The southern territories of Victoria burned under an artificial sun.
Lemuen stood atop a fortified position overlooking the battlefield, her expression calm despite the catastrophic violence unfolding below. The former Notarial Hall director had seen warfare before, had commanded operations across multiple theaters, but nothing in her experience prepared her for this.
Fighting against divine authority required accepting that conventional tactics meant nothing.
Executor stood to her left, his distinctive appearance marking him clearly even at this distance. The weapon, a massive specialized firearm that doubled as close combat tool, rested ready against his shoulder. The Sankta warrior had fought in dozens of operations, eliminated countless targets with clinical precision, but their usual confidence showed cracks when facing what approached.
Virtuosa occupied Lemuen's right, the Liberi woman's Arts already manifesting in preparation for combat. Musical notation appeared in the air around her, reality bending to accommodate her unique abilities. Her expression carried determination mixed with barely concealed fear.
They had liberated three garrison posts in two days, freed hundreds of civilians from Victorian occupation, and disrupted supply lines with devastating efficiency. The operation had been proceeding ahead of schedule.
Then the Knights of the Round Table arrived.
"Four of them."
Lemuen observed, her tactical mind processing what her eyes confirmed.
"Summoned by the Lion King herself, not merely Victorian soldiers equipped with Arts."
The approaching figures moved with purpose across the scorched landscape, their armor gleaming with holy radiance that made them visible for kilometers. Each carried weapons that radiated power matching their divine nature, Noble Phantasms made manifest through Artoria's authority.
"I recognize their configurations from intelligence reports."
Executor said, their voice carrying its usual measured tone despite the circumstances.
"Mordred, the Knight of Treachery. Gawain, the Knight of the Sun. Lancelot, the Knight of the Lake. And Galahad, the protector Knight."
They checked their ammunition, specialized Laterano rounds designed to pierce Arts barriers and disrupt magical constructs.
"Standard doctrine suggests strategic withdrawal when facing opponents with this level of capability."
"Standard doctrine assumed conventional enemies."
Lemuen replied, her own weapon materializing through her Arts.
"These are legend made flesh, powered by divine authority that conquered an entire nation in three days. Retreat simply delays the inevitable confrontation."
She activated her communication device.
"All units, fall back to secondary positions. Establish defensive perimeters around civilian evacuation routes. The command element will engage hostile forces directly to buy time."
Protests came through immediately, other Executors and support personnel objecting to leaving their commander exposed.
"That's an order."
Lemuen's tone carried finality that ended debate.
"Your priority is protecting the civilians we liberated. We will handle the Knights."
She closed the channel and turned to her companions.
"Executor, your marksmanship is exceptional. Focus on Gawain, he's empowered by sunlight and will be strongest during daytime. Disrupting his concentration might reduce his effectiveness."
"Understood."
"Virtuosa, your Arts manipulation can interfere with Noble Phantasm activation. Target Lancelot, prevent him from deploying his full capabilities."
"I'll do my best."
The Liberi woman's musical notation intensified, complex harmonies building power.
"I will engage Mordred and Galahad simultaneously."
Lemuen stated, her own Arts manifesting fully.
Light gathered around her, Sankta heritage granting affinity with radiance and precision that matched her tactical brilliance. Her weapon, a masterwork created specifically for her specifications, hummed with power as she charged it through her Arts.
"Our objective is not victory. We cannot defeat divine summons in direct combat. Our objective is buying enough time for civilian evacuation, then conducting organized retreat. Understood?"
Both Executor and Virtuosa acknowledged, their expressions showing determination despite understanding the impossible nature of what they faced.
The Knights closed distance rapidly, their movement speed exceeding normal physical limits. Within moments, they had covered the kilometer separating them from Lemuen's position and began their assault.
Mordred led the charge, her distinctive red and silver armor blazing with violent energy. The Knight of Treachery wielded Clarent, the stolen sword that had ended King Arthur's reign, and her expression carried feral aggression barely constrained by tactical discipline.
"Sankta scum!"
She called out, her voice carrying gleeful malice.
"The Lion King sends her regards! Surrender now and your deaths will be quick!"
"We decline."
Lemuen responded calmly, raising her weapon.
The first exchange happened at speeds that normal observers would struggle to track. Lemuen fired three precisely aimed shots, each round targeting vulnerable points in Mordred's armor that intelligence had identified. The Sankta's marksmanship was perfect, bullets following trajectories that should have guaranteed impact.
