While Kazuya and Cao Cao exchanged blows in another pocket dimension of [Dimension Lost], the streets of Kyoto where Ishtar and Ereshkigal stood were steeped in tension.
As soon as the fight began, Perseus and Marsilius advanced together.
There was a clear tactic, tested countless times in training and battles: Marsilius immobilized the target in his illusory barrier while Perseus finished with the lethal force of his Sacred Gear. The problem was, they didn't know who they were dealing with.
"Caput-Medusae! Mineralization Knight!" Perseus shouted, activating the Balance Breaker of his Sacred Gear [Aegis Mineralization].
The shield in his hand glowed with a ghostly green, the famous head of Medusa detaching from the surface. It grew to monstrous proportions, floating above Perseus like a vengeful deity. Its eyes opened, emitting beams of green light capable of instantly turning any living being to stone.
The legendary sword Harpe also transformed. The serpents carved into the blade came to life, slithering around the hilt and hissing menacingly. The weapon's aura became dark and demonic: a single slash from that blade could wound even immortals and petrify anyone.
Marsilius didn't lag behind. He raised his hands and murmured the activation of his space-time Sacred Gear.
"Paraselene Utopia!"
In an instant, the Kyoto scenery vanished like smoke. Ereshkigal now stood in a distorted world, with a crimson sky and a ground of black sand that shifted slightly, as if alive. Ethereal towers floated around, constantly changing positions. Marsilius' barrier was his strongest power: within it, he controlled space and time.
Ereshkigal looked around with an expressionless face. The [Kur Kigal Irkalla], her spear, gleamed with contained energy as she sighed.
She wasn't like her battle-crazed sister. So, she decided to end it quickly.
Perseus seized the distraction and charged like lightning. Harpe sliced through the air, aiming for Ereshkigal's neck, while Medusa's head fired a beam straight at her. Any other creature would have frozen in panic.
Ereshkigal didn't move.
When Perseus' blade was a hair's breadth away, her spear intercepted the strike with a metallic clang. The clash of forces cracked the ground of the illusory world, sending sparks of magical energy in all directions. The petrification beam hit her full in the face—and nothing happened.
"What…?!" Perseus widened his eyes, instinctively retreating.
Marsilius narrowed his eyes, activating a time distortion to slow Ereshkigal. The barriers of Paraselene Utopia rose around her, invisible walls crushing space, trying to trap her like an insect in amber.
Nothing worked.
Ereshkigal simply stepped forward, passing through the illusory walls as if they were smoke. The Divine Core of the Goddess completely repelled any mental or physical interference on her body.
Marsilius felt a chilling shiver.
"That's impossible…!"
The [Kur Kigal Irkalla] shone with a deep golden light as Ereshkigal raised it above her head. The air around crackled, compressed by divine power. With a vertical strike, she completely destroyed the Paraselene Utopia barrier.
The illusory world collapsed in a flash. Everything returned to Kyoto in less than a second. Marsilius staggered, feeling a sharp pain in his head from the backlash of his Sacred Gear being forcibly shattered.
"You… how did you do that…?" he murmured, incredulous.
Ereshkigal looked at him, a cold smile forming on her lips.
"I don't need to explain anything to mortals."
She vanished from their field of vision. Perseus only saw a golden blur before feeling the spear pierce his guard and strike his shoulder, nearly tearing his arm off. He screamed in pain, falling to his knees.
"Perseus!..." Marsilius tried to intervene, but Ereshkigal was already behind him.
A strike with the spear's shaft hit his abdomen, sending him flying back like a rag doll. He crashed through a wall and fell among the rubble, coughing blood.
"This… this can't be happening…" Perseus panted, blood dripping onto the ground. He raised Harpe, but his hands trembled.
Ereshkigal spun her spear, wiping the blood from its tip.
She advanced again. Perseus tried to block with his shield, but [Kur Kigal Irkalla] pierced the metal like butter, completely destroying the protection. The spear's blade passed inches from his neck, slicing the air with a deadly hiss.
Perseus leaped back, dodging by reflex, but Ereshkigal was already on him. A precise kick to his chest sent him sprawling. He tried to rise, but the spear stabbed into the ground beside his head, pinning him in place.
