Fate: Oppression

by Gavius

Alaya is gone. The Counter Force is gone. Without them, the Throne of Heroes released all the Heroes on Earth against the planet's will. When Gaia sensed that the World is on the brink of collapse, she sent its First Hero to fix the mess. Now, Shirou Emiya has to save the day once again. What can a Retired God, a Treacherous Knight and a Boastful King do to save the planet? [AU]

16. Chapter 15 - Arc III

DISCLAIMER: I do not take credit from the Fate universe and its characters. The rights and credits go to the original authors.

Read the notes in the first chapter if you haven't done it already.

This is my very first story. I'm confident in my grammar, but if there are any mistakes, then let me know and I'll try to figure out how to fix them as soon as I have time.

Hope you enjoy.

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FATE/Oppression
-Arc III-

Chapter 15

Planet: Earth
Date: May 29 2020
Location: Marseille (Bouches-du-Rhône - France)

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Chaos. It was pure and simple chaos.

Marseille was the second-largest metropolitan area in France after Paris. To the east, starting in the small fishing village of Callelongue on the outskirts of Marseille and stretching as far as Cassis, were the Calanques, a rugged coastal area interspersed with small fjord-like inlets. Farther east still was the Sainte-Baume (a 1,147 m mountain ridge rising from a forest of deciduous trees), the city of Toulon and the French Riviera. To the north of Marseille, beyond the low Garlaban and Etoile mountain ranges, was Mont Sainte Victoire. To the west, the former artists' colony of l'Estaque; while farther west were the Côte Bleue, the Gulf of Lion and the Camargue region in the Rhône delta. The airport lied to the north west of the city at Marignane on the Étang de Berre.

It was an immense city, its origins dating back to ancient Greeks, and offered an elegant and breathtaking view. One of the busiest and most famous tourist destinations in France, as well as one of the main ports – if not THE main port – of the entire Mediterranean Sea. There was no soul in the world who had never heard of this city and its beautiful sea; its gigantic cathedral built on top of the mountain in the center of the metropolis; or the famous port and the beaches it offered. And yet, although this place was a tourist destination and a source of wonder for many who visited it… at this time, its sight was not a beautiful view. It wasn't a breathtaking view at all. On the contrary, it was a sight of horror, and tragedy, and death.

The entire port area of the city had been almost completely destroyed. The streets were invaded by deformed and horrifying demons, while countless people and civilians ran frantically in the midst of an endless line of cars through the streets. It was a gruesome sight. Men, women, children... all of them fleeing in a desperate attempt to save themselves while a horde of horrible and sprawling creatures swarmed through the harbor, slipping out of the sea. They were the same creatures that had attacked Paris in the previous days, but in much greater numbers. They were infesting the entire port area, attacking civilians and causing panic and chaos in the city. The sun had set for an hour, and the night sky made that sight even more disturbing to behold; especially now that the whole city was immersed in screams and shouts of terror and panic.

Several streets and entire blocks of the port had been completely overrun by demons. Numerous buildings had collapsed, some houses were completely destroyed, and as those hideous creatures continued to advance through the streets, more and more buildings and palaces were torn down and completely razed to the ground, generating massive explosions, incessant collapses and earthquakes. Civilians were fleeing madly in the midst of that chaos, screaming and crying and moaning like wounded animals, unable to understand what was happening and praying any existing deity so that they could save themselves, but it was all in vain. There was no hope, there was no mercy in the midst of that invasion of death and horror. The police helicopters flying over the sky were of little use in this situation, firing with rifles and machine guns at those deformed demons. But for each monster killed, two more took its place, and the invaders's horde seemed to have no end. It was a useless effort.

And death, panic and terror continued to spread all the while. The damage had remained contained mainly in the port area of the city, in the district overlooking the sea. The surrounding civilian sectors were largely undamaged, save for major damage to every system that ran on electricity. Much of the eastern area of Marseille had been deprived of electricity, sinking into total blackout. This was perhaps the most damaging consequence of the attack, as the lack of electricity made the evacuation of civilians even more difficult. Furthermore, only a handful of houses and shops remained standing in the port district. The lighthouse, the ships and all the buildings immediately near the sea or the beaches had been completely destroyed. A large part of the neighborhoods had been obliterated during the invasion. The western district was the least damaged. On the contrary, they would have had to restore a large part of the port and almost all of the eastern part of the city. The sea water had flooded the streets due to the growing number of demons, transforming the entire area and the land into a swamp of water, concrete and rubble that wasn't fit for habitation.

This, however, was without taking into account the damages. The damages… the estimates were incalculable. Even now, it would take billions to fix and recover the damage suffered by the port and the eastern district of the city. Several billion, no doubt. And at this rate, if the horde of demons continued to advance, the entire metropolis would be razed to the ground like nothing. It would surely be a destruction on a large scale, of incalculable esteem. This invasion was much worse than the one which occurred in Paris in the previous days; and unlike that one it didn't seem to have an end yet. It was a desperate situation.

And it was in the midst of all this destruction, death and chaos that our Heroes finally made their appearance.

Two cars. Two cars whizzed through the streets of the metropolis at full speed, running madly towards the port area and skidding madly to avoid hitting the fleeing civilians and the other cars that were desperately trying to get away from the damaged area. The first car was a simple yellow five-seater taxi, while the second was a small blue van. Both cars were darting as fast as they could, at a much higher speed than normal, heading without any hesitation towards the epicenter of chaos and avoiding all obstacles and civilians on the streets with inhuman maneuvers.

The driver of the yellow cab yelled with a growl of anger and frustration. "Damn it all! It already begun!"

"You don't need to tell us!"

Shirou swallowed nervously, holding one arm on the overhead brackets as the taxi sped along the road leading to the harbor, drifting with impossible maneuvers as it made its way through the streets without slowing down for even a second. Inside the car, his comrades and allies were desperately holding on to the supports and doors, their faces pale and frightened by not only the destruction around them, but mostly because of the current driver's terrible driving skills: Mordred. Along with her, Shirou, Iskandar, Jeanne and Cu Chulainn were inside the taxi, while in the blue van that followed them were Gawain, Bedivere, Marie Antoinette, D'Eon and the Dioscuri; with Artoria at the wheel.

It wasn't a relaxing drive.

Cu Chulainn grunted as the car caught a sudden bump, causing the whole vehicle to shake violently and the passengers to jump. He tried to ignore Jeanne, sitting next to him, as she clung to his arm for support. The poor girl was squeaking in fear with every jolt of the vehicle, her face as pale as death.

"D-Damn it, lass! Do you really have the Riding Skill!?" he demanded with a panicked expression.

The female Knight smirked. "Of course! There's no horse I can't ride! Don't underestimate a Knight of the Round Table!"

"Keep it down, will you! Focus on driving!" Shirou exclaimed exasperatedly, holding on to the supports for dear life. He cursed inside his head as the taxi continued to whiz down the main road. He knew he shouldn't had let Mordred drive, despite her relentless insistence. That reckless girl was extremely insane at driving. The car was literally going at a hundred and twenty kilometers per hour… in the middle of the city and the traffic. Mordred was making inhumane maneuvers to avoid running over civilians and crashing into other cars. If he had been a normal human, Shirou would surely have passed out from nausea. He had been a fool.

Another skid, and the car wheeled up on the left wheels, barely avoiding a truck that threatened to run over them in their lane. The passengers gasped in terror and fear.

"S-S-Sir Mordred!" Jeanne squeaked from the rear seats, completely panicked.

"For God's sake! Don't try to rebel against the laws of physics, kid!" Shirou snapped at his friend.

"Shut it! We should be ashamed of getting this late to the fight!" she retorted angrily, heedless of their protests.

"And I should be the one driving, not you," Iskandar declared with clear irritation. The muscular Rider sweat-dropped as Lancer's head banged against his shoulder due to a sudden bend. Of all the passengers, he was the most relaxed one, given his Class which allowed him to ride anything despite the difficulties.

Mordred only grinned wider, pressing the accelerator. "You guys should stay quite for a while, otherwhise you'll bite your tongue!"

Shirou, Jeanne and Cu Chulainn screamed in fear as the car suddenly accelerated with a skid, hitting a whole horde of demons who were thrown into the air like skittles hit by a bowling ball. The beasts exploded in piles of blood and water, clouding the car's glass and blocking the view. Mordred grunted as she activated the windshield wipers, but this did not stop her from running over two other demons, hitting a pit with the wheels, overcoming two bumps at excessive speed and bumping lightly into another vehicle with the car's rear. At this point, it was impossible to ignore the vehicle's jolts. The engine was about to fail.

Thankfully, their ride came to an end when they suddenly reached the seaport. The buildings and structures of the port were half destroyed and collapsed by now, the ships completely submerged or ruined, and the ground wet due to the flooding of the sea. It was a depressing sight, especially given the large number of deformed monsters that infested the place, screaming high-pitched screechs and waving their tentacles in the air. Several corpses lay at their feet as those hideous beasts devoured them without a care in the world.

The young driver suddenly braked. The car came to a halt with a sudden skid, hitting a whole group of demons in full force and making them explode in a pool of blood and water. Then, Mordred kicked the door and smashed it completely, exiting the vehicle with a satisfied sigh. The others did the same, but with pale faces and trembling limbs instead. Jeanne, above them all, seemed almost on the verge of fainting from relief as soon as her feet touched the ground.

Mordred put her hands on the hips, observing the half-destroyed state of the taxi. "Dammit. Next time pick a sturdier car, Ruler!"

"Maybe next time you should drive a goddamn tank instead of a car," Cu Chulainn retorted exasperatedly.

"There won't be a next time," Shirou broke in seriously, crossing his arms and joining Iskandar as the man glared in disappointment at the female Knight with a sigh. "Ever."

The blonde girl merely grinned under the others' stare.

It was at that moment that the second car arrived. The blue van appeared after a couple of seconds. It stopped next to the half-destroyed taxi, braking much more quietly and stopping its run in a controlled and perfect way. Then, without wasting time, Artoria, her Knights and the other Servants opened the doors and stepped out of the vehicle with a serious expression on their face.

Once she was out of the van, Marie jumped happily towards the others. "Un grand soulagement! I must say you're a rather reckless driver, sir Mordred," she said with an amused giggle. "We almost lost sight of you with that crazy speed."

Bedivere nodded, shooting a look at his fellow Knight. "Indeed. That was careless," he promptly agreed. "What a reckless rush. You could have involved and endangered innocent people, Sir Mordred."

The girl dismissed their words with a wave of her hand. "Whatever. We don't have time for this," she casually said, turning her head to the direction where Shirou and Iskandar were already staring since a couple of seconds. Her green eyes narrowed slightly. "We have other things to worry about at the moment."

And she was right. The news that a sudden wave of monsters had attacked Marseille had gone around the world in just a few minutes. News, newspapers and every type of media communication had instantly alerted every television and radio channel through any means of communication. The attack had started just over three hours ago, but the whole world was already aware of it by now... including Shirou and the others. It had been almost five days since their last fight ended, and during this amount of time they had decided to remain in Paris for a while to make sure something strange wouldn't happen and also to help Jeanne and Amakusa deal with the refugees. These had been difficult days, made of constant work to help the unfortunates and continuous monitoring of the city to ensure the civilians' safety.

However, a little over two hours earlier, the news had reached them. In fact, Lord El-Melloi II had contacted them just as they were monitoring the situation in the capital. The Clock Tower had immediately informed them of the calamity that was afflicting Marseille, and the television had in turn confirmed the disaster to Marie Antoinette and the others, much to their growing concern. They had not expected to have to deal with a second assault in a city completely different and distant from Paris. Not in such a short time and not without warning, at least.

Therefore, as soon as they had heard the news and received confirmation from the Clock Tower, Shirou, his comrades and their new allies had immediately rushed to Marseille to find out what was happening and stop this madness. And it didn't take them long to deduce that the cause of all this destruction was the same one that had previously threatened Paris: Gilles de Rais. These water demons were exactly the same familiars the crazed Caster had summoned in the capital to force Jeanne out in the open. The fact that he was involved in this calamity was obvious, almost with no doubt, at this point. They knew who – what, that Servant was more monster than human – they were dealing with, now.

But that didn't mean they could let their guard down.

A furious hiss echoed to his right. Shirou summoned a sword with a mental command, casually slashing at a demon that had leapt at him from the side as he and the others made their way to the harbor. As they approached the seashore, more and more demons and hideously shaped creatures appeared around them, trying to encircle them and stop their advance. But it was useless. Shirou remained impassive as he watched Mordred, Iskandar, Artoria, the Knights and Cu Chulainn slay and slice the misshapen beast without any effort. Those monsters were hideous and frightening, but they were no match for powerful Servants like them. Furthermore, although their numbers were incalculable, the combined power of Mordred, Iskandar and the others was more than enough to keep them at bay and overwhelm them despite the numerical inferiority.

In turn, Jeanne and the others were also fighting without any apparent difficulty. Shirou glanced at them as he took down yet another deformed monster with his katana, watching as Jeanne used her battle flag to generate a sudden gust of wind that sliced and ripped apart the demons around her, aided by Chevalier d'Eon who was dancing among Caster's familiars like an invisible and swift knight, striking and killing with swift, precise and well-aimed attacks of their sword. Marie stood behind them, intent on helping them in a peculiar way: singing softly with her eyes closed and invoking protection spells that served to boost their skills and concentration. The God of War held back a small smile at that vision. Even if that woman was not very skilled at fighting per se, her skills were far from useless. Jeanne and D'Eon were becoming much faster and powerful under the effect of the Queen's support skills. Interesting…

Even the Dioscuri, Castor and Pollux, were wreaking havoc on the enemy hordes, flying through the sky like bolts of lightning and electricity. The twins shared a complicated relationship - although they made 'peace' there were still a few issues between them - but the mere sight of those water demons had awakened them from their torpor and pushed them into a frenzied charge. They were shooting down the monsters like madmen, without sparing even one, with an almost frightening precision and efficiency. Even Castor, who had previously been anything but inclined to fight and defend humans, was now mercilessly slaughtering Caster's summons. It was almost as if something had snapped inside them, making them momentarily forget everything and allowing them to concentrate on fighting without thinking. Maybe it was better that way, he mused.

In less than five minutes, the entire central area of the port was completely freed of water demons. Amidst the corpses and destruction, Shirou and his companions stood solemnly in absolute silence, looking around and waiting for another wave of assault. But as they had suspected, nothing happened. There was no escape against the combined power of eleven Servants joined together. It was simply impossible for those monsters to win. Not even a chance.

Seeing that the area had been cleared completely, the Servants turned towards the sea. Thanks to their supernatural abilities, they could detect a large source of prana coming from a point in the middle of the water, a few hundred meters from the harbor shore. A pillar of dark, malevolent and oppressive mana, so dense and reprehensible that it was enough to make their skin crawl. Therefore, once the last few monsters roaming in the area had been killed, the companions ran together and headed for the source of prana they were sensing, stopping right in front of the seashore and observing the scene with norrowed eyes full of solemnity.

Jeanne gasped at the scene in front of her.

Their target and source of that chaos was right there, standing on the undulating surface of the sea: Gilles de Rais. The Caster held his Grimoire in his hand, muttering incoherently some strange and nonsensical words to activate some sort of spell, while thick clouds of dark purple smoke spawned from his book, imbuing the air with a sinister fog of mana and a unpleasant smell: the smell of blood and death.

Gawain's eyes narrowed. "There he is," he said, tightening his grip on his greatsword.

"That disgusting bastard!" Mordred spat, summoning her armor in a dust of prana and red bolts of electricity.

Jeanne gasped in horror. "Gilles!" she exclaimed, still unable to accept the fact that her friend had become so twisted and evil. The Maid of Orleans took a step forward, almost stepping into the water, but a hand grabbed her shoulder and held her firmly. Her amethyst eyes met Shirou's stern gaze, and he just shook his head without saying anything. The blonde girl clenched her fists in frustration, looking down in shame and sadness.

Artoria stepped at Jeanne's side and stared forward with a solemn expression as Gilles continued to mutter incoherent words for his spell. "This incredible outpouring of mana makes it clear that Caster is in the process of some troublesome magic," she said to the others.

"I agree. This can't be good," Pollux added, readying her sword with a tense expression next to her brother.

Gilles noticed their presence at that moment. He opened his eyes, turning toward Jeanne as his face lit up with twisted, horrifying malice. He smiled, and bowed with an expression of trepidation and folly at the same time. "Welcome, Holy virgin. And welcome to you too, dear guests," he greeted them aloud, staring at the newcomers with his eyes wide and full of madness. "I am overjoyed that we've met again."

"Gilles..." Jeanne stepped forward once again, her face a mask of pain, bewilderment and solemnity all together. "What are you doing? Stop this madness at once! You're putting countless people in danger, again!"

The Caster widened his smile with an eerie chuckle. "I'm afraid it's impossible, my dearest Maiden. What is about to happen today is something that cannot be stopped. I will open your eyes, Jeanne. I will show it to you. I'll prove to you once and for all that God's power is useless. That His love is wasted. That no foul deed, no horrible crime is worthy of God's punishment. That is my mission!" he solemnly declared, raising his hands to the heavens.

Artoria and the others looked at him with disgust. "You never learn, fiend. What are your trying to do this time?"

Jeanne's expression became filled with pain and regret when she saw her old friend burst into a mad laughter at their words. "Gilles… you're doing all of this… you're causing so much horror and pain just to see me suffer? To force me to renounce my oath to God?" she asked him sadly, almost to the verge of tears.

But to everyone's amazement and shock, Caster shook his head and assumed a solemn expression. "I'm terribly sorry, Jeanne... but you're not the guest of honor tonight," his smile tunerd more twisted and his voice grew both in tone and madness. "But if you would care to join us, it would give me the greatest pleasure. At this banquet of death and decadence that I, Gilles de Rais, have prepared, EVERYONE MAY EAT THEIR FILL!"

Something happened in that instant.

Jeanne and everyone else stared with disgust and horror as some creepy tentacles began to pop out of the water, right at the Servant's feet. Then, in less than a heartbeat, the tentacles wrapped around Caster's body, covering him more and more as their numbers increased by the second. They wrapped around him; revealing a cluster of water demons – of Horrors – hidden beneath the water's surface. The demons emerged from the sea, first in pairs, then in dozens, and then more and more… until they became too many to be counted.

There was a strange fog that formed around the area as an aftereffect while Gilles simply stood relaxingly in the middle of the water, even as the tentacles continued to wrap around his legs and arms. The vortex of raging magical energy overflowing from the tome began to distort even the space around it. The Horrors, ever increasing, began to swallow him with their tentacles, covering his entire body. Swelling in numbers, they started to entwine and coalesce while rising out of the water as a large lump of meat. It could eventually be called an "island of meat", but still grew even then. Until, after a few seconds, the entire body of Gilles was completely covered with a real layer of pulsating and reprehensible flesh. Only his head was left out of that disgusting mass of flesh.

Gilles burst out laughing, shouting his declaration to the world. "Behold, Jeanne! Now, we once again raise the flag of salvation!"

Right after that cruel declaration, a gigantic monster emerged from the water under Caster's feet, rising before the eyes of the whole world with a furious roar and an impressive bulk, generating an explosion of energy, water and prana around it. Shirou, Artoria, Jeanne and all the others watched that horrifying beast soar towards the sky with wide eyes and solemn faces, paralyzed by shock and horror as it became higher and higher, more and more hideous, and more and more frightening.

"...what is that thing?" Castor asked with a hiss, his lips twitching in disgust.

D'Eon stared with wide, shocked eyes filled with horror. "Caster... is being absorbed?"

Jeanne remained completely silent, too shaken and distraught to be able to speak.

Indeed, there was no way to fully describe the creature that stood before them. Upon fully forming, the enormous monster became an aquatic giant befitting the name of a sea demon, completely absorbing Caster's entire body. The beast before them was at least the size of a building – only considering the mass of it not obscured by the water, of which all of the summoned familiars were bits and pieces of it. It was a monster, a parasite. A misshapen "Gigantic Horror" with dozens and dozens of tentacles as big as a house and as tall as a skyscraper. It had a disgusting, yet overwhelming majesty; and while Caster was no longer visible, his voice was still able to ring out from it, laughing madly.

And therefore, his words echoed in the air with cruelty and madness.

"YOU WHO HAVE BEEN ABANDONED, GATHER HERE! I SHALL LEAD YOU! I SHALL RULE YOU! THE RESENTMENT AND RAGE OF WE, THE OPPRESSED, SHALL REACH UNTO GOD HIMSELF!"

