Patreon Status: Completed
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No matter how many Noble Phantasms there were, without their True Names being released, how could they withstand Ryou's full-force strike?
All that could be heard was a series of chaotic crackling sounds!
More than a dozen shield-type Noble Phantasms were either sent flying by the shadows of his fists, pierced through, or simply shattered into dust.
Even Rho Aias, the seven-layered shield shaped like flower petals, each layer's defense equivalent to that of ancient city walls, was penetrated by his strikes.
Then, as Gilgamesh's face shifted between shock and rage, and under the astonished stares of the onlookers...
A fist slammed directly into Gilgamesh's face!
At that moment, time seemed to freeze.
The once-handsome face, which had captivated countless women, was now distorted and deformed under the tremendous impact.
In the next instant, Gilgamesh's body was sent flying backward by the powerful blow, spinning uncontrollably in mid-air.
With a loud thud, the once-arrogant King of Heroes crashed heavily to the ground.
Ting! Ting! Ting!
Several of the King's pristine white teeth fell to the ground with him.
The teeth were not only stained with blood but also showed clear signs of breakage.
For a moment, the battlefield fell into complete silence.
One by one, shocked, even fearful, eyes turned toward RYou's figure. Though he wasn't particularly tall, his presence seemed overwhelmingly grand.
Just moments ago, when Gilgamesh had drawn Ea, its sheer power was so terrifying that apart from Lancer, who possessed the Holy Lance, no other Servant could guarantee they'd survive such an attack head-on.
And yet, in the blink of an eye, the once-invincible King of Heroes had been knocked to the ground.
The nobody in everyone's eyes had become the final victor.
They had truly witnessed the unimaginable.
Only Lancer, mounted on her horse nearby, remained calm. Aside from using her holy lance to deflect any stray weapons that came her way, she showed no other reaction, as if she had always been certain that Ryou would emerge victorious.
Gilgamesh, now regaining consciousness, glared at Ryou with his bloodshot crimson eyes, his fury and murderous intent almost palpable. His once-handsome face was now twisted into an abstract portrait of blood, bruises, and swelling.
Without saying a word, Ryou raised his fist again, aiming straight for Gilgamesh's head.
Unfortunately, he was just a moment too late.
Just as his fist was about to make contact, mere millimeters from Gilgamesh's head, the King of Heroes was engulfed in the light of a Command Seal. He disintegrated into golden particles, vanishing into the air.
Only half of a voice, slightly slurred from missing teeth, echoed through the air:
"Damn it! You accursed mongrel, I will…"
Ryou slowly stood up, raised both fists and smashed them together with a resounding metallic clang.
He didn't say a word, but his posture was clear: Who's next?
There was no one willing to step forward.
At this moment, Ryou, having just defeated such a powerful adversary, exuded a dominant aura. Even the most stubborn among them knew it was wise to avoid him for now.
Furthermore, even if someone did manage to defeat him, they would only be paving the way for someone else's victory.
It would be sheer stupidity to challenge him now without absolute certainty of success.
Though no one approached him, someone did confront Lancer.
A small figure, clad in a blue dress and covered in silver-white heavy armor, landed like a cannonball in front of the female knight. Holding a sword wrapped in wind, the figure pointed its tip directly at the mounted knight.
"I am Artoria Pendragon, the rightful King of Britain, the Knight King, Arthur. You, hiding your true face behind a helmet—who exactly are you?"
Ryou's gaze flickered as the original Saber suddenly appeared, but he stepped aside.
It wasn't that he was being inconsiderate, but this was a matter between the two of them, and no outsider had the right to interfere.
The conflict between oneself and oneself was something no one else could meddle in.
A cold snort came from beneath the helmet, and Lancer placed both hands on the lower edge of her helmet. With a click, the imposing full-face metal helmet was removed.
A face strikingly similar to Saber's, yet more mature and refined, was revealed.
Staring at the face that seemed to be carved from the same mold as her own, Saber's pupils dilated, and she fell into a state of utter confusion.
At that moment, Lancer spoke.
"I wondered which bold fool it was, but it turns out to be the failure from a parallel world."