Marsilius reappeared behind her, manipulating space to catch the goddess off guard. But Ereshkigal simply spun her spear, repelling the distortion before it could form.
With a thrust, Ereshkigal closed the distance between them and struck Marsilius with the spear's shaft, breaking several ribs. He screamed, spitting blood.
Perseus attempted one last attack. He charged with Harpe, aiming for Ereshkigal's heart, the blade's serpents coiling in the air as if alive. But the goddess dodged with minimal movement. Her spear pierced his guard and stabbed his side, bringing him to his knees, drained of strength.
"N… no…" he murmured, his vision darkening.
Ereshkigal withdrew her spear with a sharp motion and pushed him aside. Perseus collapsed with a thud, breathing heavily. Marsilius lay beside him, groaning in pain.
"We… can still fight…" Perseus murmured, gripping Harpe tightly despite his blurred vision.
Marsilius, with trembling fingers, opened one of the pouches at his waist and pulled out two small golden vials—Phoenix Tears. Without hesitation, he drank one in a single gulp, the warm liquid coursing through his body and instantly closing his wounds. He tossed the other vial to Perseus.
"Drink, now!"
Perseus obeyed without question, the restorative liquid healing cuts, broken ribs, and even the deep shoulder wound. In seconds, both were on their feet, breathing deeply, as if the battle had just begun.
Ereshkigal watched them calmly, resting [Kur Kigal Irkalla] on her shoulder.
"You really insist on dragging this out?"
Perseus didn't respond. He roared and charged with full force, Harpe glowing with its demonic aura. The blade's living serpents stretched to bite the goddess, while Medusa's head, floating above him, fired petrification beams from all angles.
At the same time, Marsilius reactivated his Sacred Gear, distorting the space around the goddess. [Paraselene Utopia] forced invisible barriers to close around Ereshkigal. He aimed to restrict her movements, even for a few seconds, to give Perseus a chance to pierce her heart.
But the goddess merely sighed, her eyes glowing with near-divine intensity.
Ereshkigal spun her spear, deflecting Harpe at the last moment, and stepped forward, evading the petrification beam as if she'd predicted it. Marsilius' illusory barrier closed, but the divine pressure shattered it before it could touch her.
"Enough."
[Kur Kigal Irkalla] blazed brightly as she raised it above her head, magical energy condensing around the spear's tip, growing with mana. The air vibrated, heavy, as if the underworld itself had been summoned.
Her chant echoed with a force that froze Perseus and Marsilius for a moment.
"A sky without light… A surface without reflection… Mud without blooming flowers! There is nothing here! I don't even understand what the souls are saying! Even so, I… will create! A land of the dead that will not shy away from any other world! That is my choice! Nammu Abzu Gugalanna!"
The world seemed to fall silent as Ereshkigal drove her spear into the ground.
An overwhelming wave of energy erupted from the point of impact, a red flash that engulfed everything around.
Half of the illusory Kyoto vanished in an instant. Entire buildings were pulverized, the ground torn into a deep abyss, and the shockwave hurled debris kilometers away. The air burned, heavy as a tombstone on their shoulders.
Perseus had no time to react. The attack hit him full-on, destroying his shield, Harpe, and his entire body in a single fraction of a second. He was obliterated along with Medusa's head, his shocked expression frozen in his final moment.
Marsilius tried to use his Sacred Gear to escape, but the explosion engulfed him before he could open a passage. His body vanished in the flash, dissolving like dust.
When the light faded, silence blanketed the area.
The city lay in ruins. Half of Kyoto had become a massive, smoking crater…
The goddess kept her spear embedded in the ground for a few seconds before withdrawing it and walking calmly through the rubble. She glanced aside and saw Ishtar fighting that man.
A few blocks away, Ishtar traded blows with Siegfried amid cracked avenues and shattered facades.
Siegfried activated his Balance Breaker upon seeing his friends die!
[Asura Ravage of the Chaos Edge!]
Four metallic Dragon Arms erupted from his back, articulated like perfect limbs, each pair emerging with a sudden surge in aura. His power climbed in tiers, like the old Twice Critical taken to the extreme. With them, he wielded a Six-Sword Style: in his human hands, Gram and Balmung; in the draconic arms, Nothung, Tyrfing, and Dáinsleif, the sixth blade of light alternating between limbs as openings appeared.