The horrifying monster grew and grew and grew, to be at least a hundred meters high, surpassing any house, any lighthouse and any building in the city. A gigantic mass of revolting and horrifying flesh that grew relentlessly, rising to the sky with a hiss and the incessant roar of the sea waves crashing on it.

"GOD IN HEAVEN, WITH WORDS OF CONDEMNATION I PRAISE YOUR HOLY NAME!"

Artoria felt a trickle of sweat drip from her chin. "T-That's..."

"Q-Quelle horreur!" Marie gasped with one hand on her lips.

Shirou, Iskandar, and Mordred stared at the creature with shock, frustration, and disgust respectively.

"OH ARROGANT GOD... OH CRUEL GOD!" Gilles shouted his wrath to the world; his voice full of hatred, anger and sheer madness. "WE SHALL PULL YOU DOWN FROM YOUR THRONE!"

But while Jeanne and the others stared at the Gigantic Horror with faces full of tension and concern, Shirou watched that filthy beast with a cold stare and a trickle of sweat dripping from his temple. Unbeknownst to the other Servants, he was the most worried of them all. Why, would you ask?

Simple: because he knew what that horror was. He knew extremely well.

A nightmare that governed the ocean in the realm outside of the world. A deformed monstrosity without control and emotions, only invited and driven to eat and destroy and consume. A beast with a similar structure to an amoeba. It it had no bones or organs, and it couldn't be able to feel pain, joy or any form of feelings. A true, living Horror that was brought forth with the intention of suicide, only for the purpose of destruction. It could be called the true form of the diabolic underworld, or a "genuine evil": the incarnation of something which had the craving desire of devouring with thorough greediness. A beast that was brought forth with the intention of suicide, only for the purpose of destruction. A massive extradimensional evil God whose sole intent and purpose was to devour and consume everything that stood before him.

In other words, an Outer God.

And this wasn't good. It wasn't good at all.

Shirou swallowed nervously, clenching his fists and tightening his grip on the hilt of the sword.

At that moment, something happened. The Gigantic Horror let out a deafening roar, a furious hiss-like schreech, waving its tentacles to the sky and deafening everything with its bestial and inhuman scream for several seconds. Then, as the Servants watched him in horror and disgust from the harbor shore, the immense mass of pulsating flesh began to move in the water, swimming thanks to its long tentacles hidden under the sea. Thus, slowly but surely, the mighty creature with that horrifying appearance began its advance towards the city, more than willing to trample and destroy everything in front of it. Its goal was only one: to devour and consume everything. And nothing and no one would stop him.

At the same time, however, other water demons burst out of the sea soon after the giant monster began to move, schreeching to the sky and waving their tentacles frantically. In turn, Caster's summons began to swim towards the shore, following the example of the Gigantic Horror and getting closer and closer to the port. They were completely oblivious to the Servants' presence, and more than willing to die and fight to reach the city and continue their devastation. It was a horrible sight.

Gawain turned to the others, his eyes focused mainly on his King. "What do we do?" he asked them seriously.

The others didn't immediately answer the question, not even Shirou. The tense silence was interrupted only when Cu Chulainn made a nervous smirk all of a sudden, sweating profusely. "Tsk. Damn. Caster has messed up real good this time. How are we supposed to fight that thing?"

"W-We need to stop it!" Jeanne exclaimed frantically, terrified to death at the very thought of the destruction this monster could cause if it managed to reach the city.

Artoria remained calm and steadfast despite her inner turmoil. "How?" she demanded.

Once again, everyone's eyes fell on a certain red-haired Ruler. Even Marie and Iskandar – the leaders who would most likely have acted on their own initiative – waited for his instructions, along with Mordred whose body was literally trembling, lusting for action. Shirou narrowed his eyes with a serious expression in front of everyone's eyes.

'...this is bad,' he mused inwardly with a sigh. 'I didn't expect Caster to be able to summon such a monster. And an Outer God, of all things...'

Indeed, the situation was worrying. Frighteningly so.

After all, Outer Gods – also called Evil Gods of the Abyss – were existences of another universe, beyond that of even parallel worlds. They were higher dimensional life forms, born long before the true Gods, mankind and all other races. Entities without logic and purpose, and all of them shared similar and particular traits such as: strong bodies, gross and large in size; desire for absolute destruction; and total inability to reason and act peacefully. Furthermore, even if they weren't existences that were conceptually or metaphysically indestructible, their true nature was simply beyond the ability of the human mind to comprehend. Although they were aberrant in nature, they did possess flesh and as such were entities of finite life, albeit of a sort that resembled no living thing in existence.

For this very same reason, they were removed of the Common Sense of Man, the laws of physics, the principles of magecraft, and from human mentality even before the official Separation, making it normally impossible to interact or communicate with them without being driven hopelessly insane or worse. Even the Gods hated them back in the days, given their hideous appearance and lack of intellect, and because of this they had sealed them away from the existential plane during the Age of Gods. However, when they were still able to roam free to the world, the Outer Gods asserted territorial claim upon the Earth and claimed to be the creators or inventors of Earth's lifeforms. If the Earth had been left to their care, things would have been quite bad for all existing races.

Entities like that could not be underestimated, and they were extremely difficult to kill or destroy completely. Shirou had only fought four Outer Gods during his life, and all four occasions were experiences he would gladly forget, even to this day. Of course, if he still possessed all of his old powers and weapons, then dealing with this Gigantic Horror would have been a child's play. But now… it wasn't that simple anymore. Most of his powers were gone after the Ritual on the Rock, as were his weapons, and there was little he could do to kill such an entity quickly. He had no way to destroy it in a swift, quick attack. Not to mention, of course, that he had to keep his identity a secret from the others; so his actions were limited even more.

Therefore, the only way to stop this monster was to kill his summoner: Caster.

The Ruler strengthened his resolve. "For now, that monster is maintaining itself in this world with Caster's mana," he began to say slowly. His golden-brown eyes glanced to the city behind him. "But if it gets its own food source and starts to become self-sustaining... then there'll be nothing we can do."

Gawain shared a glance with Bedivere. "Therefore, we must stop Caster before then," they stated in unison.

Iskandar nodded. "I see. We need to settle this before it comes ashore and starts to feed." His red eyes narrowed, observing the mighty monster with a calculating gaze as it continued to advance into the sea. "But Caster himself is deep inside those thick walls of flesh. What do we do?"

This time, Shirou didn't hesitate to answer.

"We drag him out. That's the only way."

Everyone turned to him again.

The God of War kept his gaze fixed on the monster. "If we can expose Gilles' Grimoire, then my arrows can destroy the spell with one strike. Then, Lancer's Gae Bolg or one of your Noble Phantasms may be enough to kill him."

The others listened to his words carefully, before nodding in understanding.

Artoria pondered for some time after that explanation. Then, after a couple of seconds, she turned to Cu Chulainn with a serious expression. "Lancer, will you be able to throw that spear through his body from the shore?"

The blue Irish Lancer nodded with a smirk. "Yeah. No sweat. If I can see his heart, it'll be a child's play," he answered easily.

"Good. Then I have a plan. You, Jeanne and the Knights will act as the advance guard. Your task will be to fight and kill all the demons that will be able to reach the shore. You must stop them from crossing the harbor and entering the city. We cannot allow them to reach the civilians." At their silent nods, her head turned towards Shirou, Iskandar, and Mordred. "Shirou, you and Rider will take care of that monster from above. Take Mordred with you. I'll take care of slowing the beasts from the front. Is that acceptable for you?"

The red-head blinked, before smiling with amusement. "As expected from the King of Knights. You've already formulated an efficient and immediate strategy in spite of the current danger," he said with admiration, making her smile a little for the praise. He then shared a glance with his companions. "I don't really mind, but are you guys ok with this?"

Of course not.

"Hell no! I don't take orders from him anymore," Mordred bristled without a care. She shot a hostile look to her father for a couple of seconds, but then her expression fell as soon as she saw Shirou's gaze narrow at her and Iskandar's lips twitch in displeasure. In the end, she had no choice but to relent. "But if that's okay with you two, then I'll go along with it. Dealing with that disgusting beast takes priority," she grumbled with a frown.

Seeing that his friend had decided to do the right thing, Iskandar shrugged, relaxing a little. "That's fine by me. My chariot has no need of roads, but how are you going to attack the enemy in the sea, Saber?" the Macedonian Emperor questioned, turning back to Artoria once again.

The King of Knights smiled. "My body has been blessed by the Lady of the Lake. No water can bar my way, however many fathoms deep it may be," she answered easily.

"Hoh? That's a rare skill to have for a Servant," the man noted with an intrigued smile.

Mordred scoffed. "Save it for later, Rider. For now, wee need to drag Caster out from within that monster."

Iskandar grinned. "Indeed! Then, we shall take the lead!"

That being said, without any hesitation, the mighty Rider drew his sword and summoned his chariot with a vertical slash. The mighty Gordius Wheel appeared with an explosion of electricity and blue lightning, darting to life with elegance and majesty. The two bulls bellowed ferociously as they approached their master, ready and loaded to ride the skies once again. Iskandar climbed into his chariot without wasting a single second, flanked by Shirou and Mordred who positioned themselves next to him with their weapons drawn and ready.

Marie Antoinette stepped forward, her face as determined and serious as never before. "Très bien. I'll remain here, then," she declared slowly. "My battle skills are not noteworthy, and I would be completely useless against such a monster. But fear not, I will use my Skills to power up your attacks from the shore. I'll also be able to heal your wounds, should you guys ever take damage in the fight."

Shirou smiled in gratitude. "Thanks, Queen. We're counting on you for backup, then."

Chevalier D'Eon drew their sword again, advancing towards the shore with a solemn and determined gaze. "I shall protect the Queen from the incoming monsters while she activate her Noble Phantasm," he/she spoke confidently. "Jeanne, as soon as the monsters reach the shore, you take the lead of the charge. Lancer and the Knights will follow you."

The Maid of Orleans shared a nod with Cu Chulainn and the Knights, summoning her battle flag. "As you wish. I'll do my best."

"And we'll help too," Pollux suddenly declared, drawing everyone's attention. The young blonde-haired girl stepped forward, pushing her brother with an arm. "Me and brother can fly, so we'll attack the monster from above. We will coordinate our attacks with yours, Ruler."

She then smiled at Castor with a wink. "Are you with me, brother?"

The other twin blushed with a scowl under his sister's innocent gaze, but his eyes fell on the hideous and deformed creature that was approaching the city. He hesitated a second before speaking with a emotionless voice. "Normally I wouldn't like to have anything to do with the defense of humanity... but the mere sight of that monster disgusts me. I can't tolerate such an existence," he finally conceded in the end. He even glanced at Shirou's face for a second. "I'll help you guys until this monster is no more."

The God of War smirked. "Good. Then it's settled."

All of them shared a nod of decision.

Artoria summoned her armor, taking two steps towards the sea, ready to sprint into action. "Bedivere, Gawain. Be careful."

Her faithful Knights nodded, putting a hand above the heart and bowing their heads. "We will, Your Majesty."

The female King smiled at them. Then, she shared a single, timid glance at her 'son'. "…You too, Mordred," she added quietly.

The Knight of Treachery stilled at her words, but remained completely silent and looked away with a scowl.

D'Eon and Cu Chulainn smirked. Marie and Jeanne smiled. Castor and Pollux nodded.

Shirou let out an amused sigh, patting Mordred on the shoulder while she hastly tried – and failed – to hide her growing blush. Even Iskandar nodded with a knowing smirk at the scene. After a few seconds, Shirou then shared one last, final nod with the others as everyone returned serious and assumed an expression full of decision.

"Let's go."

That being said, without wasting any more time, Iskandar let out a mighty laugh and whiplashed his bulls. With a powerful bellow and the roar of thunder and electricity, the chairot shot skyward like a living bolt of light, faster than lightning. At the same time, Artoria sprinted towards the sea with a sudden jump, starting to run across the surface of the water with no apparent effort and heading for the looming horde of revolting demons. At the same time, Cu Chulainn and Jeanne separated themselves from the group and began to head towards the ends of the harbor, followed by Gawain and Bedivere respectively. Castor and Pullux shot through the air soon after, their bodies wrapped in red and yellow electric trails as they shot through the air like living thunders.

And while everyone charged off, Marie Antoinette and D'Eon stared at them with a solemn gaze.

The Queen of France joined her hands together in a silent prayer. A prayer whispered in her native language.

"Soyez prudent, mes amis. Et bonne chance à tous."

---

Planet: Earth
Date: May 29 2020
Location: Sky – Approximately 11.000m above Marseille (Bouches-du-Rhône - France)

(======)

In the middle of the night, far above the clouds and under the clear moonlight, two F-15 Fighter Jets flew into the night sky, flying over the land of France at maximum speed. They darted through the skies and passed through the fog and steam of clouds at an impressive speed. They both were as silent as birds of prey covert by the forest's trees during a dark, moonless night; hidden from the mortals' sight below thanks to the clouds, the darkness and the great altitude. And as the two jets flew in the sky, the pilots who guided them communicated with each other via radio.

"Hey, Mathias... if there really is a giant monster up there, will they give us permission to engage?" one of them asked in a worried tone.

The other almost laughed without glee. "If this were a monster movie, we'd be goners," he joked with an emotionless voice. "We'd just there to kill it before the Giant of Light shows up."

"That isn't funny."

"Well, we'll know for sure soon enough."

No sooner said than done, it didn't take them long to reach the target zone. The F-15 Jets were fast, quick and efficient for short, direct travels – war travels, mainly – so they were perfect for this type of operation. Ever since the world began to experience these strange phenomena all of a sudden, the situation in France had worsened indescribably. Invasions of demons, cities destroyed and plagued by sudden calamities, incalculable human and economic losses... it was a new dark age for all of humanity. The world would never have expected to fall into such an Apocalypse. Not like this, and not so suddenly.

And now, less than five days after Paris had been invaded by monsters, even Marseille had been attacked by a horde of demons from the other world. The French government could not stand by and watch without at least attempting a counter-offensive. It was simply impossible for them to stay still and do nothing. The two pilots weren't exactly sure how they should act, they didn't know if these 'monsters' were real or not, but they had received specific orders, and they wouldn't hesitate to shoot down and destroy whatever was threatening their Nation and their people. Therefore, when the two jets reached the target zone, the two pilots were ready and determined to fight to the end.

But when they saw the sight below them, the two pilots widened their eyes in horror and shock.

An immense monster with a hideous shape stood in the waters of the Mediterranean Sea, waving its very long tentacles like gruesome whips in the air. It was a hideous sight, one almost impossible to believe at first. The two pilots had never seen anything like this before.

"W-What is that thing?"

"Hey, Mathias! There's a strange light at six o'clock, too!"

"Huh?" the commanding pilot, Mathias, turned his head in the direction indicated by his colleague, observing a very particular scene from above: a pair of bolts of lightning were darting to the sides of the hideous beast of flesh and tentacles. Flashes of red and gold, along with another lightning bolt wrapped in blue electricity. Those 'flashes' of light were relentlessly assaulting the gigantic beast, hitting it from all sides and from every position non-stop; desperately trying to stop his advance into the waters. They attacked it from the sides, from above, from below, and even from behind; colliding with that immense 'body' of flesh and fiber and generating several bursts of wind in the air below.

The lightning bolt covered with blue lightning, especially, was attacking the hideous monster relentlessly with rapid and consecutive attacks, severing numerous tentacles and trampling – literally trampling – several clusters of pulsating and reprehensible flesh, as if it were a flying tank wrapped in lightning, unable to stop. It was a repeated, coordinated, and relentless attack. Yet, even from above the clouds, the two pilots knew it was useless. Whatever those bolts of light were, their attacks could barely keep the giant beast still. The severed tentacles were regenerating one after another, and any damage to that horrifing body of flesh was healed in a matter of seconds, as if it had never been inflicted in the first place.

It was a sight both horrifying and indescribable for mere humans.

The voice of the second pilot, Lambert, rang in Mathias's ears all of a sudden. "That's no helicopter or plane! Is… is it a flying chariot or something?"

Mathias tried to answer, but no sound came out of his lips. He had no idea what to say, shocked beyond words by the surreal scene he was watching with his very own eyes. He tried to say something when suddenly their commander's voice rang from the jet's radio.

-Control to Diablo-1. What is your situation?-

The pilot swallowed. "My situation... Um... well..."

How the heck was he supposed to explain what he was seeing?

Lambert interrupted him at that moment. "I'll drop altitude and get a bit closer."

He gasped. "Wait! Lambert!" but his friend didn't listen to him. "Get back here, Diablo-2!"

The pilot didn't even hear him, overwhelmed by curiosity and the desire to find out what the threat was. "If I can get closer, I should be able to see what that thing is! I have to fi-"

His jet shook violently all of a sudden. The second pilot screamed in horror and shock.

Mathias heard his screams echo in his ears. "Lambert!?"

Although they were at different altitudes, he was able to see what was happening to his colleague. All of a sudden, a new series of immense and horrifying tentacles had shot out of the sea, too many to be counted. They were a veritable swarm of living tentacles, similar to long fibrous filaments of red and purple color. Then, with a disarming and inhuman speed, they grabbed Lambert's jet in less than two seconds, completely immobilizing it in a tangle of tentacles. The flying vehicle was completely entangled in that heap of pulsating flesh, unable to break free.

A moment later, in a matter of seconds, the tentacles began to drag the his friend's jet towards the gigantic mass of flesh. A massive slit opened in the monster's body at the same time – a mouth-like hole, Mathias realized – made of warty pustule-like bumps, sharp teeth, and smaller tentacles. And the first pilot couldn't do anyting but watch, helpless, as that horrible monster devoured his colleague's jet, ingesting metal and glass inside his deformed mouth as if they were delicious foods.

And all the while, Lambert's desperate screams echoed in his ears incessantly.

Until, finally, everything went silent after a couple of seconds and the jet disappeared completely inside the pulsating body of the Gigantic Horror.

Mathias stared with wide, enraged eyes filled with fear and shock. "N-No way..." he stuttered with horror and disgust, sweating profusely as he restrained his urge to vomit. "It… It ate him? It ate Lambert?"

The commander's voice echoed again from the flying vehicle's radio.

-Control to Diablo-1! What the hell is happening up there? Report!-

The pilot swallowed, still overwhelmed by disbelief and shock. "It… It ate him. That freaking monster ate Lambert! He devoured him without any difficulty!"

-What do you mean 'eat'? What monster? What are you seeing up there?-

A second series of tentacles came out of the water at that moment, frantically aiming towards the sky. Towards the second jet.

Mathias physically jumped on his seat upon seeing them. "N-No way! Is it going to eat me, too?" he gasped, watching as those tentacles began to rise again and again, trying to reach his altitude. A gigantic sense of terror pervaded his soul at that moment, while a sheer feeling of fear began to tighten his stomach violently. Then, terror turned to panic, panic turned to anger, and anger turned to despair.

And despair always causes fatal mistakes.

"No way… No fucking way! I won't die like this! I won't die without a fight!" the pilot roared all of a sudden.

-Captain Mathias!-

Mathias roused himself with a frantic growl, diverting the trajectory of the Fighter Jet and starting to descend towards the beast at maximum speed. With shaking arms and clenched teeth, the pilot strengthened his resolve.

"Diablo-1, engaging!"

-W-Wait, Mathias! What is happ–-

He turned off the radio, breaking contact with the commando.

"I'll kill it. I'll kill it before it eats me."

He put his hand on the wheel, aiming carefully to set the machine gun on fire and shoot the missiles at the same time. The jet continued its mad descent towards the target, ready to fire at any moment.

"I'll avenge Lambert... I'll hit it with everything I have!"

...

"I'm afraid not."

Mathias startled, jerking his head up towards the monotonous, cold voice that had spoken.

A man was clinging outside of the jet, pointing a gun at his head.

His eyes widened in disbelief. "W-What the-?"

BANG.

The pilot's world was flooded by darkness.

---

Planet: Earth
Date: May 29 2020
Location: Marseille-Fos Port – Marseille (Bouches-du-Rhône - France)

(======)

This was bad. This was extremely, horribly bad.

