The battlefield pulses with fervor as Chaldea's warriors carve through the chaos, forging bonds and proving their mettle in a Rome ablaze with conflict.
"Lord Karna, Lord Arash. My thanks for joining my trash-pickup brigade."
"Well, better than twiddling thumbs. My clairvoyance spots even the sneakiest litter."
"I'm used to cleaning. Jinako—my former Master—rubbed off on me."
"With this crew, no litter or illegal dumping stands a chance. For Chaldea's cleanliness, let's give it our all!"
This is our stage!
"Yaaaah!"
Mash roars with spirit, her shield blasting soldiers away. She swings it like a blade, mowing down foes, charging fearlessly into the fray.
"Impressive, shield maiden! Wielding a shield your size with such valor—splendid!"
"T-Thank… ngh!"
Mash is hemmed in, swarmed by soldiers, locked in a brutal push.
"Haaaah!"
Planting her feet, she digs in, shoving back the horde—!
"Hold fast!"
Stepping on her shoulder, Nero leaps skyward, twisting midair.
"This flower is mine! You rabble won't touch it!"
Spinning, her crimson sword slashes through the masses, cleaving all in her path!
Her form, a blooming rose—
Mash catches her breath, mesmerized, but there's no time for awe.
"Your name?"
"Mash! Mash Kyrielight!"
"Good, Mash! You're the shield, I'm the sword! Push them back—follow me!"
"Yes—!"
Crimson and violet blaze across the battlefield—!
"Damn it…!"
Jeanne grits her teeth, pushed back by soldiers.
To struggle against such riffraff—!
She knows she's a makeshift Servant, summoned by a cheat, far from qualified.
But to be this weak, unable to cut down mere grunts…!
"Such… humiliation—!"
This is bad—she's in danger…!
"Instant Boost! Jeanne, let 'em have it!"
The Master's support surges power into Jeanne!
"Master—oooh!"
Her flag ignites, sweeping the swarming soldiers away in one blazing strike!
"You okay!?"
"Of course I am!" Jeanne snaps.
"This is nothing to me—!"
More hatred, more rage!
That's the core of her being!
"Watch, Master! I'll burn and burn and burn them to ashes!"
"Yeah, I'm watching!"
"I'll prove it—that you didn't make a mistake choosing me!"
Black and white blades tear through the enemy ranks!
"750th!"
"What, just that? Take this, and this, and this!"
A crimson spear streaks, piercing through the rabble!
"I've got at least 1500!"
"Don't fudge the numbers, Cú Chulainn! I counted—820!"
"You're seriously keeping score!?"
"Hah! Scrabbling like field hands—pathetic! Hunting is done in one grand sweep—fire!"
Target: 920. Treasures loaded!
Take this, the gorgeous Archer-style ultimate tactic—!
"'Gate of—Babylon'!"
Countless noble phantasms rain from the sky, piercing and culling the masses!
"Whoa!"
"Tch!"
Cú Chulainn and Emiya barely dodge the barrage.
"Bwahahaha! See that, mutt and faker? Kneel and worship! This is true royal devastation!"
Taunting, he selects treasures for speed and momentum.
The enemy's numerous—prioritize rapid-fire over power.
Explosive treasures could work, but with allies nearby, that's nonsense.
"That was close, you jerk!"
"Hmph, still quick on your feet."
"Watch it, Lancer! His aim's sharper than the Hero King we know. One slip, and you're done!"
"Sharp aim!? You fixed your garbage aim!?"
"Fool! I was toying with you before! Know that the real me never misses—!"
Next treasures loaded. Scatter them all—!
"Alright then—I'll show you how a Celt wields a spear!"
Cú Chulainn leaps, every muscle taut, drawing back his lance—!
"Wide-range noble phantasm? I've got one too—!"
Emiya leaps, nocking a spiraling sword, loosing it—!
"My core twists into madness—!"