Gram, the Demonic Emperor Sword, vibrated with dragon-slaying properties; Balmung spun with a drill-like aura, raising whirlwinds; Nothung shattered the air in a perfect straight line; Tyrfing ran heavy, destructive; Dáinsleif slashed the asphalt, raising ice pillars like spears.
Ishtar greeted him with a sly smile. A snap of her fingers. A golden beam shot from her index finger, slicing diagonally, forcing Siegfried to cross Gram and Nothung to parry. The impact pushed him back two steps; Balmung reacted with a spin, raising a whirlwind that tried to engulf the goddess.
She floated an inch off the ground, dodging with the ease of a mood shift. Another gesture—her hand traced a semicircle, and gold rained down. Light darts fell in series, ricocheting off the blades and exploding on the ice pillars raised by Dáinsleif. Siegfried charged through the bombardment, draconic bracers defending. Tyrfing's edge swept like a guillotine.
Ishtar tilted her face a centimeter. The blade missed. She countered with a short, clean jab to his jaw, making the knight's aura flicker. A second beam, from her middle finger, ricocheted off Gram and aimed for his flank: Siegfried crossed Nothung downward, dispersing the strike with sparks.
He spun, six blades drawing a circle; Balmung roared, the vortex pulling debris, crushed cars, dust. Ishtar raised an open palm, and the vortex stalled, trapped like a tide under a full moon. She pointed, and the whirlwind turned projectile against its master. Siegfried sliced it in half with Gram and "pierced" the rest with Balmung, advancing through the flash. He closed in, draconic arms synchronized, six deadly angles.
Ishtar dipped her shoulder, slipped into his guard, and the sequence became a lesson in efficient cruelty: knee to the plexus, elbow to the temple, open hand to Tyrfing's hilt (it dropped), spinning kick to the rear arms (joints jammed), and, finally, a backfist that sent him crashing through a building's side.
Siegfried emerged from the dust, blood on his lip, but his eyes burned with feverish gleam. Asura Ravage pulsed another tier of power. He gripped the six blades again, Dáinsleif scraping the asphalt, raising an ice forest to block paths; Nothung carved a line of advance; Tyrfing fell heavily to open the defense; Gram aimed straight for the neck; Balmung spun overhead to crush.
Ishtar moved through the lines like avoiding puddles. Golden beams shot from her fingers in rhythm, sometimes thin as needles, sometimes in short bursts, bending corners and piercing shadows. Each touch on the ice shattered it into clouds of light. Her left hand traced an ideogram in the air; from the sky, a fan of shots rained down, forcing Siegfried to defend with two draconic arms while attacking with the others.
"Stubborn…" she murmured, more amused than annoyed.
He roared and pushed; Gram unleashed raw aura, pulling its own shadow, and Balmung anchored the spin: the space between them became a drill of wind and blade. The strike would've caught anyone.
Ishtar simply wasn't there at the moment of impact. She reappeared a step to the side, touched two fingers to Siegfried's sternum, and unleashed a snap that ignited the air. The knight flew, skidding across the ground. The six swords rose together in instinctive guard. The draconic arms trembled.
She noticed Ereshkigal approaching in the distance, her spear still smoking. A light sigh. Time to end it.
Ishtar noticed Ereshkigal approaching in the distance, her spear still smoking. A light sigh. Time to end it.
"Maanna…"
The Celestial Boat Maanna tore through the sky as if ripping an invisible sheet.
Ishtar hovered beside it. At her touch, its veins glowed incandescent; reading rings aligned around the hull, forming a mana collider: energy compressed into pulses, guided by a plasma channel created by the air's own ionization.
Siegfried charged one last time, six blades zigzagging. Dáinsleif raised ice pillars, Nothung blocked the route, Tyrfing and Gram crossed high and low, Balmung spun to crush the shot at its birth.
Ishtar raised her hand. A snap. The golden rain resumed, massive, toppling pillars and stalling the spin. She pulled the "light cord": Maanna's prow contracted the space ahead like a bellows, and the projectile formed—a high-density photonic dart, coated in a field envelope that decoupled dynamic air pressure. In layman's terms, a magical attack shaped like an arrow!
