The Sword of Promised Victory

16 Sun's Dawn 3E 419, Wayrest, Kingdom of Menevia

The ballroom occupied the two floors of the castle of Wayrest. A monumental staircase served the king for his arrival, communicating with his private apartments.

The day had been better. A projectile hit the exterior wall breaking most of the windows. Various pieces of debris, pieces of plaster, and pieces of glass screeched under Archer's footsteps. The paintings and statues had fallen, rubble torn from the wall had broken the gilding of the opposite wall, and one of the crystal chandeliers was lying on the floor.

As Sakura watched the former hero advance from the top of the stairs, the latter did not turn his head and remained with his arms hanging with empty hands.
He was attentively listening...

A sound of chains sounded at once. The room was vast and fed many echoes. It was impossible to locate Rider unless you force her out of the shadows.

Archer had this little superior smile that everyone hated:

"For a woman who insists that she is a 'monster', I find it rather strange that you have so easily accepted that we distance ourselves from the wounded and the refugees for whom Sakura is responsible. I imagine a real monster would have exercised some horrible blackmail over these innocent lives."

The answer comes with a sudden attack.

By reflex, Archer jumped high, making Kanshou and Bakuya appear as a metal sting struck the ground where he had stood, breaking a stone slab. In a chain click, the weapon returns to the hand of its owner.
The former hero of the bow turned to the top of one of the walls. Rider was hanging on the wall, head down. Despite her beauty, this position made Medusa look like a demonic spider. Her face inexpressive and her eyes invisible, Medusa shows a piece of her pink tongue to lick the blade of her dagger. She had a mocking little laugh:

"Think what you want of me, Archer. But don't think I'd spare you."

The hero Emiya looked up to the sky:

"In this life, as in the previous one, my luck has not improved. All the pretty women I meet want me dead; I'm going to end up thinking I have a personality defect."

Rider dropped to the ground, squatted, and jumped on Archer... before he wiped himself out. Emiya made a roll, stooping in-extremis as his enemy's deadly chain passed over his head... launched by Rider who was now standing in his back.

Alaya's old dog turned around, throwing his two Chinese swords in a gesture. The Bridal Blades swirled in the air. The woman with the long purple hair deflected Bakuya using a piece of chain stretched between her hands like a shield and skipped Kanshou by a side leap.

The former Archer Servant, drew only an ironic smile to his opponent. He had summoned new copies of his favorite weapons... and the first swords were already returning to Rider.
Many of Archer's enemies had fallen victim to his ability to simultaneously generate several replicas of Kanshou and Bakuya. The blades balanced like boomerangs returned in the hand of the one who had thrown them, magnetized one by the other they could perform complex figures that the old Counter-Guardian had passed centuries to master.

Except that a strategy based on an attack in his opponent's blind spot was useless against Rider. Medusa wore a magic mask that blocked the curse of her gaze... and deprived her of her sight. Her perception of the world was based on her other senses and magic. She discerned the world 360° with incredible detail.

Without waiting for the first pair of swords to come back upon her, the woman rushed forward, so fast that Archer did not have time to get on the defensive. Once again, she erased herself, arriving in front of him... letting herself fall to the ground to sweep the legs of her opponent with a false move.
Emiya did not fight to stay standing... which would have exposed him to the attack of the dagger that was already whistling down his throat. He accompanied the impact, falling to the ground, rolling at a distance, he found himself on his heels. Jumping hight, he swapped out the Twin Blades for his black bow. A rain of arrows made of luminous prana fell on Medusa.

Nevertheless, the woman with the mask dodged all the attacks by quick side-hops, before rushing forward.
She came to the archer in red as he touched the ground. Two kicks hit him in the chest and under the chin, throwing him against a wall.

With his hands on her mouth, Sakura shouted in terror:

"Archer-san!"
Her eyes went from her protector to her friend, without really knowing who she wanted to win. One thing was certain, however, that each blow hurt her as much as the participants. Once again, she was an issue in a fight. The latter announced itself difficult for the two heroes reincarnated.

