"Huh…"
Shirou had no idea what was going on.
The Berserker of "Black," who had been rampaging only moments ago, was now clutching the hem of his shirt and looking up at him with pitiful eyes, like an abandoned little animal.
"Daddy…?"
"W-wait! I'm not your dad!"
Shirou hurriedly denied it, but Berserker's expression changed at once, her face crumpling as if she were about to cry.
"Uu… Daddy… are you abandoning me?"
"..."
Shirou's breath caught, and an inexplicable pain twisted through his heart.
That pure, innocent gaze reminded him of the little sister still waiting for him back home.
Against his better judgment, Shirou said, "No… I'm not…"
"Yay! Daddy accepted me! I love you the most, ehehe~"
The girl hugged Shirou and buried her face in his shoulder, nuzzling against him.
Incidentally, the Berserker of "Black" stood over 170 cm tall, a full head taller than Mordred.
Calling her a little animal had been the wrong comparison. If Mordred was a stray cat, then she was a large dog.
"..."
Shirou hesitated for a moment, then finally placed his hand on the Berserker of "Black"'s back, giving her that last bit of security.
Still somewhat numb, he began to think.
So… how did it even come to this?
How had Berserker, who could not even speak a minute ago, ended up like this?
Just then, something occurred to Shirou…
As the official electronics repairman for the Homurahara Academy High School Student Council, he understood it instantly.
This was actually a "circuit short-circuit" phenomenon.
Under the influence of the "Red" Caster's Illusion Arts, the electric-type girl had been pushed to the brink of collapse. At that moment, Shirou had used suggestion magic to forcibly intervene in her mind.
Berserker did not have Magic Resistance like Saber, but she was still a Servant. She was not someone a third-rate Magus could hypnotize with mere suggestion magic.
So Shirou had used a little trick.
The suggestion magic had not been applied directly to the girl. Instead, just like when using Projection Magecraft or Reinforcement Magecraft, he had interfered with the circuits inside Berserker's body.
The result was that, although the Berserker of "Black" regained her sanity, the effect seemed to have gone a little too far.
Not only could Berserker speak fluently, she had even come to regard Shirou, the one who had "fixed" her, as her father.
It was a miracle born from a string of coincidences.
If Shirou had not been the kind of Magus who could perceive the internal circuits of objects, Berserker certainly would never have turned out like this.
"I can't believe something like this happened…"
Although Shirou and the girl in the wedding dress both belonged to the "Black" faction, they were not truly on the same side.
The Master of the Berserker of "Black" was supposed to be a Magus from the Yggdmillennia family. She could not become his companion the way Mordred had.
So.
Shirou looked down at the Berserker girl nestled against him, completely defenseless, and a flicker of killing intent passed through his eyes.
Should he deal with her here? Before things got troublesome.
"Daddy? What's wrong?"
"Uh… nothing."
Shirou sighed and abandoned the thought as quickly as it had appeared.
"By the way, Berserk…"
"Fran."
"Hm? What?"
"Daddy can call me Fran."
The girl said it while blinking her sparkling heterochromatic eyes.
Shirou's mouth twitched. "I-is that so… Fran."
"Mm! Ehehe~"
After clinging to him for a while longer, the girl in the wedding dress finally let go of Shirou.
"Daddy, I'm going to chase the enemy."
As she spoke, she looked in the direction Father Kotomine had fled.
Before the battle, Frankenstein's Master had told her that if she encountered a fleeing enemy, she should instead go engage the Servants elsewhere.
But she had not obeyed that order.
The girl felt that letting that man escape would be very bad.
That white-haired, brown-skinned Master who looked somewhat like Daddy was definitely abnormal… No, come to think of it, was that man really a Master?
Judging by Frankenstein's instincts, that man might be…
"Looks like we're thinking the same thing."
Shirou ruffled Frankenstein's pink hair.
"Daddy thinks that Master is suspicious too?"
"Yeah."
"Then… let's chase him together~" The girl looked at him pleadingly.
I don't want to be apart…
I want to stay with you forever…
That was what the girl's beautiful, jewel-like heterochromatic eyes seemed to be saying.
Ugh, no man could possibly refuse that expression…
Just as Shirou was about to nod, Manaka Sajyou's voice rang out in his mind.
"Saber, proceed to the main battlefield immediately. The 'Black' Lancer has put the 'Red' Swordsman in a difficult position. The situation is extremely critical."
"What?"
Mordred was in trouble?
And her opponent was that "Black" Lancer.
According to Sisigou's speculation, the Lancer summoned by the Yggdmillennia clan was most likely that guardian of Romania, Vlad III.
