In Uruk, now turned into a battlefield, the Laḫmu—who had been locked in desperate combat with humans and countless monsters, all while letting out their revolting laughter—suddenly froze mid-motion.
"How…!?"
"Impossible…!"
"Mother!"
So they cried in disbelief. And then, before everyone's eyes, the Laḫmu burst apart like overripe watermelons, scattering into ash and vanishing.
"What… What's happening?"
"No idea…"
The humans and monsters who had been fighting to the death against the Laḫmu stared blankly, their faces moments ago filled with grim determination and fighting spirit, now utterly stunned.
Only the Servants, watching this scene, ceased their battles and each seemed to realize something.
"Did it work?"
"Was it successful?"
"It must have worked, right?"
Bloodied from head to toe, Artoria [Alter], Jeanne [Alter], Hassan of Serenity, Ishtar, Quetzalcoatl, and Jaguar Man panted heavily as they looked toward the outskirts of Uruk, as if hoping to glimpse the colossal beastly shadow.
But now, naturally, there was nothing more to see.
"Senpai…"
Mash, also gasping for breath, looked in the same direction, her expression uneasy.
As for Nobunaga and Ryougi Shiki, their battles too had come to a halt.
"H-How… could this be…"
Okita, covered in wounds, clutched her blade, eyes wide, seemingly intent on continuing the fight to the death—but she could not. With unwillingness and resentment heavy on her face, she scattered into ash and vanished.
"Haha… guess I managed to keep my life…"
Nobunaga knelt on one knee, her injuries unimaginably severe, her entire body drenched in blood. Watching Okita fade into dust, she gave a wry smile.
In truth, throughout the battle with Okita, Nobunaga had been at a disadvantage.
After all, Okita was a Heroic Spirit from the modern era—lacking mystery, and without the skills of Riding or Divinity. For Nobunaga, whose abilities specialized in countering ancient mysteries and cavalry, Okita was practically the worst possible matchup. The outcome was inevitable.
Fortunately, Okita's blackened state gave her characteristics of Tiamat, the Creator Goddess, which offered Nobunaga a sliver of resistance. Otherwise, Nobunaga may well have perished at Okita's hand.
"I knew it… the one who always smiled harmlessly was the most dangerous, you bastard, Okita."
Nobunaga whispered, her voice tinged with reluctant remembrance.
On the other side, things had gone very differently.
"Looks like you were destined to lose."
Ryougi Shiki, panting, pointed her dagger forward as she declared.
"Damn it… damn it, damn it, damn it…!"
Ushiwakamaru still held her broken blade. Her body was riddled with incurable wounds, one arm and half her face lost. Finally, with extreme hatred and resentment, she too dissolved into ash.
Having no defenses against Ryougi Shiki's Mystic Eye of Death Perception, Ushiwakamaru had been grievously wounded from the start.
The result was inevitable—she had been crushed almost one-sidedly, enduring until this moment only to scatter.
Thus, two Servants—summoned by Gilgamesh half a year ago to protect Uruk—had finally exited the stage.
The surrounding people could only watch in silence. Whatever they felt in their hearts, only they themselves knew.
All throughout Uruk, every monster born from Tiamat's black mud was turning to ash and vanishing, signaling the end of the deadly struggle.
"Did we win…?"
"Is it over…?"
"Did we… really win…?"
The surviving soldiers of Uruk stared blankly, too stunned to know how to react.
At that moment, a voice rang out from the top of the ziggurat.
"Silence!"
With those words, the king appeared at the summit of the tower.
"King Gilgamesh!"
"The King!"
Like finding their anchor, the people turned toward him.
They saw Gilgamesh covered in wounds, his body marked everywhere with cuts. One of his eyes was closed, pierced as if by a blade, blood streaming down his face to dye half of it crimson.
At his feet, however, lay another figure.
"Mother… impossible…"
Kingu lay there, struggling on the ground, trying to rise but failing.
A closer look revealed that Kingu's state was even worse than Gilgamesh's. Though he bore fewer wounds, his whole body looked charred and scorched, his abdomen pierced through and bleeding profusely.
Clearly, Gilgamesh had triumphed over Kingu.
"Once you gave the Holy Grail to Tiamat, your performance dropped to ordinary levels. Whereas I, though sealing away most of my Noble Phantasms and fighting only as a Magus, still held Uruk's Holy Grail. On top of that, I am more familiar with the capabilities of that body than anyone. Your loss was inevitable, doll of Tiamat."
Gilgamesh cast a glance at Kingu as he spoke.
Before the battle began, Rozen had returned the borrowed Holy Grail to him.
And so, Gilgamesh was able to defeat Kingu, who had given his Holy Grail to Tiamat.
Unlike Tiamat's other children, Kingu did not dissolve into ash.
Because Kingu had not been created directly by Tiamat's Sea of Life, but instead crafted using Enkidu's remains as material—essentially a second Enkidu—even if the other children perished, Kingu remained.
"All the others have turned to dust," Gilgamesh remarked with a smirk as he gazed into the distance.
"Looks like that guy succeeded."
The words had barely fallen when, from far beyond Uruk, a figure approached.
That figure shone like a sun that banished the night.
That figure blazed like a meteor cleaving the sky.
The man no longer wore his black feathered coat. As though the deed were done, his movements carried the weariness of accomplishment as he glided slowly into Uruk.
At last, he landed before the ziggurat.
"Senpai!"
Mash could not help but call out.
"Master!"
Many Servants likewise turned to him.
Everyone gazed at Rozen, their eyes filled with expectation and unease alike.
Rozen had returned to Uruk, standing before the ziggurat. Looking upon all the familiar faces, a smile gradually spread across his face.
"Clang…"
Brilliant light flared as Rozen raised his hand.
In his hand gleamed a golden urn.
Seeing this, everyone immediately understood.
The Holy Grail of this era had been retrieved.
They had succeeded.
Faces flushed red with emotion.
And then—
"""""Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo————!!!"""""
Cries of joy and tears erupted across all of Uruk.
People embraced one another, cheering together.
Led by Mash, the Servants rushed toward Rozen.
Rozen too laughed, as cheers echoed from the Chaldea comms.
This battle—humanity had triumphed.
The seventh Singularity, the most perilous and arduous thus far, had at last been overcome.