Shirou felt his mind grow cold as he severed a giant tentacle with a horizontal slash, holding on to Iskandar's chariot as it soared into the sky, hitting the Gigantic Horror relentlessly thanks to the charge of the angry bulls. Along with him, Mordred did the same, leaping out of Gordius Wheel and delivering a portentous vertical slash to the demon's central body, opening a wound several meters deep. At the same time, with his sword, Iskandar cut a horde of tentacles that tried to grab the chariot and the bulls to immobilize their flight, diverting the trajectory first and then darting to the right. Her attack delivered, Mordred began to fall from the sky, only for the Rider to will the chariot to dive and double-back. It took a mere few seconds for Shirou to grab the girl's arm and haul her back into the chariot before she could fall into the water, and then he motioned to the King of Conquerors to get away from there. The three of them darted through the sky, barely avoiding a swarm of tentacles that nearly hit the wheels of the flying chariot.

At the same time, the great beast roared and hissed in pain and rage for several seconds, flailing its endless tentacles to the sky with ferocity and maddening lust for destruction. Yet, no matter how long Shirou and his friends continued to attack him, no matter how much damage they continued to inflict, it was useless. It was all pathetically useless. That monster didn't seem willing to give in, and his wounds weren't enough to stop him for more than a few seconds. They had been fighting that Horror for almost an hour by now, and still hadn't been able to find a way to kill it for good yet.

It continuously regenerated, no matter how much damage was done, allowing it to survive an assault from him, Mordred, and Iskandar's chariot; and even the Dioscuri's relentlessly charge all at once without suffering any permanent damage. Moreover, its tentacles had just proved to be capable of swatting an F-15 Fighter Jet out of the sky with ease; and after it had crashed into the demon's body, the entire jet had been swallowed by it without leaving a trace. That had definitely been a scary sight.

It was as if the Gigantic Horror possessed a high-level regenerating factor. Each severed tentacle was replaced by a new one, each wound in his body was closed again, each electric burn was completely healed immediately after it was inflicted. A throbbing mass of hissing flesh darted to life inside the wounds, mending the damage and regenerating all damaged tissues as if they had never been hit. Even its main body – the one inside which Caster was hiding – seemed impossible to hurt and kill. No matter how many times Shirou attacked him, no matter how many arrows and sword attacks he used, it was all in vain. The holes were promptly closed and the wounds completely healed like nothing. It was both astonishing and frustrating at the same time… as well as horribly repugnant to watch. That gigantic heap of flesh was really reprehensible.

Also, as if all of this wasn't enough, that loathsome monster was still growing even now. Its size was increasing more and more and more, relentlessly, and the damage it sustained seemed only to slow down this process without stopping it. The creature had been already big enough when it first formed, but now it had reached at least a hundred and fifty meters in size, and was still growing even now. At this rate it was going to exceed the height of any building in the city, also increasing the range from which it could be seen in the distance. The panic and chaos would spread even more because of this.

Not even Marie Antoinette's boosts seemed to be useful to destroy it. The Queen of France was continuously using spells and chanting from the shore in order to increase the group's attack power and sharpen their senses and skills in battle; but it was useless. Against such an opponent, attacking directly was completely pointless. Only an attack of incalculable destructive power could damage that monster, and perhaps even that would not be enough to kill it for good. It was a hopeless situation.

And all of this without taking into account the other monsters. At the foot of the Gigantic Horror, Artoria was still fighting against an endless horde of water demons that kept popping out of the water, relentlessly summoned by Caster. There were so many of them that several familiars had already made it to the shore, forcing Jeanne and the other Servants to fight again to prevent them from advancing into the city and reaching the sectors where civilians were still evacuating. The King of Knights was cutting them down without hesitation with her invisible sword, fighting on the surface of the water with grace and determination, but her struggles where fruitless. She was alone, and she was growing more and more tired as time passed. Not even a warrior as powerful as her could be able to stop a living army of familiars alone. Not without activating her Noble Phantasm, at least.

Shirou's eyes glanced at Artoria's invisible sword while he and his companions continued to attack the monster from the sky. His expression turned hard and solemn.

They were wasting their energy to no avail.

And at this rate… even if he didn't like that prospect, there would be no other choice but to use that.

Still, something was off. Shirou knew that Outer Gods possessed regenerative abilities. He knew this very well, given that he had faced several of them during his War and his quest to free mankind from the Gods' clutches. But this… this was too much. It was an ability impossible to understand, even for him. No Outer God he knew – or, at least, none of those he had seen and faced in life – possessed such an advanced and continuous regenerative ability. An entity capable of infinite regeneration was something that would not normally have been possible. It was a surreal concept. All existing entities, Divine or not, possessed weaknesses and limits. Nothing was indestructible, and no monster, no God, and no other entity was impossible to kill. This was one of the main laws of nature, one of the cornerstones of the existential plane. Therefore, Shirou was finding this situation very worrying and vexing.

Caster's Gigantic Horror was an exception to the rule, apparently. A cruel and evil entity impossible to damage and with the sole purpose of consuming and devouring everything that stood in front of it... it was definitely something that he couldn't ignore. Something he couldn't tolerate, even. If this monster would have been left free to roam the world undisturbed... it would have continued to grow. He would have destroyed everything without restraint and without limit. It would have consumed the whole world, until there was nothing left to devour but earth, debris and rubble. The fact that Gilles de Rais was able to summon such a monstrosity showed how deeply he had fallen into madness. No normal human being could EVER come into contact with such a horrifying entity without having become hopelessly insane themself.

Truly, a shameful and disgusting truth to accept.

Shirou suddenly roused from his thoughts when he heard Mordred growl in frustration. The blonde girl severed a second tentacle with Clarent, preventing it from grabbing the chariot. "It's no use. That disgusting filth is restoring itself," she spat with a growl.

Iskandar hummed in thought, giving the bulls a shot of the reins to push them faster. "Indeed. Its regenerative power is incredible. Our combined efforts are barely enough to keep it from reaching the shore. And it's still continuing to grow even now," he noted seriously with a tinge of irritation in his deep, powerful voice.

Shirou nodded, his eyes glancing to the two flashes of red and gold that soared in the sky behind them. Castor and Pollux were still attacking the Gigantic Horror relentlessly, desperately trying to injure its main body with a relentless and ferocious charge. Pollux floated in the air gracefully, using her sword to sever the countelss tentacles and cause deep cuts in the demon's body; while Castor used his entire body as a living missile, repeatedly crashing into the monster with a bellowing roar of rage and madness. His body wrapped in electricity and lightning was useful to burn the beast's flesh and force it to roar in rage; but other than that, the damage was inconsistent. That living Horror didn't seem close to dying, nor slowing down its growth process. Damn it all.

Mordred hissed in frustration. "What do we do, Ruler?"

Shirou narrowed his eyes, clenching his fists in anger. "This isn't going in our favor. We need to retreat for now."

Iskandar turned to him. "Do you have a plan, boy?"

"Yes, but it's gonna be extremely risky," he replied with a nervous voice, his lips set in a thin line.

His companions exchanged a silent glance, but in the end they decided to relent and nodded at him. With a swing of the reins, the bulls suddenly changed trajectory, descending towards the sea and approaching the base of the Gigantic Horror. There, Shirou and his friends turned to see an unpleasant sight: Artoria had been overwhelmed by the ever-increasing number of demons. Several tentacles of the giant monster had immobilized her, wrapping her legs and arms and preventing her from defending or attacking, while other water demons began to surround the woman and wrap their tentacles around her neck.

Shirou's eye widened. "King of Knights!" he yelled. Even Mordred gasped in shock at the scene.

Iskandar reacted promptly. With a bellowing roar, he urged the bulls to run at top speed, charging against the Gigantic Horror's tentacles. With a powerful slash of his Sword of Kupriotes, the tentacles were severed in a shower of crimson blood and water, and Artoria was released immediately. At the same time, in less than a blink of an eye, Shirou summoned a black bow and shot a a dozen of red arrows at the targets below him. The arrows rained down on the demons around the female King with disconcerting precision, giving the woman enough space to breathe and catch her breath again.

Artoria nodded in thanks as the chariot approached her, flying just above the surface of the sea. "You have my thanks," she said with gratitude.

Shirou and Mordred merely nodded in reassurance, but the Macedonian Emperor turned serious as he drove his Gordius Wheel, his red cape flapping in the wind. "No time for this, Saber. We're not getting anywhere like this. Let's withdraw for now!" he said aloud to her.

The woman frowned. "Don't be stupid! We must stop this monster here!"

"But we've exhausted our options. Fall back for now," Shirou replied as well, pointing towards the port. "I have an idea."

The woman gritted her teeth, but she knew that Ruler was right. Her previous plan wasn't paying off, and at this rate the situation was surely going to worsen further if they continued to fight in vain. Therefore, with a deep breath, she began to run on the water, heading back to the shore and withdrawing from her position. As she ran, she killed and slashed and teared apart ebery single demon and tentacle that tried to obstruct her path, clearing her way without the slightest hesitation. At the same time, seeing that their allies were retreating from the battle, Castor and Pollux abandoned their assault and flew to the others as well.

In less than ten seconds, Shirou and the others reunited with Marie and Chevalier D'Eon who were ready and waiting on the harbor shore. Jeanne, Cu Chulainn and the Knights joined them after a few seconds once they killed all the water demons that still roamed free in the port. It was only when the shore was completely cleared of enemies that the Servants began to discuss among themselves again, formulating a strategy.

"Well, that didn't go as planned," D'Eon broke the silence with a flat voice.

Marie nodded dejectedly. "It took all of you guys' efforts just to keep it from coming ashore."

Cu Chulainn grunted as he aimed his weapon towards another familiar swimming in the sea, throwing his spear with a frown and calling it back to him with a mental command after the target was eviscerated. "Tsk. What a pain. I can't reach Caster like this."

Shirou took a step forward and addressed everyone present. "Listen, all of you. Regardless of our previous plan, we must first buy some time to formulate a counter-offensive. We fought that monster for a whole hour with no results. At this rate, we'll run out of energy and the beast will only continue to grow and inevitably reach the city. We cannot allow that. Unfortunately, however, our combined strength isn't enough to stop and kill him, and we have no way to force Caster out of the monster's body. So, the only option we have left is to buy time and concentrate all our efforts on a single combined attack," he explained solemnly.

Bedivere frowned. "How?"

It was Artoria who answered the Knight's question. She had already guessed the Ruler's intentions. "There's no other way. I'll use my Noble Phantasm," she declared in all seriousness, taking a step forward.

Jeanne widened her eyes. "Y-You mean your sword? The legendary Excalibur?"

The female King nodded. She tightened the grip on the hilt of her invisible weapon. "Excalibur is an anti-fortress Noble Phantasm. One of the most powerful weapons in the world. If I activate it fully, we could have a chance of winning this battle," she explained, glancing at her blade.

That statement surprised everyone present, especially her Knights. Bedivere and Gawain assumed an expression mixed between trepidation and resignation at the idea of seeing their King use her legendary weapon again. Mordred, on the other hand, simply clenched her fists and gritted her teeth in frustration, glancing down with an angry scowl. Next to her, Cu Chulainn and Iskandar narrowed their eyes in reflection, while Marie and D'Eon were visibly struggling to decide, uncertain about what to do.

Shirou, on the other hand, assumed an unreadable expression on his face.

Castor glanced at Artoria. "King of Knights. Your Noble Phantasm... can it destroy Caster's monster with a single strike?" he questioned in all seriousness.

"It can," she replied without the slightest hesitation. "I didn't want to use it before because it would consume a lot of my mana, but we have no choice now. I shall unleash Excalibur's full power."

...

"It won't be enough."

...

Everyone's eyes fell on Shirou.

The red-haired Ruler didn't meet their eyes. He didn't even see the stunned and confused face of the blonde woman. His golden-brown eyes were solely focused on the Gigantic Horror that loomed over them, advancing slowly but surely in the waters of the Mediterranean Sea. Still, his words sounded cold, and cruel, and filled with immeasurable anger. An anger that no one, at least among those present, had ever seen before in his face and voice. An anger that made everyone's skin crawl, including Artoria and Iskandar. Even Mordred was confused by the sudden change in her friend's tone.

Shirou looked at the Gigantic Horror, his eyes darkened by his crimson bangs.

"Your Noble Phantasm alone won't be able to destroy it completely, Artoria. Not anymore."

Artoria visibly hesitated. "W-What do you mean, Shirou?" she asked back, confused by his attitude so different from usual.

He merely urged her to look at the monster with a nod of the head.

The woman complied, as did everyone else, and her eyes widened in horror after a single instant.

"T-That's..."

No one was able to add anything to Jeanne's shocked exclamation.

The sight before them was troubling: the horrifying monster was growing in size once again. Worse still, its growing rate was increasing at a breakneck pace. Frighteningly so. It had already reached two hundred meters in height, approximately, but now it was growing even more, and even faster. It was a change visible to the naked eye! Two hundred and ten meters; two hundred and twenty, two hundred and thirty... and it wasn't stopping. Just growing more and more, like a balloon inflating with air. The difference?

What was making him swell was not air, but a sudden surge of prana coming from within the Gigantic Horror itself.

Mordred stared at the scene, wide-eyed. "...what the fuck is happening?" she stuttered incredulously. "Why is that disgusting parasite growing all of a sudden?"

"...it seems we have underestimated Caster," Iskandar noted, crossing his arms and making an expression more serious than ever. His red eyes glanced at Jeanne's shocked face. "Your friend is turning out to be more dangerous than we expected."

The poor girl said nothing, too overwhelmed by pain, disbelief and horror to be able to utter a word. Because what they were feeling and seeing was not a simple influx of ordinary mana. It was no mere empowerment spell, like the ones Marie Antoinette had used to empower Jeanne and her allies before. Nor it was a source of prana borrowed from other living beings. Nope. What they were feeling now was pure, simple and unmistakable life energy. Pure energy, clean and chaste like no other.

Typically, almost all Mages and supernatural entities - and, consequently, Servants and Heroic Spirits as well - were able to feel and detect the mana around them. It was an innate ability for almost every human beings, but it only developed inside the body when a person became more and more akin and accustomed to magic, or the supernatural, or the occult. For this reason, nowadays, almost all Mages were able to detect mana, even if ordinary humans were not even aware of its existence. For some Servants, hence, it was impossible not to be able to perceive that immense amount of prana. And that was the problem for Jeanne and everyone else. Because what the blonde Lancer was feeling now was an immeasurable amount of prana made up of vital energy. Pure, white, untouched vital energy; so candid and pure to her senses that detecting it was both pleasant and creepy at the same time.

Because there was not a single Servant in the world who wouldn't have been able to recognize who that vital energy had belonged to.

Children.

That was energy sucked up entirely from children. Innocent, pure, young children; who knew nothing of the world and who hadn't yet had the opportunity to experience the hardships, difficulties and tragedies of life. Children who - it was impossible to deny it now - Gilles had kidnapped, tortured, and killed... collecting their energy and accumulating it more and more inside his Grimoire, waiting for the ideal moment to release it all in one shot...

And this was the result.

The Gigantic Horror was an Outer God who fed on life energy. The more it consumed, the larger and powerful and monstrous it became. And the purer the energy he devoured was, the more his resistance and power increased as an inevitable consequence.

And that was a truly gruesome sight to behold.

"Hehehehe– HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

Jeanne felt tears begin to fall copiously from her cheeks as Gilles' disturbing laughter began to echo in the air; insane and cruel and unhealthy like never before.

"That fucking monster!" Mordred roared with inhuman ferocity, stomping her foot on the ground and cracking it with a sheer burst of prana. For once, none bothered to scold her for her immeasurable anger. They were all feeling the same outrage as her. "How could he do such a thing? How dare he!?"

Pollux approached her brother, unconsciously grabbing his arm with a sad look on her face. "That's why Caster only revealed his presence five days ago," she realized in a devastated voice. "All those continuous disappearances, the mysterious kidnappings in the capital, the news that circulated in France until recently… they were all Gilles' doing. He has spent all those weeks capturing children like me and brother, collecting and storing their energy."

Just like he had done during the final years of his life.

Shirou clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles cracked. He fought hard to swallow his growing anger, his body trembling visibly. He couldn't cause a scene here… but he would be damned if he dared to tolerate such an outrage for a second longer! He had to stop that monster at any cost, even if it were the last thing he did. And this was a promise. A promise that he would carry out without further hesitation.

Caster dared to kill innocent children? He dared to do such a horrible thing without any hesitation? He dared to kill little children because of his mad lust for blood?

Fine.

Screw the attack. Screw the secrecy. Screw his real identity. Screw Alaya and Gaia.

He was going to kill him.

He was going to kill him in the worst way possible: with his greatest weapon.

The God of War secretly glanced at the King of Knights, his eyes lingering upon that invisible blade of hers.

Even if he wasn't going to be the one to use it.

And even if it was going to be painful to watch.

His fists clenched. He destroyed his katana with the sheer force of his grasp, shattering it without even noticing.

It was time.

Shirou turned and began to speak again to Artoria in a cold voice. "I'll be honest. Under normal circumstances, your sword would be more than enough to completely obliterate such a monster, King of Knights. But now that Caster has made that horror absorb so much energy, I doubt the result will be the same. His regenerative abilities are genuinely frightening," Shirou stated seriously, without turning to his allies. Artoria and the other observed him with all the attention in the world. "Excalibur alone won't be enough to destroy that monster now. Not anymore. Not after accumulating so much prana. That weapon alone won't be enough."

It was a lie, of course. A lie with a little bit of truth. After all, Excalibur was one of the most powerful weapons – if not THE most powerful weapon – he had forged during his lifetime. It was a miracle, literally, which had been given physical form thanks to his soul, the intervention of the Fae, and his powers. It was the pinnacle of his creations. The perfect and absolute weapon, with which the God of War had killed and annihilated countless enemies. His most faithful companion, with which he had overthrown powerful opponents such as the Gods, a few Types, and even his... blood mother. The sword that very few Divine Weapons could hope to match. There was nothing - almost entirely nothing - that could resist and survive the full power of Excalibur unleashed upon them…

…but there was a condition.

To unleash its full potential, Excalibur had to be wielded by its real master. It had to return into the hands of the one who shared the same soul whose sword was a mere fragment and representation.

That is, in other words... him.

The only one who could use the full power of Excalibur – or rather, Caledfwlch – was Shirou Emiya alone.

But now, that sword belonged to King Arthur. And in spite of the fact that the King of Knights was immensely powerful and had gained almost unmatched power thanks to her renowned legend and fame... she had never been the true owner of the Sword of Promised Victory. She had been deemed worthy of the Sword, yes, but she didn't have the necessary soul to wield and use that weapon to the fullest. Artoria Pendragon and Shirou Emiya were similar. They had many things in common, and there was no way to deny it (this was precisely the reason why she was worthy of wielding that weapon) but they weren't exactly the same. Their souls were, still, different. Therefore, it was going to be impossible for her to defeat the enhanced monster with the Sword alone.

But, fortunately for her, he had other options.

Artoria stared at Shirou with narrowed eyes filled with interest. "How? How do you know that?" she questioned, unable to completely mask her suspicion.

He paid no mind to her doubts and questions, and not even to Iskandar's and Mordred's inquisitive look after that revelation. Instead, he turned to Marie Antoinette, staring at the Queen straight in the eyes. "Queen Marie. Can you use your Noble Phantasm to clear the way for Artoria when she'll use her sword?" he asked her slowly.

The platinum-blonde haired woman nodded with a confused expression. "Oui, of couse... but what are you planning to do?"

Shirou turned towards Artoria, his face a mask of steel as he stared at her. "We'll do exactly what she wants," he replied simply. "Artoria's going to use use her sword to kill Caster's monster. But, at the same time, some of you will do the same with your own Noble Phantasms. As I said before, the only way to kill such a strong monster is to launch a single and direct combined attack."

The others widened their eyes after hearing this, gaping in surprise.

"You… You want us to release our Noble Phantasms all at the same time?" Castor asked. Even the small Berserker was a little surprised by the revelation.

The God of War nodded. "Yes. There are eleven of us, so attacking individually would be disadvantageous and pointless against such a beast. But if some of us attack it at the same time while the others protect the port and keep Caster's familiars away, we may have a chance of destroying it." He stared at all of them at the same time.

"Is this plan acceptable to you guys?"

Everyone exchanged a glance for several seconds. Then, slowly, they gazed at the looming figure of the Horror that was continuing to grow more and more, approaching the shore slowly. It had now reached three hundred meters in size, and showed no sign of stopping. At this rate, he would reach the shore in less than five minutes. They had no time to waste on hesitation and uncertainty.

In the end, everyone nodded in resolution.

"Very well," Artoria spoke for everyone. "We'll do as you say, Shirou."

