'Oh? The holy sword Excalibur? One of the five holy blades born from the world itself, said to even have the abilities to harm gods… this mortal can wield it?'
Ishter whispered to herself, her eyes narrowing as they fixated on Artoria, standing amidst the carnage below.
'She managed to choose who Excalibur would harm too, for a mortal that is impressive. But my patience has worn thin. I need only the boy. The death of these fools who worship me holds no importance, though it's a pity the one who read my stories falls here too… mortals are such delicate beings.'
Ishter raised a finger and pointed it directly at Artoria. "No, she must be punished. She did just kill my followers, after all."
Artoria, panting heavily, struggled to her feet, the weight of her blade nearly too much for her exhausted body to bear. Her legs trembled, but she forced herself into a fighting stance, determination fueling her aching limbs.
Pant!
