Slowly, I drew a single sword from the golden ripples.
For reasons unknown, a vast array of details about the Knight King—let's call her Saber—were etched into this vessel. Parsing its records and knowledge, the emotions this vessel held toward that Servant began to surface.
Saber, imbued with a dragon's heart, is vulnerable to dragon-slaying weapons. Relying on this insight, I drew a blade, the archetype of dragon-killers, supposedly used in another dimension against a different Saber. If it has merit, I'll wield it gratefully. Knowing her weakness, I'll exploit it relentlessly. A nameless soul like me has no room for complacency or hesitation.
Her sword, its True Name unreleased, cannot pierce this armor—or so it's said. But I won't rely on that. Her every strike and movement exudes immense mana, executing all with precision. Her full armor boasts she'd shrug off a rocket's impact. The kingly air hasn't fully taken root in me, a nameless soul.
"An Excalibur without its sheath is insignificant," the records claim.
Sheath…? Excalibur's sheath? Confusion stirred. Could a sheath outshine its blade? Does it serve a purpose beyond housing the sword?
I sought more details, but the vessel's records were stubbornly silent. Why…?
Glancing at the black Knight King, I saw no sheath. Whatever this vessel's king feared seems unlikely to occur. I sighed in relief.
Some things are beautiful precisely because they cannot be obtained.
…What? Could there be something unobtainable to a king who amassed all treasures, ancient and modern? Truly?
Is that the source of this unease, this irritation? Could the King of Heroes have felt something for that Knight King…?
I dismissed the thought instantly. Probing such sentiments is base, disrespectful. Battle intel is one thing, but unearthing past emotions is an unforgivable affront.
I don't seek to dominate or toy with this vessel. It holds undeniable experience, grandeur, and pride. As a nameless soul, I owe respect and gratitude to the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh, for not rejecting me. I must discipline myself to avoid shamelessly flaunting another's legacy.
"You're deep in thought," Saber's cold voice pierced, potent enough to drive the weak to madness. "Tired of that brainless, childish combat style?"
"Just considering the perfect way to paint you in blood," I retorted calmly. "Your blood will look splendid on that deathly, waxen skin."
My unflinching tone and steadfast values were admirable, but they wouldn't guarantee opportunity or victory.
Instead—
"Cheap provocation? I'll bite. Know you can't swallow your words, Gold!" Saber snarled.
As expected, my words ignited her fury. Her regal bearing, ingrained by nature, inspired both awe and exasperation.
A surge of mana, like a jet, hurtled toward me. A lesser hero would be cleaved and killed, unable to perceive it.
"Don't underestimate me, Black!"
"Guh!"
Instinct moved my arm before perception, barely parrying the massive slash. The impact felt like a bomb detonating nearby, but it didn't threaten my life.
In sheer absurdity and unparalleled existence, I know no equal to this king!
"Soft arms daring to block my blade?" Saber scoffed.
"A fly could perch on your barbaric swings. Your swordplay's an eyesore, Saber!" I shot back.
Though a missed parry would've been fatal, the vessel's words spurred my resolve.
"…Heh, this'll be fun," Saber sneered.
With a roar like an engine igniting, she unleashed a ferocious barrage of holy sword strikes, propelled by vicious, high-speed thrusts.
"Guh, ooooh!"
Countless clashes sparked. One, two, three—in a blink, deadly blows exchanged endlessly. In this lethal dance, gold and black collided, their force a tempest sweeping the area, shaking earth and sky.
"Amazing! They're evenly matched! What a deft king! If he weren't so arrogant, he'd shine!" Roman exclaimed, oddly casual with the King of Heroes.
"Incredible, Senpai! Gilgamesh, an Archer, is holding his own against Saber's Arthur!" Mash gasped.
"Yeah…! Gil can do anything!" Ritsuka cheered, their excitement uncontained by the spectacle.
"Please, win—!" Olga Marie watched, breathless.
Amidst them, one warrior observed calmly.
"Get ready, kid," Cú Chulainn said suddenly.
"Huh?" Ritsuka replied, startled.
"For the next fight."
"—He's gonna lose, that Goldie."
"What?"
Calling it a nameless blunder might be inaccurate. I hadn't fully adapted to this body's combat style, true. But the opponent I chose to hone it against was far too specialized in close combat.
"What do you mean, Gilgamesh will lose?!" Ritsuka demanded.
"Exactly what I said. He's an Archer; she's a Swordsman. She closed the distance advantage in one move," Cú Chulainn explained.
"But he's holding her off!"
"He's parrying, sure, but that's it. At that range, he can't deploy his Noble Phantasm or switch weapons. He rarely fights up close—why would he? Shooting's enough."
Cú Chulainn's cold analysis, born of a veteran's instinct, laid bare the battle's truth.
"He's being worn down. She'll overpower him eventually. At that range, she won't give him a chance to use his tricks or swap weapons. That's who Saber is now."
"His head'll come off soon, that Goldie's."
"No way—"
The words felt like an alien tongue, rejected by ears and heart. Lose? Gil?
The haughty yet kind, fearsome yet caring King of Heroes—lose?