The red-haired Ruler hid a little smile. "Good. We will then divide into three groups. Artoria, Mordred, Gawain and Bedivere. You four are going to release your Noble Phantasms at the same time. Aim at the monster's body. Your combined efforts and the power of four Noble Phantasms should be enough to destroy it completely."

The Knights turned serious and shared a nod with their King. There was no trace of hesitation in their eyes. Mordred, on the other hand, remained on the sidelines with an unreadable expression on her face.

Shirou addressed her directly. "Can I trust you on this, kid? Can you do it for me?"

The female Knight hesitated a couple of moments. She glanced at her father, then at Shirou, and then at her father again. Then, she looked down with a hesitant expression. A glimpse of uncertainty flashed in her emerald eyes for several seconds. Eventually, though, the girl clenched her fists and tightened her grip on Clarent, dissolving her previous hesitation like smoke.

"...let's do this," was all she said with a curt nod.

The Ruler smiled in gratitude. "Thanks, Mordred. I won't forget this," he told her sincerely. Soon after that, he turned his attention back to the others and returned as serious as before. "Jeanne, Cu Chulainn, D'Eon and the Twins. You five will be the vanguard. You'll have to keep the water demons at bay while the others prepare to release the Noble Phantasms. Make sure they don't reach them, and protect the Queen as well when she'll use her spell to boost Artoria's abilities and prana. Can you do it?"

All of them nodded firmly.

"Who do you take us for, Ruler? That's nothing we can't handle," the Irish Lancer smirked with a grin.

"Good. Then I leave the rest to you guys."

"Wait, boy," Iskandar suddenly intervened, attracting everyone's attention. Shirou turned to him, meeting his confused and frowning gaze. "What I'm supposed to do? You haven't given me any role. You know I don't like being ordered around, but I won't accept to stand by and do nothing. Surely you didn't forget about me, right?"

Shirou's lips curled into an amused smile. He had expected a similar reaction from the muscular Rider. How very typical of him. "Of course not, Rider. You have the most important task. That's why I kept you for last," he retorted casually with a strange smile on his lips.

A wide, excited grin spilt the King's features, his former disappointment completely forgotten. "Hoh? Is that so? What is it, then? " he asked impatiently, almost like a child. "Come on, don't leave me hanging!"

The response he received, however, was not what he was expecting.

Shirou's smile disappeared all of a sudden.

"I need you to bring me close Caster's monster right after the others release their attacks."

Iskandar stared. He blinked once, then twice. Then, he stared some more.

"Huh... what?" he finally replied after a few seconds of sheer confusion, tilting his head to the side.

Shirou's expression was as inflexible and solemn as ever. "You heard me. After Mordred and the others will release their Noble Phantasms, you'll need to fly your chariot and bring me close to the remains of the Gigantic Horror. It's simple, right?"

The tall, muscular Rider scratched his head. Even the others looked fairly confused by Shirou's explanation. "Well, yes, indeed… but why? What are you planning to do?" he questioned him again.

His companion just smiled a strange smile, much to his and everyone else's confusion. "It's simple: if the combined attack won't be enough to annihilate the monster, you and I will have to finish it off. That's our role," he explained, before falling into a deep silence.

Iskandar let out a long sigh, but decided not to argue any further. Although he didn't like the idea of not fighting directly, he had learned to trust Shirou's strategies. He knew that this Ruler always had something specific in mind, and his plans had always worked out until this day. He had no reason to doubt his decisions.

Shirou turned once again to the King of Knights. "Artoria, the rest is up to you and your Knights. I don't know if your attack will be enough to destroy that monster or not… but please be careful. I'll rest my hope of victory upon your blade and put my faith in you."

Artoria stared at him with a solemn expression. Then, slowly, a tiny, resolute smile formed on the woman's lips, while at the same time a small gust of wind began to swirl around her and her invisible sword.

"Very well. I accept your plan, Shirou," she declared firmly. She raised her right arm in front of her, grabbing the hilt of her weapon with both hands. "And upon my sword... I swear victory to all of you!"

The proud King of Knights raised her arms to the sky, and suddenly, with a powerful gust of wind and energy, the Invisible Air that clouded her weapon began to dissolve in an instant, revealing her weapon to everyone and the whole world. The Divine blade par excellence… the sword of the undefeated King… and the most powerful Divine Construct ever created before the end of the Age of Gods. The Holy Sword of Promised Victory.

Excalibur appeared to life in a flash of bright, golden light.

The blade itself lit up the night like a beacon, generating a warm, soft light that seemed to dazzle the whole world for an instant. Illuminated by its everlasting light, the Servants around Artoria stared at the Sword with admiration and wonder, their faces now turned to masks of amazement and shock, still incredulous and unable to realize that they were really setting their eyes on the most famous sword in the world. On a living legend; perhaps the most famous of all human history.

Apart from Bedivere and Gawain who just smiled with joy at the sight of their King's weapon, a weapon they hadn't seen since times long past, the others were completely overwhelmed by stupor and amazement. Marie was gaping in astonishment, her expression completely different from her usual and elegant regal calm, and D'Eon was staring at the golden sword in marvel. Jeanne watched the Holy Weapon with wide eyes, and even the Dioscuri studied the luminous blade with obvious awe and intrigue, marveling at its elegant and Divine appearance.

Among the present, Iskandar widened his eyes slightly, similarly to Cu Chulainn, before sparing a fleeting glance at Mordred. The Knight of Treachery was observing her father's golden sword with a conflicted look: a mixture of sadness, anger and regret all together. She was scowling, her frowning face highlighted by the dazzling light of the blade, clenching her fists so hard that her arms trembled slightly. However, there was something strange in her eyes. Something like awe and confusion, and this was strange. Why on earth did she have to be confused at the sight of that sword? It certainly couldn't be the first time she'd seen her, after all.

But it was in that moment that Iskandar realized that he was wrong. Mordred wasn't looking at her father's sword right now. Not at all. She wasn't looking at Excalibur.

The girl's eyes were fixed and focused solely on Shirou.

Iskandar followed her gaze, and felt his eyebrows rise in sheer shock and confusion.

Shirou was crying.

Long, wet trails of tears were falling from his eyes, dripping copiously from his chin and furrowing his face almost unnaturally in the Sword's light. His face was firm, hard, almost emotionless… but his eyes were another story entirely. His eyes were different, completely different. There was so much emotion in those amber eyes that it was... it was impossible to describe it in words. Joy, elation, sadness, regret, pain, anger, desperation... a mixture so dense and deep of emotions that even Iskandar, a man who'd seen the best and worst of humanity, found himself unable to fully understand. It was impossible – literally impossible – to describe all the emotions that were flashing in the red-haired Ruler's eyes as he gazed upon the golden sword in the hands of the King of Knights.

And again, much to Iskandar's and Mordred's growing confusion, Shirou's right hand was twitching, his arm shaking completely. He raised his arm, lowered it, raised it one last time, and then lowered it again; almost as if he was trying to grasp something. As if he was trying to grab the sword, but he was scared and conflicted about that idea. And this was strange. Definitely strange. Neither Iskandar nor Mordred could ignore such an attitude. What was going on here? Why was Ruler reacting in such a bizarre way? They had never seen him act like this before. What the hell was wrong with him?

By then, everyone had noticed his strange reaction. Even Artoria herself.

"Shirou...?"

The man physically jumped after hearing the woman call his name, his eyes widening in an inhuman – almost comical – way. He teared his gaze away from the sword and began to look around frantically, glancing at everyone's faces as they stared at him with obvious confusion and worry. He looked like a frightened animal cornered by its predators, or a sleepwalker just awakened abruptly from sleep, from a deep trance. It was such an extremely different contrast to his usual behavior that everyone was left bewildered and confused; mostly because no one had any idea of what was happening to him. There was absolutely no reason for him to react that way. It was worrying, especially for his companions and Artoria.

Mordred was the first to move towards him. "Ohi... what's wrong with you, Ruler?" she asked him, her voice low and hesitant. She seemed strangely worried about him; which was surprising, given that Mordred didn't usually care about anything or anyone.

Shirou didn't answer, wincing again and shaking his head on impulse, touching his tear-streaked cheeks in a confused and bewildered way.

"Boy, are you alright?" the King of Conquerors asked as well, putting a hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"

He swallowed, stared at all of them, and shuddered. Again, his eyes fell to the golden sword in Artoria's hands. "I... I-I just..."

He didn't finish his sentence, and everyone was confused by his reaction.

Even the King of Knights stepped forward with obvious concern, lowering her weapon to the side. She reached out to Shirou, trying to touch his arm. "Shirou, what's wrong?"

But he stopped her.

Shirou abruptly raised one hand, using the other one to wipe the tears from his face. Artoria stopped short, shocked and puzzled by his sudden gesture, but she didn't move further. Still, she did not fail to notice that for every step forward she had taken, the red-haired Ruler took as many backward. Almost as if he wanted to get away from her; as if he wanted to put some distance between the two of them for some unknown reason. But there was something strange, and she immediately noticed it. It wasn't her that Shirou was backing away from, but her Sword. Excalibur. He was distancing himself from Excalibur. He wanted to keep his distance from the Sacred Blade, almost… almost as if he was scared of it.

And that left her deeply perplexed.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, don't sweat it. Sorry if I worried you," he spoke in the end, his voice returned serious, hard, and inflexible as ever. He looked away from the sword and from his allies, returning to stare at the Gigantic Horror that in the meantime had advanced ten meters into the sea, getting closer and closer to the shore. He was about to reach four hundred meters in size now, and his imposing figure towered taller than a skyscraper. "Let's not waste any more time. We have far more pressing matters to deal with."

Artoria, Mordred and Iskandar studied his face for a few seconds. They all knew something was wrong with him, but they didn't know what to do in this kind of situation. The Knight of Treachery tried to argue again, but she didn't have time.

In fact; in that exact, same moment, something happened.

A powerful roar echoed in the air, followed by a dull hiss similar to the sound of the wind roaring furiously during a storm. And as seconds passed, the sound grew louder, heavier, and closer. Shirou, Iskandar, Mordred and all the others snapped their head in the direction from which that sudden noise was coming: above. Their eyes immediately found the cause and source of that sudden commotion: an F-15 Fighter Jet, similar to the one that had previously been devoured by the Gigantic Horror. The flying vehicle had suddenly appeared from the highest clouds in the sky, swooping downward at full speed.

"What?" Mordred grunted, confused by the sudden appearance. "Another one?"

"Is it going for the monster again?" Marie asked, her voice strangely lower than usual.

The Servants watched the jet descend for several seconds, getting faster and faster. Closer and closer.

"…no."

Everyone felt their bodies stiffen when they saw the flying vehicle swoop down towards them.

Shirou's eyes narrowed.

"It's coming for us!" he exclaimed in alarm.

Everyone widened their eyes and reacted on instinct.

The jet flew at full speed, starting to fire at the Heroic Spirits with a machine gun.

The eleven comrades gritted their teeth and gasped, but they still managed to react quickly. Artoria and the Knights darted immediately to the left, starting to sprint with powerful Mana Bursts to avoid the rain of bullets directed at them. Marie also acted immediately, summoning her crystal stallion and climbing on its back together with D'Eon and Jeanne, moving away at maximum speed from the enemy range. Iskandar did the same with his chariot, grabbing Shirou and Mordred and taking off with a swipe of the reins at the bulls.

Those who remained on the spot were solely Cu Chulainn and the Dioscuri. The Twins, unlike all the others, were unable to react promptly against the unexpected attack, and they couldn't do anything but widen their eyes and gasp in terror as the rain of bullets rained mercilessly on them. Yet, luckily for them, the blue Lancer narrowed his eyes and reacted swiftly to defend them.

Cu Chulainn sprinted in front of them with inhuman, almost bestial speed, and raised his arms with an irritated growl. Then, with masterful and unmatched skill, he began rotating his red spear with his arms, effectively spinning it at breakneck speed and using it as a moving shield to deflect and parry all the projectiles directed at them. Despite the recklessness, his strength and his ability allowed him to deflect all the bullets, effectively managing to protect the Gemini thanks to his actions. Seeing that the attack was useless, the jet stopped firing with the machine gun, shooting to the right and moving away to regain altitude and take aim again towards the targets now scattered along the port. A prodigious gust of wind was generated by his maneuver, crashing into the fleeing Servants.

The Irish Lancer sighed, his red eyes always fixed on the flying vehicle. "Ohi, you ok there?" he asked the Dioscuri.

Pollux swallowed nervously. "Y-Yes… you saved us, Lancer," she thanked him with a nod of gratitude, her body still shaking for shock.

"Keh! No sweat, lads."

Castor snarled furiously, his entire body enveloped in snapping, furious lightning. "That damned, impudent human! What does he think he's doing!?" he roared furiously, more angry than a beast. He was more than ready and willing to take flight to completely destroy that sudden attacker without any mercy for the affront he had suffered.

"That's no mere human, kid," Shirou spoke suddenly as Iskandar's chariot approached them with an electric hiss. His narrowed eyes fixed the flying vehicle with a cold and calculating gaze, detecting that familiar signature of prana with quite a bit of difficulty. Why didn't he feel that presence before? "It's a Servant. There's another Servant flying that plane."

The others widened their eyes at the sudden revelation, but had no way to speak further. All of a sudden, in fact, the jet made a vertical maneuver and changed its trajectory abruptly, starting to fly in their direction once again. It began firing its machine gun without giving them a single moment of respite. The Servants had no choice but to start running and moving away from the enemy's range of attack, splitting in different directions to avoid the incessant rain of bullets. Still, the new enemy didn't seem to have any intention of letting them go. The jet began to fly towards Artoria and the Knights, aiming and firing at them as the three Servants ran furiously and dodged the projectile with leaps, sprints and dashes in all directions.

Shirou cursed inside his head. Whoever was driving that jet was clearly intent on killing them. 'First the monster, and now this? Who the hell is this Servant? Why is he targetting us? Why us and not the monster? Is he on Caster's side?' he reasoned furiously inside his head.

There was no answer to his questions. In the end, The King and his loyal Knights managed to take cover behind a crossover pile of rubble near the harbor shore. The bullets rained down on the pile of debris and concrete, but failed to hit them. The flying vehicle darted left at full speed, preparing to maneuver and change direction once again.

Mordred growled as she, Iskandar, and Shirou continued to fly into the sky on Gordius Wheel, avoiding the flying vehicle's path with a sharp maneuver. The chariot was almost hit by the jet bcause of a sudden dash, but they barely avoided it. "Damn it! That stupid Servant! What the hell is wrong with him?" the female Knight spat in rage.

Shirou summoned his bow and fired a couple of arrows at the flying target, but his efforts were fruitless. The jet spun across the sky in an impressive maneuver, spinning several times to the right before soaring up and changing direction abruptly, skilfully avoiding the arrows and heading in the direction of Marie and Jeanne. The God of War narrowed his eyes in irritation as the enemy dropped altitude.

Jeanne yelped as she ran away from yet another hail of bullets and took cover behind a column of iron and concrete amidst some debris. "G-Guys, can't we do anything about him?"

"I'll go!" Castor roared, his body starting to float in the air, immersed in a mist of electric and snappy lightning. The twin's face was contracted in a snarl of pure rage and ferocity, his eyes promising vengeance and death for the one who had dared to threaten him and his sister. He would never have forgiven such an affront. Whoever that new Servant was, he would tear him apart without mercy.

Still, a hand slowly landed on his shoulder.

"Wait, lad," Cu Chulainn spoke solemnly, his eyes focused on the jet that was now chasing Marie and D'Eon, attempting to shoot them. "I'll deal with the jet. You guys take care of the enemy once he will come out."

Castor hissed furiously, but did nothing to argue. Pollux glanced at the blue Lancer as she readied her sword and began flying through the air next to her brother. "Can you really hit him from this distance, Lancer?"

In response, the man merely smirked confidently. "He may have locked himself up in that junk of metal, but he's as good as naked before my spear!"

The Hound of Culann didn't waste a single second, focusing his mind completely. The air hissed with wind and prana around him. In an instant, faster than lightning, he raised the spear with one arm, took aim with maximum precision and narrowed his eyes slightly. A burst of energy coursed through his body, swirling, dancing, enveloping his entire frame. A cloak of flaming red energy coated the spear completely, as small gusts of wind began to swirl around the tip.

He waited one, single second.

Then, with wide eyes and a grin of power and decision, the Irish Hero threw the spear with a mighty roar.

"Gáe Bolg!"

The world stilled for a second. A red beam shot across the sky, faster than a missile. The air hissed for a split second. Then, everything slowed down as the spear reached the jet, regardless of its speed, trajectory, or any other physical and natural factor. And then, with an almost imperceptible, the entire spear thrusted itself into the left side of the flying vehicle, hitting the engine with inhuman precision.

Finally, a red beam shone in the distance, followed by a loud, powerful explosion that shook the air as the entire flying vehicle exploded into thousanda of pieces, completely destroyed by Lancer's single attack.

Cu Chulainn smirked under everyone's impressed gaze, calling back the spear to him with a mental command. His favorite weapon returned to the man's hand, flying at a speed fast enough to reach him in less than a blink of an eye. And yet, to everyone's amazement and suspicion, no Servant came out of the wreckage of the plane which rained hopelessly into the sea. Whoever had been flying the jet had apparently disappeared entirely without a trace. He was either dead, or he had managed to escape somehow.

And that couldn't mean anything good.

Shirou gritted his teeth in frustration and suspicion, but decided that he could take care of this matter later. "Let's not waste any more time!" he then declared aloud from the flying chariot, addressing all of his allies with a deep, poweful voice. "Caster's monster is about to reach the shore! We have to stop him! It's now or never!"

The others hesitated only a second before nodding resolutely.

Artoria, Bedivere and Gawain were the first to react. They jumped out of their cover of debris and rubble, running at full speed towards the edge of the harbor and stopping on the beach, exactly in front of the sea shore, with the waves bathing their steeled boots. At the same time, Jeanne and Chevalier D'Eon moved to join them, eyeing warily Caster's familiars who were still swimming in the sea, ready to kill and destroy them if they even attempted to get close to the King and the Knights as they prepared to release their Noble Phantasms. But they knew there would be no need.

On the other side of the harbor, in fact, Marie had already started her chant, closing her eyes and remaining elegantly sitting on the back of a beautiful horse made of glass and imprinted with lilies. The Queen's sweet and bewitching voice rang sweetly in the air, flooding each Servant with a feeling of peace, power, and indescribable refreshment.

And thus, Marie Antoinette began singing in French.

"Wishing to blossom, visibly in the open!"
"Dancing, to blossom in full glory!"

The crystal horse let out a neigh and reared on its hind legs. Soon after that, with grace and elegance, it began dashing through the battlefield, running all over the harbor while sending radiant particles of light swirling all about. Then, with a second neigh, the beautiful steed began to run across the surface of the sea, investing and dealing damage to all the water demons that tried to approach, before taking a portentous leap into the air and heading in front of the Gigantic Horror that was coming closer and closer.

And still, Marie continued to sing with a broad smile on her lips.

"Passing through... Guillotine Breaker!"

The effect was immediate.

As soon as the horse landed on the water with a stomp, a small rain of white energy began to fall from the sky, invigorating the Servants and healing their fatigue, their wounds, and their nearly depleted mana. At the same time, huge columns of pointed crystals suddenly sprouted from the water, hitting, drilling and killing all the horrible familiars that were still alive. But not only that: three large, gigantic blocks of luminous crystal appeared in front of the Gigantic Horror at the exact same time, blocking its way and immobilizing it for several seconds; preventing it from moving and giving Artoria and everyone else time to prepare and aim with extreme precision.

The misshapen beast roared furiously, flailing its tentacles in attempt to destroy the crystals and free itself once again.

Then, her job finished, the platinum-blonde Queen guided her horse away, reuniting with Jeanne, D'Eon, Cu Chulainn and the Dioscuri, giggling all the while.

Shirou's expression turned solemn. "It's time," he said, turning to Mordred. "Go, kid. We're counting on you."

The Knight of Treachery shared a nod with him and the King of Conquerors, leaping out of the chariot with one big leap and a grin. She landed in a squat on the shore next to Artoria and the Knights, strightened, and brought Clarent in front of her with both arms, building up energy in her body as the sword blade began to coat itself with red bolts of lightning that made the air hiss and the water at her feet crackle.

"Let's do this," she exclaimed fiercely, glaring at the Gigantic Horror with a twisted face.

Artoria and the others nodded, raising their weapons to the sky and building up as much energy as they could.