Sitting upright on her horse, Lancer looked down at the parallel world's version of herself. Her expression conveyed one message:
You are the weakest Artoria I've ever seen. Go home.
"You!"
Saber snapped out of her shock, her holy blue eyes blazing with fury as she stared at the face so similar to her own atop the white horse.
The Hollow Hill of the Swords, the collapse of her kingdom—that was Saber's eternal pain and her greatest sore spot.
But Lancer no longer looked at her and instead turned her gaze toward Ryou, her expression unreadable.
"Until we meet again, my…"
For the first time, a faint smile appeared on Lancer's goddess-like, cold face.
But before he could decipher the meaning behind her half-finished sentence...
Lancer pulled on her reins, and her steed, as if understanding, extended a pair of translucent, rainbow-hued wings from its sides and began to gallop into the sky, carrying the female knight aloft.
As she passed over the rooftops, Lancer reached down and grabbed a man with slicked-back hair, dressed in a rigid, monk-like outfit, lifting him into the air with one hand. She completely ignored Kirei's angry protests and resistance as she flew off without looking back.
Saber, having been completely ignored by her other self, trembled all over, and eventually, her arm, which was holding the holy sword, fell weakly to her side.
Just by looking at the two holy swords, the sheath, the holy lance, and the divine horse, Saber knew that the other Artoria had been far more successful than she had.
Heroic Spirits are born from people's faith. If Lancer's fame and reputation hadn't far surpassed her own, how could she have overcome the constraints of her Servant class and possessed so many Noble Phantasms?
In Lancer's world, the image of King Arthur in people's hearts must be just like her.
Gazing at the disheartened Saber, Ryou's eyes flickered. Even for the same person, different choices lead to different outcomes. Therefore, once a choice is made, one must bear the consequences of that choice.
Saber had lost all will to fight, and with Emiya Kiritsugu being as cunning as ever, he wouldn't dare to engage in battle against him now, having witnessed his power, without absolute certainty of victory.
Similarly, Medb and Waver also chose to retreat.
In an instant, the siege had turned into a farce, with all the participants leaving the stage one by one.
Jalter, who had been hiding in the shadows, eagerly awaiting Ryou's downfall, was so furious that she smashed the crystal ball she had been using to monitor the battlefield into pieces.
She even had the dangerous thought of using her Command Seals to forcibly order all the Servants to attack Ryou.
This reckless idea was quickly stopped by Gilles de Rais.
If Jalter did that...
Her role as Ruler would be over.
All the remaining participants would unite against her, the Ruler who held the Command Seals that could command all Servants and used them recklessly.
Sensing that there were no more traces of other Servants nearby, Ryou finally allowed himself a sigh of relief.
Although he appeared calm and composed on the outside, only he knew how tense he had truly been inside.
Just moments ago, it felt like he was dancing on the edge of a knife—one misstep, and he would have plunged into the abyss, surrounded and attacked by multiple Servants.
But now, it seemed his gamble had paid off.
"Medea-chan, come over. It's over now."
"Understood, Master!"
Medea's slightly cheerful voice came through their mental connection.
Ryou smiled knowingly.
Only he and Medea could truly understand how dangerous the situation had just been.
But just as he began to lower his guard, a sudden surge of danger jolted him.
Almost instinctively, he pushed off with one foot, rolling to the side.
The moment he left his original spot, countless slender black ice spikes erupted from the ground, stabbing outward in all directions like spears.
From a distance, it looked as though a large cluster of blackthorns had suddenly sprouted from the ground.
Had he been even a fraction of a second slower, he would have been skewered by the spikes.
At that exact moment, a scream rang out from above.
Medea's figure plummeted from the sky like a bird with broken wings.
Ryou didn't have time to think. In a flash, he dashed forward and caught the falling her in his arms.
His gaze instantly sharpened. Medea's face was pale, her clothes stained with blood, and a black arrow was embedded in her shoulder.
Ryou quickly gave her a healing potion.
However, his expression darkened.
The black arrow seemed to be cursed with some kind of malicious magic.
The usually effective healing potion had no effect; the wound showed no signs of healing and merely stopped bleeding.