At the same time, the first trebuchet shot startled General Valendil.

No, not yet! Not so soon!

The section of the wall defended by his soldiers was in a miserable state. All night, the imperial legionaries had done their best to repair the holes that opened their beatings in the stone. But it was an impossible feat to succeed in such a short time.

Quickly at the top of the steps leading to the top of the tower, the imperial general grabbed the telescope held out to him by the legate Leontius and squatted behind the partly dislocated hoardings.
Three waves of soldiers were clearly visible. The first was Gobelins, sacrificed to «soften» the defenses. Behind them came great Orcs. These elite troops took with them mangonels, rams, mobile shields, and siege towers. The thin rays crossing the ash sky played on their armor of orichalcum. Yet it was the third wave that was the greatest danger. The Orcs and goblins were so numerous that their army looked like an ocean of armors. Trebuchets had now come into play on all sides smashing the stone of the walls, leaving new impacts on the towers, breaking up the mortar. The stones thrown by the Couillards posted at the top of the artillery towers turned the loose ground already plagued by multitudes of craters to give birth to ephemeral mud mushrooms.

The tide of Gobelins rising to the assault opened with bloody wounds. When they reached the remains of the ditch, the humanoids entered a land littered with their dead. It was a sign that they had reached the range of archers and crossbowmen stationed on the third wall line. The arrows, the tiles literally began to rain. Shields raised above their heads, the children of Malauch continued to advance. The long siege ladders leaned against the walls and were instantly covered with warriors climbing to the top of the ramparts, eager for carnage.

The machicolations spit stones, boiling oil, and sand bringing to incandescence, but the victims were immediately replaced. Some ladders were pushed back and released with clusters of goblins howling as they fell.

Everyone knew that this attack would be futile, Valendil thought. As for the second, it would only scratch the defenses. That everybody knew it. Yet, unless a miracle, tonight the defenders would end up buried under the ruins of Wayrest.

The echo of an explosion resounds between the ramparts and the walls of the houses, similar to the roar of a fauve. The east gate had just been pulverized by a salvo of fireballs launched by Orcs shamans. Planks and pieces of masonry bombarded the paving stones, causing the defenders to retreat.
While the battle raged all around the city. The duel of the heroes continued inside the royal castle.

For an ordinary human, the confrontation would have been practically invisible. The two reincarnated Servants resorted to all their speed and agility. They would climb the walls, bounce against the roof, clash between heaven and earth.

Sakura saw fuzzy movements followed by sparks when Archer's swords met Rider's chain.
Once again, the hero Emiya created double copies of Kanshou and Bakuya. Throwing the first set to Rider as a feint, he ran to her folded in half. Of course, Medusa stopped the swirling blades and jumped sideways to dodge them as the Chinese sabers came back to her... as Archer had planned.

And of course, the masked woman turned to the Alaya's old dog as he prepared to attack her. Using a segment of her chain, she blocked Kanshou... which was still a fake assault.
Emiya quickly took two steps aside, passing in the back of his enemy to push Bakuya into her hip.

Medusa's reflexes and suppleness prevented a serious injury. Nevertheless, the blood flowed and the young woman leaped back, her face deformed by the pain.

"Enemy or not, you're brilliant, Archer."

Rider's sincere and admiring tone drew a short smile to Emiya:

"I return the compliment, to be praised by an adversary as dangerous as you is flattering."

Throwing his two blades at his enemy to create a new diversion, Archer jumped back:

"I am the bone of my sword"

The first stanza of his incantation served to strengthen his Projections, making them more resistant while accelerating the process of creation and reducing the cost in prana for each weapon. His bow appeared in his hands. At an unthinkable speed, he fired a new barrage of arrows. Emiya knew, however, that it would be vain and that his opponent would avoid all his attacks.