Bedivere grabbed his prosthetic arm, lifting and pointing it upwards as it suddenly started to glow with a golden-yellow light.

Gawain readied his long broadsword, lowering his arms slowly and placing his weapon on his right side in a stance, ready to release all of its energy. Just like his King's sword and Bedivere's prosthetic arm, Galatine began to glow in a golden-yellow light.

Mordred grinned ferally, her blade instantly clad in roaring flames and bolts of red lightining.

And Artoria...

The King of Knights raised her luminous Sword with both arms, holding it above her head. Excalibur's golden blade began to glow with energy, becoming brighter and brighter; more blinding and more dazzling. In less than two seconds, small bits of light began to appear around it. Little golden bits, like fireflies flying in the night; emerging out of the water, from the sand on the beach and even from the air itself. They glowed and glowed and glowed, accumulating and merging into the blade of the Holy Sword, making it become more and more majestic and dazzling as the seconds passed.

And around them, in the distance, absolute silence began to reign once again. Jeanne, Marie Antoinette, D'Eon, the Twins, Cu Chulainn, and even Iskandar from his chariot watched the scene with attention and bated breath. Nobody uttered a single word, nobody did anything but observe, unable to move and react in front of that light and that wonder that was coming to life before their very own eyes.

All the Servants stared in wonder and trepidation as King Arthur Pendragon raised her legendary weapon; the Sword that was the embodiment of the sad, yet noble dream of all warriors of the past, present and future. The dream of those who always fought without ever giving up. Of those who lay dying on the field of battle, clutched to their hearts with their last breath. Of those who fought without fear, hoping for a miracle even after their death.

She carried their Will as her pride, their Hopes as her fuel, their Dreams as her strenght; bidding them to remain steadfast in their loyalty while she carried all the people's whishes upon herself.

And while the others couldn't help but stare in wonder and trepidation… while his friends and allies could do nothing but wait and watch that golden light with bated breath… Shirou stared at the woman and her Sword with a sad, conflicted expression; fighting hard to stop the tears from forming again in his eyes.

He knew he should have expected it. He knew this was going to happen. It was inevitable. It was the same reason he had been so hesitant to approach and see that blade until now. He knew it. He knew.

But still, no matter how hard he struggled and tried to hold back the memories and his inner turmoil... he couldn't help but react that way.

Shirou felt his eyes begin to water.

And the King and her Knights raised their weapons, aiming at the gigantic deformed monster.

A hand-made copy forged by the Fairies to recreate his Holy Sword. A copy of the sun itself, of which the blade was said to represent the rays of heat coming from the sun. The holy Sword of Revolving Victory, capable of burning and destroying almost anything before its path.

"Excalibur Galatine!"

Nuada's Divine Construct silver arm, forged more than four thousand years ago by a long forgotten God. A distorted and particular creation, discovered and concealed by Merlin, whose new existence was given for the one and only purpose of returning the Holy Sword and its light to the Lake.

"Switch On: Airgetlám!"

The ornate, sparkling white silver sword adorned with splendid decorations, acting as a symbol of kingship denoting the right of succession for the throne of Camelot. A treasured sword, usually bestowed during the succession of kingship, stolen by a desperate Son in order to receive her Father's acknowledgment.

"Clarent Blood Arthur!"

And then, the Ultimate Blade.

His most powerful creation. His ever faithful friend. His bestest companion. His most loyal partner in combat and life. One of the two halves of his very own soul.

And thus, once again, the God of War shed a lone, single tear from his eye while the undefeated King sang aloud the name of the Miracle she held in her hands.

Shirou smiled a sad smile...

…as Artoria unleashed the full power of the Sword with a cry that promised victory in every battlefield.

And its name was...

"EXCALIBUR!"

What happened next cannot be described with words.

There are no sentences, there are no words, there are no concepts capable of describing the scene that occurred when the King and his Knights released their Noble Phantasms. For those who watched that scene, that sight would forever be etched in their hearts and minds, unable to forget it. The consecutive release of the four attacks looked like a giant beam of light. An immense wave of energy composed of three distinct rays of prana. A white ray, a red ray, and an immense, indescribable ray of golden light. All of them released at the same time. They all fused together into one, and then slammed themself on the Gigantic Horror with an absurd roar, generating an immense column of light that silhouetted against the sky for almost an entire kilometer.

The rest became an immense succession of blinding lights, thunderous waves and earthquakes. It was impossible to observe the direct effect of the combined attack. But then, when the dazzling light thinned out and the trembling of the ground and air ceased, total silence descended over the port and the entire area afflicted by the attack. Thank goodness, the port was already destroyed and devoid of ships, otherwise the energy blast would have destroyed everything. There was no longer a trace of the Gigantic Horror or the other water demons now, though all that was left of Caster's summon was a tiny mass of pulsating flesh floating in the sea water, twitching faintly as if it were at the end of life.

All of them stared in silence at the bare landscape while the sea water slowly stopped stirring.

Shirou's eyes narrowed when they saw a small portion of the Gigantic Horror's body floating in the waves. 'As expected, that repulsive Outer God managed to survive the combined attack,' he mused with an incredulous frown. 'Damn it. For such an entity to be that resilient... Caster must have fed it with an insane amount of mana. How many lives has he sacrificed to make that monster so strong? Something like this would never have been possible normally.'

Still, despite his lingering questions, he knew he didn't have time to waste.

"There!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger out of the flying chariot, at the small mass of pulsing flesh that was waving faintly on the surface of the sea. He motioned to Iskandar with an arm, urging him to drive the chariot as quickly as possible. "Bring us there, Rider. Quickly!"

The King of Conquerors reacted accordingly. With a bellowing roar of the bulls, the mighty Rider guided the chariot towards the target that was barely alive, approaching the point where Caster's monster had been a few minutes earlier. It took them ten seconds to reach the target floating in the water, and the sight they faced was not a pleasant one. On the contrary, it was revolting and almost nauseating.

The mass of flesh that had managed to survive the combined attack of Artoria and the Knights was nothing more than a globe of bright red flesh covered in blood. It was about two meters in size, throbbing and dripping with blood and green liquid that emitted an unpleasant odor, and was frantically agonizing in the water like a severed limb with its nerves still functioning. The water around it stirred, staining itself with a red color mixed with green that wasn't pleasant to the eye or smell. Still, Shirou immediately recognized what that heap of flesh was: the demon's heart. The heart of the Outer God had managed – miraculously – to survive the attack. And at this rate, if it was given the time and energy to recover, it would have been able to recover and heal completely.

He couldn't allow it.

The red-haired Ruler wasted no time. With a disgusted growl, he grabbed the pulsing tangle of flesh with his left hand and summoned a long sword with his right one. Then, without hesitating for even a second, he slashed the meat in half with a vertical cut, opening the demon's disgusting gut in half. There, exactly as he had expected, his target burst out of the severed heart, dripping with blood and with several limbs missing.

Gilles de Rais was still alive, but extremely close to death and with no hope of survival. He was wounded and full of cuts in multiple parts, especially on his face and chest, and his clothes were horribly ruined compared to before. His hair was burnt and stained with blood, and he had lost his left arm and leg, both reduced to a pulp of mangled flesh and bones. He was holding in his only remaining hand his Grimoire and Noble Phantasm – Prelati's Spellbook. Shirou snatched it from his hand with a casual movement, and with a second slash of his sword he completely severed the tome in half, causing it to dissolve in a cloud of foul-smelling black smoke. As soon as the book disappeared, the demon's severed heart suddenly stopped stirring, unable to exist in the real world without its magical link.

A moment later, the entire mass of flesh dissolved into a dust of prana, vanishing once and for all. And the Outer God from the parallel universe vanished forever from the face of the Earth.

Shirou held Gilles' blood-dripping body, observing him with an expression of pure disgust and anger.

"…It seems that you were right, boy. He did manage to survive," Iskandar commented next to him, glancing at the defeated Caster with the same amount of disgust. "But I doubt he has long to live."

Gilles spat blood from his lips, moaning and mumbling incoherent and meaningless words.

The Ruler dragged him onto the wagon with a cold and emotionless gaze, making him sit with a delicacy that this man did not deserve at all. For all that Gilles had done and caused, he should have killed him instantly... but he didn't. He stopped his urge to slit his throat and kill him in the worst and most painful way possible.

After all, there was still one last matter to deal with him.

The God of War pointed his gaze to the shore with a blank face.

"He's already dead for me. But the living are not done with him yet."

They brought him back to the shore.

Mordred, Artoria, and all the others were already waiting for them. As soon as Gordius Wheel landed on solid ground again, everyone's faces became tense and heavy. None of those present failed to notice the third passenger in the chariot, including his horrible conditions. Not that they felt sorry for him, of course – Gilles de Rais had proved several times to be a madman more monster than human – but to see a person or a Servant reduced to such pitiful and miserable conditions was something that no Hero worthy of that title would have liked to see. Unlike him, they still had their humanity inside.

Shirou lifted Caster's wounded and battered body, heedless of the blood that stained his bare chest and arms, and got out of the chariot with Iskandar. He laid him slowly on the sand of the beach, watching as the insane Servant rasped and panted softly, struggling to breathe and stay alive. Then, without further ado, he straightened his back, let out a long sigh, and turned his gaze to a certain member of the group.

"Jeanne."

The Maid of Orleans nervously clenched her hands together.

Shirou gently urged her with a nod of the head. "Come."

Slowly, but surely, the blonde girl obeyed. She moved hesitantly next to Gilles's dying body, observing him with a devastated expression. Small, glittering tears bagen to form in the corners of her eyes, her arms trembling slightly for the emotion and pain she was feeling inside. Never in her entire existence would she have imagined ending up in such a situation. To see a dear friend and comrade in arms reduced to such a pitiful state, both in mind and body.

But still, the Saint would not turn away from her duty. With newfound resolve, Jeanne knelt beside Caster, placing a hand on his chest while he panted slowly.

"...Gilles."

The mad Servant narrowed his eyes, his expression relaxed and serene. He seemed at peace now, and even his face looked less twisted and mad than usual. He looked… he looked almost normal, actually. However, whether this was due to his proximity to death or some other reason, the girl and the others had no way of knowing.

Gilles de Rais tentatively grabbed her hand with his, squeezing it with a weak, feeble grip.

"D-Dear Maiden," he whispered, his voice broken, low, and full of blood and pain. "I... have... failed you..."

Her tears overflowed even more. "G-Gilles..."

"I beg... your forgiveness... Jeanne..." the man rasped once again, his breaths coming out irregular and faint. His body shook by a sudden coughing fit, but he didn't stop talking. "I hate... everything... and everyone... I-I tried-"

The Maid of Orleans shook her head, putting her other hand on his.

"No, Gilles... I'm the one who should apologize," she said in a soft voice. Her smile was sad, melancholy, full of regret and pain; but it was sincere. It was a real, sincere smile aimed to her friend after all this time. "You did this, you became like this because of me. Because of my death and my actions. I… I should have been more careful with you. I should have seen the seeds of madness inside your heart and stayed close to you, but instead I decided to ignore it and follow my path untroubled, keeping my distance from you and everyone else. That… was a mistake on my part. I'm sorry," she admitted softly.

The man swallowed slowly, his lips and mouth wet with blood.

"But despite everything you've done… I cannot bring myself to hate you, Gilles. So please... even if it's useless, even if it's too late for both of us now, allow me to say the truth for one, last time."

Gilles cried, shedding a few tears of his own.

Jeanne raised Caster's hand and squeezed it gently, offering him one last, tearful, parting smile.

"I forgive you, my friend."

Gilles de Rais smiled with his own, teary smile.

"I… I hope your words from Saint-Denis were true, Jeanne," he whispered in the end. "I hope there's another life after this one... that God can be merciful. And when it is your time... I will find you..."

His eyes started to close, his gaze becoming glossy and devoid of life.

"And then... there will be... no doubts..."

Caster disappeared into a dust of prana.

Jeanne d'Arc closed her eyes with a solemn face, letting her tears flow without trying to stop them.

And thus died Gilles de Rais, one of the cruelest and most twisted Servants in mankind's history.

The Maid of Orlean kept kneeling on the ground for some time, with her hands joined together and her eyes closed in prayer. She couldn't tell how long she stood in that position, tears still streaming from her face, but if she had to be honest she didn't care. What really mattered for her was that the catastrophe had been stopped. That her friend had been released. And that, above all, she had been able to apologize to him one last time. This was what really mattered to her. And now, now all that was left to do was begin to accept her new path, her new purpose. A purpose which - as she had now learned with sad resignation - could breing to various consequences for both good and evil.

And that was fine. Because this time, she was prepared to accept it.

'Goodbye, my friend,' she prayed one last time, a sweet smile on her lips and her thoughts focused to her old comrade in arms. 'May the Lord have mercy upon your soul.'

After what seemed like an eternity to her, Jeanne felt a hand gently resting on her shoulder. Her smile widened. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. His touch gentle and yet cold as metal was unmistakable. "Are you ok?" came the voice of the red-haired Ruler from behind her.

Jeanne smiled, rising from the sand and giving Shirou a grateful smile. "I'm fine. Thank you, Shirou," she replied sincerely.

The God of War looked into her eyes for several seconds. Then he smiled at her too, nodding in relief and relaxing his shoulders visibly as he let out a small breath from his nose. Behind him and around the blonde Lancer, the others smiled as well, and the air between them began to fall into silence. A silence that smelled of peace, and victory, and resignation all at the same time.

And finally, for the first time after several hours, relief settled on the group of Servants once again.

Mordred sighed, dissolving her armor in a dust of prana and sitting down on the ground with a heavy sigh. "At long fucking last. We won," she exclaimed with a weary expression, her body visibly relaxing.

"Keh! Of course, lass. Don't tell me you had doubts," Cu Chulainn smirked sarcastically with a casual shrug of the shoulders.

"Bon débarras! I, for one, am glad that's over," Marie Antoinette said in turn with a small sigh. She placed a hand on her chest, giggling a little as she watched the group of Servants dissolve their weapons and armors with faces marred with fatigue and relief. "This was by far the craziest night I've had in a long time. I didn't mind the excitement, though!"

"Indeed. But now that monster is gone, my Queen. It will no longer endanger your people and your Country," Chevalier D'Eon added with a small smile, moving to the female Rider's side and remsuming their guarding duty as always.

"You know, you should seriously learn to relax for once," Iskandar commented with a short laugh, putting a hand on the Knight of the Lily's shoulder and patting it hard; much to their chargrin.

While the others giggled and visibly relaxed, Artoria allowed herself a little smile and shared a nod with her Knights. With a slight gust of wind, Invisible Air was activated once again, enveloping her glowing sword and hiding it from the view of the world. Then, she dissolved it completely with a mental command, shifting her gaze to a certain member of the group and approaching him without any hesitation. The person in question turned away from Jeanne and blinked a few times when he saw the woman approach him with a worried expression.

"Shirou, are you ok?" Artoria asked him, her voice slightly hesitant for some reason. "You… were crying before. You seemed shaken by something. Are you alright?"

The man flinched, suddenly remembering his previous 'reaction' after seeing Excalibur with deep embarrassment and irritation. He knew it would have been almost impossible for him to hold back at the sight of that weapon after all this time, but it was inevitable. Without that Sword, Gilles and his Horror would have never been destroyed otherwise. They had no other way to annihilate that disgusting entity. Sure, to be completely honest, there would have been another option to destroy the living Horror... but it wasn't a smart one. Shirou certainly couldn't use Rhongomyniad so lightly, and not in front of everyone. After all, using the Holy Lance would draw his companions' suspicion, as well as a myriad of questions that he absolutely wanted to avoid right now. His identity had to be remain secret at all costs.

But still, he would have gladly avoided to cause suspicion and concern in his comrades.

"Oh, that… it was nothing," he said with a nervous chuckle, his cheeks turning a tiny bit red. He raised an arm, scratching the base of his neck with a clearly embarrassed face. "I'm fine, really. I was just so amazed by the sight of that weapon that I couldn't stop myself! I've never seen a sword that beautiful, truly!"

The King of Knights narrowed her eyes, her suspicion clearly visible in her emerald iris. Shirou was fully aware of this, just as he didn't fail to notice that Mordred, Iskandar and everyone else were now giving him a questioning and confused look as well. It was clear that his strange reaction had left them perplexed and full of questions. Even the sweet and innocent Jeanne seemed quite intrigued by that matter, even if she was too shy to admit it. After all, they were used to seeing him as a serious and collected person at all times (as well as the most powerful Servant among them). Therefore, seeing him react in such an unexpected and strange way had been a shock to them. It was normal that they wanted to know more.

"…Are you really saying the truth, Ruler?" Artoria asked again, narrowing her eyes further. The way she phrased her question made it clear that she didn't believe him. Not completely, at least.

Shirou swallowed nervously, inwardly flinching and cursing inside his head. However, his expression turned serious and solemn for the sake of his mission. "I am."

He didn't like lying, but he didn't have a choice in the matter. This subject was far too important to be revealed.

The others remained still and fell in absolute silence for several seconds. Seconds filled with suspicion, doubts, and inquisitiveness. Artoria stared at him directly, her face betraying just the slightest hint of disappointment and sadness for a moment, before steeling her resolve again and dropping that matter entirely. "Very well. If that's all you have to say, then I won't inquire further," she replied, her voice emotionless and devoid of her previous concern.

The Ruler clenched his fists. He had no idea why that woman was so bothered about him lying about this, but he could tell that she was disappointed with his answer. Her disappointment was clearly audible in her emotionless tone. Even Mordred and Iskandar – as well as the Knights and many of those present – were looking at him with irritated and unconvinced looks. And for some strange reason, he didn't like that. He didn't like lying to all of them and threatening the trust they had placed in him. Especially with Artoria, after their chat and their shared secret with Vivian. Seeing her hide her sadness and disappointment under that emotionless mask was something he discovered to be almost unbearable for him, even if he couldn't show it openly. He didn't like it in the least. Not when she was saddened because of him, at least.

For the first time in a long, long while… Shirou felt like a true piece of shit.

Even Castor was giving him a dirty look after that forced interaction. Good grief. Damned Berserker.

The silence lasted for several seconds. Until, after an indefinite amount of time, the others sighed softly and went back to talking to each other as if nothing had happened, avoiding that matter in a clearly evident way.

The God of War gritted his teeth, looking at Artoria's blank face. He slowly, tentatively, raised a hand and parted his lips to apologize to he-

Shirou widened his eyes.

It was then that he felt it.

Something was wrong. Wrong. WRONG.

DANGER!

"Kid!"

He reacted purely on instinct. Shirou's eyes snapped left, towards Mordred, and his body ducked in response as he yelled. He leaped in her direction, throwing himself on the girl and grabbing her without a single thought. Then, again, he threw himself to the side, holding the girl in his arms, and leaping away from there with inhuman speed. A small, black projectile careened over their heads to pierce the concrete where Mordred had been sitting a second before, fracturing it completely. The female Knight gasped and widened her eyes, shocked by the sudden situation, but she immediately realized what had just happened.

Someone had shot her. Someone had just tried to kill her. And if it hadn't been for Ruler who had saved her just in time... she would have been hit.

The others reacted immediately after that, gasping audibly and summoning their weapons once again. Shirou turned with a snarl, his eyes snapping in direction of the sudden attack. Then, the projectiles were already upon them. A hail of bullets descended at frightening speed towars them. His companions pivoted in place, and in one clean movement parried the incoming bullets with their weapons. But one of them was too slow, and was hit. Chevalier d'Eon grunted as a bullet pierced their right shoulder, piercing it completely.

Marie gasped in horror. "D'Eon!"

Artoria, the Knights and Cu Chulainn stepped in front of the wounded Servant, deflecting the second hail of bullets with their weapons as Jeanne moved to grab the wounded knight, lifting them off the ground with a panicked face. She was losing a lot of blood, pitifully trying to dab the wound with one hand. The second attack ended after a couple of seconds, doing no more damage.

Pollux turned her gaze in the direction of the attack: a large building more than a kilometer away in the interior area, beyond the port. "What was that?" she asked frantically.

"The other Servant!" Mordred realized suddenly, summoning her sword as Shirou released her to the ground. Her green eyes burned with anger and outrage. "Fuck! I thought he died in the explosion!"

D'Eon hissed in pain as he/she collapsed to the ground, losing more and more blood in an almost unnatural way. A literal pool of crimson began to form at their feet, and their strenght was mysteriously fading more and more by the second, much to Jeanne's and Marie's growing horror. Whatever the projectile that hit them was, it had done more damage than normal. It was no ordinary bullet.

