At some unknown time, the Einzbern Castle had completely become ruins.
Countless swords and blades crisscrossed and stood upright. These swords hadn't yet disappeared, and the next wave of swords once again descended.
Endless, inexhaustible. Each one was a legend forged by a hero at one point. Each one contained power that existed only in myths.
The land was like being ceaselessly bombarded by hundreds or thousands of powerful bombs.
Dirt splashed, not a blade of grass grew.
Yet, under this impenetrable assault, a blue figure darted like lightning, agile and nimble. The magic spear in his hand swung with mighty vigor.
Though he was in a disadvantageous position, there was not the slightest sign of defeat oh his face.
Instead, like a beast waiting to strike with one decisive blow, it concealed its aura, gathering strength.
"Cough! Cough! Cough…"
Amid the rain of spears and bullets, Medea hid in a corner, healing the wounds on her body caused by a Noble Phantasm aimed specifically at her, while freeing one arm to maintain the barrier that protected Illya and the Einzbern maids, and Bazett.
The reason Lancer was here was that she had made a deal.
She detoxified Bazett and reattached her arm, and in return, Lancer was responsible for protecting the Einzbern Castle during that time.
Facts proved the deal was worth it.
Without Lancer, once Goldie(Gilgamesh) appeared, none of them would have left alive.
As of now, they were already in an extremely dangerous situation.
Bazett was still unconscious, the poison in her body had just been purged, and her arm had only just been reattached.
Illya was still asleep, or rather, Medea didn't dare let her wake up.
If she learned Berserker was gone, she couldn't predict what the girl, pure as snow, would do. It was possible she'd feel everything was meaningless.
"Caster, what are the odds of us escaping with the young lady?", Sella tightly held Illya, watching the Noble Phantasms constantly falling from the sky.
Servant's Noble Phantasms, symbols of a hero's honor, were being hurled like they were worthless by that Servant. And that nauseating smell of blood…
"Unfortunately, I'm afraid there's no chance," As soon as Medea tried to use teleportation magic, the Noble Phantasms aimed at her would come endlessly.
Clearly, Gilgamesh didn't want them to leave, but also seemed wary of damaging something, so they kept them restricted in this corner.
It was ridiculous. He could deal with Lancer easily and still keep attention on them. Just who the hell was this Servant?
Medea pondered over Gilgamesh's true name while guessing his purpose for coming here. She actually already had a hunch.
Her gaze landed on the sleeping Illya.
Delicate features, faint tear stains under long lashes, occasionally murmuring "Berserker" in her sleep.
Medea sighed.
'The Lesser Holy Grail, such a sweet treat, everyone wants a piece.'
Especially with Berserker having exited along with Assassin, and their souls absorbed by the Lesser Holy Grail, it was still unknown how much that would affect Illya. As a human body vessel, how much could she endure?
'You really left me quite the problem, Berserker,' Medea sighed once more.
———
Back to the battlefield—
Facing the bombardment of Noble Phantasms, Cú Chulainn, fighting with all his strength, was only slightly dirtied at the hems.
In this situation, the Protection from Arrows helped tremendously.
Truly worthy of being an Archer's bane.
As the Son of Light from Ireland, he had nearly maxed out all survival skills.
Along with extremely high agility, in battle he was like a phantom.
However, for him to unleash his full combat power, it had to be solo action.
Unfortunately, his luck was never quite right.
Let's not talk about the previous two battles, this time was even worse.
"YOU BASTARD!"
Swinging his spear to knock away a Noble Phantasm that couldn't be dodged, Lancer tried to use an explosive burst of speed to get close to Gilgamesh.
But was absolutely forced back to his original position.
From the very start, he had fallen into the same predicament as Heracles. Unable to go all-in, needing to attract all firepower to himself so Bazett and the three women wouldn't get hurt.
"Boring," Gilgamesh crossed his arms, expression arrogant.
He seemed disdainful, but in truth, he wasn't going easy.
He wasn't stupid enough to not recognize who the opponent was.
He kept tossing out Noble Phantasms capable of dealing with Lancer like they cost nothing. And he remained on Vimana, never coming down.

Of course, he also had a Noble Phantasm that could make him fly even without Vimana.
