It hadn't exerted much effort at all before it easily overwhelmed the man.
Its enormous size granted it absolute strength—its already tough hide, magnified dozens of times, became an impenetrable armor that ordinary steel in the man's hand simply could not pierce.
Around its body, a powerful domain manifested: flames and storm clouds roiled within it. Each time it consumed more, its size swelled further and the domain's temperature climbed. Any creature that still breathed but hadn't yet been devoured by it would be transformed by that domain into a loyal scout, sent forth to hunt any living being in its line of sight.
So this mortal before it—whose physical power and innate protections paled in comparison—could never be its match.
Experience counts for nothing against such an overwhelming gap in strength. The man's only tactic was to flit around its massive frame like a flea, buying himself precious seconds—but no more.
Too weak,
too powerless—
What could such a fragile being possibly hope to accomplish? This pitiful creature, destined to lose, why did he struggle so desperately?
The beast did not care to ponder such questions; it was merely irritated.
Even as the man pushed himself to his limit, he succeeded only in delaying it for less than a minute. Then, in a fit of impatience, the beast unleashed a sweeping strike that sent him flying into the rubble.
But before it could devour him, a single phrase echoed in its ears:
"For the one I love, I must stop you here."
Though it had lost all reason and could no longer comprehend those words' meaning, some strange impulse stirred within. It abandoned its meal and turned, heading once more in the direction it had started from.
Though it could no longer recall why, it vaguely remembered that it must press onward along this path—devouring every fairy it encountered.
Then, as it advanced once more, a hand shot up from the rubble and grabbed a tuft of long fur on the beast's tail.
.........
[You have witnessed the Calamity of Beasts: Bagster.]
"How… is this possible? That is… Bagster?"
Even though the simulator had declared it plainly, Artoria could hardly believe her eyes.
How could this be? Why? Was there some mistake?
The Bagster she had known so diligently—how had she become such a monster?
There was no time for Artoria to ponder further.
[The Calamity of Beasts moves in your direction.]
Without hesitation, upon seeing the monstrous creature pivot toward her, the fairies who had pressed around Artoria scattered like startled birds, fleeing in every direction and abandoning her to her fate.
But Artoria was not surprised—fairies were always that way. If they had stayed to protect her or tried to bring her along, it would have been the strange thing.
[Redra Bitt has found you and offers to escort you to Chaldea.]
"All right, Miss Artoria, I imagine you need a coachman to get you out of here, yes?"
The tall unicorn-like fairy sniffed politely and bowed with gentlemanly poise:
"In that case, leave it to me. I am Britannia's finest steed-fairy—there is no coachman better than I!"
"You…"
Artoria was taken aback by this utterly unexpected turn. Before she could think further, Redra yanked the carriage close and swung its door open:
"All right! No time to waste—get in! You don't want that giant beast devouring you, do you?"
He nodded toward where the colossal creature loomed.
By the time they spoke, the beast had already leveled several city blocks, barreling toward them with unstoppable force.
"Th-thank you."
[You board Redra Bitt's carriage, which quickly speeds you out of the city.]
"Redra, I know it's asking too much at a time like this… but could you—save Guinevere?"
Inside the carriage, Artoria gripped the handrail tightly and shouted to the racing Redra.
Redra froze for a moment. His eyes flicked in thought, then he asked:
"What did you say?"
"I… I want you to save my beloved Guinevere!" Artoria raised her voice again.
"Say that again—I didn't catch it!"
"I'm asking you to—rescue Guinevere!"
"It's too windy—I can't hear you!"
"You—"
Artoria's face went pale.
She knew it was useless to keep asking. She had already read with her fairy eye that Redra Bitt had no intention of turning back to save Guinevere—yet she clung to the faintest hope, so she persisted.
Still, she sensed Redra was hiding something and felt him guilt-stricken for doing so… yet he remained determined.
Panic fluttered in Artoria's chest. She suddenly sensed the answer.
"Hey! Wait for us! Redra! There's room in your carriage, right? Take us with you!"