Artoria pursed her lips. "What do we do?" she asked, turning her eyes to Shirou. But what she saw did not please her at all.

Utter rage had twisted Ruler's handsome features, his body shaking with rage and fury. Then, with a ruinous growl, he broke from the group and started to chase in direction of the distant enemy without saying a single word to them. The man became a blur, such was his speed, like a cheetah hounding a gazelle. His sudden dash generated a wave of wind that hit everyone present, blinding their sight momentarily. It was literally impossible to see his movement.

Artoria and Iskandar gaped and raised a hand, covering their faces to protect themselves from the gust of air. "Shirou/Boy!"

Their shocked cry didn't gave him pause. The wind whipped at them yet. When it subsided, Artoria turned to find Shirou already gone, vanished in direction of the danger, leaving no trace or warning behind.

Mordred's angry curses echoed in the air for quite some time.

---

Planet: Earth
Date: May 29 2020
Location: Notre-Dame de la Garde – Marseille (Bouches-du-Rhône - France)

(======)

Shirou moved.

Swift as the wind, strong as a typhoon, and powerful as a raging fire.

With a furious growl of anger and frustration, he darted at full speed in direction of the mysterious assailant who had attempted to kill Mordred and his companions. He ran to the railing of a balcony, jumping to the roof of a house and ignoring the inhabitants at the windows who didn't see him only thanks to the terrifying speed at which he was running. He jumped from roof to roof, abandoning the port area and running deeper and deeper into the heart of the city, chasing his target without any hesitation. With his enhanced senses, he could clearly sense the enemy start to run in the distance. He had seen that his attack had failed, and now he was running away.

As if he'd let him.

The God of War growled under his breath. He wouldn't let him escape. He wouldn't let him escape for any reason. And not just because that Servant dared to attack him and his companions without warning – he nearly killed the kid. Just that single thought was enough to fill Shirou's head with rage and fury – but also because something was wrong about this. Something was off with this Servant. The Ruler was sure, since he could detect it, he could feel it inside his mind an guts. This Servant was different. Whoever he was, he was an extremely different opponent than anyone else he had encountered until now.

The mere fact that he failed to sense his presence not once, but twice in a row (since it was evident that he was the one responsible for the previous jet attack. Shirou was willing to bet on it) was something he couldn't ignore. It was a detail that generated countless questions, doubts and perplexities to him. It could have been a simple Presence Concealment skill… but he didn't believe it. His instincts were telling him that this was not the case. And as much as he hated to admit it... his instinct was rarely, if ever, wrong. Shirou was a God. He was the God of War. Very few were the entities who could hope to conceal their presence and aura from him. And this mysterious enemy appeared to be exactly one of these exceptions. That was why he had started chasing him so suddenly, without even saying anything to the others. He had to see this enemy clearly, at any cost.

Still, now that he had detected his presence, he wouldn't lose sight of him no matter what. And for this very same reason he could clearly perceive the moment when this mysterious Servant stopped his escape all of a sudden, stopping in a certain location: the highest point of the city. Shirou narrowed his eyes, but didn't hesitate to increase his speed and head in that direction.

He went through several districts of the metropolis, and after about three minutes of uninterrupted chase, he finally reached his goal. The Servant had stopped on the rooftop of an immense cathedral built on the foundations of an ancient fort at the highest natural point in the city, an elevated limestone outcropping on the south side of the Old Port of Marseille. The great cathedral could be seen clearly from the city center, but also from the entire metropolis in general due to its gigantic size and its strategic position. And after another two minutes of chase, with a series of mighty jumps between the uphill streets and several buildings built along the limestone slopes, Shirou reaches the great cathedral and leapt onto its roof, summoning his sword and gazing at the opponent who had been waiting for him for several minutes.

Shirou narrowed his eyes at the sight of the enemy. The mysterious Servant stood still on the top of the highest tower of the church, with his back casually leaning against a wall and his arms crossed. Furthermore, his appearance was decidedly uncommon. More similar to a shadow than a human, the man wore light armor of dark color, a mixture of black and gray, along with a red hood that covered his head, hiding his face completely. However, it wasn't so much his appearance that was strange, but his presence.

Even someone as strong as Shirou had to pause when he felt it. A heavy, deadly aura hovered around the man like a fog, so dense and heavy that it could be physically perceived by any Heroic Spirit. His mere body emitted a wave of unrest and oppression that was decidedly considerable. It was a strange, alien, oppressive presence; that oozed a smell of death and tampered with whatever light and hope nearby. His presence was so impressive and heavy that it would have made any human pass out and make even the weakest Servants tremble in fear. Basically, for some strange reason, the Servant's entire body oozed "death" from every pore. And this was not a good thing.

The two opponents studied each other for several seconds, falling into a dense and heavy silence that lasted without interruption. Two amber eyes glaring against an emotionless face hidden by a dark hood. Until, incredibly, the new Servant had enough. He broke away from the wall, descending the tower in a single jump and landing on the roof in front of Shirou in a light and casual posture. The silence lasted for another two seconds.

"…Let's clean this up quickly," was all the man said, speaking with a cold, monotonous voice devoid of emotion.

Shirou narrowed his eyes. It was clear to him that this enemy was not normal at all. He couldn't let his guard down.

"Who are you?" he demanded icily.

The man did not answer.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why did you attack us? What is your goal?" he pressed further.

Still no answer.

The Ruler pursed his lips. A fierce smile splitted his features. "The silent tipe, huh. No matter. I'll make this quick, then."

Then, he charged just like his opponent had attacked him and his friends before: without a single warning.

Shirou charged out, dashing towards the enemy at full speed and aiming his katana at the neck. He moved with inhuman swiftness, far greater than that of a normal Servant, quick as lightning and silent as night itself. He was aiming to finish the fight as soon as possible and get back to his teammates' side quickly. Yet, much to his astonishment, things didn't go as he was expecting. They didn't go as he was expecting at all. It couldn't be that easy, of course.

With an equally inhumanly swift movement, the hooded Servant pulled out a long knife and parried his sword almost effortlessly, kicking him square in the chest and forcing him to back away. Then he jumped back, putting some distance between them and lifting his knife into a defensive stance, with his back slightly hunched, arms raised and legs bent.

Shirou's eyes widened, shocked by the sudden reaction. 'What!?'

The man didn't give him time to speak or think. With a sudden dash that would have rivaled even with the Ruler's speed, the man suddenly appeared in front of him as an almost invisible blur and lunged at him with a thrust amied to his chest, to his heart. Shirou reacted promptly this time and deflected the slash, using his katana to block and parry a subsequent series of thrusts and slashes in all directions, impressed and stunned by the incredible skills that the man was proving to possess. His speed and reflexes were incredible, unlike any he'd seen in other Servants. Not even Mordred – nay – not even Artoria was able to move so quickly and attack repeatedly with such speed. It was almost impossible to believe. How the hell could he be so fast? He wasn't a God, he wasn't a Divine Spirit. His aura was too dark and malevolent to be an entity related to them. But then, who-?

A sudden thrust of even faster speed caught Shirou off guard, and the enemy's knife grazed his cheek, causing a shallow cut that let out some blood. The red-haired God cursed inside his head, observing with wide eyes as the enemy leapt away from his horizontal slash, moving out of his range with inhuman speed. His attacks weren't very powerful, but he was moving his body with such a rapidity that he almost seemed to teleport - literally teleport - in less than the blink of an eye. Such a thing was extremely surprising. He hadn't faced such a fast and swift opponent in centuries.

The opponent's red hood watched him impassively. "You were saying?" the man mocked him. An even more irritating insult given his perpetually monotonous and emotionless voice.

The Ruler had had enough. Time to get serious.

What happened next happened in an instant. He gathered as much mana as he could inside his body, and with a prodigious leap of his legs Shirou charged once again, even faster than before. With frightening haste, he struck another horizontal slash aimed at the hooded Servant's head, fast enough to be invisible. The enemy, however, reacted promptly and ducked under the slash, making the attack miss completely.

But that was exactly what he was expecting.

The hooded man visibly stiffened, but despite his impressive speed and reflexes, he was unable to dodge the second attack at such a short range. Shirou kicked him with a powerful boost of prana, slamming his leg on his chest before he could attack with the knife again, with enough force to make the air hiss and his armor crack under the pressure. The Servant couldn't do anything. He was simply sent rolling on the roof of the cathedral for a few yards, without uttering a single groan or scream of pain. Then, while he was still trying to recover, Shirou moved once again and lifted him up by the collar of his red hood, fixing him with the coldest stare ever.

"Who are you?" he demanded again, pointing the sword at the man's neck.

In response, the Servant answered in a dull, hollow voice. "Impressive. As expected of the God of War."

Shirou widened his eyes. He tried to react, but he didn't have enough time.

With some crazy reflexes and a movement that was almost impossible to see, the mysterious opponent summoned a gun in his right hand without any warning. A strange pistol that resembled a Revolver from 1900 with its grip and forearm carved in walnut, making it reminiscent of a dagger in its scabbard. And then, without hesitating a single second, he slightly raised his arms and fired.

Again, thanks to his enhanced senses and his long millennia of life, practice and experience, Shirou reacted by pure instinct. He immediately let go of the Servant's collar, using his sword to deflect the enemy's hand just before he could pull the trigger. The weapon fired, no doubt, but fortunately for him he abruptly diverted its trajectory, and the bullet didn't hit him in the chest as the enemy had hoped, grazing his left side instead and wounding him a little with a light cut and a burn. The God cursed inside his head, still stunned by the previous danger and the barely avoided damage, and he couldn't help but grunt in frustration when the hooded man kicked him in the chest and used his leg to leap away from him.

The enemy landed a couple of meters away, while Shirou observed the burnt wound on his side, gritting his teeth with a frown. He had just escaped an extremely dangerous situation. If that bullet had hit him in the chest, he would have had a hard time. He doubted he would have died, but if that wasn't a normal bullet… things could have turned very bad for him. He felt it. For some strange reason, he was sure of it. Who the hell was this man?

The hooded enemy straightened up, staring at him with a hidden gaze devoid of emotion. "…So you managed to dodge it even at such close range. Your reputation is well-earned. No wonder Caster failed, even if it was to be expected."

Shirou tightened the grip on the sword, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You know who I am. Who I was," he hissed, his voice as aggressive as it could be. "Who are you?"

The man reloaded the gun, pointing it at his face with a straight back and solemn stance.

"Shirou Emiya, God Slayer and First of the Heroes."

Shirou snarled with barely contained fury. The Thompson Contender's barrel smoked.

"You are hereby ordered to abandon the conflict and return to the Other Side of the World," the man said in a voice without emotion. "So declares the Will of Humanity."

The air chilled. Realization crept on Shirou's features.

"You're not a Heroic Spirit... you're a Counter Guardian."

The man remained silent, leveling his gun at the opponent's face.

A wide, fierce snarl formed on the red-haired Ruler's lips. "Why? Why are you doing this? Why did you ally with Caster? You're going against the safety of humanity!"

"This is the Will of Humanity," the other replied evenly, detached.

"This!?" he roared, his face a mask of outrage and anger and ferocity. His arms gestured towards the chaos and panic coming from the port, his body literally shaking because of the pure anger that coursed through his veins. "All this death and destruction! All these lives destroyed like nothing! This is the Will of Humanity!? Don't make me laugh! Alaya would never allow such a thing! This cannot be the Counter Force's will!"

"The Counter Force is no more," came the man's emotionless reply, his voice hollow and frigid.

Shirou clenched his fists with so much force that his sword hilt cracked, again, for the second time in the same night. The cold, hard and terrible truth finally crept inside his mind; filling his expression with crystalline clarity and icy solemnity. Now, everything made sense. Now, everything was clear. Now, he could begin to discern the truth behind this whole mess.

The Throne of Heroes was gone. The Counter Force as well. But the Heroes and Guardians were not.

But without those two...

A voice echoed in the mind of the God of War.

Alaya is not the one who's binding the Will of the Planet, Shirou.

...

Shirou clenched his fists with immeasurable anger.

...

Someone is binding her.

"I see. Then I was right."

The Counter Guardian remained as cold and impassive as ever. The slightest twitch of his head moved his finger on the trigger, but he stood there doing nothing.

"Alaya is the one who released the Heroes and Guardians. She may have been manipulated, or acted on her own initiative. But since you're actively endangering the human race, I can safely assume that she had been forced and used by someone," the red-haired God deduced seriously, staring daggers at the Servant's hooded face with an outraged expression. "Where is she? Who's the one behind this? Whose decree are you following now?"

"This is the Will of Humanity."

The exact same answer, spoken with the exact same emotionless voice.

Shirou narrowed his eyes with a cold and solemn face.

"Then I guess I'll follow my own will and find out the truth myself."

The Counter Guardian glared at the God. The God glared at the Counter Guardian.

Shirou readied his sword, ready to intercept any bullets that were surely going to arrive. It seemed that this annoying man was able to use guns and fire his weapon at an impressive speed, so there was no point in hiding or run anywhere. He had to face him on if he wanted to reach and hit him in order to kill or knock him out. Therefore, as the two of them continued to observe and study each other's movements, he made his decision. He couldn't stay on the offensive like this, or he would tire quickly and make a mistake that could cost him dearly. He needed to focus and adapt to the situation. That was the only thing he could do if he wanted to take down a Counter Guardian.

But it would not be an easy task, nor an easy battle. Counter Guardians were different from Heroic Spirits. Extremely different. Their powers and abilities were scaled to handle whatever threat they faced. The more powerful the enemy and the threat they faced was, the more their abilities increased by intervention of the Counter Force in order to ensure their success in the missions. That was to be expected, and it also explained why that man was so fast and strong enough to keep up with him. If Alaya – or whatever entity was forcing him to act now – wanted him dead, this man could become extremely dangerous. He could really end him if he let his guard down and made a mistake.

He had to be careful.

However, before either opponents could move to attack again, something happened.

All of a sudden, without any warning, a bolt of electricity and yellow lightning soared in the sky, slamming itself on the roof of the cathedral with a snappy electric roar. Both Shirou and the Counter Guardian turned abruptly towards the newcomer, watching as a second lightning bolt of red whistled into the air, landing right next to the first one.

Shirou cursed profusely in his head when he saw that the two Twins of the Gemini had reached his position. This was bad, extremely bad. It wasn't supposed to happen. He had to make them leave for their own good! If that man decided to target them, they would be done for!

"Ruler!" Pullux exclaimed worriedly. "What's happening? The others are trying to come here as fast as– wait. Who's this?"

The unknown God gritted his teeth in worry. "Foolish kids! Get away from here, now! This man is dan-"

"You!"

Both Shirou and Pollux winced when Castor suddenly roared, staring at the hooded man who stood completely still before the fury of the blond Berserker. Castor glanced at him, then at his gun, and then snarled in a vicious, animalistic way; the electric mist around him powered by his Mad Enhancement.

"You're the one who tried to shoot us before! The one who tried to hurt my sister!" the boy raged furiously, his face becoming more and more twisted in anger by second. His discus floated in the air next to him, while his body began to tremble as if shaken by convusions. "You will pay for that!"

Like a missile fired from a rocket launcher, the mad Berserker flew towards the enemy with his weapon ready to strike and his lips parted in an enraged snarl. "YOU WILL PAY RIGHT NOW!" he roared.

Shirou gasped, raising one arm in a desperate attempt to stop that foolish idiot before it could be...

Too late.

The Counter Guardian reacted faster. He blurred all of a sudden, disappearing from the twin's trajectory while he attacked naught but empty air with a shocked, dumbfounded expression. Then, faster than any living thing in existence, he reappeared behind the blond boy, pointed the Contender forward, and leveled it to his forehead.

Shirou widened his eyes and dashed forward. "NO!"

BANG.

Castor fell to the floor, a bullet hole in his head and blood oozing profusely from it. The electric cape around him dissolved with a sudden snap.

Pollux's sheer cry of pain shook both heaven and earth. Shirou charged with a roar.

"You bastard!"

The emotionless man blurred again, avoiding Shirou's sword strike completely. He reappeared behind the crying Saber, reloading the gun as she clutched her chest with her hands, right above the heart, wailing and shaking in an excruciating pain that was both mental and physical.

Shirou dashed again, more faster than before, but this time he managed to reach the Counter Guardian in time. But still, even dispite this, it was useless. The man blurred again, teleported to his right, and kicked him with considerable speed and power. Shirou hissed in pain as he was knocked to the ground several meters away, rolling on the cathedral roof with an angry growl. As soon as his mind regained clear vision again, he snapped his head towards-

BANG.

Pollux fell to the floor, her face wet with tears and frozen in a silent scream. Another bullet hole exited her forehead, just like her brother. They evaporated in a dust of gold, disappearing completely.

Just like that, they were gone. As if they never existed. Without having had a single chance against an enemy who was powerful enough to keep up even with an ancient, retired God.

The Contender's barrel smoked again.

"...this can't be," Shirou whispered.

The man turned towards him in a slow motion, his face hidden by that red hood and his voice as cold as the blade of a sword.

"Surrender, God of War, and return to the Other Side of the World," he spoke in his frosty, emontionless, accursed tone of voice. "So declares the Will of Humanity."

...

Shirou saw red.

This man killed two of his allies. He killed them effortlessly, casually, without batting an eye; with an extremely swift effectiveness and speed, befitting of the deadliest Counter Guardian in the Throne. And since he managed to kill those two poor kids who deserved better than that with such ease… he could also hurt his true companions. He could hurt Artoria and the Knights. He could hurt Iskandar and Mordred. He could hurt them as easily as he had hurt D'Eon even when firing at as such long distance.

Even worse, he could kill them.

He couldn't allow it.

Fuck this War. Fuck the Counter Force. Fuck Gaia and Alaya and their whole fucking mess. Fuck the secrecy.

This man was a threat. He was too dangerous to be left alive. He had to die, at any cost.

And besides, this man knew who he was. He knew his past, his legend, and he could reveal his identity to others.

He had to die.

And there was no need to restrain himself anyway.

Shirou made his decision.

"...Trace On."

The air chilled. The wind stopped. The night quieted. The world stilled.

And the Magic began.

The Counter Guardian stiffened, feeling the change even without his enhanced skills and abilities. He glanced with his head in all directions, watching everywhere to try to understand what was happening, what his target was doing. Despite his powers, an icy chill rolled down his spine as he felt the sudden, unexpected burst of energy that roused to life around the red-haired Ruler. His eyes narrowed under his hood, quickly reloading his weapon to be ready to act as soon as possible.

Shirou glared at him with his enraged golden-brown eyes. With a snap of his fingers, his katana shattered into a thousand pieces and dissolved into thin air. Then, soon after, a small object appeared in his hand in its place. A small cube of blue, yellow and gray color. A certain Mystic Code asleep and lifeless, waiting to be released in full.

Add.

This was his own fault, Shirou mused. It was his fault Castor and Pollux had died. Because he hadn't been able to save them. Because he had been taken by surprise, he had been out-smarted by the enemy. And now, because of this, those children were dead. They died because of him.

He had failed to save those he wanted to protect.

Again.

Shirou raised the cube above his head, aming for the sky with his hand.

Never again.

"…Come, Holy Spear. Your master is calling."

The cube opened its eyes. Then, suddenly and with a flash of gold and white, it broke apart, taking the form of a sphere of golden energy, brighter than the sun itself and far more dazzling.

And then, the Seal broke and a voice began to speak.

Pseudo-Personality Suspended.

Mana yield exceeding regulation.

All stage restraints rescinded.

Seal Thirtheen… Decision, start.

The Counter Gurdian reacted. He wouldn't stand by and watch, obviously. As soon as he reloaded his weapon, he aimed the gun at the enemy, firing two bullets without hesitation.

In response, a black and red sword materialized in the air and suddenly launched itself forward, intercepting the bullets and defending Shirou from the projectiles. Another blade was summoned soon after the first, and it shot straight towards the hooded man, forcing him to telport away from there to stay safe.

And all the while, the God kept his eyes closed, listening as voices began to echo inside his mind.