The best course of action would be to remove the arrow, purify the curse attached to the wound, and then begin healing.
But with powerful enemies lurking nearby, Ryou didn't have the time for that.
All he could do was use more healing potions to help Medea hold on a little longer.
After administering emergency treatment to her, Ryou stood up, his expression icy cold, and shouted:
"Come out!"
A soft laugh echoed, and a figure Ryou never expected stepped out from the shadows.
A ghostly mask, a noblewoman's attire in the style of the Meiji Restoration, and a mechanical bow still emitting white steam.
Without a doubt, the tall, voluptuous girl before him was the one who had ambushed Medea.
But what truly shocked him was the figure behind her, faintly visible like a ghost.
"Sakura... you're not dead!?"
Ryou's voice was heavy as he spoke her name.
"Good day, Lord Kenshou, or should I call you by your otherworldly name, Lord Ryou?"
Her incomparably beautiful face bore a wicked smile.
Ryou paid no mind to her words. His mind raced—Sakura being alive was a disturbing mystery.
The system had clearly stated that she was dead. He had never seen the system make an error before, so why was there a problem now, specifically with Sakura?
Noticing her ghost-like state, a flash of understanding came to him.
He immediately scoffed.
"So that's it. You're just a pitiful soul without a body. Surviving like this must be quite the experience, huh?"
Sakura's face stiffened. Having her body destroyed was her eternal pain and an indelible humiliation.
Her unnatural expression didn't escape his notice, and he understood at once.
Sakura had indeed died, but she must have used some secret technique to survive in this half-dead, half-alive state.
Without a body, wasn't that worse than death?
The only thing likely keeping her going was her desire for revenge against him.
Given her twisted nature, the true identity of the masked girl in front of him was probably…
Ryou's expression grew heavy as he looked toward her.
As if sensing his thoughts, the girl also looked toward him, then raised her pale, jade-like hand and gently lifted the bottom of her mask.
A delicate, charming face was revealed beneath the mask. Her ash-gray eyes were clear and moist as if they could speak. A small, exquisite nose and cherry-blossom-colored lips made her look like a perfect, lifelike Japanese doll.
Staring at that familiar yet strange face, Ryou fell silent.
"Long time no see, Father."
The girl smiled slightly, raised the hem of her dress, and curtsied gracefully as if she were a princess from a medieval European court.
"Long time no see, Ayame..."
Ryou gazed with a complex expression at his now fully grown daughter.
Although many years had passed (in the Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress world), he still felt a pang of guilt toward Ayame.
His arrival in that world had caused a series of upheavals, completely altering Ayame's fate.
According to her original destiny, she would have faced some hardships and challenges but ultimately found trusted companions and mutual love, with everyone working together to overcome difficulties, leading to a happy ending.
But once Ryou crossed into that world, everything changed.
For the sake of his grand ambition to unify the world, all he could offer Ayame was material comfort. When it came to family affection, even Jeanne had given her more than he had.
When the time came to face off against Sakura, Ryou had even chosen to abandon Ayame.
In a sense, he was also responsible for killing her father.
Ryou suddenly realized—wasn't this the typical plot of a heroine turning to darkness and seeking revenge against her father?
Ayame being manipulated by Sakura seemed inevitable.
After all, all of this was the result of seeds Ryou himself had sown.
Wait a minute… does this mean I'm being blamed again?
Ryou snapped out of his thoughts.
At that moment, Sakura's somber mood lifted, and she burst into laughter.
She had calculated everything, yet she had encountered someone like him, who couldn't be predicted.
In the end, she had been utterly defeated, even losing her body. Now, she was barely clinging to life, relying on a backup plan to survive in this half-alive, half-dead state.
Worse than death, her hatred for Ryou had reached the heavens.
However, Sakura's will was as strong as iron. Driven by this hatred, she had been manipulating Ayame all along, leading to the current situation.
Seeing Ryou's conflicted expression, Sakura felt immense satisfaction.
"Hahaha! So even if you have days like this! How do you like the gift I've given you? But don't be too anxious. The present I've prepared for you is far from over!"
With a smile, Sakura glanced toward another shadowy figure nearby.