"Death to this king!"
Gilgamesh opened hundreds of gates at once, and in the golden wall occupying the heavenly dome, the treasures that flew out suddenly fell like a torrential rain!
Whoosh————!!!
In this case, even Diarmuid couldn't help but smile wryly. No matter how fast he is, he cannot stop all of them. Of course, he could choose to run away and give up protecting Irisviel and the others; that way, although he would be disgraced, he could survive. However, if the knightly Diarmuid did this, he would not have become a hero, nor would he have become a Heroic Spirit after death.
Diarmuid, who rushed in front of Irisviel and the others at top speed and blocked several Noble Phantasms for them, was pierced through his body by the group of treasures that descended one after another.
"Lancer...?"
Irisviel, who saw this scene, widened her eyes, completely unable to understand why a hostile Servant would sacrifice his life to save her like this. But she didn't have any more time to think, because the rain of treasures falling from the sky was not over yet.
Whoosh Whoosh ————!!!
"Irisviel!!"
Saber, seeing this scene, shouted anxiously. Her heart was full of self-reproach, and she was pained by her powerlessness at the moment. Irisviel naturally heard Saber's call, but she didn't have the reflexes to avoid these Noble Phantasms. For a moment, deep despair appeared in her ruby eyes.
Then, at this moment, from the side leading to the castle, in the darkness of the forest, a blue light bloomed. Immediately after, the same number of "swords" as the treasures shot towards Irisviel emerged from the woods, dragging out blue sword shadows and colliding with the Noble Phantasms falling from the sky!
Boom Boom Boom ————!!!
The treasures that collided together exploded like thunder, and even Gilgamesh's pupils couldn't help but shake after seeing this scene.
"Who is there!?"
There are people able to project a number of treasures equal to his own, and they dare to compete with his royal treasures. This kind of thing, for Gilgamesh, is simply an arrogant provocation. Is there actually a mongrel who wants to compete with the most ancient king in history in the number of treasures?
"Hmph!"
Gilgamesh scoffed, thinking only that the bastard who dared to provoke him was an ignorant fool. So, let us use this to show Saber the power of the only King in the sky. With such a thought, the corners of Gilgamesh's mouth rose. With a thought, the golden giant wall behind him once again produced all kinds of treasures.
It seemed that there were countless treasures, which made Saber, Irisviel, and the others below gasp.
"That guy's treasury... is it endless...!?"
At this time, Shirou came out of the forest and saw Diarmuid, who had been impaled through his body by several weapons but still remained in a standing position. When he saw Shirou coming, an apologetic expression appeared on the knight's handsome face.
"Sorry... Master, I may... not be able to be with you until the end..."
Shirou shook his head lightly and patted him on the shoulder.
"No, I should thank you for accompanying me so far. You are indeed a loyal knight."
Hearing this, Diarmuid's expression faltered, and some tears flashed in the hero's eyes. He then knelt down on one knee in front of Shirou and performed a knightly salute.
"I sincerely wish you the Holy Grail, my Lord..."
After saying this, Diarmuid's body turned into light and gradually disappeared. His two spears also went with their Master. From coming to this world to this exit, Diarmuid had only one wish: in the name of a knight, to fulfill the duties that he failed to complete in his previous life. The word "loyalty" was particularly important to him.
Now that he had been recognized by Shirou, his Lord, he was naturally satisfied and returned to the Throne of Heroes without regrets. After Lancer left the field, the Command Spells on the back of Shirou's hand were also removed. At this moment, he was no longer a participant in the Holy Grail War.
In that case, is it time to start... the last game?
After witnessing the departure of his Servant, Shirou took a deep breath. He turned around, raised his head, and looked straight at Gilgamesh, who was riding on the Vimana.
"A mere mongrel, you dare to look at this King like that?"
If it were a King from history like Saber, it would be fine; the gaze of other Kings only brought Gilgamesh more pleasure. But this roadside mongrel cannot! Reflecting Gilgamesh's anger, the treasures poking out of the golden ripples turned in unison, focusing on Shirou below.
...
"Who... are you...?"
Irisviel looked at the young man who suddenly appeared. She was puzzled by Lancer's salute to such a young man. What was going on? Wasn't Lancer's Master a child named Fujimaru Shirou? How could this boy, who looked seventeen or eighteen years old, suddenly be called "Lord"?
Suddenly, a flash of inspiration crossed Irisviel's mind, and a possibility occurred to her. A magecraft that can change one's impression in the eyes of others might be the cause. But why would he do it?
Unbeknownst to Irisviel, her guess was only half right. The young man in front of her is indeed Fujimaru Shirou, but the changed body shape is not some trick to obscure the eyes; it is real, changed through magecraft. The physical attributes that can match a Heroic Spirit also allow Shirou's strength to be better exerted in this form.
"Are you... Shirou...?" Saber asked as she stared blankly at the auburn-haired boy looking up at the sky, her lips slightly open.
"Is it necessary to explain now?" The young man's hair fluttered slightly in the night breeze. The corners of his mouth rose slightly, and he asked Saber rhetorically without looking away from the sky.
"..."
Indeed, everything that just happened already spoke to the identity of the teenager. However, there were some things that confused Saber. The sword that just knocked Kotomine Kirei away and dealt with those treasures projected by Gilgamesh—who did it?
Saber's question was answered in the next moment. The young man in the red sweatshirt stared intently at the Hero King above. His brown pupils reflected the golden light rippling in the sky. Then the boy spoke, his voice as calm as the surface of a lake.
"Trace... on!"