The confrontation was very difficult for the Faker. Medusa was faster and more agile than him. To invoke weapons more powerful than his bow or the Bridal Blades took time... a brief moment according to the standards of ordinary humans... but far too much in a fight against a hero of this kind. He had no choice but to continue to counter the superior force, agility, and rapidity of the Gorgon with his tactics and cunning. Perhaps by continuing to inflict small wounds to Medusa he would weaken her enough to defeat her or he would gain enough time to recite the first three verses of his incantation and... materialize more powerful weapons.

Or else he would consume all his prana...

Unless Medusa manages to strike a fatal blow.

Rider had dodged his arrows and jumped on Archer, her legs wrapped around his head, her hands resting on the ground, she arched herself to project her enemy at a distance. Before he even touched the ground, her chain had materialized, surrounding the hero dressed in red. She made him spin at great speed, before releasing him... he violently hit a wall.
Falling to the ground with debris from the wall, Emiya coughed up blood. He was sore everywhere. Fortunately, his bones and muscles were Reinforced and as hard as steel. He breathed:

"... White..."

Medusa stopped with an expression of surprise on her face:

"What?"
Spitting a little more blood, Archer rose up:

"Your panties are white."

A sudden redness appeared on the cheeks of the gorgon:

"We're in the middle of a fight, you could think of something else!"

Emiya shrugged his shoulders:

"I couldn't fail to see your panties as you wore such a short skirt and wrapped your legs around my neck... I literally had my nose on it."

He ended his statement with a wink.

Medusa was now completely red... and Archer saw almost steam coming out of her nose and ears.
"Archeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer!"
"Finally, I confess to being surprised, such a pure color should be worn by an innocent schoolgirl, not by a 'bloodthirsty monster'. Truly, the role of a monster is not for you, Medusa."

She rushed towards him to silence him, fist raised, wrapped in a red blood aura and Emiya had one of his little ironic smiles that made him so detestable.

—or he could piss Rider off so much that she lost her composure and made mistakes that he could exploit. He threw himself aside and Medusa hit the wall... The stones exploded under the impact, opening a breach of three meters in diameter in the thick wall of the castle.

Archer swallowed up...

—if he survived the fury of a raging Gorgon!

King Eadwyre arrived on a large white steed, surrounded by the Knights of the Order of the Rose. The ruler of Menevia wore no helmet, but a richly engraved armor of plates covered him from throat to toe. All recognized him by his wrinkled features of a handsome old man, his silver beard and hair. His forehead wore a simple crown. Without fear, Eadwyre joined the defeated soldiers who were moving away from the broken door. The old man stood very upright. With one hand he wielded a sword, and with the other he pressed an armored shield representing the three roses of Menevia.
He did not utter a word, but his presence alone had miraculous effects; men gathered around him.

Those who seemed ready to flee or surrender now cheered their king.

Then, around the Knights of the Rose, disparate elements of other regiments gathered: militiamen, crossbowmen, garrison units… everything that was still standing.

A broken door still hung on one of its half-torn hinges. The other lay on the ground, its lower half reduced to a heap of broken wood. Trampling them, a troop crossed the obstacle.

The Orcs!

The green-skinned tall humanoids wielded lightning-shaped scimitar, serrated axes, maces, and large triangular shields. Their armors were made of green metal as their conical helmets adorned with colored ponytails.

King Eadwyre straightened himself on his steed. From the point of his sword he pointed to the enemy:
"Charge!"

Setting an example, the noble old man rushed forward. In the space of a moment, the air was filled with the roar of arms, the howling of pain and anger. Eadwyre found himself facing a first opponent. The Orc was on foot but benefited but had the protection of their strong armor. Unleashing a vicious smile, the green humanoid struck with all his might. Pulling the reins of his horse to make him describe a side step, shield raised, the king of Menevia deviated the attack. In the same movement, he engaged the point of his sword under the arm of his enemy.

Touched by the defect of his armor, the Orc collapsed, the heart pierced.

His first opponent had underestimated King Eadwyre. The two warriors coming to him did not intend to repeat this error. From a maneuver, they departed a few steps before converging on him.