BEDIVERE
This is a battle against an enemy mightier than oneself.
APPROVED

PALAMEDES
This is a battle one-on-one.
APPROVED

LANCELOT
This is a battle that will harm no Elemental.
APPROVED

MORDRED
This is a battle against evil.
APPROVED

GAWAIN
This is a battle that will be courageous.
APPROVED

GALAHAD
This is a battle that does not involve personal gain.
APPROVED

GAHERIS
This is a battle that does not stand against humanity.
APPROVED

GARETH
This is a battle that will not be inhuman.
APPROVED

AGRAVAIN
This is a battle for truth.
APPROVED

KAY
This is a battle to live.
APPROVED

PERCIVAL
This is a battle that will not be against one pure of heart.
APPROVED

TRISTAN
This is a battle that will be honorable.
APPROVED

The artificial voices of the Knights of the Round Table echoed inside his head, each and every one of them releasing the true power of the spear bit by bit. Ancient and distant echoes, memories of a weapon that had seen numerous adventures, contless opponents and several wielders after his separation with the original master. A weapon filled with prayer. A prayer consolidated into thirteen shapes, thirteen voices, representing those who, for better or worse, were linked to the spear and its legend. He recognized Morded, among them; and Bedivere and Gawain as well.

And as he listened in silence to the hopes and dreams that someone placed upon the Lance in ancient times, he could also recognize Artoria's voice...

ARTHUR
This is a battle to defend human order.
APPROVED

…together with the oldest prayer of them all.

His own voice.

?
This is a battle to save the world.
APPROVED

He opened his eyes, feeling the hope and dreams of prayer enclosed within the Lance fueling his body and mind, invigorating his senses. A prayer that was his, and yet at the same time wasn't. A prayer combined with many other prayers, many other hopes, many other dreams; all of them fused together over the years after he had been separated from the Divine Weapon to form one, single dream that lasted across time and space. And so, as his mind vibrated and the weapon itself sang in elation after being finally reunited with its long lost master and creator... the God of War felt every fiber of his being resonate with the fragment of his soul encased within the Mystic Code.

Until, at last, the Seal was removed completely for the first time in the entire history of mankind.

All stage restraints rescinded.

Seal Thirtheen… Decision, start.

And finally, Shirou called forth his ancient Weapon.

"Come, Sacred Spear of the Holy Tower. Shine to the Ends of the World."

With every fiber of its being, the Sacred Spear responded to his call, finally releasing its original power after more than five thousand years.

The Holy Lance Rhongomyniad returned to life with a roar of power, and joy, and elation. A literal 'pillar of light', a column of golden and dazzling energy; so bright and resplendent that it even rivaled that of the Holy Sword still in the possession of the King of Knights. A spear made entirely of golden light, swirling and spiraling, so elegant and powerful that it was dazzling to the eye and capable of making the air around the wielder vibrate and hiss completely. The mightiest and most faithful representation of the Tower that fastened together the three sides of the World itself, as well as one of his most powerful Divine Weapons ever created.

And now, after more than five thousand years of separation, they were back together.

And he could unleash its full power without restraints.

Shirou felt the attack coming even before the enemy started to act. He didn't move, but merely pointed the spear forward, right above his face and chest, blocking the incoming projectiles with a random movement, relying purely on his instinct and senses enhanced after being at last reunited with his weapon.

And yet, it wasn't over.

The hooded man blurred, and a hail of bullets slammed into Shirou's spear again.

In half seconds intervals the Counter Guardian seemed to teleport to entirely different postions. Shirou dashed forward, towards his enemy that was still firing at him from the other side of the gigantic rooftop, and lunged at the target with his long, golden spear made of light and flaming energy. The man, however, blurred and telepoted away again, and the spear struck nothing but empty space. Shirou narrowed his eyes as he turned to the right to stare at the retreating form of that annoying enemy. His form blinked in a certain location, only to suddenly disappear and teleport into another one immediately after, incessantly. It was extremely frustrating and annoying. There wouldn't be a way to fight and hit him, at this rate.

Until, the Counter Guardian jumped in the air, landing on top of the cathedral tower and staring at him from above.

"It seems I'm at disadvantage now. I wasn't expecting you to be in possession of that Spear." He scoffed, shaking his head and speaking again in that hollow, emotionless tone of voice of his. "Doesn't matter. I suppose it's best for me to retreat now. One can never be too careful."

In response, Shirou bent his legs slightly, strengthened by the spear and the fragment of his own sould hidden within it, and moved.

And when he did, he was faster than light itself.

The Counter Guardian didn't even have time to blink. All he did, all he could do, was turn around and gasp softly, but it was too late.

The red-haired Ruler had already appeared behind him, his arm pointed forward and his raging weapon aimed against the target with accurate and frightening precision. Had it not been concealed by the red hood, Shirou could have seen the man's face fill with shock and his eyes widening in surprise as he tried - and failed - to react and defend himself.

But it didn't matter. All that mattered was to kill him here and now.

Shirou glared at the Counter Guardian with a cold and solemn and enraged face. "May you never forget this Light to the ends of the world," he spoke fiercely, thrusting to spear forward with a roar.

The hooded man blurred. Shirou Emiya attacked.

"Rhongomyniad!"

And then, the world was split and light up by a gigantic pillar of golden light that broke the darkness of the night.

The golden column darted into the sky, getting bigger and faster. More spiraling and raging; illuminating the entire city of Marseille as if a new sun had suddenly risen in the middle of the night. Its beam of light shot across the city for miles and miles, as powerful as a living rocket and as fast as a shooting star, illuminating every corner of the metropolis as it passed through the sky like a comet burning in yellow fire. There was no one, literally no one, who didn't see that majestic and powerful light illuminate the city. It was literally impossible to miss, both for humans and animals alike. A show that would never be forgotten by the inhabitants of that place, but instead remembered forever with surprise and with a great sense of wonder and mystery.

Until, after what seemed like an eternity, the column of light darted towards the sky, vanishing from the sight of mere mortals and getting smaller and smaller as it flew higher and higher, leaving the world and reaching for the stars. Then, in the end, it disappeared completely in the starry sky, never to be seen again.

And silence returned to reign supreme upon the world.

Shirou collapsed on his knees, panting heavily. He used an arm to keep himself up on the rooftop of the cathedral, his body shaking in fatigue and his face sweating profusely. He could feel his Magical Energy drop considerably, leaving him almost empty and extremely fatigued after using one of the most powerful weapons ever created in such a reduced state. Numerous drops of sweat dripped from his chin and onto the rooftop under his feet while he continued to pant and gasp for air, taking deep breaths with a steady, controlled pace.

Next to him, Rhongomyniad had visibly reduced itself, its light expiring completely after being activated at full power for one, single attack. With no more Magical Energy coming from his wielder, the Holy Lance became visibly smaller, assuming the shape of a spear composed of several silvery metal filaments twisted and fused and hoined together; taking the form of a solid metal spear. An extremely different appearance compared to the 'pillar of light' from before.

Shirou swallowed, trying to recover. 'Damn it. I should have known that using the Spear at its full power would have drained me of all mana. My body is not as strong as it was back then. Most of my powers are gone now...' he inwardly hissed, reproaching himself for being so reckless.

But still, despite the pain, a small smile formed on his lips.

It had worked. He could at least admit that much. He did it. He'd managed to kill and destroy that dangerous man with a single strike. At that was all that mattered in the end. He had accomplished his mission, for today. He saved the world from another twisted Servant and a corrupted Counter Guardian. It was a smalll, but satisfing victory for a singe day. And now, now he did n't have to worry about his friends' safety anymo-

Thud.

Shirou's eyes snapped open.

He spun around as fast as he could, his legs still shaking in pain and fatigue, but despite the huge toll on his body he still managed to grab the Spear and push himself up in order to be ready and face whatever threat had appeared. His gaze moved in direction of the sudden sound, and as soon as he saw what had causing that noise, the red-head widened his eyes and gasped in disbelief.

No way. It was impossible.

The Counter Guardian's body had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, crashing on the far side of the cathedral's rooftop with a heavy thud. He was visibly wounded – he was literally missing his left arm, and a small part of his armor and hood was now completely destroyed and ruined – but he was alive. He was shedding blood from his missing limb, panting and hissing as he struggled to get back on his knees, dabbing the wound with his remaining hand. And more importantly, now that part of his hood had been ruined, Shirou could begin to glimpse a few detailes about his face and gaze.

His face was still partially covered by red bands, but under those ruined pieces of cloth a tanned skin and a pair of thin black eyes were now visible, along with a few wisps of white hair poking out from under the ruined hood.

Still, as soon as he saw the man, the ancient God stared at him with wide, incredulous eyes. How? How did he survive the attack? It wasn't possible! It made no sense! No living being, Counter Guardian or not, could ever hope to survive the full power of Rhongomyniad unleashed upon them. It was impossible! It had to be an illusion! It had to!

And yet, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that man before him was no illusion.

"Hah… that was close," the wounded enemy groaned, hissing and wincing in pain as he panted and shed blood from his missing limb. "If I had activated Chronos Rose even a second later, I would have been instantly pulverized and turned to dust." He gave him a curt, short nod of acknowledgment, sounding almost impressed as he spoke. "I still lost my arm during the teleporting process. I wasn't fast enough. I shall give you credit for that... Tyr."

Shirou narrowed his eyes, panting in fatigue along with his enemy.

The Counter Guardian glared at the red-haired Ruler, piercing him with his black, narrowed eyes devoid of life and emotion.

"Looks like you won today. But mark my words: this isn't over."

His eyes of widened. Shirou growled, trying to take a step forward to reach and finish that man once and for all, but he found his body too tired to do it. He fell to his knees again, and Rhongomyniad almost fell from his hands, given how tired and devoid of energy he was.

Then, all of a sudden, the wounded man begin to disappear in a cloud of dust, his voice utterly devoid of emotion despite the wounded and ruined state of his body.

"Rejoice, First of the Heroes, for the Planet has found a path to the future."

The Holy Lance fell helplessly to his side.

Shirou gritted his teeth in anger and frustration.

"The Age of Man has ended."

The Counter Guardian disappeared into a dust of blue and black, leaving his parting words to echo in the air as a cruel and inevitable warning.

"The Age of Nature is coming."

And then, the Ruler found himself alone on a lonely rooftop, staring at the city below with tired, exhausted eyes.

...

He had failed.

He had failed to kill the enemy.

He had failed to protect the Twins.

He had failed to save those in front of him.

And, above all, he had failed himself.

Again.

...

A sad, angry lump formed in his throat, but he forced back his urge to rage and scream with a snarl.

He wouldn't lose his cool. He couldn't let himself be overtaken by anger. He was no child, for God's sake. He wouldn't rage for something like this.

He was Shirou Emiya.

And he had failed.

...

But never again.

...

"Ruler!"

He turned his head slowly, his eyes now devoid of emotions as they watched his friends and allies appear all of a sudden in the distance, approaching him on Iskandar's chariot and Marie's crystal horse, both of them flying in the sky and reaching the roof of the cathedral at maximum speed. And as soon as they landed, his closest companions started to run frantically towards him, their concern and worry clearly visible on their face.

Shirou remained still and silent as they reached him with frantic steps. He merely watched Artoria's expression filled with fear and worry. He watched Iskandar's gaze filled shock and confusion. And he watched Mordred's face filled with worry and genuine concern.

And as soon as he saw their concern for him, he felt that strange lump begin to form again in his throat.

His fists clenched in rage and resolve.

Yes. Never again.

Artoria stepped next to him, hesitant and visibly uncertain about what to do, followed – incredibly – by Mordred. They both started to fret over him as soon as they reached him, looking both worried and stunned at the same time, checking his body and condition to make sure he was alright and even touching his face and shoulders with their hands. Even Iskandar, much to his growing surprise, approached him slowly, leaning sligtly above him and putting one hand on his red hair with a careful expression.

"Are you alright?" the three of them asked at the same time.

Shirou didn't answer. He merely nodded, dumbfounded, still shocked and confused by their obvious concern for him. When he saw them sigh in relief, his eyes moved past them, watching all the others as they started to approach him as well. Jeanne was walking next to Cu Chulainn, both of them looking tense and worried for some reason. The Knights were staring at him with an anxious frown, moving closer to him to ensure he was unharmed. And even the cheerful and bright Marie had lost her usual smile, her face now a mask of concern and confusion mixed together. She was holding by the arm a still wounded Chevalier d'Eon, helping them walk slowly with her body. The knight of the Royal Family looked better than before, but he/she still flinched a little every time the wound on their right shoulder throbbed.

He regained his focus at that sight. "You ok?" he asked with a tired voice, staring at D'Eon.

The knight nodded with a strained smile. "I'm fine, don't worry," she replied honestly. "My Queen was kind enough to heal me soon after I was hit. What's left of the wound will heal with time and rest. What about you?"

He almost sighed in relief. That was good. It meant that he/she could recover. Shirou would have immediately healed him if he had been in normal condition, but at the moment he was too exhausted and lacked the Magical Energy to be able to do it. He simply settled to give a nod of reassurance. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"W-Wait! That spear! " Gawain suddenly exclaimed, shocked beyond words at the sight of the Lance placed on the ground next to the Ruler. "Is that...?"

Everyone's eyes widened, especially Artoria's. Shirou remained silent under their shocked and inquisitive looks, his expression unreadable and his eyes filled with regret, and pain, and disappointment.

The King of Knights was the first to find her voice again. "I see," she mused in her usual low, collected tone of voice. Her emerald eyes flickered with realization, and she turned her gaze back on the red-haired Ruler, observing him with an unreadable gaze. "That pillar of light, that explosion of energy from before... it was Rhongomyniad's light. It was the power of the spear being released again. You used my weapon a few minutes ago, didn't you?"

'Just like he did back then with Lancer's spear,' she mentally added, narrowing her eyes in thought.

Shirou avoided her gaze, staring at the ground with a conflicted expression.

"How?" Bedivere asked suddenly. His voice was low, his face contracted in a frown of confusion and suspicion. "How did you manage to you use our King's spear, Ruler? It's should't be possible. Servants should not be able to use other Servants' Noble Phantasms. This makes no sense."

"Indeed. That's not how it works," Cu Chulainn agreed, narrowing his eyes slightly on the red-head.

Jeanne said nothing, staring at Shirou with wide, incredulous eyes. Even Marie and D'Eon looked both curious and intrigued by that matter, despite their battered condition. And more importantly, even Iskandar and Mordred were staring at him in silence now, regarding him with a gaze that was both inquisitive, and intrigued, and solemn at the same time. It was obvious that, despite their mutual respect, their current alliance and their recent bond, they were interested in having an answer as well. It was natural. It was simply impossible to hold back their curiosity about such a thing.

And all the while, the King of Knights, Artoria Pendragon herself, continued to glance at him and the spear still held in his hand repeatedly, back and forth, back and forth. Her eyes – her gaze – was strange as she stared at him. Extremely strange. It was a look that Shirou had already seen on her face before. It was the same look she had given him in the past, during their first meeting. During their 'secret chat' after meeting Vivian. During their every battle and discussion. That same look full of intrigue, and curiosity, and hunger for answers that she was used to give him every time she thought he was distracted. A look that demanded to know the truth about him and his identity. A look that demanded answers and truth.

Even if he had no answers and no truth to offer her.

He didn't say anything to them. He couldn't say anything. Because now, there was no longer a way to avoid their questions. There was no longer a way to avoid this topic. And also because, even worse, he still could not provide them with answers on this matter. He couldn't reveal the truth, as much as he hated having to lie and keep secrets from his own companions and allies.

Because, even if he couldn't deny of having used King Arthur's spear now... even though he had discovered that there were enemies who already knew his true identity... he still couldn't reveal the truth to his companions. He still couldn't speak about his identity, his past, and all the things he had done and caused back in the days. Such a thing would have been too reckless, too dangerous. It could have put the others in danger.

Besides, he wasn't even sure if he really wanted to reveal his identity to them. After all, his reputation wasn't exactly the best. He was certainly not a Hero remembered in a good way by human history. Not to mention, also, that Gaia had ordered him to keep a low profile. She had told him explicitly: such information would only create confusion and discord in their group.

And this was something he had to avoid at all costs. Especially now.

Fortunately for him, however, someone came to his rescue right in that moment.

"Enough. This is not the time for your useless questions," Mordred spoke all of a sudden, her voice carring both irritation and fatigue at the same time. "He just saved our lives a little while ago. Stop bothering him now that he's so exhausted. Besides, we need to retreat. We have other issues to worry about."

Shirou blinked, rasing his head to stare at her with a shocked, stupefied expression. He hadn't expected that kid to come to his aid and take his side. Not so suddenly, and not on this delicate matter, at least.

He guessed it was her own way of showing appreciation and gratitude for saving her before.

Gawain looked at her with a frown. "How can you not be curious about this, Mordred?"

The Knight of Treachery merely shrugged with a scoff. She glanced at the Holy Lance in Shirou's hand, shuddering a little at its sight. It was a weapon that always brought back bad memories to her. However, despite her obvious disgust for the spear, she remained serious and looked at the other Servants with an expression that said: are you guys stupid?

"You should have realized that he's not a normal Servant from the beginning. He's a Ruler and a Pseudo-Servant. His powers and abilities are on another level entirely," she replied coolly, putting her hands on her hips with a smug expression. "It's no wonder how he can summon and use all those different weapons without restraints, unlike us. I thought you guys would have figured it out by now. We even talked about this in England."

The others flinched a little in shame and embarrassment after her words. Iskandar openly laughed at their embarrassed faces. Shirou stared at the scene with mouth agape instead.

Mordred, effectively silencing other Servants? Out-smarting them? This was new. He hadn't expected it.

In the end, Jeanne nodded with a smile and scratched her cheek lightly. "I... agreee with sir Mordred. I mean, she's right. And it's not like he did something bad," she finally relented with a nod.

"Indeed. Besides, if Shirou's not saying anything about this, then he must have a reason for it."

Shirou turned to stare at the woman who had spoken with an astonished look.

Artoria met his eyes with a small, imperceptible smile. There was a bit of sadness in her eyes as she spoke, but also acceptance and resolve. "I trust you, Shirou. And I'm sorry for being intrusive before. It's clear that you're still hesitant to reveal more informations about yourself. But that's ok. I know you're a trustworthy warrior. If you're not willing to talk about this yet... then we'll wait for you. You have my trust, even if I'm still curious about this matter," she said sincerely, nodding in his direction with an apologetic look.

The God of War stared at her with a conflicted face. He felt something warm and strange to start blossom inside his chest.

"Artoria... I..."

"It's fine, boy. No need to say more," Iskandar cut him off with a pat on the head, making him blink in confusion. The red-head turned towards him, observing in amazement as the tall Rider grinned and winked at him. Even Mordred was holding back an amused smile. "Who cares if you can use a few other Noble Phantasms! Indeed, all the better! Everyone has their own secrets. No need to rush on this. We're a team, are we not? We're companions. Therefore, we need to trust each other. There's no need to waste time with this inconsequential matters. Not right now."

Shirou stared at them for a few seconds. Then, he blinked. Then he stared some more.

And finally, in the end, his lips curled into a small smile.

"...thank you, guys."

The others just looked at him with amusement, widening their smiles.

"But wait a second... where are the Twins?" Marie asked all of a sudden, glanicng around in confusion.

The effect was immediate. Their eyes didn't fail to notice the way Shirou's smile instantly disappeared from his lips at that question, his expression turning regretful and heavy all of a sudden. The Queen of France and all the others turned serious as well when they saw him react that way.

Artoria looked at him with careful attention. "Shirou... what happened here?"

The Ruler didn't answer right away. He remained silent for a long, long while, his expression heavy and his eyes full of conflicting emotions. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he finally picked himself up off the cold, hard stone rooftop of the building; twitching his fingers and dismissing Rhongomyniad with a mental command. The spear disappeared in a dust of prana and light, returning to its cubic shape and disappearing immediately after. And then, under everyone's solemn gaze, Shirou got to his feet and lifted his head high.

His gaze was literal steel as he stared at the moon that shone in the night sky.

"...there's something you need to know."

---

Planet: Earth
Date: May 31 2020
Location: Statue of Jeanne d'Arc – Place des Pyramides (Paris - France)

(======)

"I see... it must have been quite the adventure for a single night."

The God of War and his companions sighed when they saw Amakusa Shirou's amused smile. Even Jeanne couldn't help but giggle a little in amusement as they all walked side by side through the streets of Paris.

Shirou, Iskandar, Mordred, Artoria and the two Catholic warriors – all of them now dressed in modern clothes to blend in with the common people – were strolling in the morning sun, talking to each other about the events of the last few days and the latest clash that had recently occurred. It had been two days since the battle in Marseille was over, and now that the situation had finally calmed down the group of Servants had returned to the capital to accompany Jeanne to her new 'home' and reunite with Amakusa as well, explaining to the fake Priest what had happened in the previous hours.

