Gilles de Rais carefully picked up the flag that had fallen to the ground. It was the holy flag that he and Jeanne had once charged with on the battlefield, but now it was covered in heart-wrenching cracks.
"Jeanne, please take this. This is the flag you should hold—though, unfortunately, my broken body can no longer fight under this flag with you."
"Gilles..."
Jeanne lowered her head, looking at the man whose face was unrecognizable yet vaguely restored the courage of the Marshal of France from his younger days, her expression sorrowful.
"So, please allow me to watch over you in another way."
As Gilles de Rais spoke, his figure began to fade. He was a Servant summoned by Shakespeare, and theoretically, as long as there was enough magical energy, he wouldn't disappear. However, now, he was burning his spiritual core with his own will, injecting all his spiritual essence and will into the holy flag in Jeanne's hand.
The flag, which had endured many attacks and was on the verge of breaking, miraculously restored itself under the watchful eye of the soldier who once wielded it.
"Jeanne, you must achieve victory, just as you did in life."
The existence of Gilles de Rais had become very thin. He reverently handed the holy flag to Jeanne, and Jeanne solemnly received it. At this moment, it was as if they had traveled through time, returning to that era of war and chaos.
"Gilles, there was something I forgot to tell you when we were alive."
"Huh, what is—"
"Thank you. Meeting you made me truly happy."
Hearing these words, Gilles stared silently at Jeanne, as if in a daze—should he laugh or cry? He couldn't even make that judgment.
But this moment, this instant, even after returning to the Throne of Heroes, he would probably never forget.
"I am fulfilled (Plenus sum)!"
The once-illustrious Marshal of France, Gilles de Rais, also known as the infamous Bluebeard, closed his eyes and murmured, ending his brief journey in this world and bringing the final curtain down on this stage, which could hardly be called a comedy.
The closed world opened up, and the play depicted by one of humanity's greatest playwrights came to an end.
Clap, clap, clap!
Applause and cheers erupted from the audience.
"Oh, what a beautiful ending, so moving!"
The heroine on stage wiped her moist eyes forcefully, raised the newly restored holy flag, and pointed it at the sole audience member, the creator of the stage.
"Bring out whatever tricks you have left, Red Caster!"
"There are no more tricks. After all, I am just a writer. When the pen and script no longer work, I lose my value," Shakespeare said, shaking his head comically.
"Thank you, Saint of France. Your faith and the bonds with your comrades are so firm and dazzling, showing me the brilliant side of humanity. Also, please allow me to offer a belated apology for the inaccuracies in my writings during my life and for my recent actions—I'm sorry."
"It's alright. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been able to see Gilles again and say what I wanted to say."
Jeanne also shook her head, forgiving the great playwright who would do anything for the sake of an interesting story.
"You won't stop me anymore?"
"Of course not, of course not. You can proceed anytime. Following this path will lead you to the altar where the Greater Grail is located. Passing through my study, you can also quickly reach Her Majesty's throne room—although, wherever you go, it will be too late."
"Huh?"
"You should be able to feel it, through the privileges of the Ruler!"
Shakespeare's clownish expression finally faded, replaced by an exceedingly joyful smile—this was his true intent.
From the beginning, he never thought his Noble Phantasm could significantly affect Jeanne. His task was merely to delay her, preventing her from reaching the two most critical battlefields.
At this moment, his mission was already complete. Jeanne's list monitoring the status of all Servants showed that just now, the status of Knight King Artoria had changed from alive to dead.
Almost simultaneously, an unimaginably violent magical energy surged from the depths of the ground, like a volcanic eruption.
In an instant, the ground shook, and the entire garden trembled.
At this moment, both Servants and various magical beasts and phantasmal creatures were affected by this surge of magic, staggering and unable to stand firm.
"This... this is... such a development? How interesting, how wonderful. This Holy Grail War has given me so many surprises. I'm so glad to be part of this battle, so glad to witness such a scene."
Unlike Shakespeare's excited and frenzied dancing, Jeanne's beautiful face darkened to an expression that could drip water.
The death of Artoria marked the first casualty in this final decisive battle, and it also meant that the last piece needed to activate the Greater Grail had been gathered.
The subsequent eruption of extraordinary magical energy from the depths of the underground altar was undoubtedly an attempt to prevent the activation of the Greater Grail.
There was only one other person, besides her, who could immediately sense the death of Artoria, and that was Artoria's Master, Shinji Matou. During the previous strategy meeting, he mentioned that he needed to settle things with Amakusa Shirou Tokisada.
Because they had been overwhelmed once before, Jeanne and the others were strongly opposed, believing that they should prepare thoroughly and use their numerical advantage to launch a group attack. However, Shinji stated that he had a secret weapon for the decisive battle, and because its power was too great and indiscriminate, he had to go alone.
Shinji did not reveal what the secret weapon specifically was, but he repeatedly pleaded to let him take the lead. If he failed, then they could proceed with the group attack plan.
"I'm not a Servant. Even if I fail, my spiritual status is not enough to activate the Greater Grail. If I succeed, that would be best. If I fail, it won't have much impact."
This realistic and harsh reasoning, presented alongside the plan, became the last straw that broke the camel's back. Although Jeanne, Artoria, and the others were emotionally unwilling, personal feelings had to give way in the face of the world's survival.
And now, Jeanne finally understood the true nature of Shinji's secret weapon.
The nature of this destructive and rebellious magical energy, the explosive manner that one would never forget after seeing once—
"A secret weapon, this is your secret weapon? You never told me your secret weapon was this!!! That's why you didn't promise me you would come back alive... If that's the case, I need to be prepared."
Jeanne's gaze extended along the dark passage, her white teeth biting her pale lips, and a sword appeared in her hand.
The sword's name was St. Catherine.