"Fall…"
The shot fired soundlessly; the surrounding air fell silent for a moment as the beam swept away molecules in its path, leaving a vacuum trail. At the trail's edge, ionized air turned to plasma, glowing with a white-blue halo; recombination in microseconds released a cold light, like crackling stars. The beam's front created such an abrupt pressure gradient that distant buildings collapsed before impact, as if an invisible fist had crushed them from outside in.
Siegfried crossed Gram and Tyrfing, anchored Balmung, braced all four draconic arms. The defense held for milliseconds. Maanna's projectile strained and broke matter's bonds: first came thermal radiation that vitrified the asphalt; then, twin shockwaves—one at the beam's entry, another as the vacuum closed behind—swept the avenue; finally, the electromagnetic pulse gathered every metallic spark like dust. At the center, the knight was swallowed by the light and vanished.
The other half of Kyoto didn't explode—it was erased. Entire blocks became smooth, black, glassy. The edges showed fusion fringes; where the beam lingered, glassy stalactites formed, the result of brief molten material flow under apparent low gravity in the vacuum tube. The atmosphere, closing the corridor, delivered the delayed sound in a single boom that cracked like dry thunder.
Ishtar descended from the boat's side with a short hop, and the celestial vessel vanished.
The battle ended with no suspense in her and her puritan sister's obvious victory!
… ...
While the warm wind ceased, Jeanne was already in a combat stance. The valley's edges seemed to writhe around her, but her focus was fixed on Shuten Douji.
"Blade Blacksmith!" Jeanne murmured, her voice steady.
In a snap, the ground around her lit up with veins of golden light. Trails of liquid metal sprouted from the earth, rising and blooming into petals of sacred blades. Jeanne gripped the flag-cross's handle, and the blades converged in her hand, fusing into a gleaming silver rapier.
Her Sacred Gear, [Blade Blacksmith], could create an arsenal of countless Holy Swords with varied attributes and abilities.
Shuten Douji tilted her head, her sadistic smile reappearing.
"Hm? A single blade? How… elegant." The oni took a step forward, an alcoholic gleam in her eyes.
Jeanne advanced, striking diagonally, the rapier's edge hissing like a snake. Shuten Douji dodged with a graceful spin, her kimono's fabric swirling, and responded with a sigh:
"Sip~…"
She activated her ability, [Alcoholic Fruit], which could intoxicate targets. Her oni drinking habits granted her an A-rank in this skill. As a result, a sigh, her tone, or her gaze could inebriate others, melting the thoughts of those without magical defenses instantly. Even against Servants, her draconic nature could enchant and intoxicate enemies without countermeasures, potentially driving them to madness.
Her simple words sounded like intoxicating notes. Jeanne felt her mind ripple, the world pulsing, colors growing vivid. Each of Shuten's syllables was a sip of sake that burned through rational defenses.
"…What…?" Jeanne faltered, the rapier slipping from her hand in a flash of vertigo.
Shuten Douji raised her arm as if inviting a dance.
"Taste a bit of my pleasure," the oni murmured.
Jeanne tried to resist, but the weight of the alcoholic venom clashed with her faith's balance. The rapier fell. Her gaze wavered, and Shuten advanced like a shadow:
In a feline move, the oni wrapped her bare arm around Jeanne and delivered a brutal punch to her flank. The flesh gave way with a wet snap—this wasn't an ordinary wound. When Jeanne tried to scream, Shuten brought her to her knees and, with nimble fingers, tore out part of her liver through the fresh gash. Warm blood flowed, and the pain pushed Jeanne to the brink of collapse.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!"
"Hihihi~… Delicious human essence." Shuten Douji drank the scarlet liquid as if it were sake.
Jeanne groaned, her body aching, her mind clouded by intoxication. But something in her sacred soul still burned. She raised her bloodied hand and fired at the oni:
"Balance Breaker — The Staked Victim Dragon!"
Holy swords bloomed around Jeanne, merging into a colossal dragon. Each scale was a living blade: head, wings, and tail formed from daggers, knives, and glittering ice drills. The Holy Dragon of Judgment roared, its blade-jaws open in fury.