Mordred batted them aside with casual contempt, Clarent moving through precise arcs that intercepted each projectile before they could reach her. The sword's edge glowed with power, each deflection creating small detonations as Arts met Noble Phantasm.
"You'll have to do better than that!"
Mordred closed the remaining distance in a single bound, Clarent swinging toward Lemuen's position with force that would shatter stone.
Lemuen activated her movement Arts, light bending around her as she displaced to a different position. The attack missed by centimeters, Clarent's edge carving through the fortification like it was paper.
Executor engaged Gawain from range, their specialized weapon unleashing a barrage that would have suppressed an entire platoon. Each round was blessed, enhanced through Laterano's unique methods, capable of disrupting Arts and penetrating barriers.
Gawain didn't bother dodging.
The Knight of the Sun stood in the open, his armor absorbing impacts without visible damage. Sunlight gathered around him, his Noble Phantasm Numeral of the Saint activating automatically. During daytime, his power tripled, making him functionally invincible against conventional attacks.
"Your weapons are impressive."
Gawain observed, his voice carrying knightly courtesy despite the violence.
"But mortal craft cannot harm those blessed by the Lion King's authority. Surrender honorably and I will ensure your end is painless."
"I appreciate the offer."
Executor replied, reloading with practiced efficiency.
"But Executors don't surrender. We complete our mission or we die trying."
They switched ammunition types, loading rounds designed specifically for piercing divine protection. Experimental technology that Laterano's finest gunsmiths had developed for exactly this kind of opponent.
The next volley was different. Each round carried enchantments that disrupted the flow of divine energy, targeting the connection between Gawain and the sunlight empowering him.
The Knight of the Sun actually stepped back slightly, his expression showing surprise as the attacks forced him to actively defend. His sword, Excalibur Galatine, materialized fully as he deflected the enhanced rounds.
"Interesting. You possess weapons that can actually threaten me."
His courtesy shifted to genuine respect.
"Then I shall honor you with my full attention."
Galatine blazed with solar fire, the sword releasing waves of heat that distorted air itself. Gawain moved forward with renewed aggression, his enhanced strength allowing him to close distance despite Executor's continuous fire.
Virtuosa engaged Lancelot while simultaneously providing support to her allies, her unique Arts allowing her to affect multiple targets through carefully constructed harmonies.
Musical notation manifested as visible reality distortion, each note carrying specific effects that interfered with Arts and disrupted concentration. She targeted Lancelot specifically, knowing that the Knight of the Lake's combat style relied on flawless technique and perfect timing.
Lancelot moved through her interference with grace that bordered on precognitive, his sword wielding style adapted from countless battles making him nearly impossible to predict. He carried Arondight, the unfading light of the lake, a blade that grew stronger as he fought with honor.
"Your Arts are sophisticated."
Lancelot observed, his tone carrying professional assessment rather than mockery.
"Targeting my concentration, attempting to disrupt my rhythm. A sound strategy against a technique focused combatant."
He adjusted his approach, incorporating defensive movements that minimized exposure to Virtuosa's disruption.
"But I have fought Arts users before. Mages, sorcerers, reality warpers of every description. Your musical manipulation is creative but ultimately predictable."
Virtuosa intensified her output, complex harmonies layering upon each other to create effects that should have been impossible to navigate. Reality itself bent around the musical notation, physics becoming negotiable within the sphere of her influence.
Lancelot moved through it anyway, his perfect technique allowing him to find paths through chaos that shouldn't exist. Arondight traced elegant arcs, each swing releasing focused energy that disrupted her Arts constructs.
"I apologize."
He said, genuine regret in his voice as he closed distance.
"You fight with admirable skill and creativity. But you stand against knights summoned by divine authority. The outcome was decided before the battle began."
Galahad engaged Lemuen directly, and the contrast between them was striking. Where Mordred fought with aggressive fury and Gawain with empowered strength, Galahad moved with absolute defensive maneuver. Every step placed precisely, every action calculated for maximum efficiency, every defense positioned to protect while creating offensive opportunities.
He wielded Lord Camelot, a shield rather than sword, the crystallization of the Round Table's legend itself. It was the perfect defense, capable of blocking any attack as long as the wielder's will remained unbroken.
"You fight to protect the innocent."
Galahad stated, his voice carrying the certainty of one who understood righteousness completely.
"That is commendable. But you oppose the Lion King's divine authority, and that cannot be permitted."
