Tristan lifted his head, rain falling on his face, sliding down his fiery red hair and handsome features.
"It's raining," he said softly. "How fitting for the sorrow of this battlefield. That queen really knows how to set the mood."
Lowering his gaze, he looked straight at Shiomi, still on horseback in the distance.
Shiomi was soaked in blood, though none of it was his.
The Enforcement Knights who had flanked from the rear were already dealt with. The others who had surrounded him alongside Tristan were all dead. Only a few surviving warhorses, now riderless, fled in panic.
At first, Tristan had felt a pang of guilt for leading troops to encircle a human Master. Nearly a hundred against one—it could only end in a massacre.
But he had only been half right.
It was a massacre—one man slaughtering nearly a hundred.
Rain washed the thick blood off Shiomi's body, mixing with the downpour as it hit the ground. The rain grew heavier, bouncing off him and his crimson spear, creating the illusion of a barrier shrouding him from afar.
Shiomi gave his spear a small shake, and the blood clinging to it splattered onto the ground. The hand gripping the weapon trembled slightly.
These Enforcement Knights all had strength approaching that of a Servant. Even for Shiomi, killing nearly a hundred had pushed him to the brink.
"And you, Tristan. So many soldiers have died, and you don't seem fazed at all."
"It's not that I'm unaffected—I simply can't feel it," Tristan replied. "This is my king's 'Gift,' called 'Inversion.' Without it, I'd be too overcome with sorrow to even pluck my harp's strings."
His fingers moved deftly over the bowstring, but the rain had rendered it incapable of producing any beautiful notes.
That made Tristan deeply sorrowful—so invisible arrows shot out from all directions, piercing through the curtain of rain, targeting Shiomi.
"Now that they're no longer in the way, I can focus on aiming at you," Tristan said, his voice cold and detached.
But just like before, Shiomi easily deflected the arrows.
"Invisible arrows? They were more threatening earlier. Now that my Master's made it rain, I can clearly see their paths cutting through the rain!"
He tugged the reins, preparing to charge.
But the instant he moved, he froze.
The moment he left his position, countless threads lashed out, binding him and his steed. Their source lay with the fallen Enforcement Knights and horses—just like how Morgan had used chains to restrain two knights earlier, these threads now ensnared Shiomi in the same fashion.
"Sigh... You never learn, do you?"
The scene reminded Shiomi of the battle in London. He flexed his arms slightly—and the threads that should've been able to tear through flesh suddenly went limp, harmless.
"Anti-bind Magecraft… what a troublesome opponent."
Tristan sighed, urging his horse to gallop, maintaining distance while repeatedly plucking his bowstring to fire vacuum arrows.
His attacks couldn't reach Shiomi, naturally—but they were enough to disrupt the horse under Shiomi's Magecraft control.
Then, as Shiomi was focused on blocking a vital strike, Tristan fired a single arrow through the horse's skull.
Shiomi immediately leapt off, rolled a few times across the sand, and dropped into a kneeling stance with his spear ready.
Though he had wiped out the Enforcement Knights, taking down the Gifted Knights of the Round Table wasn't something that could be done in a flash.
What worried Shiomi more was whether, if this turned into a stalemate, reinforcements would arrive.
But that concern soon vanished.
Suddenly, the dark clouds were torn apart, and golden light burst through, rapidly expanding.
Shiomi recognized it instantly.
The Holy Lance, Rhongomyniad.
Morgan had learned Magecraft through the Holy Lance—her Tower Magecraft stemmed from it.
Shiomi quickly fell back and regrouped with Morgan and Scáthach. The three Round Table Knights didn't pursue them. They too stared up, stunned.
It didn't take long for Shiomi to confirm it wasn't Morgan who had activated the spell. If it had been, a significant amount of Mana would have been drawn from him.
In mere seconds, the Holy Lance pierced through the clouds like a pillar from the heavens, plunging toward the battlefield.
Whether it was Artoria or not didn't matter—the Holy Lance had arrived, and whoever unleashed it intended to wipe out both them and the Round Table Knights still here.
"The Holy Lance amounts to nothing more than this. My husband, use your Mana—" Morgan raised her hand, preparing to activate her Tower Magecraft.
Shiomi held her back. "...If two Holy Lances clash, will anyone else around here survive?"
Morgan hesitated for a moment.
They weren't alone. The others who had come to this Singularity with them were still nearby.
But the Holy Lance was already upon them. Even with the Water Mirror, there wouldn't be time...
"I'll hold it off!"
Shiomi clenched his fist. Runes lit up across the sky above, forming interconnected arrays of various sizes. These spell formations wove together into a massive Grand Magecraft barrier—just enough to stop the Holy Lance's advance.
And stop it they did—barely.
The moment the barrier met the lance's power, cracks began to spread, slow but unstoppable.
Scáthach quickly layered her own spellwork onto Shiomi's. Even so, all they could manage was to further slow the fracturing.
"This power... Divine-level? Just who is this...?" Scáthach muttered, clearly strained.
The Knights of the Round Table, including Mordred, seized the brief moment the lance was held back to spiritform and retreat from the battlefield, distancing themselves from its range.
None of them believed they could withstand the Holy Lance—that was a certainty deep in their hearts.
"Hurry, Morgan! Take everyone and get out of here!" Shiomi urged. "Master too—"
"You're planning to die alone?" Morgan couldn't accept it.
But if they all stayed to block divine power, even together, the toll would be too great. It would give the Knights of the Round Table the opening they needed.
"That's only if I die," Shiomi said, freeing one hand and giving Scáthach a shove.
Their shoulders bumped slightly.
With Scáthach pulled away, the cracks in the barrier began to spread at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"I'm counting on you, Morgan! Master!"
Without looking back, Shiomi poured everything into holding the barrier, his voice a desperate plea.
"...I'll come back for you."
Clutching her magic spear, Morgan gave one last promise before retreating with Scáthach to the sand cruiser. The Water Mirror spell flared to life.
And just as Shiomi's barrier reached its limit and shattered, the Water Mirror whisked the Chaldea group away from the desert.
The Holy Lance pierced through the barrier and crashed into the sands.
A surge of golden light erupted, swallowing Tenkei Shiomi.
The desert, under the sheer force of the impact, was carved into a massive crater. The sand wasn't scattered—it was sublimated by the light, transformed into air that filled the area.
Amid the rising smoke, the bottom of the crater sank so deep its center was invisible from the rim.
At the heart of it all, a lone figure lay sprawled in a pool of blood.
...
(100 Chapters Ahead)
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