If he had been summoned on Romanian soil, he would possess strength of the highest rank. Even the Knights of the Round Table, all first-rate heroes, would likely struggle to oppose him.
Manaka added.
"It's been confirmed. The enemy Lancer is Vlad III… He never had any intention of hiding his True Name from the start. Such absolute confidence."
"…Understood. I'll head there immediately."
Shirou received the exact coordinates of the battlefield from Manaka.
Then he turned to the girl in the wedding dress beside him.
"Sorry, Fran… I have something I need to take care of first. I'll leave the pursuit of that suspicious man to you."
"..."
Berserker's expression turned extremely complicated.
Just as Shirou was wondering how he should comfort her.
"Uu… I understand. I'll do my best~"
Although she was sad and lonely, Berserker still bit her lip and saw Shirou off.
Even she herself did not realize it, but this was undoubtedly a form of growth.
The Homunculus girl who feared loneliness no longer destroyed everything simply because she could not have what she wanted.
Now, she could endure loneliness for the sake of someone she cherished.
Frankenstein, born as a monster, had experienced "growth" like that of a human for the first time since becoming a Heroic Spirit.
...
...
In the mid-fifteenth century, the mighty and seemingly unstoppable Ottoman Empire destroyed the declining Eastern Roman Empire.
Several years later, the empire expanded further, this time setting its sights on the Principality of Wallachia.
The empire's army numbered 150,000, while the Wallachian army led by Vlad III had only 10,000 men.
However, through relentless guerrilla warfare and scorched-earth tactics, he exhausted the Ottoman Empire. He also evacuated the populace and even emptied the capital before facing them.
The Sultan of the Empire was Mehmed II, known as "the Conqueror," the man who had captured Constantinople and its three layers of walls.
The Ottoman ruler, famed for his strength and courage, could not help turning pale when he arrived at the capital, Bucharest.
Countless stakes had been erected around the castle.
Impaled on those stakes were former comrades, subordinates, and captains. A full 20,000 soldiers of the Ottoman army.
The instant he saw that hellish sight, the anger he felt over his comrades' brutal deaths vanished somewhere beyond reach.
The atrocities the Ottoman Empire had committed before. Plunder, violation, slaughter. Those had merely been the result of desire taken to its extreme.
But this was different. The very idea behind it was entirely different.
This was a method that did not treat people as human at all, because these people had been pierced through "merely for display"…!
The army's morale fell to zero in an instant, and Mehmed II had no choice but to withdraw.
As he retreated, he left behind these words.
"I fear no one, but demons (vampires) are another matter."
To any enemy who dares trespass upon his territory, Lancer, Vlad III, will show true hell and terror without so much as changing expression.
Now, more than five hundred Dragon's Tooth soldiers had gathered on the main battlefield.
Vlad III held no weapon in his hands. He simply urged his bronze steed forward with an air of majesty.
To him, the number of foot soldiers was meaningless, but leaping straight into a mob of them would be nothing more than reckless bravado.
Lancer had his bronze-iron steed stamp against the earth and leap high into the air, while he spread his arms and proclaimed in a ringing voice:
"Now then, barbarians who trample my land! The hour of punishment has come!
Mercy and wrath shall become searing stakes and pierce you through!
Despair before these endless, truly infinite stakes… and wet your throats with your own blood!
[Kazikli Bey]!"
The earth trembled faintly, and the Dragon's Teeth soldiers reflexively looked down.
In an instant, slender stakes were summoned from every direction, shooting skyward one after another and impaling them.
Across the grassland, trees rustled into being, their trunks made of stakes and their branches and leaves made of bone.
In the blink of an eye, all five hundred Dragon's Teeth soldiers were annihilated.
Lancer paid no attention to the result. He merely turned his head toward the other side.
"Oraaaaaaaa!"
Someone wreathed in crimson lightning flew across the battlefield like a cannonball, closing in on Vlad III atop his horse.
"You are… hmph, the 'Red' Saber."
Mordred felt that luck had been on her side lately.
First, she had reunited with her father. Then tonight, when she had only been taking a chance, she had run straight into the enemy's supreme commander.
In short, all she had to do was take this guy down, right?
Mordred skillfully used "Mana Burst," launching herself like a bullet and closing a hundred meters in an instant.
She raised the silver magic sword she had inherited from her father and brought it down toward Lancer's head.
Faced with the sudden attack, Vlad III merely moved a finger.
In that instant, countless stakes shot up from the ground, stabbing toward the rebellious Knight in midair.