Lemuen's tactical brilliance meant nothing against perfect defense. She fired from multiple angles simultaneously, using Arts to bend light and create impossible trajectories. Each shot should have found gaps in Galahad's protection.
Lord Camelot blocked everything. The shield existed wherever attack would land, physics bending to ensure its defensive coverage remained absolute.
"You cannot win this battle."
Galahad continued, advancing steadily.
"Your skills are exceptional, your dedication admirable, your cause understandable. But conviction alone does not overcome divine mandate."
The battle escalated as the Knights fully committed to eliminating their opponents.
Mordred unleashed Clarent Blood Arthur, her Noble Phantasm's true form. The stolen sword blazed with crimson energy, her rebellion against King Arthur made manifest as destructive force. She swung toward Lemuen's position with power that would level city blocks.
Lemuen activated her defensive Arts milliseconds before impact, light solidifying into barriers that absorbed the initial shockwave. But Clarent's power was designed to shatter protection, each subsequent wave breaking through layer after layer.
She displaced again, moving to a different position while her barriers collapsed behind her. The fortification they had been defending disintegrated, stone and metal vaporized by divine wrath.
Gawain activated Excalibur Galatine's full release, solar fire gathering into a beam that would incinerate everything in its path. The Knight of the Sun aimed toward Executor's position with perfect calculation, giving them no room to dodge.
Executor's response was immediate. They deployed their own defensive Arts, Sankta heritage granting affinity with light that let them create barriers from hardened radiance. Simultaneously, they fired a specialized round designed to create electromagnetic interference.
The round detonated before Galatine's beam released, creating a pulse that disrupted divine energy flow. The attack launched anyway but its trajectory shifted slightly, the beam carving through empty space rather than Executor's position.
Gawain looked genuinely impressed.
"You disrupted a Noble Phantasm's activation. That requires understanding of divine mechanics that few mortals possess."
He adjusted his grip on Galatine.
"I shall not make that mistake again."
Lancelot and Virtuosa's engagement had become a deadly dance, the Knight weaving through her Arts disruption while she desperately maintained effects that would slow him even slightly. Musical notation filled the entire battlefield around them, reality bending to her will.
But Lancelot's technique was flawless. For every disruption she created, he found a counter. For every reality distortion she manifested, he discovered the path through. Arondight's edge carved through her constructs with precision that made it look effortless.
"You're tiring."
Lancelot observed, his tone carrying concern rather than satisfaction.
"Maintaining this level of Arts output is unsustainable. Your reserves are depleting."
Virtuosa knew he was right. Her breathing had become labored, sweat visible despite the cool air. Arts usage on this scale drained stamina rapidly, and she had been fighting continuously for hours before the Knights even arrived.
"Then I'd better make it count."
She released everything remaining in a single overwhelming burst, musical notation becoming visible reality distortion that affected fundamental physics. Gravity shifted, time dilated, space compressed, all simultaneously within the sphere of her influence.
Lancelot paused for the first time, forced to fully commit to defense as reality itself rebelled around him. Arondight blazed with power as he carved safe space through chaos, but even his perfect technique struggled against effects this extreme.
It bought Virtuosa precious seconds to create distance and catch her breath.
Galahad continued his methodical advance on Lemuen, Lord Camelot absorbing every attack she threw at him. Her ammunition was depleting, her Arts reserves running low, and still the Perfect Knight came forward with inexorable certainty.
"You cannot sustain this indefinitely."
Galahad stated, his assessment tactically accurate.
"Your allies weaken, your position deteriorates, and reinforcements cannot arrive in time. Accept defeat with dignity and I promise your deaths will be honorable."
"Honor means nothing if innocents die."
Lemuen replied, loading her final specialized rounds.
"I would sacrifice pride, dignity, honor itself if it meant protecting those who cannot protect themselves."
"Then we are not so different."
Galahad acknowledged.
"I too fight to protect. But my protection serves the Lion King's divine order, which will bring stability to all of Terra through absolute authority."
"Stability through conquest. Peace through subjugation. You describe tyranny wearing righteousness as a mask."
"Perhaps. But it is the tyranny that prevails."
Lord Camelot blazed with light as Galahad prepared to end the engagement.
The Knights coordinated their final assault with precision that demonstrated centuries of experience fighting together. They had been testing their opponents until now, measuring capabilities and confirming threat assessment.
Testing was complete. Elimination began.
Mordred's Clarent erupted with maximum output, Clarent Blood Arthur releasing in a sustained beam rather than single strike. The crimson energy carved toward Lemuen's position from one angle.
