The sky unfolded like a massive water mirror, releasing a torrential downpour. Within it appeared the radiant weapons of knights from the past, present, and future—those who had never gathered on this land—only to fade away again with the mist.
"What a sorrowful Noble Phantasm... I really don't want to see it a second time."
Shiomi stared wistfully at the vanishing weapons and the once again fallen Heracles, murmuring to himself in a voice only he could hear. Anything more could wait—once this was over, he would take his time talking it through with Morgan.
Behind her and Sakura, golden light was forming over the lake that had eroded the Reality Marble.
He recognized the golden brilliance gradually taking shape in Archer's hand.
"Excalibur."
The Holy Sword forged in the Inner Sea of the Planet.
There was no better weapon to slay Heracles.
But before it was ready, they'd have to bring him down a few more times.
Shiomi scanned the area—there were still plenty of swords and blades embedded in the wilderness. Some of them could be used.
"Saber, your weapon can no longer kill Heracles," Shiomi said, casually drawing two swords. "Go find another."
Without waiting for Mordred's response, he charged forward.
Mordred let out a sharp laugh, put away her Noble Phantasm, and followed suit, grabbing a random weapon to engage Heracles once more.
She was genuinely surprised that a human Magus in this era could rival a Heroic Spirit. Speed, strength, defense, technique—he was flawless on all fronts.
Fighting alongside someone who favored direct, fast-paced combat felt invigorating. She even forgot that he was her Master's father—or the "husband" her mother once spoke of.
Berserker—Heracles—was like an indomitable giant, relentlessly clashing with the two of them. No one could tell who would give out first: the Berserker or their own stamina and Mana.
Crimson lightning clashed with an array of Rune spells, creating a dazzling spectacle.
If not for being within this Reality Marble filled with infinite weapons, such a battle would have been impossible.
They didn't need to worry about conserving weapons or guarding their backs.
There was only one goal: kill Heracles, over and over, with everything they had.
Watching him fall again and again, only to rise each time, made Mordred's blood boil. How many times were left didn't matter. Who collapsed first didn't matter.
The Holy Sword was nearly complete.
And as that thought crossed her mind, Mordred couldn't help but feel a flicker of distraction. Watching Archer prepare her father's sword filled her with complex, conflicting emotions.
"Thinking of using it yourself, Saber?"
After driving both swords into Heracles' chest as he knelt on the ground, Shiomi caught on to what Mordred was thinking and asked.
"Who'd want to use Father's sword—especially a fake one!" Saber shouted, though the words rang hollow.
"Is that so." Shiomi didn't press the point. With a wave of his hand, he said, "Then step back, unless you want to get caught in the blast."
The moment had come.
Archer gripped the projected Holy Sword with both hands, slowly stepped forward, and raised it high over his shoulder with all his strength.
"This is the radiance left behind by the kings of the past. Take this, Heracles! Excalibur!"
A fierce, pure light flooded the barren world of swords.
Even Mordred held her breath, memories of gazing upon that very light during the days of the Round Table flashing through her mind—along with the reasons she had risen in rebellion.
The glory of being a knight, which she had never truly abandoned.
And... her wish for this Holy Grail War.
Amid the surging golden light, Berserker let out a roar more intense than ever before.
Even if it was just a projection, a phantom, this power exerted pressure like nothing Heracles had ever faced.
Perhaps, instinctively, he understood—if he endured this one more time, there would be no more resurrection.
So, the moment his revival was complete and his limbs regained mobility, Heracles charged forward without hesitation, roaring as he barreled toward them.
"Don't even think about getting past me!"
Shiomi raised his short sword toward Heracles. The ground, bristling with blades, suddenly stirred with a violent gale, sweeping up countless swords to bombard the great hero in a storm of steel.
Unfazed, Heracles stood firm in the whirlwind, knocking away every weapon hurled his way.
But what followed was a deluge of blades that blotted out the sky.
Under Archer's command, countless swords rained down on Berserker with overwhelming force.
He swung his massive axe, body spinning, becoming a whirling fortress impenetrable by even that storm of steel. No weapon could breach this final defense.
Eleven times had he fallen—and now, Heracles stood at his limit. But it was also the moment when every ounce of his strength was pushed to its peak.
What awaited the great hero was Morgan's final strike.
"This is the end, great hero of Greece. Die with your glory intact. 'Roadless Camelot: The Now Unreachable Utopia'!"
The sky shimmered with auroras, streaked with pitch-black ripples. From those ripples, blue magic lances began to fall, one after another.
Blinding light, explosive winds—just standing became impossible.
The Reality Marble, "Unlimited Blade Works," dissolved into a field of blinding white.
...
When they opened their eyes again, they were back before the Einzbern castle. Heracles knelt within a great crater, atop the shattered ice.
Blood flowed freely, staining the colorless ice beneath him.
His massive body gradually shrank, reverting to half its berserk size. Its hue dulled to gray. He could no longer move.
"Just in case..."
As if responding to Shiomi's cautious final spell, the eyes of the berserker about to be entombed flickered once more.
He let out a roar and lunged across the icy ground, hand reaching toward the nearest figure—Shiomi.
But just a few centimeters from Shiomi's face, his hand halted, unable to move forward.
Living ice seemed to bloom and grow, binding Heracles tightly in place.
No longer possessing his former might, even with his Battle Continuation ability, Heracles' vast form was overtaken by the ice. It crumbled into blue particles and vanished—his presence gone from the Holy Grail War.
Shiomi let out a deep breath. The vast amount of Mana he and Morgan had spent left him weary, and his legs gave out beneath him.
"You did well, my husband."
This time, it was Morgan who caught him in her arms.
"You don't look tired at all," Shiomi said, steadying himself but making no move to break free.
"That's because the Mana you gave me took priority," Morgan replied, her eyes soft with a faint smile as her lips curled upward.
...
(100 Chapters Ahead)
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