At that moment, several ill-timed voices sounded from the side. Artoria looked over and saw several familiar faces—those same fairies who had forced her to separate from Guinevere and then abandoned her to flee. Their escape path had been identical to Redra's, and now he had overtaken them.
Spotting the carriage behind Redra, they began to plead:
"Why are you taking that useless Artoria? She can't do anything—take us instead!"
"Yes! She's boring and weak. Even if you take her to the human world, she can't enjoy anything with you. Take us! We'll show you how to use humans for amusement!"
The fairies chattered eagerly to Redra—but he paid them no mind. He only increased speed, quickly leaving them behind.
"Bastard! You'd leave us to die?! And call yourself our comrade?!"
Infuriated, the fairies hurled insults and then attacked Redra directly, launching volleys of fireballs and wind blades. But Redra nimbly dodged every one.
Then, just as the fairies, undeterred, prepared to unleash more magic at Redra, a massive black shadow descended upon them.
"Ahhhhh—"
Horrific screams erupted from behind. Artoria wheeled around in shock—and saw those fairies being crushed to pulp by the enormous black hound.
It moved so swiftly that its colossal form seemed to belie its speed—now outpacing even Redra Bitt. When Artoria first glimpsed it, it had been over a thousand meters away; now it was within mere hundreds of meters.
"How is this possible?! It should've been slowed—"
Redra muttered in disbelief, but he cut himself off mid-sentence and pushed the turnout harder.
A couple of hundred meters is not a short distance—but for Bagster as she now was, it barely spanned three or four strides. With a single bound, she overtook those fleeing fairies.
Even if they struggled desperately, it was futile—Bagster possessed the innate talent to consume magic. Now, as a full calamity, that power had grown exponentially. The fairies could not even land a scratch; she crushed them without effort.
—In truth, even if they had been at full strength, what could they have done? For one deserving the title "Great Calamity," their attacks could not even pierce her hide—destruction was their only fate.
"—How… did it come to this?"
From her seat at the back of the carriage, Artoria stared at Bagster in the distance—that figure she had once admired—saying nothing.
She had spent so long watching Bagster from afar, tracking rumors of her deeds across Britannia, striving to one day catch up and surpass her.
So why had it come to this?
Watching the monstrous creature howl and ram through the city it had vowed to protect, Artoria could only sigh deeply.
But now, more than mourning Bagster, her heart was seized by another concern.
"Redra, you said someone was holding her back?"
"—…"
Redra remained silent, but Artoria had already gleaned the truth.
Because he had arrived.
When Bagster was but a few dozen meters from Redra, that man climbed up from the beast's back onto its skull.
"Haaaaargh—"
A heart-wrenching roar split the air as the one-armed man, sword in hand, vaulted in front of the giant beast and plunged his blade into its eye.
A deafening bellow burst from Bagster—but for the first time, that roar carried agony as well.
"Go—go on, now—"
With a final command to his companions in the distance, Guinevere ripped his sword from Bagster's eye and leaped upward, driving the blade through Bagster's forehead.
But he failed.
The blade, already battered and bent, struck the beast's tough hide and curled into a dangerous angle. Then, under his full weight, it shattered— the broken tip rebounding to impale his own chest.
Guinevere faltered, then suddenly turned and flung the remaining hilt at the carriage behind him. The handle spun through the air and severed the rope holding the curtain closed, allowing it to drop and block Artoria's view.
"—Go forward!"
"—Don't look back!"
That was the last Artoria saw and heard.
Then the carriage thundered away, leaving all behind.
…
—He had known all along he could not win—so why had he continued to fight?
Before his body was shattered, Guinevere thought he heard someone ask him just that.
"Ahh—"
Consciousness was slipping, thought slowing to a halt. Yet upon hearing the question, he obeyed his heart and uttered the one line he had always considered cool.
Though each fragment of speech caused him to cough up blood from his lungs, he managed to force out the words:
"…It's not about… winning or losing,"
"it's that I… must… stand here… and fight you,"
"because… I have a reason I must fight."