The clash of fists between Spartacus and the giant was relentless, a brutal dance of destruction and regeneration. Each time the giant's earthen fists shattered, more soil poured from its cracks, reforming its hands. Spartacus, in turn, fought back with raw determination—his flesh torn and mangled with each impact, yet instantly stitched together by sprouting tendrils of sinew and muscle.
As time dragged on, the giant's form grew even larger, towering ominously over the battlefield. Simultaneously, Spartacus's body swelled with accumulated magical energy, his attacks becoming increasingly ferocious. But this battle could not last indefinitely. Spartacus's capacity to store magic was finite, while the giant seemed to draw limitless power from the earth, slowly turning the world into its twisted paradise.
"This fight isn't going to last! Spartacus won't hold out much longer!" Jeanne called out, her voice filled with urgency as she raised her flag high.
"No," Cyd responded, his gaze hard as he watched Spartacus's seemingly futile efforts. "This is exactly what Spartacus intended."
The giant had grown so massive that it was nearly impossible to separate its feet from the ground. Cyd knew that even he couldn't lift the colossus into the air. But what if there was a being nearly as large as the giant itself? Spartacus was a madman, yes, but even in his madness, he remained a hero—a hero capable of overturning impossible odds.
With a grim smile, Spartacus wrapped his arms around the giant's waist, his muscles bulging with inhuman strength. The ground beneath them trembled violently as deep fissures spread in all directions. Slowly, the giant's feet, once firmly rooted to the earth, began to lift.
"Not on my watch!" Semiramis snarled, flicking her fingers as twelve immense magic cannons locked onto Spartacus.
Even from her airborne throne, she could sense the dangerous amount of magical energy building within Spartacus, teetering on the edge of an explosion. If those blasts hit, Spartacus would detonate like a bomb.
"Damn you, woman! That's beyond cruel!" Achilles roared in fury, glaring up at Semiramis's airborne fortress.
"Spare me your insolence!" Semiramis sneered, her voice cold. "Interfere, and I'll obliterate you along with him."
As the terrifying surge of magical energy descended upon Spartacus, Cyd's eyes narrowed. In an instant, he darted up Spartacus's body, using his superhuman speed to leap onto Achilles's chariot.
"This is Spartacus's final stand. I won't let anyone interrupt him!" Cyd declared, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Launching himself from Achilles's chariot, Cyd collided with the torrent of magical power. The instant it made contact with him, the deadly energy scattered and refracted in all directions.
"Incredible…" Achilles murmured in awe.
"Now, Spartacus! Do it!" Cyd shouted
With a roar, the giant raised a massive fist, aiming to crush Spartacus's skull. But Achilles, whipping the reins, drove his chariot like a streak of lightning through the giant's arm, severing it in a blinding flash of speed. Even so, the other fist slammed down onto Spartacus's shoulder.
"Now's the time!" Spartacus bellowed, his voice filled with manic triumph.
The ground shook as the colossal Spartacus, now nearly a hundred meters tall, heaved the giant from the earth. Glowing fissures spread across Spartacus's body, light spilling from them like cracks in a dam.
"My comrades, I will carve a path to freedom!" Spartacus roared, spinning with all his might and hurling the giant toward Semiramis's floating palace. As he did, the cracks on his body erupted in blinding light, the sheer force of his attack illuminating the battlefield like a second sun.
All the pain, the unyielding resolve, the willingness to sacrifice everything—this was the true power of Spartacus, the hero who defied tyranny even in death.
In the sky, the giant began to disintegrate, its immense form unable to sustain itself away from the earth. It was, after all, just a massive construct—a mere puppet in the hands of its creator. But Spartacus's Noble Phantasm had not yet run its course.
"Damn you, how dare you!" Semiramis's face twisted with fury. She never expected Spartacus to target her aerial sanctuary. As the searing light threatened to engulf her entire palace, she knew she had no choice. In a desperate maneuver, she pulled the palace back, barely avoiding the full brunt of Spartacus's assault. But the damage was done—ten of her twelve magic cannons were destroyed, and the once-magnificent garden bore deep, ugly scars.
"It's time to retreat, Assassin," Shirou Kotomine's voice echoed in her mind, calm but firm.
"Tch," Semiramis clicked her tongue in frustration. She reluctantly guided the palace away from the battlefield. Shirou's voice had brought her back to her senses—though they had suffered losses, the Greater Grail was still in their possession. It was a setback, but the war was far from over.
"They're retreating!" Astolfo's excited voice broke through the tension as he pointed toward the distant palace.
Semiramis's eye twitched in annoyance, a vein bulging on her forehead. A tactical withdrawal, that's all this is! If you have the guts, come and chase us down!
"It's too late," Darnic muttered, staring blankly at the receding fortress.
"Hey! Don't give up so easily!" Astolfo snapped, slapping Darnic's face with enough force to make him stumble. "Don't you have a wish you want to fulfill?"
The blow jolted Darnic back to reality, the stinging pain a harsh reminder that the battle wasn't over yet.
"It's not over until the very end!" Vlad III declared, descending from the sky. His regal presence sent a shiver down Darnic's spine. "I saw that light, that resolve. Spartacus's determination was awe-inspiring. Now, it's time for me to show my own."
Vlad turned to face the retreating palace, his eyes burning with intensity.
"Darnic, use a Command Spell. Order me to stop that palace!"
Darnic hesitated, but then his resolve hardened. He raised his hand, the Command Spell glowing with power. "By the Command Spell, I order you, Lancer—stop that aerial palace with all your might!"
Vlad III's magical energy surged, iron stakes scattered across the battlefield rising up and flying towards him. With a determined breath, he drove his spear into the ground. "You will not escape! I command you—remain here!"
A torrent of iron stakes erupted from the earth, shooting toward the floating palace.
"Foolishness," Semiramis scoffed, crossing her legs arrogantly. "You think mere iron stakes can bring down my palace?"
But as the stakes connected, they formed a massive iron pillar that slammed into the underside of her sanctuary, anchoring it to the ground.
"Got you," Vlad III murmured, clenching his fist.
In that instant, the iron stakes spread like roots, entangling the entire palace. Semiramis's expression turned cold as she realized the truth—her palace was immobilized. Vlad III's stakes had rooted themselves deep into her territory.
She was trapped.
Exhausted, Vlad III fell to one knee, his strength drained. He had used every last stake, giving hope to his allies while striking fear into the hearts of his enemies.