Without a word, the Orcs struck at the same time. The royal shield stopped a scimitar, but the other slipped on the sovereign's plate armor. Holding back a cry of pain, Eadwyre of Menevia responded. The king's enchanted sword bumped an Orc shield, repelling the aggressor. Nevertheless, caught against his feet, he took another scratch given by his second opponent. The first Orc was already coming back to the charge; his scimitar sank deep into the wood of the royal shield cutting the upper part of Eadwyre's protection.

Eadwyre threw his horse forward. The steed stood on his hind legs striking an Orc with his hooves. Taking advantage of the astonishment of the second Orc, the king struck. The blade cut deep into the armor of orichalcum, leaving a mark from which the blood flowed. Nevertheless, before the king could finish his opponent, a crowd movement occurred.

Allies and mixed enemies snatched him from his fight, Eadwyre swore and raised his sword to deal blows around him. But the battle was confused. Attacks and counter-attacks followed one another quickly. The combatants at the heart of the melee were carried away on one side, then on the other.
Pushed aside, King Eadwyre of Menevia struck the near wall. All around him, it was a fierce body mixing shocks, screams, and pain. After exchanging some ill-fated blows with Orcs as compressed as he was, a new movement pushed him back into an area where the fighters had more freedom of movement.

An Orc had just finished off one of the soldiers of the garrison. Saluting with his bloody blade, the humanoid immediately launched into a brilliant display of fencing. A stroke from the flat of the blade caused the king to stagger. His mount retreated awkwardly, stumbling on corpses. Without slackening the pressure, the boar-faced colossus continued to attack and slowly repel its enemy. Eadwyre's retaliations broke on a steel wall. Insensibly, the old king felt his blows slow down and weaken... he was after all not very young. A primitive terror palpated in his belly, an icy chill that spread along his spine, swiftly swept away by black anger. Eadwyre of Menevia refused to die like this!
With a quick pivot of the bust, the king dodged a new assault. His speed had just increased tenfold. Suddenly, it was he who repelled his opponent. In a sparkling whirlwind, the Breton faked and finally crossed the opposing defense. In vain, the armor of Orichalcum was strong. The Orc did not appear to be injured but wore a new fencing botte.

The monarch of Menevia felt fweak again. The sweat made him blink, and his sore muscles were tensed by the effort. Time stretched endlessly, adrenaline turning seconds into minutes. An unarticulated scream of horror brought him back to the present.

One moment, his gaze drifted to capture the terror of a dying man. Moreover, all around, there was almost nothing else than death and dying. Unfortunately, among the living, the Orcs were more numerous...
Eadwyre had stopped paying attention to the fight. A second opponent had approached. Armed with a dagger he just stabbed the king's flank.

The ruler of Menevia responded by reflex, blowing up the head of the laughing enemy. A hand pressed on the hip, the features livid; he tried to contain the blood that flowed.

Around him, the survivors of his army reacted to his wound. The knights charged and surrounded him. While one of his bodyguards took the reins of his horse, the others rushed into the crowd of the Orcs:
"Sire Alabore, bring the king to safety, we hold the enemy."

Gasping, Archer landed on his feet and staggered. His lip was split, his forehead skinned, his red mantle reduced to the state of rags. Because of the pain in his chest, he must have had several broken ribs. Nevertheless, he had just wounded Medusa again.

The beautiful woman with a sculptural body who thought she was a monster also wore her share of wounds... but not to be deceived, they were less serious than those of Emiya. If things continued in this way her victory was predictable.

Nevertheless, the ex- Archer class Servant had survived long enough to fulfill one of his goals. He reached out, concentrating:

"I have created over a thousand blades."

This was the third verse of his incantation. Between his fingers, a black blade materialized. Its guard was of gold like its pommel finished by four claws enclosing a milky gem. Durandal, known as the Peerless Sword, was incredibly sharp and did not require prana to be used... a great advantage given his state of exhaustion.

Upon seeing his enemy materialize an unknown weapon, Medusa withdrew by a leap. Her opponent had once again changed tactics and the Gorgon had learned that it never announced anything good for her.