Gawain's Excalibur Galatine answered from another direction, solar fire converging with Mordred's attack to create a killing zone with no escape.
Lancelot abandoned defense entirely, Arondight moving with speed that surpassed visual tracking as he closed distance on Virtuosa. The unfading light carved through her remaining Arts constructs like they were paper.
Galahad positioned himself to intercept any attempt at retreat, Lord Camelot ensuring that escape routes remained sealed.
It was coordinated execution, divine authority applied with tactical perfection. The kind of attack that had ended armies and conquered nations.
Lemuen, Executor, and Virtuosa all understood simultaneously that they had reached their limit.
Death approached with absolute certainty.
Then time stopped.
Not slowed. Not distorted. Completely frozen, physics becoming negotiable as an unknown Arts user imposed their will on reality itself.
The Knights halted mid motion, Clarent's beam suspended in space like crimson sculpture. Galatine's fire became a static painting of destruction. Lancelot froze with Arondight centimeters from Virtuosa's throat. Galahad locked in perfect defensive stance.
A figure appeared between the Knights and their targets, materializing through temporal distortion that suggested mastery of time manipulation Arts.
Mostima.
The Sankta woman's distinctive appearance was unmistakable. Blue hair with blue eyes and most notably the black halo that marked her as Fallen. Her staff, wrapped in chains and radiating temporal energy, hummed with the power required to freeze four divine summons simultaneously.
"Well, this is troublesome."
She said, her tone carrying the casual irreverence that defined her personality.
"Fighting Knights of the Round Table without proper preparation. Someone's been ambitious with their operations."
Lemuen stared at the impossible sight, her tactical mind struggling to process what had happened.
"Mostima. You're supposed to be in Laterano, defending the Curia."
"I was. Got bored. Decided to check on the southern territories."
Mostima moved between the frozen Knights with apparent unconcern, examining them with professional interest.
"Good thing too, or you three would be decorating the landscape right about now."
She tapped Mordred's suspended form with her staff.
"Cute armor. Shame about the personality I'm sure matches it."
"How long can you maintain this?"
Executor asked, their pragmatic nature cutting through shock.
"Not long. Freezing four divine summons isn't exactly light work."
Mostima's expression became more serious.
"Maybe thirty seconds before they break through my temporal lock. We need to leave, now."
She gestured with her staff and portals manifested, temporal gateways leading to locations far from the current battlefield.
"Through there. Don't waste time asking questions."
Virtuosa was the first to move, her exhaustion overcome by survival instinct. She stumbled through the nearest portal and disappeared.
Executor followed immediately after, their training recognizing opportunity when presented.
Lemuen hesitated, looking back at the civilians they had been protecting.
"They're already evacuated."
Mostima said, anticipating the concern.
"Your other operator teams got them clear while you were buying time. Everyone's safe except you three who stayed behind to play heroes."
She made a shooing motion.
"Now move before I have to leave you here."
Lemuen went through the portal, tactical discipline overriding her desire to verify civilian safety personally.
Mostima prepared to follow, then paused. She looked at the frozen Knights, divine authority made manifest, legends bound in temporal stasis.
"You know."
She said to them, knowing they couldn't hear but speaking anyway.
"The Lion King might have divine authority and legendary heroes, but she's forgotten something important. Time always wins eventually. Empires fall, gods fade, and legends become stories."
Her temporal lock was beginning to crack, hairline fractures appearing in the freeze effect.
"See you around, knights. Try not to massacre too many innocents while conquering the world."
She stepped through the final portal just as time resumed.
The Knights crashed back into motion, their attacks finding only empty space. Clarent's beam carved through abandoned fortifications. Galatine's fire scorched earth already devoid of targets. Lancelot's blade cut air. Galahad's defense protected against nothing.
Mordred screamed in frustration, her violent nature unable to accept that prey had escaped.
"Where did they go?! Who dared interfere with our hunt?!"
"Temporal manipulation."
Galahad observed calmly, examining the residual Arts signature.
"Someone froze us in place for few seconds. Long enough for the targets to escape through prepared portals."
"That's impossible."
Gawain stated, though his tone carried doubt.
"We're empowered by the Lion King's divine authority. Time manipulation shouldn't affect us."
"It shouldn't."
Lancelot agreed, studying the battlefield with analytical precision.
"But it did. Which means whoever intervened possesses capabilities that exceed normal Arts limitations."
He sheathed Arondight, the battle concluded through intervention rather than victory.
