"Awwooo—!"
The snow-white fatty tumbled through the air, somehow "effortlessly" dodging Karna's divine spear.
Even the Noble Phantasm bestowed by the Heavenly Emperor Indra failed to hit the massive target that was Gordes. Yet despite his bulk, the man curled up into a ball, clutching his groin and howling in agony.
His lungs bellowed with such force that the wails echoed across the night sky, like a blaring warhorn announcing the opening act of the Holy Grail War in Romania.
—But surely, Mr. Gordes never volunteered for the role of curtain-raiser, did he?
"How could this be?" Karna's face was a picture of stunned disbelief, but the instincts of a warrior drove him to press forward toward Gordes.
The divine spear granted by Indra answered his call, condensing once more into a crimson streak that flashed into his grip. But again, his path was blocked.
Siegfried, clad in silver armor and gripping his dragon-slaying blade, stood loyal as a hound before his Master, shielding him with unwavering devotion.
But Karna simply sidestepped "Mr. Sorry," his movements sharp and relentless, and kept charging at Gordes.
With his Agility ranked at A, Karna's speed far outstripped Siegfried's. And with the protection of O Sun, Become Armor, he could withstand even Balmung — Phantom Apology: Demonic Kneel. As long as the enemy Master died, no matter how mighty Siegfried was, he was not an Archer. Without his Master, he would be unable to fight.
In other words, killing Gordes would mean a decisive victory for the Red Faction. And as a battlefield-hardened hero undefeated in the Mahabharata, Karna would never let such an opportunity slip away.
But just then, a slender figure stepped between Gordes and his death.
"Hey! Road's closed, you know."
With a playful lilt in her voice, Tamamo-no-Mae chuckled, holding a glowing charm in her hand. Her purple shrine maiden outfit—cut scandalously short—was inscribed all over with flowing Magecraft formulas of "enhancement." Rhodes's handiwork, clearly.
Her wooden clogs glimmered with dense magical radiance. Even her Polygamy Castration Fist—usually delivered as a devastating kick aimed at the male anatomy—had been "modified." Out of Rhodes's jealous possessiveness, her geta carried a magical shield that prevented any direct contact with certain places. The result: the punishment had evolved from a simple strike to a shattering, bone-crunching blunt impact.
At this moment, Mr. Gordes's wails had ceased. His body convulsed in spasms of pain, curled up like a boiled shrimp, his honor as a magus soiled along with his once-pristine white suit, now smeared with filth.
"Pathetic, isn't it, Mr. Gordes? Is this what passes for a magus's dignity—rolling in the mud and whimpering like a child?"
The words dripped with mockery. Dressed in a snow-white suit, Rhodes emerged from the depths of shadow. With him came two colossal figures of iron.
Bodies forged of steel, veins of mithril, their frames coated with a stealth layer laced with shadowsteel, and on their backs, massive greatswords alloyed with orichalcum—
They were war machines in the truest sense. Each stood six meters tall, making Rhodes look small by comparison.
At a glance, they resembled awe-inspiring statues of gods. But there was always something off about them—after all, with Rhodes's bizarre sense of aesthetics, his Golems usually had a grab-bag of modern weapons slapped on: aircraft cannons, semi-automatic grenade launchers, even shoulder-mounted anti-tank missiles. Yet these constructs bore no such tech. Their silver armor gleamed only with the pure glow of Magecraft.
Of course, this wasn't a change in taste—just Rhodes holding back.
"So, you're Red's Lancer, Karna? Sorry, but you can't kill this idiot just yet." Rhodes stood casually behind Tamamo-no-Mae, mocking amusement in his tone. "Even livestock unfit for slaughter has its uses. All the more so when that livestock is a Master in the Holy Grail War. It's not time for this fool to die."
"Oh? And if I insist?" Karna hesitated for only a moment, then raised his divine spear once more.
"If you insist…" Rhodes's voice turned cold. "Then you'll have to leave your life here."
The two steel giants—ninety-six tons each—answered with a sharp electronic buzz, raising their enormous swords.
Those six-meter blades, infused with orichalcum, could not be blocked without injury, not even by a Heroic Spirit. Even O Sun, Become Armor—the little sun itself—would balk at clashing head-on with such monstrosities.
And besides, Tamamo-no-Mae was prowling nearby, and Siegfried loomed like a fortress.
"Please. Stand down, both of you."
A harsh voice rang out behind them. Karna froze and turned, only to find Jeanne d'Arc, her face cold and merciless.
She gripped her Holy Banner tightly, her expression so detached it even made Karna—the ever-valiant hero—feel a creeping fear.
It was the instinctive dread of meeting a natural enemy.
"Oh? And what business does Miss Jeanne have with me?" Rhodes gently nudged Tamamo-no-Mae aside and stepped forward with a smile, as though completely unguarded.
"First Commandment: Target confirmed—'Rhodes Frain Yggdmillennia.' Commencing decapitation strike."
The chilling declaration rang out like a hymn. In the next instant, Jeanne shot forward, golden winds swirling around her as she bypassed Karna in a flash and closed the distance to Rhodes.
Tamamo-no-Mae gasped, stunned. She had never imagined the supposedly impartial arbiter, stiff and rule-bound to a fault, would attack so ruthlessly without a word.
Shrrk—!
The tip of the Holy Banner pierced Rhodes's flesh, running him clean through. Yet Rhodes only smiled faintly, as if the wound didn't exist.
"So… the Counter Force—or should I say, the World itself—has finally set its sights on me." His voice was mocking, though blood dripped thick from the corner of his mouth. He still grinned with playful contempt. "And in this state, you can't use Revelation anymore, can you?"
"What do you mean?" Jeanne twisted the bloodstained banner, tearing his body apart, her voice rigid and mechanical.
But at that very moment, from behind her came a cruel, owl-like laugh, echoing over the blood-soaked earth.
"Ofcourse, I mean you're an idiot, Miss Laeticia—along with that nameless Guardian.'"
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