When the brilliant blue magical radiance soared into the sky, Guinevere lay sprawled among the ruins, completely spent along with the rest of his companions.
The knight's shadow did not pursue them further. He sheathed his sword and, with a single raised hand, silently signaled toward the entrance.
Though unable to speak, his gesture was clear:
— You have been defeated. Withdraw at once.
— You are unworthy.
"How on earth are we supposed to win…?"
Outside the thick fog of the bell tower entrance, Artoria turned back and stared despondently at the new fog door that had reformed at the gate.
She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, still stinging from the blade's wound. The crushing weight of near-death hung in her mind like a lump in her throat, leaving her breathless even now.
(For the record, her clothes, restored by Grim's life-saving magic, remained intact—much to everyone's relief.)
"Getting discouraged this early, Prophecy Child?"
Grim lounged to one side, his staff resting casually on his shoulder. "If this trial were so easy, what meaning would it even have? If you can't even pass this, you're nothing more than a run-of-the-mill fairy…"
He rattled off lines that any stern old mentor in an anime would deliver, hoping to shake Artoria out of her funk.
But instead, Artoria hugged her staff and retreated into a corner, tracing circles on the ground and murmuring, "I'm sorry… I'm such a useless, pathetic fairy…"
"Hey, Grim! Watch what you say! You didn't exactly ace it yourself!"
Guinevere snapped at Grim and immediately ran to comfort Artoria, leaving Grim frozen in place.
"Uh… sorry. I didn't expect this Prophecy Child to be so different from the last…"
Grim tried to explain, but only succeeded in digging himself deeper.
"I'm sorry… I'm so much weaker than the former Fairy of Paradise… I really—"
Seeing Artoria bow her head lower, and Guinevere shooting him a furious glare, Grim covered his face in shame.
"Fine, fine. I admit this trial is absurdly difficult. That's exactly why I'm here—to help you. You don't need to be discouraged, Artoria. It's normal to struggle with something this tough—"
"Thank you. But no more pep talks. I've pulled myself together. Now let's figure out how to win."
Artoria lifted her head, her resolve renewed. Grim slowly penciled in a question mark above his staff.
"She may lose hope easily, but Artoria always bounces back quickly—that's her strength," Guinevere explained.
"Huh? What kind of convoluted character trait is that?" Grim groaned.
"I think it's adorable," Guinevere shot back.
"All right, enough banter. Let's get down to business!" Artoria blushed and changed the subject. "Let's figure out how to beat that thing up there!"
"Indeed…"
Percival, ever the diligent scholar, stepped forward to analyze. "In terms of raw strength and speed, those two hero shadows aren't fundamentally stronger than us. Our gap with the Rendingien Knight lies in versatility and experience."
"It's embarrassing to admit I formed the Round Table Army on the strength of a name like 'hero,'" Percival continued. "I'm far from worthy of its leader."
"You're comparing yourself—" Grim began, but paused, grimacing. "Okay, yes, he's a non-human monster. The former Grim described him as a foe worthy of warring with the King of Gods—unprecedented in ferocity. But what we face now is only a fragment of his past valor. Still, even this fragment remains within human limits."
"A non-human monster…"
Guinevere stroked his chin. "If he were any stronger, I wouldn't even be talking about him as human."
"Uh…" Grim's face went strangely blank.
"What is it, Grim?" Guinevere asked.
"Nothing. Actually, this works in our favor. Those shadows are merely examiners, not executioners. They won't annihilate someone who's already lost the will to fight."
Grim replied coolly. "Thanks to the life-saving magic, we won't lose any members. If we fail once, we can try again. Sooner or later, we'll prevail."
Strange runes lit the air, and dense starlight rippled across the sky like a dark nebula.
"Fall back!"
Guinevere's face hardened as he shouted the warning.
—Origin Magic: Star-Creation Rain
A legendary magic of the borderlands, discovered by ancient stargazers to transform the void into falling star-amber.
Under Grim's limited power, the meteor shower covered only a ten-meter radius, but its force was immense.
As soon as the warning rang out, countless fist-sized orbs of star-magic plummeted like torrential rain, drenching the entire team.
"Retreat! Those meteors pack a punch!"
Grim tried to ward them off with his staff, only to have his hands numbed by the impact.
"We can't get out—they're too dense!" Redra wailed, already battered by the unrelenting hail.
"I'll handle this!"
Artoria sprang forward, planting her staff into the ground. A surge of magic flowed downward, and a radiant blue barrier spread across the earth, rising to meet the falling stars and dispel them midair.
Though Artoria's magic reserves were considerable, her raw channeling lacked finesse. She soon ran out of steam, and the crushing star-rain forced her back.
But her sacrifice bought enough time for the others to escape the impact zone.
That had been only the opening gambit.
Behind the star-rain, the sky rippled again—this time with a dozen darker meteors streaking toward Artoria, who had distanced herself.
—Origin Magic: Destructive Meteor
The spell of Ruther, the Blue Shard mage, whose vision of the Origin was the cataclysm of a mighty star cluster.
"Artoria! Duck!"
Grim's voice rang out. Twelve fireballs erupted from his hands to intercept the incoming meteors—but they were instantly pierced through. The meteors continued undeterred toward Artoria.
"This power is ridiculous!" Grim's eye twitched at the display.
Guinevere charged in front of Artoria, swinging his great sword in a whirling storm of twelve strikes, deflecting each meteor. Thanks to Grim's partial weakening, he held them off, though the strain nearly dislocated his shoulder.
Suddenly, a Water Mirror bloomed before him. Guinevere looked up in shock to see Yusse preparing another spell—he held his staff before him like gathering a ki blast, green magic swirling at its tip.
"Mother—"
Recognizing the spell's nature, Guinevere cursed.
—Origin Magic: Comet Azr
The spell of Azr, the Green Shard mage, whose vision of the Origin was darkness itself, a void that devoured his spirit.
A torrent of emerald magic surged forth, sweeping Guinevere and Artoria down the stairway in one unstoppable wave.
"Guinevere! Artoria!"
The other three gaped, unable to react before Yusse readied his next assault.
He thrust his staff into the ground, a purple gravity orb forming at its tip, then blossoming into vast arcane runes. Three purple spheres hovered above, like wormholes to distant stars, from which a barrage of glowing meteors launched, targeting the scattered party.
"Hohoho—what is this?!"
A meteor blasted the ground next to Redra, carving a crater larger than its body. Redra shrieked in terror.
"There's no choice—time for real power! Two mere shadows have gall to face the agent of a god so brazenly!"
Grim strode forward, spinning his staff like a lance, fire flaring around him. His eyes snapped shut as his voice deepened and he intoned the true name of his Noble Phantasm:
"Burn to ashes, O Arboreal Titan—forge the Flaming Prison!"
—Blazing Inferno Caged Flame!
At the utterance of power, Grim's eyes flew open. A consuming blaze erupted around him, and from the center, a colossal fire giant shaped of living wood—and towering dozens of meters—rose like a living prison of flame.
"Crush those meteors and our foes alike!"
Grim roared, pointing his staff at the witch and knight shadows.
At his command, the flaming giant lumbered forward to meet the onrushing meteor shower.
But, at the forefront of the barrage, dozens of Water Mirrors unfolded. Each meteor plunged safely into its own mirror.
On the other end of those mirrors, beams of water magic cascaded down upon Grim, Redra, and Percival.
"—We're trapped."
Grim's face went ashen as the redirected meteors sealed every escape path.
"I've become the clown."