Chapter 158 The Holy Lance Shines
The lords and knights, observing the soldiers' reactions, were not only surprised but also looked on with disdain.
"Those weak troops… what use is there in numbers, aside from carrying supplies or running errands?"
"If that person named Shirou were willing to cook for me for a year, even if I gave him all these soldiers, it wouldn't matter."
"Drink! Drink!" "Cheers~!"
The knights clinked their mugs of ale, laughing and continuing to feast heartily.
The previously blazing fires and cooking equipment had been extinguished, and the last traces of smoke drifted away with the wind.
The knights at the banquet drank their ale and ate until their bellies were fully bloated, then found a place to lie down and snore.
From afternoon to night, time seemed to pass in an instant. The well-fed soldiers found comfortable spots to rest and recuperate.
They all knew this would be the final battle—the one that would decide the fate of everyone. Either they would defeat the demon dragon and rescue their comrades, who had been trapped in an endless cycle of slaughter under the black mud's control, or they themselves would be slain by the dragon, falling into the same inferno.
Oddly, the soldiers showed little fear. They lay on the grass chatting casually, as if on a leisurely hike.
When they looked toward the young boy standing on a high slope, gazing at the distant battlefield, their eyes reflected admiration and longing.
Yes, it wasn't that they weren't scared or tense—they just felt that if they were with someone like him, it might be alright.
After all, they were summoned to this world as the lowest-tier soldiers, subordinates to these knights, heroes who were otherwise unreachable. In their past lives, only a few who had earned merit might gain recognition and become a lord's attendant, servant, or guard. The rest, if they survived the war, would return to tend livestock or farm; even in victory, they might only get enough rations for their families for a few weeks, while the majority perished on the battlefield.
They were destined, willingly or not, to fight alongside their lords. And now, reborn as soldiers in this world, battle was unavoidable.
But this time, if their loyalty was placed not on a high and distant lord, but on a young boy who truly regarded them as people… having shared a meal with him, the soldiers felt that selling their lives and fighting alongside him would not be in vain.
Shirou and Artoria stood side by side on the slope, looking toward the center of the battlefield. Night cloaked the landscape, darker than the farthest horizons, save for the stars that still shone brilliantly.
Shirou's clairvoyance extended over the peaks, spotting the demon dragon lurking on the ground. Its body had shrunk considerably, its energy flowing into the earth, leaving it weakened.
"Shirou, are you ready? You seem deep in thought," Artoria asked, leaning on her sword beside him.
"Yeah. I just want to stop the dragon from destroying another world, but the people here all have their reasons—freeing comrades, avenging against the dragon, or protecting their own world," Shirou replied.
"Different reasons don't matter. As long as everyone shares the same goal, we can fight together," Artoria said confidently.
"Ah, then Artoria, lead us to victory!" Shirou declared.
Night deepened. By midnight, the army assembled and advanced toward the battlefield. The giant dragon, now over ten meters long, was attempting to dig a hole to bury itself in the ground.
"Now! Charge!!" Artoria drew the holy sword and led the front line.
"Whoa-oh-oh!" the knights of Britain shouted, following her into battle. "Ora ora ora~!" the barbarians also surged toward the dragon.
To protect the knights ahead, archers and spearmen in the rear aimed at the dragon's neck and head, shooting arrows and thrusting spears.
Ordinary weapons barely caused damage, only striking in gaps between scales.
"Roar~!" The dragon, pierced by some arrows and spears, felt pain. Its crimson eyes blazed with fury as it roared. The black mud on its body wriggled, pushing away the weapons, and black flames gathered between its vicious fangs.
The plan was for the strong servants, like Artoria, to restrain the dragon when it unleashed powerful attacks.
"Haah! -Excalibur Morgan!!!" Artoria's holy sword shone with black light, striking at the dragon.
The dragon's breath and the black column of light from the sword collided, canceling each other.
Because of the sword's inverted properties, absorbing its light offered little advantage. Though Artoria lacked the Holy Grail and high-level support, she still had reliable allies.
"Shirou!" Artoria called.
"Yes!
I am the bone of my sword.
Steel is my body and fire is my blood.
I have created over a thousand blades,
Unknown to Death, Nor known to Life.
Have withstood pain to create many weapons.
Yet, those hands will never hold anything.
So as I pray—Unlimited Blade Works!—!!"
Shirou activated his reality marble, drawing the dragon into his world. The red wasteland and steel ground were littered with noble phantasms, as far as the eye could see.
"This place… incredible! The boy!" Lamorak exclaimed in astonishment.
"Sir Lamorak, stop dawdling! Lead the charge!" Artoria commanded.
"Yes, my king!" Lamorak's spirit surged. The strongest and bravest knight of the Round Table, he excelled in frontal charges.
Roar!!!
The dragon, Vortigern, realized it had been dragged into a strange alternate space, losing its connection to the land. Enraged, it swung its massive claw at the nearby ants—soldiers.
"Hah!!!" Lamorak gripped his oversized spear with both hands, charging at the dragon's claw.