Shuten Douji raised what remained of her sake gourd and eyed the metal monster with curiosity.
"What a lovely toy… but I must give voice to my thirst." The oni closed her eyes and, in an instant, zigzagged into Jeanne's dragon.
The beast snapped its jaws, but Shuten delivered a monstrous punch to the blade-jaw. The force shattered the metal joints; scales flew in sparks. In a final surge, she smashed the dragon's head into the ground, reducing the creature to fragments of light. Jeanne fell back, her heart racing too fast.
Jeanne rolled to the side, her body weak. The rapier lay far off, buried in the parched earth.
The oni slowly raised an ornate blood cup, her delicate fingers cradling it like a sacred artifact. Her half-closed eyes gleamed in a hypnotic purple, and a lazy but cruelly delighted smile curved her lips.
"An exquisite feast… are you ready? Go ahead and die now…"
Her voice was melodic, almost a seductive invitation to the end. She tilted the cup, spilling some sake onto the ground. A wave of green venom exploded like spilled water, spreading in all directions with a life of its own.
"Multitude of Colors – Providential Oni Poison."
With this, she activated her primary Noble Phantasm, the same poisoned sake used to weaken and kill her in life. Now, as a Heroic Spirit, that poisoned sake had sublimated into her very existence. The sake's sole purpose was to pollute the environment with venom at once. By manipulating its concentration, she could inflict all manner of status ailments.
…At its highest concentration, it decomposed all living bodies, leaving only a few bones behind. It's said the gourd for the sake, carried in a pouch, is a cage to lock her spoils, fascinating Shuten-douji, and also a weapon that can transform into a sword, held in the gourd's mouth.
The poisonous mist spread across the field in an instant, tainting the air with dark hues. Trees, rocks, and the earth itself seemed to wither under the venom's presence. The space around Shuten Douji became cloaked in an oppressive aura, as if the world were being devoured by an invisible entity.
She brought the gourd to her lips and took a small, elegant sip, as if merely tasting wine at a banquet, utterly ignoring the despair of those before her. Her eyes gleamed with delight as the mist expanded, covering everything around.
Jeanne felt the venom consume everything. Her vision blurred, and her strength faded by the second. The last thing she saw was Shuten Douji's serene silhouette approaching.
Then her body collapsed, slowly dissolving until only fragile bones remained.
Shuten stopped beside the remains, leaned slightly, and stored her sake cup with a slow gesture.
"Thank you for the feast… human."
She rose again and, with her usual tranquility, walked out of the valley. The poisonous mist dissipated slowly, leaving behind a dead field, as if all life had been drained from the place.
Her smile widened as she thought of her next destination.
"Done, Anata~… now I can return to you."
… ...
Her aura exploded.
The cobblestones groaned. The mist parted in a circle around her, as if the air itself had recoiled. Artoria Lancer took a step. That was all.
"Rhongomyniad."
Her lance materialized in her hand. Its body was slender and elegant, with a silver shaft adorned with delicate spiral engravings, reminiscent of ancient runes and geometric patterns interwoven like the foundation of a great tower. Near the blade, several interlocked metallic rings protruded outward, spinning lightly around the weapon's core. These rings seemed like seals containing the lance's true power, emitting a pulsing blue glow like a living heart. The blade was long, sharp, and pure as crystal. Of an intense bluish-white, it seemed made of solid light, radiating energy that distorted the surrounding air.
Arthur drew his sword, the sound of metal cutting the silence like a breath held too long.
"Le Fay…"
"I know."
Le Fay raised her hand, and a magic circle appeared.
Flames shaped like serpents cut through the mist, advancing toward Artoria Lancer. The woman, however, merely spun her lance. The motion created a barrier of pure wind that dispersed the fire as if it were a mere breeze.
Another magic circle appeared.
Water columns surged from the ground, trying to bind Artoria Lancer's feet. She didn't move; the water evaporated before touching her, disintegrated by the magical pressure emanating from her body.
Le Fay bit her lip, quickly mounting her broom that appeared in her hand. The young witch shot into the sky, unleashing a rain of ice spears from all directions.
