This wasn't exactly a mistake by a nameless soul.
More accurately, the body still hadn't fully adjusted to close-quarters combat.
But the bigger issue was this: the opponent chosen to 'get used to it' was far too specialized in melee fighting.
"W-What do you mean Gil is going to lose!?" Rikka blurts out, unable to accept it.
"Exactly what I said. He's an Archer. Saber is a swordsman. His advantage—distance—was erased in an instant."
"But he's keeping up! He's handling it!"
That's true. He hasn't taken a fatal blow yet.
But under Saber's relentless assault, Gilgamesh doesn't even seem to have time to counterattack.
"He's handling it, but that's all. At that distance, there's no time to fire Noble Phantasms or throw weapons. And he rarely fights up close in the first place. Can you blame him? Normally, shooting is enough."
The Caster speaks plainly, delivering a cold, veteran analysis of the battlefield.
"It's a losing battle. He'll get overwhelmed eventually. At that range, Saber won't give him time to use his specialty—or switch weapons. That's the kind of fighter she is right now."
He glances down at Rikka.
"Sooner or later, his head's going to roll. The golden one's."
"…That can't be…"
Her ears and heart reject the words, like hearing a language from another world.
Lose?
Gil?
That proud yet kind, scary yet caring King of Heroes… lose?
If he loses, he'll disappear. This isn't an opponent who would show mercy.
Memories rush through her mind.
The first Servant she summoned besides Mash.
The king who eased her tension at their first meeting.
He was terrifying at first—but he protected her and Mash when they were lost and afraid.
The king who fought Servants alone because it was dangerous.
The scary, kind king who stayed with them, no matter how messy things got.
Disappear?
Never see him again?
Really?
Forever?
She could summon him again.
But would that really be this Gil?
Wouldn't it just be someone else?
No.
She hated that.
"…Gil…"
She doesn't love Hero King Gilgamesh.
She doesn't care about Servants or titles.
She loves the Gil who answered her summons.
The Gil who encouraged Mash.
The Gil who praised the Director.
The Gil who gave them candy so everyone could smile.
She loves her Gil.
The one who is here, now.
Being able to summon him again doesn't matter.
Calling another version doesn't matter.
That wouldn't be the Gil she wants to stand beside.
She needs the Gil who fought here with her.
"Ah—!"
Mash screams.
Then—
After one sharp clash of steel—
"—Ah—"
The Noble Phantasm in Gil's hand shatters.
"—Ah—"
And in the next instant, Saber's counterstrike cuts through Gilgamesh.
"—GIL――――――!!!"
--
It wasn't arrogance.
It was overconfidence.
I thought I could judge myself in battle.
I thought I could figure out my fighting style next time.
—That was naïve. A very human kind of naïveté.
My upper body was still attached.
But the armor on my torso was completely shattered, and my spiked hair hung limp from the impact.
A cold voice rang out.
"I couldn't tell whether this was arrogance or not, but I will call it foolishness. Trying to match the red dragon of Britain with childish swordplay—that was your mistake."
"…Tch. Damn it. Even I lost my way. I played around too much."
"That is a modest confession. Lacking, but sufficient. Are those your final words?"
No curses. No bluster.
I accepted my failure as my own burden.
This bad call was my fault.
The moment I picked up a sword, I had already lost.
The moment she closed the distance, I had lost.
The moment it became a sword fight—I had lost.
There was dullness in me somewhere. That was the reason.
The vessel did well. It handled that sword far better than expected.
But I failed to grasp the path to victory beyond that. That's all.
"Then I will take your head. Do not hesitate—Hero King."
…Is this where I give up?
Is this where it ends?
Will I disappear here?
My soul trembles—
No.
"No—this is where I get serious!"
My soul ignites.
"—What!?"
Saber felt something wrong in her right hand at the exact moment she swung her sword.
"This is—!"
"Heh. This is my secret weapon. The supreme treasure that grants me victory when I am truly cornered!"
Chains—silver chains.
Wrapped tightly around her right arm was the final trump card of Gilgamesh—
"I won't get used to this often! Come—Chains of Heaven!"
In an instant, I drew another sword.
A demonic blade—the original dragon-slayer.
"Guh—!!"
That brief pause was fatal.
The blade pierced armor and magic alike, stabbing deep into Saber's body.
"Fuhahahaha! Fool! Did you think I would accept defeat so easily!?" I laugh, the sound manic and triumphant. "A king must be thicker-skinned than anyone! Dying from exhaustion is unthinkable!"
"You—!"
"You talked too long, Saber! Licking your lips before the prey is sheer stupidity! My broken armor is regrettable, but as long as my body remains, it is trivial! Now—take your reward!"
Golden ripples spread through the air. Five gates.
"Witness it well! This is the true Archer! This is what it means to be an Archer!"
Blades and spears shot out at sonic speed, piercing Saber's limbs one after another.
"—Tch!!"
Even with her limbs ruined, she still lived. As expected of a dragon.
She forced the chains aside and leapt back.
So what if I was cut?
Compared to the helplessness I once knew, this was nothing.
So what if I'm wounded?
Compared to the emptiness I once felt, this was nothing.
That's right.
This soul has only just begun to walk.
To do what must be done.
To leave proof that I lived.
If I worried about every wound—
"Now, watch closely! This is the pinnacle of the Archer! The only shooting allowed to me!"
—For Mash, who clenches her teeth and endures fear.
—For my Master, who faces her fate without looking away.
"I will show you a fragment of my supreme treasure!"
Golden ripples multiply. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Fifty—one hundred gates.
They surround Saber from every direction.
And above all—
To myself, dwelling in this vessel—to Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes!
"Gate of Babylon—King's Treasury!!!"
I owe it to them—!
Countless swords, axes, spears, and halberds rain down.
An endless storm of supreme bullets. Ruthless, merciless destruction.
And this time—every single weapon was carefully chosen to slay dragons.
Learning from my mistake, I gave not even a shred of mercy.
While the vessel roared, I desperately selected each weapon.
If the Hero King's firing is crude, then I will choose the ammunition.
When every randomly fired shot is a guaranteed killing blow, quantity and quality unite into the ultimate barrage.
The King's arrogance and a nameless soul's caution combined—Here, the Noble Phantasm Gate of Babylon was fully unleashed.
Eventually, I felt her Spirit Core shatter and stopped the bombardment.
Her body, pierced everywhere, still stood glaring at me like an unsinkable ship.
Then she spoke quietly.
"If those were useless weapons, I would have deflected them. But weapons meant to slay dragons leave me no choice."
"Take it as my final gift to you. Had you not been clouded by distractions, your blade might have finished me."
"One day, you will understand, Hero King."
Saber's form begins to fade into golden particles.
"That the journey for the Holy Grail—the Grand Order—has only just begun."
Before I could ask what she meant, the black king vanished.
…She was strong.
He—no, she—was also a powerful hero who had forged her soul.
I offer respect to that soul.
And hope that, someday, we may meet again in another form.