Mordred released Mana in midair to evade them, but the stakes kept emerging again and again as if they had locked onto her.
"Tch…!"
Mordred's magic sword flashed.
But from the severed stakes, new stakes shot out.
It seemed that simple physical destruction had no effect on these stakes.
In that case, the corners of Mordred's mouth lifted slightly.
"Crimson lightning!"
If this was a wave made of stakes, then she only had to scatter it with the light that was herself.
The Rebel Knight poured all of her Mana into her sword, unleashing blood-red lightning all around her.
This was a use of Clarent modeled after her father's "Strike Air."
It was not a full release, nor did it require exposing her True Name. Instead, it compressed the destructive magical energy stored in the blade to its absolute limit and released it all at once.
The surging stakes were swept away without a trace.
Mordred had only just let out a breath.
"What impressive Mana. Though you have the appearance of a young girl, you must be a warrior of great renown."
Lancer's voice approached from behind.
He was no longer barehanded. A spear was now gripped in his hand.
"Consider this repayment for your ambush."
With that, Lancer thrust toward the back of Mordred's head.
After two consecutive uses of Mana Burst and a partial release of her Noble Phantasm, even Mordred, who possessed Mana beyond human limits, could not recover fast enough. Her body was no longer able to make an emergency evasion.
Yet just as the spearpoint sliced through several strands of the girl's golden hair and was about to pierce her skull.
Mordred's armor began to transform. Her helmet wrapped around her head, blocking the fatal blow from behind.
This was another Noble Phantasm possessed by Mordred, "Secret of Pedigree."
Created by her mother, Morgan the Fairy Queen, this Noble Phantasm not only concealed her information, but also possessed outstanding defensive power.
It was worth noting that this was not Mordred's original helmet.
Her original helmet had been smashed apart by Shirou's sword the night before last. The one she was equipped with now had been taken from Shirou's treasury (Spirit Origin).
"…!"
Although she avoided being killed, Mordred was still sent flying by the spear thrust and crashed to the ground.
Fighting on his homeland, Vlad III had all his parameters raised by one rank. Even against a Knight of the Round Table from the Age of Gods, he could overpower her with raw strength.
The "Red" Saber landed in a manner that could hardly be called graceful, then immediately lifted her head and glared at Vlad III, who remained safely mounted on his horse.
"That unyielding, rebellious gaze… I see. You are quite similar to the 'Red' Berserker."
The Prince of Wallachia looked down coldly at the girl, meeting the gaze that shot out from beneath that bizarre helmet.
"Though I have no intention of sparing you, both a heretic and an invader, 'Red' Saber, I can make a special exception and forgive your disrespect toward a king.
What say you? Will you enter my service?"
In an instant, fury mingled with killing intent swept across the entire barren battlefield.
"Say something that stupid again, and I'll kill you."
Mordred spoke in a low voice.
That surging killing intent was the answer she gave with her very soul.
The only king the girl was willing to serve, in the past, the present, and the future, was one person, and one person alone.
"What a shame… Mm. In that case, die."
The "Black" Lancer nodded thoughtfully.
When he raised his right hand, killing intent surged from the ground beneath Mordred's feet.
The stakes from earlier had been no more than a tiny fraction used as a show of force. Romania's strongest guardian was now beginning to slaughter his enemy in earnest.
"Come then. Try to show me your rebellion."
In the next instant, ten times as many stakes as before were already closing in before the red swordsman's eyes.
"Ugh!"
Mordred barely reacted in time and evaded with "Mana Burst," but more stakes immediately attacked from different directions.
"Is that all, 'Red' Saber…? It seems I was right not to take you under my command."
Hundreds, thousands, even more than ten thousand stakes shot out.
Even among the Knights of the Round Table, Mordred's reflexes and intuition were top-class.
Her martial skill could not compare with the very finest knights. What had allowed her to hold her place in Britannia was her inborn sense for battle.
Yet even Mordred, a born swordswoman, gradually fell into difficulty before this abnormal number of stakes.
Though she barely continued defending and evading by relying on instinct, she could not block everything forever. The stakes began leaving more and more damage across her armor.
Just how many are there…? This monster!
Mordred did not believe this was Lancer's own ability. He must have set something up behind the scenes.
At the same time, memories of the mock battles she had fought with her father in life surfaced in the girl's mind.
That king who could project infinite swords.
Guh! Compared to Father, these lousy stakes are nothing!!!
Mordred roared and swung her magic sword, but.
With a sharp crack, the armor of the "Red" Saber shattered.
The flood of stakes finally broke through her defenses and pierced the girl's body.
Blood sprayed out.