The icy blades embedded in the ground around the Lancer, raising a cloud of debris. But when the dust settled, Artoria Lancer stood exactly where she was, without a single scratch.
"Lightning Strike!" Le Fay pointed from above, unleashing a colossal bolt. The sky itself seemed cleaved by the electric discharge. Artoria Lancer looked up, impassive, and simply spun her lance. The energy dispersed in a silent explosion, as if it had never existed.
The young witch flew in rapid circles, using her broom to keep distance, firing spells of wind, flames, and stones like magical artillery. But nothing… absolutely nothing… touched her.
Arthur seized the opportunity created by his sister and attacked with his sword. Artoria Lancer tilted her face and parried casually, pushing the boy back. She then vanished.
It wasn't teleportation. It was speed. The lance's tip touched the air right in front of Arthur's nose before his eyes could fully track it. He crossed his blade by reflex. Klang. The street vibrated. An arc of sparks cut through the mist and sliced a stone facade twenty meters away, leaving a diagonal scar.
Arthur staggered back two steps.
Suddenly, the ground gave way. A black circle, edgeless, opened beneath Artoria Lancer's feet like a hungry void.
"Pitfall trap…?" Arthur's eyes widened.
"Not mine…" Le Fay replied, equally shocked: "That's—"
A shadow with a fan appeared in the alley, as if birthed by the mist.
"Zhuge Liang, at your service…" the woman said, fanning herself with weary calm: "Sorry for the delay…"
The plan was to use her Sacred Gear with Georg to support all their allies, but they shifted tactics to target the strongest of Ryougi Kazuya's subordinates.
Artoria Lancer wasn't fazed by the arrival of another. She stepped forward. A hole opened. Her heel touched the edge, her weight shifted forward. A wrist flick. The shaft grazed the void, didn't fall, and used the hole's edge as a step, propelling her upward, light, her cape cutting the mist like a wing. The lance's tip descended straight for Arthur's forehead.
"Ex—!"
"Arthur!" Le Fay raised an ice wall.
The lance touched, and the ice turned to mist.
Arthur's blade rose at the last instant. The clash pushed both back, each on their axis. Artoria Lancer's strength, however, was like a tide against rock: constant, inevitable.
The mist grew… denser, purpler.
"Die!" Georg declared, appearing from nowhere and condensing the purple mist into a transparent wall around Artoria Lancer, who merely moved her lance.
The lance made a thin sound, the kind skin feels before ears hear. It touched the invisible wall. Concentric waves rippled through the mist, revealing for a second the mesh of seals, anchors, and suture lines holding the "room."
She tightened her grip.
The tip advanced. Not a full strike. A "touch." But where it touched, the spatial fabric hissed, recoiling like red-hot iron on snow. Georg gritted his teeth.
He defended. And still, he could barely fight.
"Now." Zhuge Liang snapped her fan against her wrist, and the "holes" that appeared shifted, opening before her step, above her shoulder, in escape routes, in unpredictable lines. A tunnel of nothingness closed around the lance.
Le Fay chanted, words spilling fast, unthinking, her body recalling training sequences: rune prison, light shackles, seven layers of seals, reversal, counterpressure, ice, wind, lightning, gravity, silence.
Everything touched Artoria Lancer.
But her magical resistance, though B-rank, was enough to fend off all attacks. Those from Sacred Gears? Her magical energy didn't let them touch her.
Arthur advanced.
His sequence of strikes was unflashy. Clean cuts, seamless transitions. The "king's style" in practical, distilled form. He didn't try to overpower. He sought the lance's dead time. The hip before the fist, the heel before the step.
Artoria Lancer saw it all.
And, out of courtesy, responded with the minimum.
Each of her thrusts was a straight line demanding three responses. Each parry, a deflection placing Arthur where she wanted, in the perfect angle for the next push. Occasionally, the lance struck his blade with its shaft, and that simple "touch" made Arthur's grip vibrate to his elbow.
Le Fay fired an immobilization street at Artoria's legs. Light rings closed like shackles.
They shattered before fully closing.
Zhuge Liang snapped her fan.
All holes opened at once.
