BOOM——!
Two immensely powerful beams collided violently between Arthur and Mordred.
"AAAAHHHHHH——!!"
Mordred roared furiously, pouring forth the crimson torrent from the scarlet blade in her grip, fueled by the unyielding resentment surging from her heart.
Empowered by three [Command Spells] and her unwavering determination, Mordred's crimson beam had begun to overpower the golden radiance opposing her.
Visibly, the scarlet beam devoured the golden flood, bit by bit. Even with five restraints released, Arthur's sword couldn't withstand Mordred's Noble Phantasm, boosted as it was by the triple [Command Spells].
Indeed, Mordred's blade—
A sword that had once rested in King Arthur's armory, symbolizing succession to the throne.
Renowned as "more dazzling than any silver," it stood equal in worth to the Sword of Promised Victory] itself.
Perhaps, if Arthur had managed to release the sixth restraint, it could overcome Mordred's blade, even under the three-fold [Command Spell] enhancement.
But such was impossible.
Arthur inwardly sighed, yet also felt a sense of quiet joy.
He sighed because he knew he wouldn't be able to stop Mordred's strike; he would have to watch his Master helplessly witness his defeat.
Yet, the joy came from seeing that Mordred, too, had a Master worthy of absolute trust—someone who granted her such indomitable resolve.
Though not the Mordred from his own world, Arthur still viewed her as his daughter. Witnessing her exhaust every fiber of her being to attain her goal brought a bittersweet pride to his heart.
Yet, at this very instant, a voice echoed from the void.
"Acknowledged—You must stand with the hero."
The sixth restraint unraveled instantaneously.
The previously suppressed golden beam executed an astonishing reversal, exploding into terrifying brilliance from Arthur's sword.
The golden flood surged violently, instantly swelling several times its former size, and thrusting back Mordred's scarlet radiance with unmatched might.
[Clarent Blood Arthur – Rebellion Against My Beautiful Father]
Rank: A+ → A++ (Triple Command Spell Enhancement)
Type: Anti-Army Noble Phantasm
Range: 1–50
Maximum Targets: 800 people
[Excalibur – Sword of Promised Victory]
Rank: EX
Type: Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm
Range: 1–99
Maximum Targets: 999 people
The strongest fantasy. A fragment of starlight.
Transcending all time and space, a dream that countless beings never managed to fulfill.
Legend has it, after the loss of the sword used to select the king, [Excalibur] was bestowed upon Arthur by the Lady of the Lake. Though constrained by the "Thirteen Restraints" named after the Knights of the Round Table, it still wielded the power to level fortresses.
Typically, an EX-ranked Phantasm defied comparison—its power unparalleled and immeasurable by conventional means.
Although an EX-rank was not universally superior in every aspect compared to A++, it clearly indicated absolute superiority in at least one facet.
And evidently, the golden sword Arthur wielded embodied sheer destructive force of the EX-rank.
The release of all six restraints propelled [Excalibur] beyond A++, reaching the realm of true EX-ranked might.
With such overwhelming power, [Excalibur] could directly oppose the [Sword of the End] itself, evaporating floods and slicing apart stars heralding destruction.
Even though a slight element of affinity played a part, it could not obscure the overwhelming fact: [Excalibur], with six restraints lifted, could effortlessly vaporize the flood summoned by the [Sword of the End].
Even empowered by three [Command Spells]—boosting [Clarent] to surpass Artoria's standard A++ rank, alongside her natural affinity bonus against Arthur—Mordred's Noble Phantasm paled before this dazzling golden brilliance.
Excalibur, even without any affinity advantage against Mordred, decisively overwhelmed her attack.
Facing imminent defeat, Mordred gazed upon that brilliance, as radiant as Arthur himself, murmuring softly:
"I lost… again?"
She offered no resistance, fully aware this battle had ended.
"You have already done enough."
Mordred felt a warm hand gently rest upon her head, accompanied by a voice filled with tenderness and pride.
Like the idealized knight from every child's dream, Arthur stood within that golden glow, gazing at Mordred with an approving smile.
Be it the King of Knights of another world or her own royal father, both were eternally noble and worthy of admiration, evoking boundless respect.
Yet this King before her now seemed to understand precisely what lay within her heart. His gaze held genuine pride in her efforts.
"Thank you—"
For the first time in her life, Mordred uttered words of gratitude.
Then—
BOOM——!
In an instant, the golden brilliance completely consumed her.
"Stand with the hero, huh…?"
Arthur glanced toward Shirou Emiya, who was fiercely engaged in battle, and drove his sword deeply into the ground.
Clang!
Behind Arthur, a storm of sparks erupted, accompanied by ceaseless, sharp echoes of clashing steel.
Shirou Emiya clashed at blinding speeds with the shadowy figure, whose strikes outpaced even the eye's ability to track.
This shadow wasn't driven by mere rage at being deceived by Shirou Emiya.
If such a trivial matter had stirred his emotions so greatly, he wouldn't bear the title of "Hassan."
No, it was simply that Shirou Emiya was yet another name inscribed upon his list of targets to eliminate.
The shadow's figure blurred into an afterimage, evading Shirou's lethal strikes again and again.
He could clearly sense that being struck by Shirou's blade—even once—would exact an extremely heavy price, if not outright end his existence.
At this moment, Shirou Emiya wielded not the reverse-blade katana he once relied on to avoid taking lives, but rather [Murasame], a blade guaranteed to deliver death in a single strike.
Just as he had against Esdeath, Shirou now fought with everything he had, desperately bridging the vast gap between their strengths.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Short daggers, Scottish dirks, ripped through the air around the shadow with terrifying speed and force, striking forth like lightning bolts.
Thrown by one such as he, the daggers held destructive power comparable to bullets. A mere human would undoubtedly die instantly from their impact.
But—
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
A barrage of metallic echoes resounded as the dirks bounced harmlessly off Shirou Emiya's armored body. The instant their battle began, Shirou had donned [Incursio].
These daggers, lethal as bullets to ordinary flesh, proved utterly powerless against Shirou's formidable armor.