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Artoria felt the weight of Russell's trust settle over her shoulders like a physical thing. Her fingers tightened around Caliburn's hilt, feeling the familiar pulse of the sword's power responding to her touch.
This was her first real legion battle. Sure, Russell had crafted memories of Camlann and countless other conflicts into her existence, but those felt distant - like stories she'd been told rather than experiences she'd lived. Watching that flesh dragon nearly swallow Russell whole had sent pure panic shooting through her chest.
Would even the future King of Knights feel this kind of despair? she wondered, remembering fragments of battles yet to come. The King who stood at Camlann, watching everything fall apart?
But she wasn't that King yet. She wasn't bound by the weight of a crown or the burden of a kingdom's expectations. She wasn't the Storm King wielding a holy lance. Right now, she was just Artoria - a young knight still learning what it meant to protect the people who mattered.
"It's okay, Lily," Russell said gently, sensing her nervous energy. He smiled and reached out to ruffle her hair. "Just do what you can."
Heat flooded Artoria's face instantly, turning her cheeks bright red. "I... I know," she mumbled, voice barely audible. She quickly turned away to face the distant flesh giant, using the excuse of preparing her attack to hide her embarrassment.
Russell couldn't help but grin at her flustered reaction. They'd already been intimate - the whole "magical energy transfer" thing wasn't exactly subtle - but she still got adorably flustered over simple affection.
Unaware of his thoughts, Artoria took a deep, steadying breath. She pushed aside all the distractions, all the fears and doubts, and raised Caliburn skyward. Golden light began gathering around the blade, reality itself seeming to bend toward the sword's power.
Russell felt his mental energy start draining at an alarming rate, like someone had opened a floodgate.
"Kid, what the hell are you doing?" Nolan's voice cut through the gathering power, tinged with alarm. "It's not safe here!" He looked at their position near the crater's edge, then at the bound flesh giant in the distance. "We need to fall back further!"
"Getting ready to do something big," Russell replied simply, not taking his eyes off Artoria.
"...What?"
Luke, watching Artoria's preparations, suddenly understood what was about to happen. His eyes went wide and he immediately grabbed Nolan's arm, pulling him backward.
"What the—Luke, are you insane!?" Nolan stumbled as he was dragged away. "You'll get court-martialed for deserting!"
Luke's face had gone pale, voice urgent. "Nolan, Russell's got one more attack he hasn't used yet. We need to get away from him. Now."
Nolan looked back at Russell in confusion. Wasn't that defensive barrier his limit? What kind of monster is this guy?
Around Artoria, wind was picking up - not natural breeze but something generated by the sheer amount of power concentrating around her small form. Dust and debris swirled in increasingly violent spirals. Caliburn's physical form was dissolving, the golden blade transforming from solid metal into pure energy that hurt to look at directly.
The price for that transformation was a beam of light that pierced straight through the sky, visible for miles in every direction.
Every fighter on the battlefield - demon and cardmaker alike - stopped mid-swing to stare at the impossible sight. Weapons lowered, spells fizzled out, everyone just... frozen, watching the golden pillar tear through reality itself.
"What the hell is that?"
"You're telling me that's from a silver-level cardmaker? Like us?"
"That's not possible. That can't be possible."
In the distance, the gold-level commander watched with something approaching awe on his usually stern face. "A silver-level cardmaker... can do something like this. Incredible."
He understood the restrictions immediately - the massive energy cost, the need for someone to pin down the target, the probably limited uses. But in exchange for those limitations, this young cardmaker had an attack that would make most gold-level fighters nervous.
The flesh-and-blood giant felt danger radiating from Artoria like heat from a furnace. It began thrashing against its bindings with renewed desperation, completely ignoring the damage the flaming chains were causing.
"Damn it! DAMN IT!" The giant's voice rose to a hysterical shriek. "Get OUT of my WAY! I said GET OUT!"
When the chains refused to break, something shifted in the creature's malformed features. Its remaining eye blazed with desperate cunning. Under the horrified gaze of nearby cardmakers, the giant made a choice - it detonated itself.
Chunks of meat exploded outward like a grotesque bomb, each piece trying to escape the coming attack independently.
But it was too late.
"CALIBURN!"
Artoria's voice rang clear and strong across the battlefield, carrying absolute conviction. The golden beam erupted downward like divine judgment made manifest.
The light didn't just illuminate - it consumed. Everything in its path simply ceased to exist, matter breaking down into component atoms before even those burned away. The ground buckled and screamed, massive cracks spreading outward from the point of impact.
Russell poured his mental energy into Artoria without hesitation, feeling the connection between them flare as power flowed through their bond. In a Holy Grail War, he'd be considered the perfect Master - unlimited magical energy, willingness to spam Noble Phantasms like they were disposable, and absolute trust in his Servant.
And this Artoria wasn't some weakened Heroic Spirit summoned by the Grail. This was the original, at full power, with a Master who could actually support that level of ability.
The golden beam thickened, doubling in width as Russell fed more power into the attack. Light filled the world, turning everything gold.
AAAHHHHH!"
The flesh giant's scream tore through the air as the light swallowed its scattered pieces. Each chunk of meat burned away in seconds, the creature's desperate escape attempt becoming its execution.
Russell watched without expression as the demon died inch by inch, reduced to ash and then less than ash. Finally, as his mental energy reserves approached their limit, the golden beam faded.
What remained was a smoking canyon carved into the earth - perfectly straight edges glowing with residual heat, extending further than Russell could see. The destruction was absolute.
Most of the flesh giant was simply gone, erased from existence. The charred ground around the impact zone held no demon corpses to fuel its regeneration.
"Tsk, not dead," Russell muttered, noting the creature's remaining fragments. He hadn't expected to kill it outright - this attack was mainly meant to eliminate the corpses fueling its immortality.
"Ptooey!"
Blood gushed from what was left of the giant's mouth. Its remaining eye fixed on Russell with pure hatred, its voice breaking with hysteria.
"You DAMNED ant! How!? Why didn't you DIE?! I should have killed you first! I should have—I want you DEAD! I WANT YOU DEAD!"
The creature couldn't comprehend what had happened. It was gold-level. The humans it crushed were supposed to be insects beneath its notice. How had an ant - a mere silver-rank ant - dealt such devastating damage?
If I can just reach the other corpses, the giant's remaining thoughts raced frantically. Its eye darted toward where other cardmakers and demons were fighting. If I can replenish myself, I can still win. I can still—
"You have no chance."
The gold-level commander's voice cut through the giant's delusions like a knife. He'd been watching, waiting for the right moment. Now, with the demon crippled and desperate, he struck.
Flames fell from the sky in a concentrated pillar, incinerating what remained of the flesh giant. The creature burned, its final moments spent staring at Russell with complete incomprehension.
Why? that look seemed to ask. How did an ant hurt me? How did an ant survive?
But those questions died with the demon, its ashes scattering on the wind. If demons had a hell, it was heading there with a lot of unanswered questions.
The battlefield stayed quiet for several heartbeats after the giant's death. Everyone was still processing what they'd witnessed - a silver-level cardmaker making an attack that had made a gold-level demon look like a chump.
"Well done."
The voice came from right beside Russell, close enough to make him jump slightly.
(End of this chapter)
PLZ THROW POWERSTONES.