In every respect, Archer was a very average hero. However, he was also a warrior as she had rarely seen: intelligent, cunning, able to use her agility, her strength... or her modesty against herself.
Her hesitation at his change of method was precisely the kind of fault that Emiya could not fail to exploit. The Red Coat Heroe threw himself forward. Of course, Rider blocked the attack... except that her chain broke, cut by Durandal. The blade slit her tunic, tracing a deep cut from her belly to her hip. The torn tissue immediately soaked in blood.

Once again, the Gorgon's reflexes had saved her life. If she had not jumped back, Durandal would have cut her in half!

She took off her mask:

"Gorgon Breaker!"

Medusa hated to resort to the Mystical Eyes of Cybele. Nevertheless, her petrifying gaze could save her life. And effectively, her gaze gave her some edge against Emiya, the hero leaps aside, his eyes looking at the floor. But the effect of surprise did not play in favor of Medusa. Alaya's old dog knew from the beginning who she was, having "read" her identity when writing her dagger within his Unlimited Bladework. Unfortunately, unlike his enemy, he could not see without looking.
Rider jumped high, falling down on her enemy but Archer rolling aback, dodging the assault. He even succeeds in cutting the gorgon on the arm.

It was necessary to finish quickly, understood the beautiful woman with purple hair. The battle on the outside had been going on for over an hour... and their confrontation too. She had no time to waste. Rider straightened up and... her dagger in hand, she pierced her throat through and through! A stream of blood flowed from the horrible wound, but instead of falling to the ground, the red liquid formed a disc in front of Medusa. It sparkled for a moment before turning into a magic circle covered with unknown and disturbing slithering letters.

A moment later the room was illuminated with clarity more blinding than the sun.
Archer instantly identified the danger and resorted to one of his most powerful Noble Phantasm:
"Rho Aias!"

Short of energy, pressed by time, he can only materialize the four-petalled version of the legendary shield of Aias the Great.

Transformed into dazzling light, Rider threw herself on the translucent shield.

All the windows of the two floors including the ballroom shattered, spreading an unsustainable light.

Valendil ran along the ramparts.

A few dozen meters away, a new mobile tower was preparing to disgorge reinforcements on the walkway A sudden hiss made his heart leap. By reflex he threw himself to the ground and took awkward shelter behind the battlements, his shield raised above him.

A block of stone smashed the hoarding just behind him. A second projectile followed, shaking the stone of the crenellations. On the third impact, there was a sound of landslide and cries of horror. Crawling on the elbows, the imperial general managed to get far enough to avoid ending up like his followers.
Once again, the Aldmer could not help but look back. A wide section of the wall was deprived of battlements. The walkway around had collapsed. The armor of several legionaries shone in the midst of the rubbles. His squire was among them.

An Imperial bowman came to his aid:

"Are you all right, general?"

"It's not the most important thing right now." With his sword, Valendil pointed to the rolling belfry. "Prepare to repel the enemy!"

Next to a gaping breach in the walls, the assault tower had just dropped its drawbridge. A horde of Goblins came out, throwing themselves at the throat of the imperial legionaries. The archers placed behind the embrasures of the siege machine responded to the shots of their rivals placed on the ramparts. The air was full of deadly arrows. Nevertheless, this wild dance had become too familiar to Valendil Ceberhas to inspire him anything but sadness and disgust. He reserved fear for a newcomer.
He was three meters tall and had a round and stupid face, with thin lips opening on rotten fangs, loose ears, not a hair. The ogre had the skin of a dirty white covered with dirt and dust, dotted with scars. For his only garment, the colossus wore a dusty fur loincloth invaded by vermin.

Howling a challenge in a barbaric language, the humanoid monster threw a club in front of him. The crude weapon was formed by a young trunk of an uncut tree. At its extremity, a wide, badly cut stone was restrained by leather ties. The primitive club mowed down an entire row of legionaries. The shields and the skulls were smashed; the armor plates and the ribs were bashed.