Boom!!!
The heavy impact resonated. His gleaming spear smashed the dragon's claw, shattering much of its scales. Black mud wriggled to cover the wounds, but its repair was now much slower.
"Good! In this reality marble, the dragon can't revive easily! Charge! Now, shred Vortigern!" Pellinore shouted, riding forward with his knights, spear in hand.
"Soldiers! Pick up weapons and charge!" Shirou commanded.
"Yes! Hyaaaa!!!" Soldiers grabbed nearby noble phantasms and charged forward.
"I didn't expect I'd get this pumped up!" "Once in a lifetime, I'll give it my all!" The fearless soldiers, wielding crimson spears and gleaming swords, attacked the dragon with unmatched ferocity.
The dragon's scales did not stop them this time. Their relentless slashes and thrusts wounded its body. Though the wounds were not deep, the pain made Vortigern roar wildly. It turned its long neck to bite the insects on the ground.
"Where do you think you're looking, stupid dragon! Hah!" Mordred leaped high, striking the dragon's head with her giant sword, sparks flying like iron clashing, breaking its open jaws.
"Hmph! Vortigern, you've fallen into a beast. You can't escape!"
"Roar!" The cornered dragon flapped its wings to flee.
"Not a chance!" King Pellinore threw three silver spears, piercing the dragon's wings. The last spear absorbed the shattered glow of the others, emitting golden light, manifesting his lifelong glory, and unleashed his strongest strike.
"Shatter the Glory of the Golden Sword!!!"
The barbarian king roared, axe raised, cutting off one of the dragon's wings.
Mordred's giant sword erupted with demonic flames, red lightning burning the other wing to charred remnants.
Lamorak, the towering knight, unleashed his noble phantasm, his muscles bulging with power, driving his spear into the dragon's claw and pinning it to the ground.
Artoria thrust her golden holy sword, piercing the dragon's other claw.
The soldiers seized the moment, surrounding the dragon and inflicting additional wounds.
"Arghhhh!" The severely wounded dragon spewed black blood, staining the ground and corroding the reality marble.
Though Vortigern, as the embodiment of earth, had lost higher draconic intelligence, its survival instinct made it endure the pain. Its blood's corrosive property, along with the black mud, eroded Shirou's reality marble.
"Shirou!" Artoria shouted.
"I know!" Shirou replied. This time, he would give the dragon no chance.
With magic draining rapidly, he needed to end it before the reality marble collapsed—but it had to be a single, decisive strike. Any failure, even leaving only a piece of the dragon, could allow its resurrection.
Shirou's eyes opened fully, like a kaleidoscope of multicolored light, no longer reflecting gems but emitting its own radiance. The eyes connected to the Holy Grail and surrounding space, absorbing all the great mana.
They sought a dragon-slaying hero across many worlds.
Found! A holy knight, protector of many Christian nations, riding a magical horse, wielding spear and sword, capable of swiftly slaying venomous dragons.
Shirou, feeling a surge of resolve, summoned this being: the dragon-slaying hero, Saint George!
Under simulated spirit-core conditions, Shirou performed the possession summon once more.
"Shirou, then lend me my strength," said a brown-haired man maintaining a camera at Chaldea, responding to the summoning.
Shirou's golden hair lengthened, divine aura surging, armor draped in a white cloak with a red cross, the spear shining with golden spiral light, blessed with Saint George's dragon-slaying power.
As England's famed protector, Saint George's presence greatly empowered Shirou upon possession.
Artoria ran forward, grasping the spear alongside Shirou, aiming at the dragon.
"Let's end this endless battle!" Shirou shouted.
The Round Table convened.
Around a massive round table, knights stood, declaring:
[This battle is one of survival]—Acknowledged, Kay. [This battle is not against humanity]—Acknowledged, Gaheris. [This battle is to pursue truth]—Acknowledged, Agravain. [This battle is not against elves]—Acknowledged, Lancelot. [This battle is not for personal gain]—Acknowledged, Galahad.
This meeting transcended space and time, completed in an instant. The dragon had not yet broken free.
The spear's light intensified rapidly. The body of the spear, now more like a column of pure light, was raised by the boy and girl. They looked at each other and shouted:
[This battle is to save the world]—!!!
The holy spear unsealed! Its radiant light shattered the black mud covering the dragon. Vortigern's body was fully exposed.
Shirou and Artoria, holding the spear together, struck with the spear's full power. The blessing of Saint George's dragon-slaying was upon it, rendering the dragon's once-impervious body as fragile as paper, piercing it effortlessly.
Roar!!! The bound dragon made its final struggle, muscles bulging, veins rupturing like waterfalls, blood transforming into black mud, attempting to devour the reality marble.
The spear's light incinerated the black mud and severed the dragon's connection to the earth. Everything shattered into fragments, enveloped by the dazzling light. Finally, the golden light surged into the sky, forming a towering column, like a heavenly spire.
"Roar…!!!" Vortigern lifted its head to the stars, and then began to disintegrate. Its enormous body gradually turned into sparkling dust.
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