Although startled by Tristan's sudden attack, upon realizing his strike had no effect, Hassan of the Intoxicated Smoke and the refugees instantly felt a surge of relief. Without missing a beat, they broke into a dead sprint.
Buffed by the Runes, each of them ran like mini-superhumans, disappearing from sight in no time.
"Do not think about escaping, Sir Tristan. You should be able to sense it—it is impossible for you to escape from my hands."
Waiting quietly for the refugees to evacuate, Takumi's eyes betrayed a hint of exhaustion, yet his tone was exceptionally icy and resolute.
"If you truly intend to run, at least send three Knights of the Round Table at me, you bastard..."
It was an incredibly arrogant statement, but the current Takumi possessed the absolute confidence to back it up: Anyone less than three Knights of the Round Table attacking together will die!
Hearing this, Tristan's expression soured. However, he had to admit that even without officially crossing swords yet, the sheer sense of lethal danger radiating from Takumi was unparalleled by any of his colleagues.
Especially this suffocating feeling that even a moment's lapse in concentration would result in instant death... it was truly unheard of.
Tristan took a deep breath and said:
"...Master from the Observatory, I have heard our King speak of your existence."
"If our King is not mistaken, this land we currently stand upon is the sixth erroneous era you have arrived at, correct?"
"That's right," Takumi replied flatly.
"Then you should know better than anyone how arduous your journey has been. Take your right hand, for example. I imagine it wasn't always like that from the start, was it?"
As he spoke, Tristan "looked" toward Takumi's arm.
In his unique vision, Takumi's right hand was entirely different from the rest of his body—devoid of vitality and icy cold to the senses.
Takumi glanced down at his newly projected prosthetic arm but remained silent.
Tristan took Takumi's silence as confirmation. Able to "see" the sheer exhaustion hidden beneath that cluster of flames, his tone grew somewhat earnest, almost like he was offering bitter advice:
"The path you are walking now will only grow far more treacherous than it already is. Especially against that entity whom even Our King is wary of... do you truly believe a human can defeat it..."
"So you just gave up?"
Takumi suddenly fired back, cutting Tristan off. He stared at the Knight with calm, unwavering eyes:
"So, as Heroic Spirits of humanity, you just gave up—even when a living person like me hasn't?"
When all was said and done, Takumi was just an "outsider" from another world. For the Heroic Spirits of this world to unilaterally surrender when even an "outsider" hadn't given up yet—wasn't that just a bit too pathetic?
Tristan fell silent.
"...We act upon the orders of Our King, acknowledge Our King's ideals, and execute Our King's will. In our eyes, the answer provided by Our King is already the best and most appropriate answer."
As Tristan spoke, his fingers had already come to rest upon the demonic string.
Negotiations had broken down—or rather, they were doomed from the start. Reflected in the light of the [Heart of Fire], both clearly understood the other's intent. Takumi couldn't lie, and neither could Tristan.
"Would you say there's any chance of me convincing you to lay down your weapon and join my side?" Takumi asked, already knowing the answer.
—Fiery Runes began to materialize and swirl around his body.
"Impossible. We have resolved never to betray Our King."
Magical energy slowly channeled down Tristan's fingers and into the demonic bowstring.
"Hah. Figures. Words are just powerless like that. After all, if everything could be solved by talking, what would be the point of swords?"
Takumi chuckled softly.
The moment the words left his mouth, Takumi's tone turned freezing cold. He locked his eyes onto Tristan ahead of him:
"—Since that's the case, you can die right here!"
Countless fiery Runes swarmed onto his prosthetic arm like a hurricane, dyeing it a translucent, blazing crimson. The air warped violently from the sheer heat, and the prosthetic itself began to physically deform under the terrifying temperatures.
Without a second of hesitation, Takumi moved, charging at Tristan with his "Fist of Fire" raised high.
In that exact same instant, Tristan plucked the demonic string. Over a dozen invisible threads silently slashed toward Takumi, forming an inescapable net across his path.
Takumi's expression didn't change. Using his arm as a sword, he swung it rapidly through the air. The superheated, flame-wreathed prosthetic melted right through the otherwise indestructible threads one by one.
CLANG!
Simultaneously, the soul-striking sound of a hammering forge abruptly echoed out. Tristan, who had been preparing his next move, felt his heart skip a beat. His hands faltered, and his brow furrowed deeply in sudden discomfort.
CLANG!
CLANG!
The hammering echoed three times. Driven by the rapid, rhythmic strikes, the distance between the two plummeted from thirty meters, to twenty, to ten—
In Tristan's pitch-black "vision," he could only perceive the sparks of a "forge" scattering three times. And illuminated by those sparks, Takumi's cold, unfeeling face closed in like a flickering phantom.
So fast...
Having only managed to launch a single attack from start to finish, Tristan found Takumi completely in his guard.
[Molten Iron Sure-Hit: No Second Strike Flying Fist]!
Pshhh—!
A searing, blindingly bright flame erupted from the center of Tristan's back, shooting diagonally into the sky several meters high like a geyser of fire.
Takumi and Tristan dashed past each other. A massive chunk of Takumi's right prosthetic had completely vanished, leaving only a stump dripping molten iron.
Tristan froze in place. Takumi took a few more steps before coming to a halt. In his peripheral vision, the still-glowing, scorching drops of molten iron fell naturally from mid-air.
And right in the center of the paralyzed Tristan's chest was a charred, gaping hole slightly larger than an adult's arm.
Tristan — Exit!
Glancing at the rapidly cooling molten iron splattering on the ground, Takumi let out an imperceptible sigh. He detached the small stump of the prosthetic remaining on his shoulder and immediately projected a new one.
Still lacking a bit...
Flexing the newly projected arm, Takumi placed a hand over his heart. Feeling the flame burning within it, a flash of exhaustion mixed with intense anticipation crossed his eyes.
He could feel it. Thanks to his constant battles recently, along with the massive contribution of Rama's shattered Spirit Origin, the two Noble Phantasms being forged within the [Heart of Fire] were nearing completion. Moreover, the true awakening of the [Heart of Fire] itself was very close.
He just didn't know when the forging and awakening would finally be complete, or if it would be in time for the climax of this Singularity...
Exhaling deeply, Takumi calmed his breathing—which had grown somewhat ragged from his manic high-speed sprint—and continued rushing toward the epicenter where the "Holy Judgment" had fallen.
That location had always been his true destination. Running into Tristan and killing him was just a convenient coincidence along the way.
To Takumi, the distance from here to the village of the People of the Mountains wasn't far at all. Moving at top speed, he arrived at the center of the village in mere moments.
The village consisted of ordinary earthen houses scattered haphazardly across the mountain valley. Numerous people could be seen emerging from various corners and shelters, wearing the expressions of those who had just narrowly survived a catastrophe.
Miraculously, the buildings in the village hadn't sustained any catastrophic damage, and there were no casualties in sight. It looked as though they had merely weathered a severe typhoon.
Was it because the Lion King launched a pinpoint precision strike, and Arash had no choice but to deploy his Noble Phantasm to intercept it?
Surveying the state of the village, Takumi pondered thoughtfully.
Otherwise, there was no logical explanation for the use of [Stella] just now, nor for the village remaining in such a pristine state.