Before deciding whether to flee or fight, Valendil found himself facing the monster.

The ogre brought his club over his shoulder. The tree trunk fractured a section of the battlements, without touching the Aldmer general. With a leap, the High Elf had just passed under the arm of the Ogre, coming out of his field of vision. Very stupid, the creature remained with his arms swaying. It all happened too fast for his birdbrain.

Despite the gravity of the situation, the prince began to smile. Good tactician, he knew how to use the weaknesses of the enemy. Raised, he rushed towards the Goblins who were following the fight. Surprised, they marked a time stop. Enough time for him to open a chest and burst a face.

Behind him, the legionaries shouted a victory cry and attacked the Ogre, who turned their backs on them. Spears and arrows stuck deep into his skin, but it took much more to hurt the terrifying creature. Changing his mind once more, the bipedal monster turned to the Imperials.
Caught in the trap, between the mass of the Gobelins that was charging and the Ogre, Valendil realized a little late his recklessness. A slicer hit him in the face. His helmet deflected part of the shock, but not enough. The nose broken, the Elf staggered. His armor deflected another blade seeking his heart. The sword lifted, the general of the Emperor retreated awkwardly. His enemies had seen his weakness and were now crushing him with many blows.

He found himself on the ground without understanding how he had arrived. On either side of his head, two legs had stepped over him. Surprised the general recognized the standard boots of the imperial legion, the ankle guards in steel, and even the skirt of studded leather slats that protected the thighs of imperial officers. In counter-dive, Valendil finally discovered the face of his rescuer.

In an aggressive pose, Leontius beckoned the Goblin to move forward.

The weapon swirled, throwing lightning. The tip plunged into a chest; the heel hit an opponent at the throat. Handled like a fighting stick, the spear threw a Goblin over the battlements and broke the ribs of a second. Within seconds, the void had been made all around the imperial legate.
Meanwhile, the other Imperials had succeeded in killing the Ogre. Not shining by their courage, the Goblins retreated.

Taking advantage of the interlude, two legionaries set their leader upright to lead him to a staircase. Valendil let himself be done, far too close to fainting to protest.

In the ballroom completely devastated, smoldering, Archer got up painfully. He was still alive thanks to Durandal. The legendary blade contained three miracles; one of them had saved him when Rho Aias broke into a thousand pieces.

At the other end of the room, Medusa put on her mask and grinned with frustration:

"How tenacious you can be! What do I have to do to get rid of you?"

Despite his wounds, Emiya managed to offer her a sarcastic smile:

"Get out of here? You won't see me anymore and I'll be rid of you. It's a win-win proposition, right?"

"No! I have to bring Sakura back."

The gorgon seemed to hesitate and then lowered her head; the flow of her purple hair masked her face, preventing her from showing her expression.

"I have no choice... you want proof that I am a bloody monster? Here it is: Blood Fort Andromeda!"
A red blood pentacle materialized under her feet, almost identical to the magic circle she had previously used. Around the king's castle, smaller seals appeared. They emitted energy that formed a red dome, fed by streams of blood-like energy that converged at a central point, a sort of ball... no, an eyelid. This one opened, revealing a gigantic red eye!

Throughout the castle, people fell to the ground, hardly breathing while the curse of Blood Fort Andromeda absorbed their vital force, transmitting it to Medusa.

Sakura had watched the entire confrontation without moving from the top of the stairs or intervening. But this horrible Magecraft changed everything:

"Rider! Stop it now; there are women and children wounded and sick in the castle!"

All the inhabitants of Tamriel had an innate gift for magic, even if some peoples (like the Nords) refused to practice it. The Bretons also had a strong resistance to bewitchment. They were much less disarmed in the face of this curse than were Japanese high school students of the 21st century. However, to resist it was necessary to be in full possession of himself... which was not the case for the wounded. Weakened, they could not survive this curse very long.
"Rider!" implored Sakura.

But her friend did not move, she was standing as ashamed, face down, fleeing the look of the one she had called "little sister" the same morning.