Mordred let out a long, tired breath. "You have no idea, Assassin. It was a fucking mess. Dealing with Caster was a pain. I really hated that kind of shit," she said with a tired frown and a derogative tone, much to some of her companion's amusement. Amakusa merely chuckled, similarly to Iskandar who snorted with a guttural laugh.

But some others, on the other hand, didn't take her words so well.

"Mordred, you seriously need to watch your language," Artoria spoke with a tired shake of the head. It was perhaps the tenth time she had repeated that phrase to her in the last few hours. She was seriously starting to lose her patience by now.

The female Knight merely scoffed in exasperation. "I don't follow your orders anymore, Arthur. Stop bothering me."

"She's right, kid. For a Knight, you sure have quite the foul mouth. I think a little restraint would be good for you from time to time," Shirou casually commented soon after them, adjusting his sunglasses as he and his companions strolled down a street in central Paris called Rue de Rivoli. Even he seemed to be strangely annoyed by her attitude.

"Huh? Why are you agreeing with him, Ruler? You should be on my side!"

"But I am. I only wish you could act more like a decent person. I know you can be better than this. I'm saying this for your own good."

"What, so you're my new father now?"

Shirou's split-second look was sharp, but Mordred didn't miss it. "I'm not dealing with a stubborn child."

"I'm not a child! And I'm not stubborn either!" she bristled. "I just like speaking my mind! Don't you agree with me, Rider?"

"Hah! Don't count on me to help you with this, Saber. You have no one to blame for this foul reputation of yours but yourself," the tall Rider replied with a boisterous laughter, crossing his arm while the others chuckled at the girl's annoyed pout.

"Tch. Damn traitor."

"Said the one who's called the Knight of Treachery."

"...Arthur, if you don't shut your mouth right now I'm gonna fucking kill you a second time."

Shirou sighed in exasperation as Father and Son glared at each other. He was already feeling yet another migraine coming due to their antics. Damned overly-sized kids. "Enough, Mordred. One more word and I swear I won't cook for you for a whole month."

The girl physically winced at the threat, rounding on him with wide eyes and a betrayed expression. "Wha– Why the hell would you do that?" she complained.

"I told you: I want you to be better. You don't want to eat junk food for a whole month, do you?"

She rephrased. "Why do you care?"

His response was immediate.

"Because you're my friend."

That simple sentence actually managed to silence her. Mordred flinched, blushed widely, and then lowered her gaze with a pout, grumbling something about 'damned overly-powered Rulers' again. Iskandar and Amakusa openly laughed at her sulking expression, and even Artoria seemed to relax slightly... even though she casted a strange glance at her 'son' when she saw Shirou starting to ruffle her hair fondly. Something akin to jealousy seemed to flash in her green eyes for a second, but it was hard to tell.

Jeanne giggled, casting an amused glance at the Ruler. "My, my! You guys are such a close-knit group, aren't you?" she asked with mirth, her smile wide and sincere.

"Trust me, Lancer. A little more solitude would be welcomed by me," he muttered with a tired grimance.

Amakusa Shirou stepped in at that moment, returning serious all of a sudden. "What about D'Eon? How's their condition now?"

It was Artoria the one who answered. "They're fine. Marie is taking care of them and my Knights are guarding them in Versailles even now. The wound was deep and the bullet made with some kind of strange metal fused with mana. It slowed the healing process a little, but luckily for them D'Eon didn't take too much damage. They should recover in a couple of days."

The white-haired Assassin nodded with a sigh of relief. "I see… good. I'm glad, then. I just wish the Twins could have shared the same luck as D'Eon," he said in a low tone of voice, closing his eyes and muttering a silent prayer for the two Dioscuri.

The mention of that event was enough to make everyone pause. Shirou clenched his fists hard, his body suddenly more stiff than before. The memory of that Counter Guardian and their brief confrontation was enough to fill his mind with anger, remorse, and resentment in but a few seconds. Because it was his fault that Castor and Pollux were dead. It had been his fault. He hadn't been able to react in time, and those two children had paid the price of his mistake. It had been a personal failure for him.

Another addition to his long list of failures.

A hand gently touched his arm at that moment. Shirou turned his head to meet Jeanne's soft and sincere gaze.

"Don't blame yourself for what happened to Pollux and Castor," the Fair Maiden said. Her voice was low and soft, but carried a great sincerity and decision inside. "It wasn't your fault. None of us would have expected to encounter a Counter Guardian during the conflict. I heard the stories, but even I didn't know they could have been summoned in this War. There was simply no way of knowing. The twins deserved better… but sometimes bad things happen in spite of our best efforts and intentions. You told me this before, remember?"

The red-haired Ruler looked down after hearing this, nodding his head in silence. Given by his conflicted expression, it was clear that he was still unsure how to digest that event.

"She's right, Shirou," Artoria agreed soon after Jeanne. "What happened to them wasn't your fault. Caster and Pollux were young, but they were still Servants who had decided to fight in the War. They were prepared to die since the very beginning."

"I agree. No need to beat yourself over this, boy," Iskandar added as well, patting his fellow red-head on the shoulder. Even Mordred nodded to him with a solemn look.

The God of War clenched his fists, but a small smile formed on his lips. "…alright. Thank you," he said quitely, but sincerely.

Jeanne nodded, before blinking in confusion, suddenly remembering something. "Oh, I almost forgot! What about Napoleon? Where is he now?" she asked, remembering about the Fench Emperor they defeated more than a week ago, now.

This time, it was Amakusa who answered. "The Clock Tower came to take him into custody two days ago," he explained slowly to all of them. "I personally met Lord-El Melloi II and a few Mages from the Association on that occasion, and we talked for a long time. Before we parted, they told me about your situation and we agreed to keep in touch, should any other problems arise here in France. They'll send us all the help they can in case of a sudden calamity, and in turn we'll help them keep the stability of this Country in check. And as far as I understand, they took Napoleon to England with them."

"Yeah, we know. I even heard that our annoying blue Lancer was called back to the Clock Tower as well. He said something about guarding the Emperor while we keep doing the dirty job," Mordred added with a random shrug and a bored tone.

Jeanne gave them a sad smile. "So you're going to leave soon?"

Shirou nodded, along with his companions. "Yeah. We're planning to leave this evening, actually. After saying goodbye to Marie and D'Eon," he answered her honestly.

The white-haired Assassin raised a brow. "So soon? Why don't you stay bit longer? You could use more rest. After everything you've been through during these days, I'd say you deserve it. This Country was saved thanks to all of your efforts, you know."

Iskandar smiled but shook his head. "As much as we appreciate the offer, we'll have to pass. We can't stay in the same place for too long. The world is a big place, and there are many other places and people who may need our aid. We need to keep moving forward and search for more clues." Then he smirked all of a sudden, offering a wink to the Maid of Orleans and the fake Priest. "Besides, I can't conquer the world if I don't explore it all first! Am I right?" he declared, turing to Mordred and Shirou.

The blonde Saber smirked while Ruler sighed. "Same old, same old."

The six of them shared a laugh as they continued to walk around the city. In the end, they reached a public square placed in the middle of the main street, stopping right in the middle of it, in front of a large statue placed in the heart of the square: a tall, gilded bronze equestrian sculpture of Jeanne d'Arc. The six Servants shared an amused glance when they saw it.

"I must say, though: things are gonna be quite dull without you guys here," Amakusa said with a smile, crossing his arms slowly in a prig gesture.

"Yeah. We really enjoyed your company. You've been a great help for this country and people," Jeanne agreed with a nod and a wide smile full of gratitude. "I just hope things can go smoothly from now on."

Shirou smirked with an amused face. "What are you saying, Jeanne? Of course things are gonna be ok. After all, you're gonna be here to protect these people. I mean, look at you!" he exclaimed with a sly, amused grin; pointing a finger at the large bronze statue that depicted her riding a horse and with her battle flag raised towards the heavens. She looked the very definition of Hero and Justice. "So much pride. So much strenght. So much beauty! With a Saint like you to keep an eye on these people, this Country is gonna be just fine. I know it."

Jeanne blushed deeply, stuttering in embarrassment as Artoria, Amakusa and everyone else started to laugh openly. "I-I never looked this good!" she denied frantically, stammering a little while she frantically waved her hands in all directions. "I'm just a s-simple farm girl and nothing more! That's not m-me! Not at all! We don't even have the same face!"

"Huuuuh? What are you saying, Lancer?" Mordred retorted with a sly grin, pointing a finger to the statue's base. "It's definitely you, see? There's even your name on it!"

The poor girl's face couldn't get more red than this. The six friends shared one last, amused laugh together.

In the end, after a few minutes of small chats and jokes, Amakusa gave them a sad smile. "Where are you guys headed next?"

Shirou and the others shared a glance. Then they shrugged. "Who knows. Wherever Fate will take us, I guess. If there's a place that needs us, we'll be there," Shirou replied with a distant look on his face, raising his eyes to the sky.

The Maid of Orleans nodded, her smile filled with both joy and sadness. "We're going to miss you guys," she admitted slowly.

Artoria put a hand on her shoulder, smiling at her new friend. "Don't worry, we'll keep in touch. Now that you guys made contact with the Clock Tower, you can reach out to us whenever you want. You can even join us later on, if you wish. And if you ever need our help again, we'll return as fast as we can. That's a promise," she swore with a solemn nod and a determined face.

"She's right. We'll see each other again, I'm sure," Shirou said as well.

Iskandar nodded. "That's right. Just keep a low profile and your eyes open all the time. We don't know when or where that Counter Guardian guy is gonna show up again... but you must be careful. If something happens, do not hesitate to contact us as soon as you can."

Jeanne and Amakusa nodded with a decisive expression. "Alright. We'll be careful," they promised.

A few seconds passed, followed by silence. Until, after having shared a last nod with their friends, the Maid of Orleans stepped forward all of a sudden and placed herself in front of Shirou. Then she she reached out with one hand, offering it to the Ruler to shake and making him blink in confusion.

"Thank you for everything, Shirou. I'm really glad I met you and your friends," she thanked him sincerely, her smile pure and brighter than the sun. "Be careful out there. And don't let what happened last time affect you. Just keep doing what you do best, helping others, like you did with us; and I'm sure things will be fine. I'm sure of it."

The Ruler widened his eyes, parting his lips slightly.

Then, the Saint of Domrémy gave them the sweetest smile ever.

"May the Lord protect your path and watch over you guys, always."

Shirou hesitated a couple of seconds, deeply touched by her honest words and intentions. Then, a small, confident smile formed on his lips.

"Thank you, Jeanne."

He shook Jeanne's hand with a firm shake, smiling along with Amakusa and his companions.

"I will."

And she was right. All of them were right. This was not the time for dwelling on those thoughts. This was not the time to get caught up in anger and disappointment. He had failed, it was true. He had failed to protect his allies and kill his target... but he still managed to force the enemy to flee. He had still avenged the Twins' death. He'd managed to survive a fight that, as absurd as it seemed, could have costed him his own life; staying alive and thus allowing himself to live and fight for another day. And this was, by all means, no small feat.

Shirou steeled his resolve and shared one last nod with Jeanne, Amakusa, and his companions. This time, he decided, he would no longer hesitate like before. He would no longer make the same mistakes of the past.

Because that Counter Guardian was right, after all.

It was not over. Not yet.

FATE/Oppression
-Arc III-

End

---

CODEX PLANETAE

[COUNTER FORCE] Database

Taken from the notes of Alaya

Subject: Tyr [-Shirou Emiya-], #1 among the Ancestral Heroes

Alias: God of War, Humanity's Liberator, Grand Hero, God-Slayer, First Hero of Humanity

Description:

It's almost entirely impossible to talk, describe and speak in detail about Shirou's greatest creation, "Caledfwlch", even for an entity that is almost omniscient like me. After all, such a weapon is not a simple Divine Construct like many others, but rather a whole new existence in its own right, one that the Planet itself still struggles to fully understand. Not even the [COUNTER FORCE] possesses enough data and informations to be able to completely catalog, analyze and record the various facets of this weapon. However, being one of the most powerful and extraordinary creations ever recorded in the Planet's history, a moderate explanation of its existence and a few hints regarding its history are needed. Especially given the Sword's unbreakable bond with Shirou Emiya and the role it assumed during his life.

Therefore, I shall now attempt to summarize and explain as clearly as possible the complex nature and role of this weapon, in the hope that one day I'll be able to obtain more information thanks to these Notes and quell my growing obsession with the First Hero of Humanity.

The Holy Sword "Caledfwlch" - later renamed "Excalibur" by my sister's decree - is the strongest and most majestic Holy Sword that, in mankind's current mentality and history, symbolizes King Arthur. It can ultimately be called the physical actualization of her ideals and the symbol of her heroism. It was and is one of the greatest and most powerful Divine Weapons ever crafted in the Planet's history, and its power is so immense that it is said to be rivaled only by other impressive weapons such as Rhongomyniad or the sword Kusanagi. But in reality, as both my sister and I know vey well, the Holy Sword had nothing to do with King Arthur at the beginning, but was eventually associated with her figure at the behest of the Fae - extensions of the Planet's and my sister's Will - given that they were the only entities trusted by Tyr to hide and guard such a weapon. For this reason, the Sword was guarded by the Fairies for thousands of years before briefly being passed on to King Arthur by the Lady of the Lake, and later returned to the lake before her death.

The reason for this particular choice made by the God of War is to be found in the fact that Caledfwlch was not forged solely by him. The Holy Sword was created more than 5,000 years ago by the Six Great Fairies who used Shirou's very own soul to craft and forge, with Shirou's help, the greatest weapon ever. Their goal was to to use that blade in order to defeat [ERROR - DATA CORRUPTED], and for this very same reason it was designed by the Planet itself to be used even against external threats to the existential plane. Evidence of this collaboration between Shirou and the Fae for the creation of "Caledfwlch" lies in the inscriptions written in Fairy Letters engraved on both the Sword's blade and the lining of its Sheath. But since it was created from Shirou's soul, "Excalibur" is still considered a Divine Construct, the pinnacle of holy swords, and the strongest blade whose equal is the strongest Demonic Sword "Gram"; one of the ultimate God-forged weapons. It could be considered a Last Phantasm as well, forged by Shirou as the crystallization of mankind's wishes stored and tempered within his Divine Nature.

All Divine Weapons come from the soul. However, to be more precise, the Holy Sword is different. It is a pure manifestation of Shirou's soul. Unlike all the other Divine Weapons forged by him which contain only a small fragment of his soul and powers, this peculiar blade contains more than half of his Divine Nature within itself. It can be considered his other "half", literally, as it contains and it was forged with half of Shirou's soul. It is his "First half", to be exact. One of the two halves in which he divided his soul during his stay in the Fairies' kingdom in the Age of Gods. This, consequently, explains why it is perhaps Shirou's most powerful creation compared to all the others. And it also explains why this weapon is so special and fascinating for all who observe it.

As it has been explained in a previous note, Shirou Emiya - Tyr - is the first and most ancient incarnation of the concept of "War" associated with the human race. His true alignment is "fighting", and he's the one who has generated and 'created' the will and strength to fight in mankind's history. Before Tyr, the notion of "War" was detached from humanity, and with his birth, with his existence and his rebellion against the Gods, that very same concept finally blossomed in the humans' soul and mind. Essentially, as a consequence, he's the first, purest incarnation of War in mankind's history.

Therefore, it would stand to reason to affirm that his Sword is exactly the same.

Being a literal "half" of his soul and powers, "Caledfwlch" represents Shirou's desire and nature almost in their entirety. It represents his dreams of glory, of freedom, of victory; his exaltation of the concept of "fighting" itself. And, above all, it represents his promise of victory against any adversary and any adversity. It is no coincidence that from the very beginning "Excalibur" was addressed as the Sword of Promised Victory by the Fae.

Hence, in essence, the Holy Sword represents this whole aspect of Shirou: the will to fight. The strength to fight for Glory and Freedom and Justice.

For this very same reason, while there are many other weapons of different Nature crafted more splendidly and with better skill, Excalibur is an illusion far superior to them. It cannot be called beautiful because of its appearance, for the description of -beautiful- would only dirty it. It is instead sacred, because it was made from Tyr's conceptions and dreams, from a legend weaved purely out of hope. It is not a myth or inhuman work, but a -crystal trained by the heart alone-, making it reign as the strongest fantasy. It is the crystallization of the prayer named "Glory" and every other concept of "War" and "Freedom" and "Justice" etched inside Shirou's heart and inside the hearts of those who are scattered at the sword's radiance. The nostalgic, sorrowful, and hallowed dream of those who were placed on the bloody hell called "battlefield" born thanks to Shirou and his quest for Rebellion against the Gods. A weapon that represents not only the God of War and his exaltation for Battle; but all warriors past, present, and future that are fully exposed to the fear of death and despair, and who still cling to his desire: "to fight for Justice."

"Caledfwlch" was and is considered to be among the greatest crafted Weapons ever, with its speed, attack power, and reach upon being activated surpassing and remaining unrivaled by all others. In terms of competing against others in pure power, only the legendary "Ea" is known to be able to match and surpass it, and only because that sword and its origins are on another level entirely. The speed required for its activation is less than a second, and in terms of Noble Phantasm, "Excalibur" ranks as an -A++ Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm- due to its magnitude and destructive power, far surpassing almost every other Anti-Unit and Anti-Army Noble Phantasms. It is the sword with which Shirou performed the Ritual on the Rock and his own suicide before his exile in the Other Side of the World, as well as one of the weapons with which he killed countless Gods and enemies of different Nature. And almost ironically, the first opponent he eliminated with that Sword, as I have already mentioned in the past, was his own mother.

Of course, it should also be noted that being one of the two "halves" of Shirou's soul, the Sword's connection and bond with him is almost indissoluble. Consequentially, the connection between them is much stronger compared to that with other Divine Weapons. Sure, that bond was tampered after his suicide and exile, allowing the Sword to be passed down to King Arthur, but the original connection remains even to this day, and it's impossible to sever it completely, even with death. Shirou's previous attempt already proved this, after all.

Having said that, adding more details and notions about this wonderful creation would be impossible, as well as superfluous. As I already mentioned above, to fully describe and explain the nature of such a complex weapon is almost mathematically impossible. There are undoubtedly many other truths, details and mysteries yet to be discovered regarding the Holy Sword, but neither I nor the [COUNTER FORCE] have the means and time to find out more about this, unfortunately. And to be honest, as much as I insisted during our last "chat", even Ado Edem was unable to tell me anything that I didn't already know about this Divine Construct. Hence, continuing to write about this matter would be useless for the purposes of these notes.

However, after all these informations regarding Shirou's favorite weapon, it would be extremely foolish and unfair not to mention a certain Scabbard, at this point. A certain Conceptual Weapon of very… 'peculiar' nature, created and forged by the God of War together with the Holy Sword with the help of the Fae. The "Second half" of Shirou's very own soul, as well as the most complex Construct ever created in the Planet's history. A weapon that I will have to better explain in a future note after gathering more data.

The hallowed Scabbard of Excalibur, and the embodiment of Shirou's utopia: "Avalon".

---

I originally wanted to update last Sunday/Monday, but I had a lot of extra work to do at my job and I also fell sick during the weekend. So, sorry for the delay. This is the longest chapter yet, by the way. Almost 35k words. I'll never write one this long again. I'm planning to make all the next chapters shorter from now on in order to update sooner (hopefully...) However, given the length of the chapter, I may have missed some misspellings and grammatical mistakes. In case, please, forgive me. I suck at writing, especially when I'm tired from work.

I made the battle with the Gigantic Horror slightly different compared to the original, even if it ends almost in the same way. It's not like there are many ways for killing such a monster, especially if said monster is more powerful, scary and big like in this fic. Also, I tried to give a small glimpse of Gilles' more 'sane' self at the end. I hope I made a decent job. Please let me know, if you can.

And for those who wanted to see Iskandar's Noble Phantasm: don't worry. I've planned to reveal his main 'treasure' during a very specific event. We'll see it one day, definitely. Just, not so soon.

Were you expecting Shirou to be an absolute OP, with no enemy capable of keeping up with him? Yeah, think again. That was never my fic. He IS stronger than almost every Servant in existence, but I never intended to make things easy for him ever since I started to write the main concepts of the fic. It wouldn't be fun otherwise.

Next Arc will be shorter, and it's gonna be a little different compared to this. We'll meet some old faces as well as new ones. Hope you'll look forward to it. Want a little hint? Fine.

The little hint: Umu.