"Hah! I won't let you claim the prize!"
Cutting the Master's mana link, he acts solo, unleashing treasures with his own power—!
"You'll witness my radiance—'Gate of'—"
"No you don't! 'Piercing'—"
"'False—'!"
Three noble phantasms blast toward the enemy army—!
"'Babylon'—!"
"'Death Flight'—!"
"'Spiral Sword'—!"
Golden treasures, crimson thorns, and a fated spiral sword crash into the enemy—!
Treasure recovery, activate—!
A massive explosion, a deafening roar. The earth craters, rocks fly, the air trembles.
Where they struck, nothing remains.
A colossal crater, like a meteor's scar, tells the tale of destruction.
"Bwahaha! Faker, mutt—this victory's mine! One look at this carnage, clearer than any flame!"
He laughs, reclaiming his treasures.
"Don't get cocky! My spear blew them all away!"
Cú Chulainn grips Gáe Bolg as it flies back, roaring.
"Your premise is flawed. In a scored battle, blowing up the board ruins the game."
Final tally: Hero King 1854, Cú Chulainn 1752, Emiya 1732. Counted during recovery.
Field's gone, so call it a draw. The gap's negligible.
"Hey, the enemy's retreating. Guess they know they're outmatched."
Cú Chulainn calls out.
"No Servants among them. More fighting's just pointless slaughter."
"Hmph, child's play. Want to challenge me? Bring a nation."
"You've gotten a bit better, huh? Might actually be a fun fight."
"Still barking, mad dog? Fine, I'll allow it. Lose, and I'll pickle you in mapo tofu."
"Don't waste food. If I make it, you're eating every bite."
"…My mouth's burning just thinking about it…"
For now, the enemy's been repelled.
How's the other side faring?
"Enough! The battle's decided! Sheathe your blades and retreat!"
Nero's voice thunders across the field.
"No more needless sacrifice! I, Rome, won't flee! I'll face any challenge, any invasion! Tell that to your false alliance!"
"Haa… haa…"
"You held strong, Mash. I owe you."
"Yes… yes…"
"Rest now. I'll thank you properly soon."
"All done! Great work, Jeanne!"
Rikka calls to Jeanne, who leans on her flag for support.
"Great work? Are you mocking me!? This pathetic display, lagging behind even small fry!"
"Mocking? Why?"
"Why!?"
"You won, Jeanne. I saw it. You're still here."
"—"
"Thanks, Jeanne! You were awesome!"
Rikka grins, offering a shoulder.
"You okay? Rest up back at Chaldea, alright?"
"—"
This Master…
"Watch me, Master… This isn't all I've got…!"
"Yeah."
"I'll get stronger, I swear…!"
"Yup."
"I'll turn this humiliation into strength…!"
"Yup! Mash and I are half-baked too, so let's all keep at it!"
"—!"
This Master, really…
"Thanks to you all, I'm saved! Are you Boudica's reinforcements? Chaldea, was it? Never heard that name."
Nero voices her questions as they regroup.
"Roman, explain."
["Sure! We're—"]
"No need for that now! First, my thanks!"
["Didn't even let me explain…"]
["It's me! I'm—mmph! Jeanne, what're you—mmph!"]
["Stay, Nero-san, stay!"]
"? Voices? No matter! All questions will be answered in my Rome!"
My Rome—no mistaking it.
"I am Rome! Rome is me! Sworn to the divine ancestors, the emperors, and myself to reclaim the true Rome!"
Spinning her rose, the Floral Emperor declares her true name—
"I am Nero Claudius! Fifth Emperor of Rome!"
["So cool, me~!"]
"Pickles are great. On cold rice for chazuke, or solo. Even raw's good."
"Listen, pickles. With pickles, you're set—eat pickles. Got it?"
"Okay!"
"Takuan… such a curious ring to it…"
"Stay, stay, Hijikata-san! Don't warp kids' tastes!"
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