"We should report this to the Lion King. She needs to know that opposition includes individuals who can counter divine authority, even temporarily."
Mordred was still fuming, her aggressive nature demanding violence that remained unsatisfied.
"We should hunt them down! Track wherever they escaped to and finish what we started!"
"Negative."
Galahad's tone carried command authority despite Mordred's higher combat power.
"Our mission was to eliminate resistance in this sector. The primary targets have fled, and pursuing them without intelligence about their destination or the mysterious interventionist would be tactically unsound."
He began walking back toward Victorian lines.
"We return, we report, we receive new orders. Discipline, Mordred. Remember what that means."
The Knight of Treachery glared at him but ultimately followed, her rebellion extending only so far when facing the Protector Knight's absolute loyalty.
Gawain and Lancelot accompanied them, all four Knights withdrawing from the battlefield they had dominated until a single Sankta woman had denied them victory.
Unknown Location
Lemuen, Executor, and Virtuosa emerged from temporal portals into what appeared to be a safehouse, the kind of anonymous location that intelligence operations used for debrief and recovery. Medical supplies waited on tables, along with food and water.
Mostima appeared last, her temporal Arts fading as she released the power that had saved their lives.
"Welcome to one of my hiding spots. It's not much but it's discrete and warded against tracking Arts."
She collapsed into a chair, exhaustion finally visible now that the crisis had passed.
"Freezing four divine summons simultaneously is officially not fun. Don't recommend it."
Lemuen approached her, expression mixing gratitude with suspicion.
"Why did you help us? Last I heard, you were operating independently, although you are secretly protecting the place, you are still avoiding both Laterano command and external obligations."
"I was. I am. Still independent, still avoiding obligations."
Mostima smiled slightly.
"But I draw the line at letting people get murdered by Knights of the Round Table when I can prevent it. Call it residual conscience from my Executor days."
She looked at the three of them, assessment clinical despite her casual demeanor.
"You should all be dead. Fighting divine summons with conventional Arts and weapons is suicide. Whatever you were trying to accomplish, it wasn't worth dying for."
"We were protecting civilians."
Virtuosa said quietly.
"Evacuating them from Victorian occupation. The Knights appeared before we could retreat."
"Then mission accomplished. Civilians are safe, you're alive, and the Knights learned that opposition exists who can counter them. I'd call that a successful operation."
Executor was checking their weapon, professional habits asserting despite exhaustion.
"You said you froze them for thirty seconds. That suggests your temporal manipulation has limits even against divine targets."
"Perceptive."
Mostima acknowledged.
"I can affect them but not indefinitely. They're empowered by the Lion King's authority, which means their resistance to Arts increases proportionally to her power. Given enough time, they would have broken through my freeze regardless of how much energy I poured into maintaining it."
She stood, moving to where supplies waited.
"Which is why we need to be very careful about future engagements. The Lion King has summoned four Knights already. She might summon more. And each one will be empowered beyond their normal legendary capabilities."
Lemuen's tactical mind was already processing implications.
"You have intelligence about the Lion King's capabilities. Information that Laterano command needs immediately."
"Probably. But I'm not exactly welcome in Laterano these days, what with the whole Fallen Sankta thing."
Mostima's tone was light but carried undertones of old pain.
"How about you deliver the intelligence for me? Tell them that divine summons can be temporarily countered but not permanently stopped. That time manipulation Arts work but only briefly. That the Knights coordinate perfectly and will adapt to any tactics we use against them."
She pulled out food and began distributing it.
"And tell them that opposing Victoria through conventional military force is guaranteed failure. We need something else, something that operates on the same level as divine authority."
"What does that even mean?"
Virtuosa asked.
"Gods, probably. Or entities who can match divine power through other means."
Mostima took a bite of bread, chewing thoughtfully.
"There are rumors about such entities gathering in places like Lungmen. Noble Phantasm wielders who aren't the Lion King, individuals from beyond Terra who possess impossible capabilities. If Laterano wants to survive Victoria's conquest, they need to find those entities and convince them to help."
She looked at Lemuen directly.
"That's above my pay grade though. I just do temporal manipulation and morally questionable favors. Grand strategy belongs to people like you."
The safehouse fell quiet as everyone processed what had happened. They had survived an encounter with divine summons through intervention rather than skill. The Knights would return, probably with additional forces and better preparation.
Terra was changing, conflicts escalating toward scales that exceeded anything historical precedent prepared them for.