"Gawain, you idiot!!"
For the second time, Mordred was caught in the crossfire of Gawain's sunfire, and her already fiery temper exploded. She spun around and yelled, "What the hell are you doing!?"
Though she cursed, Mordred did not let up her assault on the Lionheart King.
Across from her, the three Knights of the Round Table fought in unison, forcing the Lionheart King into a corner. He was no longer the formidable warrior who could single-handedly take on three knights.
Within mere seconds, his wounds multiplied, his movements slowed, and his body began to falter.
The shattered remains of his broken sword, cleaved by Mordred's relentless strikes, left him unarmed and vulnerable.
Yet, the loss of a mere weapon was no absolute disadvantage to the Lionheart King.
To everyone's shock, the hilt of the broken sword began to transform. A radiant, dazzling light burst forth once more—
The Lionheart King had unleashed Excalibur!
"Not a chance!!"
Mordred wouldn't allow him to activate his Noble Phantasm again. Even if it lacked the power of its former might, she refused to see the holy light of the sword shine in the Lionheart King's hands.
Crackle—!
A crimson streak of lightning tore through the air, slamming into the Lionheart King!
Now that the Lionheart King was weakened by the Knights of the Round Table, Alaric could finally join this battle of apex Servants!
Driven by the thunder flash, his body surged with terrifying, unprecedented speed, rivaling even the legendary agility of Lancelot. At that moment, Alaric realized the extent of his transformation.
"You—!"
It was the closest Alaric had ever been to the Lionheart King. So close that their breaths seemed to intertwine.
Floating white hair separated them, while the Lionheart King's eyes reflected only the cold vertical pupils of his opponent.
Alaric grasped the arm wielding the sword. Under the Lionheart King's stunned gaze, he drove his elbow forward—
BANG!!
A muffled sound erupted in front of Mordred. The sudden shockwave scattered even Gawain's blazing Sunfire!
The blinding light that had irritated Mordred came to an abrupt halt.
Taking the opportunity, Alaric struck the broken sword from the Lionheart King's grasp, halting his Noble Phantasm's release!
With that devastating elbow, the Lionheart King was sent flying, blood spraying across the sky.
Seizing the opening Alaric created, Mordred didn't hesitate.
Nor did Gawain or Tristan—both pressed forward to claim the Lionheart King's head.
"Hah, trying to escape?"
Hot on his heels, Mordred closed the distance like a shadow, her King's Sword poised to strike. With the Lionheart King unarmed, she swung her blade down—
Slash—!
Blood spattered in an arc as an arm was severed and flung high into the air.
"Hahaha!!"
Mordred burst into unrestrained laughter, reveling in the sight of the Lionheart King's severed limb. With a sharp spin, she delivered a kick that sent him flying nearly 100 meters!
Before he could recover, Tristan unleashed a torrent of slicing attacks, cutting through the air like a deadly web aimed at the Lionheart King.
If he failed to evade or defend, the Lionheart King would be diced into pieces, dead on the spot!
Snap—!
An astonishing sight unfolded.
The Lionheart King caught the severed arm that Mordred had lopped off. As soon as it touched his hand, it transformed into a sword—a holy blade Mordred knew all too well.
"This is ridiculous…"
Mordred's eyes widened. Even armless, the Lionheart King could create a holy sword to fight with.
With the blade in hand, the familiar radiance shone again.
Though it lacked the power to harm Mordred and the others, it was enough to obliterate the deadly strikes heading his way.
"Excalibur," the Lionheart King calmly invoked the name of his Noble Phantasm.
BOOM!!
A brilliant torrent of light erupted once more, sweeping across the battlefield and engulfing Mordred and her companions!
Already battered by the Lionheart King's power, Alaric's deadly strikes, and the combined Noble Phantasms, the battlefield entered its final scene.
Step.
Step.
"Reach the edge of the world and go beyond its limit. O distant king, witness this light."
A flowing chant, almost like a gentle stream, passed unnoticed by anyone.
When the silhouette of the Knight of the Lake appeared beside the Lionheart King, their eyes met.
Had it been the Lionheart King of earlier, he might have reacted. But after losing his source of mana to Alaric and suffering grievous wounds in battle against Gawain and Mordred, he was a shadow of his former self.
"Arondight Overload!"
It was the ultimate blade wielded by a master of swordsmanship—
The edge tore through skin, muscle, and bone, releasing a teal radiance from the wound, shining like a summer lake.
Slash!
Blood sprayed violently.
The Lionheart King said nothing as his body slowly collapsed. Though his upper body fell, his lower body remained as unyielding as a mountain, standing upright. (Like Gojo)
Drip.
Drip.
Scarlet liquid pooled around him like a blooming flower of the other shore—hauntingly beautiful.
His golden hair, disheveled and soaked with blood, didn't seem to faze him. The Lionheart King simply gazed at the blazing sun in the sky and spoke slowly:
"Knights of the False King, your victory is assured. Go on, pledge your foolish loyalty to the pretender who seized the Holy Land.
This world is doomed. What can your king possibly accomplish?"
Despite the blood pouring from his mouth, the Lionheart King's words carried no urgency.
"Blabbering again? Lancelot, that wasn't fair, stealing my prey!"
Covered in blood, Mordred ignored his final words and turned to complain at Lancelot.
"Self-proclaimed Lionheart King, do you have any last words?"
Neither Mordred nor the others seemed interested in his dying speech. They simply stared coldly, waiting for the Lionheart King to fade.
"The unknown king falls. How sorrowful," murmured Tristan, plucking his bowstring to release a mournful melody.
"Are you really the Lionheart King?"
Unlike the others, Alaric's curiosity burned brightest. Ever since encountering the Crusaders in Ozymandias's domain, their clashes with the Holy Grail have been pivotal.
The Lionheart King gave a faint smile at the question.
"Does it matter, nameless one? Why does a Crusader like you serve a false king?
You abandoned our cause, destroyed it. What do you make of the sacrifices of countless comrades?"
'???'
Alaric stared, puzzled. Why must the Lionheart King remain cryptic even in death?