But to watch a clown's performance, sitting on the throne was more fitting.
"Come then, let this king see how long you can last, Son of Light of Ireland," The King of Heroes waved his hand grandly, intending to end this battle.
Golden gates filled the sky, the mystery and cold edges of the Noble Phantasms flashing momentarily.
This was no longer describable as blotting out the sky, there wasn't even space left for an ant to dodge.
The dazzling golden light completely stole the radiance of the sun.
A true all-around, no-dead-angle bombardment.
Want to dodge? Easy. Just get inside the only unaffected area, Medea's barrier. But that was meaningless.
"So troublesome…", Cú Chulainn could practically imagine the scene of himself being pierced like a hedgehog.
Even with the Protection from Arrows, there was absolutely no way he could survive this unscathed.
Moreover, he looked down. Thick chains extended, wrapping around his legs, hands, neck, and waist. The more he moved, the tighter they bound.
In that moment, Lancer finally recognized this guy's true identity.
"Chains of Heaven, huh," He said, "As a divine restraint, legend has it that it's Uruk's most powerful weapon, the higher the opponent's divinity, the stronger the chains."
"I see," Cú Chulainn suddenly understood, "You are the oldest king of mankind, two-thirds god, one-third human, King of Heroes, Gilgamesh."
———
"So it really is King of Heroes Gilgamesh," Medea showed a shocked expression.
He was the legitimate Servant slayer. That explained why he had so many high-quality Noble Phantasms.
"Never thought someone would summon such a broken guy," At this point, Medea finally gave up struggling. She gently stroked Illya's delicate face and said with regret, "Looks like we're all going to lose, huh, Berserker."
'Will I ever see him again… that blue sea from my memories, and that smile under the fireworks?'
"Caster," Sella made a decision, handing Illya to Medea, "It's not the time to give up yet!"
"That's right… Protecting the young lady… is our duty," Leysritt said.
"What are you planning?", Medea asked the maid who always argued with Berserker.
———
At the moment when the steel flood of arrows was about to fall, Cú Chulainn finally chose to gamble it all.
All his mana gathered together. Crimson light flowed across the spear's shaft, the powerful energy even made the swirling dust and rubble tremble faintly.
The air was dyed with his color.
The earth cracked inch by inch.
Gilgamesh sneered, "Naive. If you had given up on those women earlier, maybe you'd have had a chance."
Actually, there was no chance at all. Facing the King of Heroes, unless it was Berserker linked to the Grail, there was virtually no chance of winning.
Even escaping was extremely difficult.
"NOBLE PHANTASM—", The spear tip pointed upward.
Lancer focused all his strength, taking a throwing stance.
Just this familiar movement, done countless times in the past, now took great effort.
His mana was completely squeezed out, squeezed and squeezed again.
A bomb-level terrifying force was compressed into the two-foot-long magic spear. Not a shred was left.
Facing overwhelming power, Cú Chulainn still stuck to his path.
No dodging, no fleeing, only throwing the spear with everything he had.
"Gáe Bolg: Soaring Spear that Strikes With Death!"
With a roar, Lancer's veins bulged, the magic spear shot from his hand. It smashed into the overwhelming steel flood from above.
But as the saying goes, n o matter how powerful the martial artist, they can't overcome an endless army.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
A terrifying explosion echoed. A thick mushroom cloud soared into the sky.
The intense tremor even made people in Fuyuki City involuntarily turn toward the sound's direction.
Yet the outskirts sealed by the barrier looked the same as always, nothing visible.
They could only guess, perhaps another gas leak somewhere.
"To think he could do this much?", Gilgamesh looked at the magic spear that pierced through the steel flood, then penetrated an A-rank defensive Noble Phantasm, and nearly reached him. His expression for once showed a hint of surprise.
He piloted Vimana, descended to the ground.
In the crater blasted open by the Noble Phantasm clash, he slowly walked toward Lancer, who had become a pincushion.
The Chains of Heaven never loosened their grip.
Gilgamesh stopped just two inches away from him.
"This level… does it surpass the Norse chief god Odin's 'The Great God's Altar (Gambanteinn Valhalla)'?", He said with a tone that could barely be called admiration, "In that case, this king grudgingly acknowledges your strength."
