pain.
A master of swordsmanship, Saber knew this was the precursor to her guard being broken. She had no choice but to retreat momentarily and gather strength once more.
It was the perfect chance to press the attack. Yet Satsuki merely stood her ground.
"That last strike—if you had attacked instead, I would already be gravely wounded. Why choose defense?"
The King of Britain sensed her opponent's mercy, and it displeased her.
But the other Servant only answered lightly: "If necessary, I will."
"Arrogant fool."
With stubborn resolve in her eyes, the King of Knights surged forward once more. She charged like a dragon, storms whipping from her passage, embodying the momentum of a sovereign who pressed ever onward.
Satsuki's lips curved faintly. Her stance was immovable, like granite beneath a waterfall.
She raised her black blade and casually blocked the piercing strike that surpassed imagination.
Before the sparks even faded, Satsuki twisted her wrist, redirecting the force. As Saber herself had said—her sword was direct and unyielding. Once her power was deflected, she could not shift between attack and defense as swiftly as Satsuki.
Thus, she could not stop Satsuki's following thrust.
Yet this strike too fell short—Saber's agility and extraordinary Instinct predicted the blade's path and speed. With perfect timing, she twisted aside, the black sword scraping only sparks along her waist armor.
Riding the momentum of the black sword's thrust, Saber spun midair. Her golden blade, freed by the redirection, swept along her body like a rotating saw, slashing toward Satsuki's side.
This time, Satsuki chose to yield.
With a kick, she leapt back, the two figures once more separating.
Two exchanges. Simple, direct. No excess probing, no wasted motion. Yet every instant had been a leap across the cliff's edge of life and death.
This was the battle of legends. A glimpse into myth.
Dancing upon the border of death, leaping upon the edge of despair, carrying no fear of mortality—only the unyielding will to fight.
"So that's it."
Saber's voice carried sudden realization. Only after meeting her foe's direct thrust had she discovered the shocking truth—
This Servant was learning her swordsmanship in the very midst of battle.
The technique of redirecting force, the footwork for building momentum—her opponent was already mirroring them flawlessly.
Yet Saber did not resist this. On the contrary, her fighting spirit flared even hotter.
Then the King of Knights began her own form of "teaching."
She released one hand from her grip.
She too wielded her sword with one hand! In the same instant, her feet struck the ground, and she leapt high into the air.
"An astonishing choice—"
Satsuki whispered inwardly.
In a blade-to-blade duel, this was absolutely taboo. In midair, one could not shift direction, had no footing to draw strength, and a failed strike left a fatal opening that was tantamount to handing one's life to the enemy.
But Heroic Spirits were not ordinary mortals. What mortals could never achieve, they performed as naturally as breathing.
Thus Saber showed Satsuki her truth: to battle as a Heroic Spirit meant one thing above all—cast aside common sense!
The golden sword raised high pointed straight at Satsuki's forehead. The sword pressure alone sent her black hair streaming outward. It was a strike full of flaws—and filled with murderous intent.
Satsuki only gazed upward at the soaring King of Knights. Then she too pushed off with both feet, leaping without hesitation to meet her.
In the instant their distance vanished, flashing blades clashed again midair, dazzling light bursting forth above…
As the two Servants fought savagely in the sky, streaks of lightning carved across the heavens.
The air was sharp, cold, and tense with dread.
Then—a thunderclap split the night, tearing through their battle.
"!?"
Both split apart midair, halting instantly.
At the same moment, Saber and Irisviel turned their eyes southeast—
There, a flying object streaked across the sky like a bolt of lightning, racing toward them, scattering blue sparks across the night as it came.
Irisviel gaped in shock, her mouth falling open.
"A chariot?"
Its form was that of an antique two-wheeled war chariot. But instead of horses, two mighty bulls, draped in resplendent red cloth, were harnessed at its front. Their hooves pounded the void itself, pulling the chariot across the heavens with a thundering roar.
With every strike of hoof and wheel against the empty sky, purple lightning flared, spiderweb tendrils splitting the air, shaking the atmosphere with deafening roars.
Boom~!
Like thunder crashing to earth, the magic-soaked war chariot slammed into the ground. The gale-force shockwave tore through the beach, whipping Satsuki's kimono and scattering her black hair wildly.
From atop the vehicle came a bold, booming voice:
"Cease this at once."