Like all those present, Sakura was affected by the curse... Emiya also. The hero wanted to attack Medusa, force her to stop, but he felt like he was walking in a thick liquid. Overwhelmed, he struggled to just stand... while Rider's wounds were closing; healed by the vital energy she stole from innocent people.

With tears in her eyes, Sakura Tohsaka grasped Rider's hand:

"I'm going with you. Spare the inhabitants of the castle!"

Medusa agrees to this.

"Leave Archer alone too, I want you to promise me!"

The deep voice of the gorgon replied:

"Yes, Sakura, I promise to disperse Blood Fort Andromeda and leave the inhabitants of the castle in peace - including Archer- if you follow me without resistance."

"Then I'm with you."

Sakura sacrificed herself once again, she was used to it. The red energy field collapsed in an instant. When Rider raised her head, no emotion was visible on her face. She uttered only one word:
"Bellerophon!"
the silver light that had just appeared condensed in the form of a magnificent Pegasus. Jumping on hits back, Medusa helped Sakura to climb and then the mount with her two riders broke through a wall to get out.
By the time Archer reached the breach, Bellerophon was nothing more than a silver comet moving away at high speed towards the northeast.

Emiya sat on a pile of rubble. He was so tired that he abandoned himself to the darkness that threatened to engulf him. Before losing consciousness, the reincarnated hero congratulated himself on being still alive. It was not over! He would find Sakura... He had known the girl for a very long time and, although she did not know it, he regarded her as a sort of little sister. It was now a personal matter.

Noon was approaching.

The battle of Wayrest had reached its critical point. The East Doors had fallen and we were now fighting in the streets. On the ramparts, the defenders retreated where they locked themselves in the towers to resist the masses of enemies who continued to rise to the assault of the walls.

Everything seemed to be lost.

At that moment, the masses of clouds and smoke that were stagnant in the city were lifted by a wind coming from the Iliac's Bay. For the first time in days, the sun illuminated the battlefield.

One of the goblin guards stationed on one of the towers overlooking the outer trenches protecting the Orc camps saw a metallic reflection of the sunlight. Intrigued, he scrutinized the hills discovering... soldiers assembling. Thousands of soldiers, tens of thousands of soldiers even, knights in armor, trebuchets, and mangonels, magus in robes... Above this powerful army which finished preparing its attack, banners: the kingdom of Daenia, and that of Cambria, the duchy of Phrygios, the duchy of Verandia, the duchy of Boralis, the kingdom of Alcaire... All the kingdoms of the West had gathered together into an immense army!

The rescue expedition had finally arrived in front of Wayrest.

Artoria Pendragon stood on the hill with her eyes closed, not paying attention to the wind playing with her hair or the blue dress she wore under her armor. Her legs spread wide, she held Excalibur with two hands. The sacred sword was clearly visible, stripped of its windy sheath. The blade radiated a golden light as King Arthur lifted it above his head:

"Yes. Let's put an end to this."

For a moment, a bluish aura surrounded the little blonde woman, and then she harmonized with the golden radiance of the sword. The blade and its bearer united in a torch of golden light that in a few moments reached about ten meters high. As bright as the sun, this warm, living light did not dazzle.

"The gathering breath of the star. The shining torrent of life. Take this!"

And the World answered the prayer of King Arthur. The flowers of the fields, the blades of grass, and the trees were illuminated with a weak golden aura. Each glow in turn gave birth to a tiny spark-like fairy.
Thousands, millions of his flames assembled in torrents that swirled around the marveled Breton soldiers and then gathered in larger rivers that all converged on Excalibur.

Artoria clenched her teeth as the golden flame now reached more than thirty meters high. Never before had the sacred blade gathered so much energy... Except that Nirn was not the Earth and that magic was much more present in this world.

"Ex...
King Arthur lowered Excalibur in a powerful blow as if to cut off an enemy in front of her.

... calibur!"

When the blade was horizontal, the energy gathered in the golden torch was released. As a dam collapsed under the flood of a raw river, the furious power of the World rushed against the camp of the orcs.

