With that final strike, Siegfried was completely annihilated, his body and spirit dissipating into particles of light that vanished into the night wind. Not a trace remained of the hero who had carried within him the legend of the dragon slayer.
The noble knight had upheld his promise until the very last second, dueling Karna with all the honor he possessed. His sword, Balmung, had shone until the final moment, but Karna's spear—a sun destined to kill gods—could not be stopped.
Thus, the Black faction had lost its first Servant: Siegfried, the Black Saber.
Almost ironically, the first Servants to fall from each faction were representatives of the Saber class, the most traditional among warriors.
A little over 200 meters away, Arthur let out a brief whistle, clearly impressed by the magnitude of the destruction caused by Karna's Noble Phantasm. The impact still reverberated across the plains, leaving the ground marked by a scorching trail, as if the sun itself had collided with the earth.
Karna, still enveloped in slowly dissipating embers, turned his eyes toward the King in the distance.
"Why didn't you help him?" asked the Lancer, his voice firm but without accusation.
Arthur crossed his arms, his expression serene.
"Because that was his wish. Siegfried asked for a fight to the end. Interfering would have insulted his will… and his honor."
Karna closed his eyes for a moment, nodding.
"I understand… He was truly a worthy knight. He fought like few would."
Arthur raised an eyebrow, a slight, curious smile appearing on his lips.
"But tell me, Red Lancer… are you sure it was wise to use your most powerful card now? After all, you sacrificed your Kavacha and Kundala to unleash this ultimate attack. Without your invulnerable armor, you are… considerably more vulnerable."
For a moment, silence fell between the two, until a subtle smile formed on Karna's face.
"Do you really think so?"
Arthur blinked, intrigued. "What do you mean?"
At that moment, a voice echoed through Karna's mind, filled with authority.
"{With this Command Seal, I order you: restore your Kavacha and Kundala!}"
Golden light coursed through the Lancer's body, enveloping him like a radiant cocoon. Ethereal fragments of his armor reformed piece by piece until the Indian warrior was once again clad in the sun's indestructible gold.
Arthur broke into a wide smile, almost laughing.
"Oh~ So Command Seals can be used this way as well? I must admit, I never considered this application."
"Naturally," Karna replied with his usual calm.
"In the end, we Servants are merely manifestations of mana. Spirits formed from magical energy. As long as there is enough mana to sustain our form, any aspect of our legend can be restored. Even my armor."
Arthur slowly twirled a golden sword he had pulled from the Gate of Babylon, letting the metal gleam under the moonlight.
"Interesting… You've given me a good idea. But let's set philosophy aside for now."
His gaze sparkled in anticipation.
"Shall we dance?"
Karna gripped his spear firmly, his body still glowing with lingering embers.
"At your service."
In the next instant, they charged at each other, and the field shook under the impact of their clash.
---
"So that was their plan…" murmured Chiron, watching from a distance. The centaur sighed, resigned.
He knew well: in the face of Karna's Noble Phantasm, Siegfried would have had no chance. The only way to survive would have been to use a Command Seal to forcibly remove him from the battlefield.
But Gordes, in his arrogance and carelessness, had wasted his Command Seals on trivial orders. Now they were paying the price.
"Perhaps only Gilgamesh could withstand an attack of this magnitude… and even then, with difficulty," Chiron muttered to himself. "Everyone else, without exception, would have used their Seals to escape. But Siegfried… he didn't have that luxury. His loyalty was his doom."
Within the fortress of Milenia, the thunderous roar echoed. Darnic, having just regained his composure after the initial shock, smashed his wine cup against the wall, letting the liquid run like blood over the marble.
"Damn it! Cursed be it! This is all that useless Gordes' fault!" he roared, his furious voice reverberating through the fortress walls.
"I should have let Caules summon the Saber! At least he would have used his head!"
The other Masters exchanged silent glances. At that moment, they all understood a bitter lesson: Command Seals were not just a trump card—they were the thin line between survival and annihilation.
But before mourning Siegfried's fall could prolong, a new threat caught everyone's attention.
---
"It's not the current situation that worries me most…" murmured Chiron, frowning. "But… that thing."
He turned his eyes to the plains, where a grotesque colossus was rising.
Spartacus.
The Black Berserker, directly affected by both Atalanta's powerful Noble Phantasm and the devastation of Karna's attack, had completely succumbed to the power of his own distorted body. His cry of "rebellion" now manifested as pure monstrosity.
He kept growing and growing. His body swelled like a tumor of flesh and mana, becoming increasingly colossal and grotesque. Veins pulsed like rivers of fire beneath his torn skin, and his breath sounded like a guttural roar.
All the Servants present clearly perceived the danger. Spartacus possessed a self-destructive Noble Phantasm. And the more damage he took, the more mana he accumulated to unleash at the final moment.
Now, that moment was approaching.
Chiron clenched his fists.
"If he reaches the critical point, the explosion will have power comparable to an EX-rank Noble Phantasm. And at that size… nothing will remain of this plain."
His expression hardened.
"Not even the Fortress of Milenia will withstand it."
And so, as the Berserker's body reached increasingly monstrous proportions, everyone understood: Siegfried's death had been merely the prelude to what was yet to come in this war.
The true disaster was still to come.
---
(End of Chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."