At the port, Gilgamesh, feeling humiliated and insulted, grew increasingly furious. His attacks accelerated. One after another, weapons emerged from golden ripples, launching forward with relentless speed. Amid the unending collisions, the weapon models stored in Berserker's box were being consumed rapidly.
Eventually, two sword models were pulled from the box, and blackness quickly spread across them. Two weapons that could truly be called Noble Phantasms were born. However, Gilgamesh, in his rage, had begun summoning even higher-tier treasures from his treasury. These struck the newly forged weapons head-on, shattering them after just a few clashes.
What? You think he shouldn't confront them directly?
The problem is that a flood of treasures was being fired at Berserker like a tidal wave—dodging was impossible. His only option was to strike down every incoming weapon.
Otherwise, Berserker Lancelot would end up like a pincushion.
Lancelot reached for the box behind him. Finding it empty, he yanked it off his back. The power of the Knight of Owner surged forward, reinforcing the box. Then, he hurled it. While it couldn't destroy the incoming barrage, it disrupted the trajectory of the weapons.
And that was enough.
There's a line from the Yellow River Cantata in China: "We have no guns or cannons, but the enemy will make them for us."
Yes, this lyric perfectly described Lancelot's situation now. As the first spear neared him, Berserker relied on the incredible reflexes granted by his class to sidestep. Just before the spear hit the ground, he seized its shaft, claiming the Noble Phantasm for himself in an instant.
He immediately swung it, sweeping away a host of incoming swords, spears, and halberds. As expected of a treasure from Gilgamesh's vault—even after the violent clash, the spear remained undamaged.
Having weathered this wave of attacks, Berserker shifted into a throwing stance, then launched the spear directly at Gilgamesh. The immense force and velocity of the throw caused a sonic boom to erupt behind it.
Gilgamesh's eyes widened slightly, his blood-red gaze growing colder and more irritated. A halberd from his treasury shot out to intercept the black spear. The two weapons collided and rebounded. The golden halberd dissolved into particles of light, absorbed back into the treasury, while the black spear embedded itself in the distant ground, its black hue slowly fading.
Gilgamesh sneered at the now-dimming spear. He had plenty of such weapons. There was no need to retrieve one that had been defiled by a mad dog's filthy hands.
Besides, this was merely a clone. The spear would disappear once the magical energy sustaining it ran dry—probably before dawn.
Still, while he didn't care about retrieving the weapon, it was another matter entirely that this filthy mutt dared to lay hands on his collection. Worse, because the beast had tainted his treasures, Gilgamesh couldn't even recall them properly.
Truth be told, Gilgamesh had somewhat calmed by this point, but the situation had become unexpectedly tricky. Lower-tier treasures weren't enough to put down the beast. But if he used high-level ones and they were similarly defiled, should he reclaim them at all?
As for using Enkidu, the Chains of Heaven?
What a joke. How could he allow his most sacred relic to touch this mongrel? That would be the ultimate insult to both himself and his dearest friend.
If anyone dared suggest he use Enkidu against this mad dog, Gilgamesh would surely answer by piercing their heart with a thousand arrows. Enkidu was reserved for his one true equal—the treasure's sanctity was untouchable.
To sully it with this creature? Absurd. Anyone who uttered such heresy deserved to gouge out their own eyes.
Should he use his best treasures now?
He pondered for a moment, then shook his head. No, facing this dog with his top-tier collection would be a waste. He decided instead to expand the battlefield and apply some tactical pressure.
This time, the golden ripple didn't face Berserker directly—it turned downward.
Another door of the treasury opened beneath it. Weapons poked out from a second gate below, falling between the two doors as if space itself were folding. They plummeted faster and faster, caught in a cycle of endless descent and acceleration.
Speed and force—those were key.
Now, as the weapons fell at breakneck speeds, the upper gate swiveled to aim at Berserker. With no time to dodge, the falling treasures would surely strike. But first, Berserker had to be pinned down.
The sound of the weapons whistling through the air tore the sky apart. Everyone who heard it instinctively took a step back. The other Masters who observed this technique couldn't help but contemplate: If this was aimed at my Servant, how would I survive it?
Perhaps the only answer was a Command Seal.
Even Kariya, hidden in the shadows, began enduring the agony coursing through his body as he debated whether to use his final command or flee.
Finally, the direction of the treasury stabilized. The falling weapons—accelerated by unnatural space-folding—launched like missiles toward Berserker.
At that moment, Kariya heard the voice of the Old Bug in his mind. Though unsure of the context, the message solidified his decision.
After all, on one hand, Berserker might not survive this assault. On the other, his own body was nearing its limit.
"In the name of the Command Seal! Berserker—return to the house!"
-End Chapter-
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