Her left shoulder, right forearm, right thigh, and side had all been impaled by stakes.
The wound in her leg was especially severe, forcing Mordred to drop to one knee in humiliation.
This was the first time the Rebel Knight had ever lost a battle of endurance.
Mana and resilience were the two things she was most proud of…
"Damn it…!"
The "Black" Lancer's stakes were almost endless. No.
Not almost. They were truly infinite.
That was because the Mana Lancer used did not come from his Master, but was being squeezed out of the Homunculi used as batteries.
As long as the Yggdmillennia clan's stockpile of Homunculi had not run dry, Lancer's Mana would never be exhausted.
In other words, this battlefield with a one-kilometer radius was effectively filled with twenty thousand malicious stakes under his control.
There was no way to win.
Mordred had tried to challenge, by her own strength alone, a king who ruled the land and possessed a nation. Of course she could not prevail.
"This is the end, 'Red' Saber."
Lancer sat astride his horse, not even a single drop of sweat on him.
"In respect for that rebellious spirit of yours, I shall personally take your head."
He urged his horse up before Mordred and raised the execution spear in his hand.
Suddenly, a crimson torrent of Mana connected heaven and earth.
Vlad III's eyes widened in shock.
"To think you still had this much strength in reserve… No, is this reinforcement from a 'Command Spell'!?"
The bronze horse beneath him was not a living creature, yet even it reared up in terror before that overwhelming pressure.
"Drop dead, you arrogant king!!"
Mordred seized the opening and leapt up, as if the stakes piercing her body had no effect on her at all.
Kairi Sisigou's "Command Spell" had only strengthened her Mana. Her ability to react so quickly came from Mordred's own "Battle Continuation."
"Haaaaaaaah!"
Wrapped in a crimson flash, the Rebel Knight swung a blow filled with all her Mana at the "Black" Lancer.
But at that moment, her "Instinct" activated.
An inexplicable fear rapidly enveloped the girl, slowing her movements.
Mordred's intuition told her that this attack had already ended before she even realized it.
Was it when the spear tip struck the back of my head!?
"Oh? How astonishing… You can perceive even that much?
You truly are a born warrior. But it is already too late."
The moment Lancer finished speaking, something violently expanded inside Mordred's body.
Something hard, sharp, and terrifyingly cold.
"Guh!"
Mordred spat blood.
Her crimson armor burst apart completely. Several stakes erupted from her chest, spraying blood as she crashed heavily back to the ground.
Vlad III's Noble Phantasm, Kazikli Bey.
A Noble Phantasm that causes countless stakes to appear out of thin air and pierce the enemy.
However, the true nature of this Noble Phantasm was not the stakes themselves, but the concept of "piercing."
When combined with another skill, "Demonic Defender of the State."
By securing the leylines in advance, Vlad III designated a specific area as "his own territory."
The final result was the ultimate form of "Kazikli Bey," "stakes that can pierce through from anywhere."
"Damn it…"
Mordred crawled through the pool of blood.
There was not a single intact part left on her body. Stakes had pierced her limbs and torso all over.
A single stake did not carry much power, but once struck, the victim would temporarily suffer continuous damage caused by "piercing."
On top of that, if the spearhead struck even once, stakes would even form from inside the enemy's body and pierce outward.
Mordred had been struck in the back of the head by Lancer at the very start of the battle. That had been the seed of disaster.
Once reduced to this state, there was no turning it around. All that remained was to struggle in agony until death.
"Guh… ugh…"
"Clarent," the beloved sword given to her by her father, lay on the ground only a meter away.
In life, Mordred had once had her internal organs burned through by the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad in her duel with Lily.
Even then, she had not died immediately.
Now, that same vitality drove her to reach for her beloved sword once more.
I don't want to lose…
I can't lose…
Father is somewhere on this battlefield…
I won't let myself end so easily in a place like this…
Mordred clenched her teeth.
Father…
He never acknowledged me, not even at the very end…
I don't want an ending like this!
"That's enough."
Just before Mordred could touch "Clarent," another hand picked it up first.
Someone.
While placing the golden scabbard inside Mordred's body, that person gripped the silver Royal Sword that had fallen to the ground.
"You've done more than enough. Leave the rest to me, Mordred."
Shirou gently patted the girl's head, then rose to face the "Black" Lancer.
"You've really taken good care of my kid, haven't you, Lancer…"
Father…!?
Mordred's eyes went wide.
As she stared at Shirou's back, she sensed a quiet fury burning within him.
"This is a king's mercy.
Come. Choose a stake to hang your corpse from, Vampire."