Artoria had well spotted the flag of the warlord Agraggush, the leader of the besieging army. The wooden ramparts and defense towers on the route of the attack were reduced to nothing. The beam struck the center of the camp, the regiments in battle order, the shamans... and Lord Agraggush on his throne was engulfed by light.

A sphere of golden power materialized devouring the flesh, the armor, blowing the palisades before catching up the regiments that were advancing towards the ramparts. In an instant thousands of soldiers were consumed, the stone-throwers ignited, the siege towers were thrown to the ground.

Then his thirst for destruction appeased, the light of Excalibur rushed in a dazzling column to the stars that had generated it. Then there was a gigantic explosion, high in the sky. The clouds driven by the breath gave way to a spring sky, blue and pure. Everywhere, the little fairies fell to the ground in a shower of golden sparks.

Several minutes passed in impressive silence.

The Bretons had witnessed the whole scene, their eyes dazzled, and their mouth open. They were now reaching out to the little fairies... amazed by the spectacle and still drunk with the destructive beauty of Excalibur.

The Orcs stopped their attack; thousands of fighters had disappeared as their leader. The unleashing of Excalibur blast looked like the wrath of a god... in a sense they were right. It was too much for them, the survivors remained there watching the immense crater where a few fairies lingered. They just couldn't think.

And then...

"Attack!"
"Charge!"
"For Camlorn!"

"Knight of the Kingdom of the Islands, charge!"

The relief army set in motion. They entered the wide breach opened by Excalibur, a few handfuls of survivors fled when they approached or were massacred. The regiments separated. Some of them took back the troops that were going up to the assault of the ramparts. Caught between two fires, still under the shock of the huge explosion that had just killed their supreme leader, Orcs and Goblins offered only weak resistance.

The bulk of the Orc army was still around the East Door, busy forcing the passage outside Wayrest.

Panicked, terrified, Goblins deserted, fleeing to the north. Two-thirds of the Orc tribes followed the movement. But the Orcs were the Orcs... the most fanatical tribes did not want to withdraw and those trapped in the capital of Menevia could not.

The fighting continued for hours. Acts of heroism or what the most sensible call "useless deaths" continued until sunset. Nevertheless, the course of the battle had been reversed by the power of Excalibur.

At the approach of the night, only a few encircled Orcs were still fighting. The sun was setting on an unexpected victory. A good shot of the invasion army had been annihilated; its leader killed with all his staff, the rest was in disarray.

Artoria Pendragon entered the city on a white steed with an immaculate dress. The mighty warhorse wore a blue barding and a glittering steel headrest that matched his rider's dress-armor.

Around her were the other heroes of the country: Shiro Emiya, the Amber-Eyed Blacksmith, Magus, and archer who created weapons with a simple gesture; Rin Tohsaka, the Red Devil, mistress of the Jewels Magecraft; Merlin, the Wizard of the Flowers, with his countless powers.

The population gathered around them, throwing flowers, clapping. Women were crying and more than one man was quickly wiping a tear.

Eight months of horror and anguish had just ended. The war was not over, but for the first time, the people of Menevia were confident.

Heroes were protecting them.

Author's note: With this chapter ends the second part of Fate Dragoncrown. I'm sorry for the number of chapters of battles that have gone on without a break. I understand that it seemed long... let's say that I had to go through it to advance the story.

A word about the fight between Archer and Rider: The former has more fans than the latter and his fight against Berserker in Fate/ Stay Night shows that he is strong. As for Rider, she is the first Servant to fall as well in this route as in Unlimited Bladework, which makes that many people underestimate her. But there, they fight without Master... and Rin (Archer Master) is the best Master of the Fifth Grail War, with a large prana reserve and she is also an excellent tactician. And Shinji was Rider Master... I shouldn't even have to insist that such a Master is worse than dead weight. In fact, in Fate/ Stay Night Medusa is the fourth Servant in terms of power. She is outclassed only by Artoria, Heracles, and of course... Gilgamesh.