If he loses, he'll vanish. That opponent shows no mercy. Memories of our meeting flooded back.
"You are…"
"No, I want to know."
The first Servant I summoned besides Mash. The playful king who eased my nerves with a jest during summoning. Terrifying at first, but he protected Mash and me, clueless as we were. He defeated Servants alone to keep us safe. No matter how pathetic I was, he never abandoned me—a fearsome, kind king.
Gone? Never to meet again? Truly? Forever?
Could I summon him again? Would it be this Gil? Or a stranger?
No. I don't want that.
"…No way."
I don't love the King of Heroes or the Servant. None of that matters.
"…No way…"
He answered my summons.
He encouraged Mash.
He praised the Director.
He gave us candy so we could bond.
I love this Gil, here and now.
What does it matter if I can summon another?
A new one isn't my Gil, the one I want to stand beside!
"This Gil, who fought with us, is the one I need!"
"Aaah!" Mash's scream pierced the air.
The final clang of steel rang out.
"—Ah."
Gil's Noble Phantasm shattered.
"—!"
Saber's counterstrike tore through Gilgamesh.
"—GIL—!"
Not arrogance, but overconfidence.
I thought I could assess myself in battle, refine my style later.
A naïve, human assumption.
My upper body held, but my armor was shattered, hair drooping from the impact.
"Whether it was arrogance or not, I'll call it foolish. Thinking swordplay could rival Britannia's Red Dragon was your mistake," Saber said coldly.
"Tch… I let myself get carried away. Too much play," I muttered.
"A noble confession, if lackluster. Those your final words?"
I'm impressed. No curses, no bravado—just shouldering the blame.
I misjudged this time.
I lost the moment I took up the sword. The moment she closed in. The moment it became a swordfight.
There was a dullness in me. That's the cause.
The vessel performed admirably, parrying such blows. But I failed to seize victory. That's all.
"Now, I'll take your head. Don't waver, King of Heroes."
"…"
Resign here?
My soul trembled.
End here?
My soul quaked.
Vanish here…?
My soul—
"No."
"Here's where I get serious!"
My soul—ignited.
"!?"
Saber sensed something amiss as her sword descended.
"This—!"
"Hah! My ultimate secret! The supreme treasure that grants victory in dire moments!"
Chains—silver chains, tightly binding her right hand. The King of Heroes' final weapon.
"Time to shine, Chains of Heaven!"
In an instant, I drew the demonic sword, the dragon-slaying archetype, again.
"Guh—!"
That momentary pause was her downfall. The sword pierced her armor, her mana, plunging deep into her body.
"Fool! Did you think I'd accept defeat so easily? A king must be the toughest of all! Dying of overwork? Unthinkable!" I laughed.
"You—!" Saber growled.
"Your long-winded lecture was your mistake, Saber! Licking your lips before the prey? Utter folly! My shattered armor's a pity, but as long as my body remains, it's trivial—now, my counterattack!"
Five golden ripples rippled in the air.
"Feast on this! The true essence of an Archer!"
Swords and spears fired at sonic speed, piercing Saber's limbs one by one.
"Ghh—!"
Her resilience, befitting a dragon, held despite her wounds. She broke the chains, retreating in an instant.
So what if I'm cut?
Compared to the powerlessness I once felt, this is nothing.
So what if I'm wounded?
Compared to that past emptiness, this is trivial.
Yes. This soul has only just begun to walk.
To do what must be done.
To leave meaning in my life.
If I fretted over every wound—
"Behold! The pinnacle of an Archer! The unparalleled strike only I am permitted!"
Golden ripples surged—ten, twenty, thirty, fifty, a hundred, encircling Saber from all directions.
Above all—for myself, housed in this vessel, the King of Heroes!
"Gate of Babylon—King's Treasury!"
I won't let myself down!
"—!"
Swords, axes, spears, halberds—every weapon rained upon Saber. An inexhaustible barrage of supreme projectiles, a merciless carpet bombing. This time, every weapon was handpicked for dragon-slaying.
Learning from my earlier failure, I meticulously selected each while the vessel roared. If the king's shots are reckless, I'll choose the bullets.
A chaotic barrage, each lethal and tailored to the foe, becomes a supreme strike blending quality and quantity.
The King's arrogance and my caution combined—an inexhaustible, lethal assault.
Here, the Noble Phantasm Gate of Babylon was fully unleashed.
Sensing her spiritual core shatter through the dissipating mana, I halted the barrage.
Her body, pierced by countless weapons, stood defiant like an unsinkable ship, glaring at me.
"…I could've deflected wasteful throws, but a full arsenal of dragon-slaying weapons leaves me no choice," Saber said quietly.
"Consider it my parting gift. Without those distractions, your strikes could've ended me."
"You'll understand in time, King of Heroes."
"The journey for the Holy Grail—the Grand Order—has only begun."
"—"
Before I could ask, the black Knight King vanished.
…She was strong. She, too, was a hero who forged my soul.
Gratitude to her soul. May we meet again in another form.
Sorry for the length!
Oh! (Erki) Friend—!