The ground lost its sense of "down." The street became a window to nothingness. The walls too. The mist's ceiling too. It was as if the city had been pierced by millions of invisible needles and was now draining in all directions. Each trap was linked, so anyone falling would keep teleporting through them.
Georg clenched his fist, and the mist folded into mirrors. The "room" grew thick, layer upon layer, redoubling its folds.
Artoria Lancer breathed.
The air's pressure became crushing. Every spatial fold Georg and Zhuge Liang had created began to tremble, as if about to collapse on its own. But no… it was her.
Artoria Lancer merely tilted her head slightly, her green eyes like her lance's blade.
"…Futile."
She raised Rhongomyniad with one hand. No preparation, no warning. Just a fluid spin that made the lance's rings whirl with absurd force, unleashing a flare of pure magic.
[Mana Burst].
The wave that followed wasn't an attack. It was a verdict.
Georg's barriers? Disintegrated the moment the magical pressure touched space. The mage barely had time to widen his eyes. The blue beam pierced his body and reduced him to dust in utter silence, as if he'd never existed.
"Ge—!" Zhuge Liang retreated, trying to open dimensional holes to escape. Her Sacred Gear moved dozens of portals in random lines, but the lance was already upon her.
Rhongomyniad's "touch" wasn't even a cut. The tip merely grazed her chest. The strategist's body was torn apart by the pure energy surging from the weapon, and in the next instant, she was obliterated in a blue flash, leaving only luminous particles.
The city fared no better.
Artoria Lancer's strike, amplified by Mana Burst, pierced layers of reality, erasing entire blocks. The ground ceased to exist, reduced to a sea of blue light. Surrounding buildings unraveled layer by layer until they were nothing. The explosion's roar stretched for kilometers, echoing like a world's end.
Amid the cataclysm, Arthur was the only one who reacted.
"…Caliburn!"
The young man poured all his sacred energy into the blade. The golden sword answered, slicing the space ahead like a curtain. The glow opened a narrow rift in the void, and Arthur dove through it at the last moment, carrying his sister who flew toward him by reflex. Both felt the flash engulf everything around.
When they reappeared, Arthur was on his knees in a distant part of the city. Sweat dripped from his forehead, his breathing ragged. Behind him, Kyoto no longer existed. A blue void stretched where avenues and buildings once stood.
And at the void's center, her.
Artoria Lancer stood motionless, Rhongomyniad planted in the ground like a flag over a battlefield.
Arthur gripped Caliburn's hilt, but didn't dare advance.
"She… erased everything… with a single attack…" Le Fay murmured beside him, her throat dry.
The Lancer slowly raised her head, her cold eyes meeting Arthur's.
"…You cut space to escape. An interesting choice."
Her mere voice made him shudder.
Artoria Lancer took a step toward him.
"But it won't help next time."
Arthur swallowed hard and raised Caliburn before him. His hands shook, but his stance was firm. He knew he wouldn't win, but flee? There was nowhere to go.
Artoria Lancer approached slowly, each step resounding like a gong tolling fate.
"…It's over."
The warning was simple. And in the next instant, she vanished from his sight.
"…!"
Arthur only had time to feel the air tear beside his ear. A strike with Rhongomyniad's base hit his stomach. The pain was overwhelming, magical energy reverberating through his body and stealing his breath. His eyes rolled back as he was hurled backward, crashing into the ruined asphalt. Caliburn slipped from his fingers, embedding in the ground.
He tried to rise, but his vision was already fading. The last thing he saw was Artoria Lancer's golden silhouette moving toward Le Fay.
"N-no… don't… touch her…"
The witch barely had time to raise a defensive magic circle. Artoria Lancer appeared before her, the lance spinning in a perfect arc.
Rhongomyniad's shaft struck Le Fay's abdomen laterally. The impact shattered the magic circle like glass, and the girl was thrown to the ground beside her brother.
Arthur reached out a trembling hand to touch her, but consciousness was already slipping away.
Artoria Lancer rested her lance's tip on the ground, observing the two unconscious figures. There was no satisfaction in her eyes, only indifference.
"You may still be useful."
She spun Rhongomyniad, and a golden magic circle appeared beneath Arthur and Le Fay. The energy enveloped their unconscious bodies, preventing any chance of escape.
________________
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