Semiramis bit the tip of her delicate finger — a gesture that mixed anxiety with irritation. Her sharp, dagger-like eyes followed the figure of Achilles, who fought fiercely against Chiron, not sparing even a glance at Jeanne, who stood nearby, almost as if she had become invisible before the sheer intensity of that battle.
Unfortunately, with Atalanta captured by the enemy, Semiramis's options were becoming more and more limited. The cards that once seemed plentiful had now been reduced to only a few, and that sense of being cornered was something the Queen of Poison despised above all else.
She herself had once declared, in all her arrogance, that she would not strike until the enemy dared to approach the Hanging Gardens. Yet allowing them to come this close? That wounded her pride deeply.
"So, what shall we do?" she murmured, narrowing her eyes as she fixed her gaze on Jeanne's image, with the poisonous calm of a predator studying its prey.
At the very moment she raised her hand to fire upon the Ruler's projection, a sharp, metallic sound split the air — the alarm of the Hanging Gardens.
The mechanical melody reverberated through the fortress, and the sudden noise made her pupils contract like those of a serpent ready to strike.
Far from the main battlefield, two figures approached swiftly. Mounted on his Hippogriff, Astolfo advanced with a radiant smile, accompanied by Frankenstein. Together, they defied the skies, racing toward the colossal floating fortress.
"They're taking advantage of the distraction to break in?" Semiramis tilted her head slightly, her voice dripping with disdain. "How foolish."
But a flicker of unease flashed across her eyes.
"And that man...?" she muttered, scanning the horizon like a hawk that had lost sight of its most dangerous prey.
Gilgamesh. Always him. The man who was like a strange, unpredictable piece on the board — impossible to read, and even more impossible to ignore. Alongside him were Mordred and the captured Atalanta — two pieces that could not be underestimated.
No matter how she searched, Semiramis couldn't locate them.
"Tsk! Has he already infiltrated? No… if he had, I'd feel his presence immediately."
Despite the uncertainty, her decision was instantaneous.
"Even if I don't know where they are, eliminating the Black Knight and the Black Berserker is my top priority right now…"
With that thought, her fingers danced across the hidden controls of the Hanging Gardens, activating the fortress's defensive systems.
Astolfo, of course, remained unfazed.
"They found us? Hahaha! Perfect! That means I don't have to hide anymore!" he shouted, laughing with that familiar mix of madness and excitement that defined him.
The Hippogriff let out a shrill cry, as if affirming its rider's words, and beat its wings harder, soaring toward the fortress.
"Hahahahaha!! I am Astolfo, one of the Twelve Paladins of Charlemagne!!" his voice echoed through the skies, loud and clear — a declaration of war.
Everyone could feel his presence. He was no longer the knight often mocked as weak, but a hero charging fearlessly toward the impossible.
The defense systems immediately responded, unleashing waves of magical energy at the Hippogriff.
Semiramis smiled, cold and confident.
"You really think you can escape this, fool?"
Beams of magical light surged like lightning, ready to incinerate Astolfo and his mount. But in the next instant, something she hadn't foreseen occurred.
In the knight's hands appeared a book — a grimoire — which opened on its own, scattering luminous pages into the air. The sheets floated around Astolfo, forming a radiant shield.
The magical blasts struck the barrier and dissolved like smoke in the wind.
Semiramis frowned, her expression tense with surprise as she observed closely.
"Alright, now's the time!" Astolfo shouted. "My heart trembles in the moonless terror, but it shall never retreat!"
Then he raised the grimoire high.
"Casseur de Logistille!!"
The pages burst outward in every direction. The next barrage from the Hanging Gardens came at supersonic speed, but it was completely nullified by the magical barrier.
The Casseur de Logistille, the grimoire granted by Queen Logistille herself, contained the means to destroy all forms of sorcery. In Astolfo's hands, it granted him a passive ability to counter any magic of Rank A or lower. His natural resistance, normally Rank D, was elevated to Rank A. The knight once deemed weak now stood immune to all modern magecraft.
"Ahahahaha! Hold on tight, Fran! I need to pick up speed!"
"Ohh…" Frankenstein grunted in response, her eyes gleaming.
"Let's aim for that giant black tower! If we take it down, Ruler and the others will be able to get into the garden!"
"Grrr!" the Berserker growled, nodding firmly.
The Hippogriff surged forward at even greater speed, cutting through the wind, while Semiramis watched the scene unfold.
Her initial shock faded within seconds, replaced by an icy calm.
"So, he still had a secret weapon…"
Her fingers drummed rhythmically against the arm of her throne, as if trying to suppress the unease crawling under her skin.
"But no matter how powerful it is… it's only a defense against magic."
Her mind calculated coolly. Astolfo's legend contained no known barriers or shields. He wasn't like Achilles, whose very body was a divine defense. What Astolfo wielded was merely a fragment of borrowed power.
"A grimoire… A gift from Logistille, no doubt."
The defensive systems would be useless against him. Only one option remained — something Semiramis had been keeping in reserve.
A cold smile curved her lips.
"It seems it's time to use my trump card."
Through a telepathic command, she issued her order:
"Lancer. Someone is approaching. Eliminate them."
The response came calm, yet filled with overwhelming power:
"Understood."
The strongest warrior of the Red Faction entered the battlefield — Karna, the invincible hero of the Mahabharata.
(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."