Silvery stardust fell upon the Laphums spread across Uruk, bursting into a dazzling brilliance.
Under the radiant light, the Laphums melted back into black mud or reverted to human form. After giving Medea a grateful smile, they turned into particles and returned to the underworld.
Seeing this, even Ophis was slightly amazed.
It wasn't the visual spectacle that caught her attention but the purity of Medea's heart.
In this world, a higher mystery nullifies a lower one. Medea's mysteries were undoubtedly inferior to Tiamat's divine power. However, Medea's Noble Phantasm, "Pain Breaker," was the pure embodiment of the love she held as the Princess of Colchis.
Feelings are full of possibilities, aren't they?
To deny all misfortunes and pursue the purest beauty, that irrational love—it was a love that could cleanse even the evil within humanity.
Perhaps such purity is easily tainted, but at this moment, it was Medea's most beautiful moment.
It didn't even have a chance to be dyed by other colors. After blooming with the most dazzling brilliance, it scattered into the wind.
Medea gently descended back to Ophis's side, her body filled with lavender spirit particles.
Ophis looked at the dreamy princess with a complicated expression but finally nodded.
"Thank you, and well done."
Medea smiled softly, her body dissolving into spirit particles.
There is a limit to a Servant's power.
Even with Ophis's assistance, her infinite power had been damaged, and the spiritual foundation of the Servants would eventually be exhausted.
At that point, they would have no choice but to return to the Throne of Heroes.
Medea had performed a miracle beyond her abilities, close to true magic. It was inevitable that she would run out of strength.
"Miss Medea..."
Ritsuka looked downcast.
She had witnessed this countless times, but it didn't make it any easier to bear.
Before she could fully process the loss, a louder commotion arose from below.
"It's all over with Miss Medea."
Jeanne d'Arc looked back at the fading image of Medea with gratitude.
Now that the Laphums were eliminated, she no longer had to expend extra energy dealing with lesser threats.
Then, she knelt down, bathed in soft light, her expression solemn.
She had been burned as a witch, only to be canonized 500 years later, passed down as a saint. But Jeanne had never accepted that title.
To her, she was simply someone who protected her country, a path that led to countless deaths. Perhaps not a witch, but at least a sinner.
For this reason, the flames of judgment still burned within her heart.
Clang—
With a soft sound, Jeanne unsheathed her weapon for the first time.
The Crimson Holy Maiden.
As a sword, it was merely a sharper weapon. But Jeanne had used her sword from her lifetime as a catalyst, turning it into the crystallization of her own soul.
The saint held the Crimson Holy Maiden in both hands, placing it before her chest.
"I didn't get to say a proper goodbye this time..."
To the people of Chaldea whom she hadn't seen in a long time, and to the Master who she hadn't been with for long but deeply cared for.
However, there would always be another chance to meet.
What mattered now was the enemy before her.
Tiamat was drawing closer with each tremor, and Jeanne's expression grew serious.
"It's only natural for a god abandoned by humanity to seek revenge... But I'm sorry, I cannot allow humanity to be destroyed. I must stop you."
Raising the Sword of Saint Catherine high in the air, Jeanne released her Noble Phantasm.
"Lord, I dedicate myself to you—[La Pucelle]!"
The flames that cleansed sin and saved the world erupted from the sword, engulfing Jeanne in a massive pillar of fire. It slowly expanded into the sky, forming a giant cross in front of Tiamat, matching the Mother Goddess in height.
Jeanne's most powerful weapon, as the Saint of Red Lotus, she summoned the flames that once burned her alive to destroy all enemies she deemed necessary to defeat.
The price was her own life, making the power of her Noble Phantasm incalculable, an EX-level miracle.
The next moment, Tiamat and the red flames clashed.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaa—─"
The giant cross swallowed Tiamat, the flames burning intensely, and Tiamat let out a cry of pain.
Ophis watched the scene, slightly dazed.
She could see nothing particularly special about the flames, other than that they seemed to target Tiamat alone, whom Jeanne had deemed 'must be defeated.'
It was just an ordinary flame, yet it had enough power to harm the Goddess of Creation.
The world of mental images… is this also the power of emotion?
Humans are truly remarkable.
It's a pity that as a dragon, in most myths, she's the one who gets slaughtered after an explosion. Learning such a technique would be out of the question, not to mention she's a cold-blooded creature with weak emotional fluctuations.
But one or two of them sacrificed themselves for Uruk and for humanity. Is this what it means to be a hero?
Being a hero is difficult.
Come to think of it, she bears the title of Hero King…
Ophis's eyes flickered slightly.
The saint's flames held back Tiamat for half an hour before slowly fading.
"Aaaaaaaaaa—─"
Though Tiamat recovered quickly from the damage, she was delayed by half an hour!
Almost simultaneously with the flames disappearing, Altera took action.
Amid the curious gazes of the crowd, she turned the Sword of the War God upside down, pointing the hilt toward the sky.
"I originally didn't intend to use this Noble Phantasm while I was 'Attila'."
Altera murmured softly to herself.
"But… Uruk is a fine civilization."
A blood-red light shot from the end of the hilt, piercing the sky, transforming into an extremely complex three-dimensional three-colored composite magic circle right above Tiamat.
Ophis narrowed her eyes.
This intricate spell… guidance and targeting?
These strange structures were entirely beyond Ophis's knowledge. She could recognize them without asking because the spell was somewhat similar to the inscription on the Sword of the End… but more complex.
This also implied that the entity it was guiding was of a higher nature than a world-ending flood.
But the ritual's power itself wasn't strong, meaning the force it could summon wasn't as destructive as a flood.
"I treasure life,
but I will destroy that civilization!
Photon Ray!."
Then, Altera spoke the true name of her Noble Phantasm.
A silvery-white beam of light descended from the sky.
The light beam hit the magic circle, instantly expanding a hundredfold, then blasted down toward Tiamat.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa───"
The Mother Goddess of Creation let out an unprecedented wail of pain.