He looked down on Lancer with arrogance and disdain, "In the end, you made this king look forward to nothing."
"You're the one, who finally came down, YOU TURTLE!!"
Scarlet magic light flashed, Lancer glared with his crimson eyes.
Even with all four limbs pierced, so what? It's just a fatal wound.
That guy Berserker already proved himself, how could he, fall here?
"DIE WITH ME, KING OF HEROES!", A beast driven to the brink roared, launching a final counterattack.
The magic spear responded to its master, letting out one final scream.
This was Cú Chulainn's final dance.
"Gáe Bolg: Barbed Spear That Pierces with Death!"
Two inches wasn't an impossible distance.
Gilgamesh sneered, "Foolish."
As the words fell, a golden gate opened.
Without doubt, it was the true form of the Caladbolg, delivering the finishing blow to Lancer.
At the moment when the final spear was about to be thrown, Lancer's hand fell powerlessly.
"HAHAHAHA!", Gilgamesh clutched his face, laughing wildly up at the sky, "You thought this king would approach you without preparation?"
"Don't make me laugh. Loyal dog!"
Twelve golden gates appeared.
High-quality Noble Phantasms slowly emerged.
"Time for your curtain call, Son of Light of Ireland," The King of Heroes gave the signal.
"Is that so…", Cú Chulainn closed his eyes.
'So unwilling… even though I swore it to that guy…'
The image of that red-haired, cold-faced bastard floated in his mind.
'Didn't expect that in the end, this blow still couldn't surpass you.'
'In that case, I guess this counts as my loss.'
The Noble Phantasms fell—
Servant Lancer, took his leave.
"NOW'S THE TIME, LEYSRITT!"
Sella rushed out from the corner, shouting decisively.
BOOM!
With Medea's teleportation magic, Leysritt appeared behind Gilgamesh. Her eyes were calm, her expression resolute, and she swung a weapon that didn't suit her, slashing toward Gilgamesh.
"Hmph!", Gilgamesh didn't even flinch, the first Noble Phantasm appeared.
SLASH!
Without warning, Leysritt's right arm was severed. The Einzbern's headscarf fluttered, stained with blood.
A figure as pure as a snowflake fell.
The second and third polearm-type Noble Phantasms pierced through Sella's body, nailing her to the ground. Blood flowed over the uneven stone floor.
Gilgamesh stared at this scene with utmost coldness.
"Se…lla," Leysritt stretched out her only remaining hand.
The proud King of Heroes didn't even glance at the struggling Leysritt. He walked directly to Sella.
Behind him, four golden gates opened, Noble Phantasms surrounded Leysritt, ready to fall.
"A crude diversion… So Lancer's use of his Noble Phantasm from the start was all to create a distraction for these three to escape?", Gilgamesh eyed the Noble Phantasm in Sella's hand.
Rule Breaker: All Spells Must Be Broken!
'Did they think I am incarnated through some magecraft?'
'Laughable and boring.'
"So that's what it was. A homunculus? As a creation, it's indeed quite refined," The King of Heroes never withheld his praise.
"But," he changed tone, saying, "Though given a pure heart, for the humans of this world, they will never repay you."
Gilgamesh drew a sword from the void, expressionless, aimed at Sella's head, preparing to behead her.
"If you two had fled by yourselves, this king might have spared your lives."
"Now, scatter like dust."
The sword was raised high.
"In that way, the Holy Grail's vessel will come to me on its own."
Sella raised her head with difficulty, blood flowing endlessly. She said resolutely, "As long as I'm alive, I will absolutely, not let you hurt, the young lady!"
"Is that so?"
Compared to Cú Chulainn, such pure will actually earned more praise from the proud king. Because they were undeniably pure.
"Then fulfill your final duty."
The holy sword fell.
The Noble Phantasms behind also launched simultaneously.
"GILGAMESH!"
Then came a shout laced with absolute rage, a fury that completely lost reason.
Rage that turned into a true berserker, intent on tearing everything apart.
Mad Enhancement: EX!
In that moment, a wild Berserker was fully unleashed.
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