Myth and reality.
Magic and steel.
Ten massive jetliners surged toward the magnificent and mysterious aerial marvel like a flock of migrating birds.
The steel wings and the legendary garden faced each other from afar, myth and modernity converging in this moment. Above them stretched the vast heavens—unchanged since ancient times, eternal and infinite—while below lay sprawling farmlands, silent fortresses, and fields blanketing ancient roads.
A pitch-black beam of light bridged fantasy and reality like a towering bridge. Yet what it brought was not connection or communication, but destruction and devastation!
As the roaring beam of light hurtled toward them, a lone figure climbed atop one of the planes.
Battered by knife-sharp, icy winds, the holy banner in her hands flapped violently. The girl standing atop the aircraft was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Perhaps due to the interference of the floating garden, the planes had slowed drastically as they approached, now reduced to a speed of 300 kilometers per hour. Even so, for an ordinary human, this would be more than enough to send them flying.
But Jeanne d'Arc, the Ruler, stood firm atop the plane. Though burdened with concern, she focused her entire being on the moment before her. Whether now or in the past, her duty was to raise her banner—to draw all attacks toward herself.
And both she and those gathered beneath the holy banner believed without doubt that she would never fall.
That was the vow of the Saint. As long as she held this banner here, this girl would never lose to any hero, past or present, from any land.
As Jeanne opened her eyes, her amethyst pupils ignited by the light of destruction, the howling winds roared around her. She raised her holy banner high, the pure white fleur-de-lis gleaming brilliantly.
No words were exchanged. The overwhelming beam of light struck the Saint's delicate frame—but what followed was an unbelievable sight. The terrifying attack, as if meeting an impenetrable wall of sorrow, refracted upon impact. Without losing any momentum, it was deflected by the holy banner, soaring back into the heavens.
BOOM!
One of the trailing jetliners exploded. Though Jeanne d'Arc's defense was unbreakable, she was still only one person. In contrast, the Empress's "Ten-and-One Black Coffins" blanketed the entire garden.
These were not single, fatal beams, but countless deep-purple orbs of light. Though their power was significantly reduced, for the hard yet fragile steel wings, even a single hit would be enough to send them spiraling down.
Despite the best efforts of the magical constructs piloting the planes, one jetliner was still obliterated. The sheer loss of the aircraft itself, not to mention the devastation its crash would cause, was enough to make one's stomach churn just imagining it.
Yet the opposing sides had cast all else aside, their eyes locked solely on each other. Unlike the original tale, there was no valiant Achilles charging into battle, nor did Atalanta launch an assault against Jeanne d'Arc. Meanwhile, those remaining in the garden—Siegfried, Artoria, and others—clearly had no intention of fighting with their full strength.
Though the Empress continuously unleashed magical formulas, under Jeanne d'Arc's protection, the Black Faction's advance was unusually swift. Moreover, the Red Faction mounted no additional counterattacks. The Hanging Gardens resembled a lethargic behemoth, drowsily allowing these insignificant intruders to trespass upon its domain.
Then, the moment everyone set foot in the garden—it awoke from its slumber.
"ROOOOAR—!!!"
The giant's bellow shook the heavens. Drawing upon the garden's mana-saturated soil, the Primordial Golem reformed its skeletal structure, fleshed out its muscles, and erected a towering platform atop the already vast gardens. Without unnecessary movement, its obsidian sword carved through the air with chilling arcs, effortlessly tearing apart the fleet of passenger planes hovering in standby with unparalleled destructive force.
Explosions tore at eardrums as mushroom clouds erupted one after another above the garden. Falling wreckage and debris transformed into a rain of fire, igniting flower beds and vegetation before bouncing off the Primordial Giant's skin and continuing their descent.
Amid flames and roaring winds, the giant stomped upon earth and water, bellowing as it proclaimed its resurgence to the gathered heroes.
"What?!"
"The Primordial Giant—Adam...?!"
"How is it alive?! Wasn't it destroyed by a Noble Phantasm?!"
Not only were the Black Faction's heroes stunned, but even within the Red Faction's throne room, the Empress paled as she watched Adam's rampage through her magical projection.
"Black Caster—Avicebron... So you were one of them all along!"
"Well, he was brought aboard by Reika Rikudou. Still, who could've imagined the Primordial Giant still lived, hidden within the gardens?" By now, Amakusa had regained his composure. "But I must admit, Adam could prove immensely useful. Defeating it would cost the Black Faction dearly."
The current allegiances were clear—though both Black and Red Factions excluded the Blue, they remained rivals. Once the Blue Faction fell, the Holy Grail War would inevitably revert to their conflict.
"...Precisely." Though overflowing with murderous intent toward Black Caster's actions, Semiramis gritted her teeth and endured. "Until the opportune moment arrives, we must tolerate these Blue Faction fools and their antics."
"Rest easy, Assassin." Amakusa closed his eyes, sensing an ineffable revelation, and smiled. "The scales have begun to tilt. The moment we and the Black Faction await approaches."
Meanwhile, Sakatsuki communicated with Shakespeare through their Command Spell link:
"Progress report?"
"Oho! My Master! As you anticipated, the grand play has commenced, and we charge headlong toward ruin! Ah, magnificent! Allow me to shower you with thunderous applause!"
"Hmph. Good enough."
Ignoring Shakespeare's impassioned soliloquy, Sakatsuki cut off the communication and turned his attention to the scene before him, his brow deeply furrowed—
The resistance hastily organized by the Black Faction was far more lax than he had anticipated.
Apart from Jeanne d'Arc, who had immediately rushed to the front lines and used her holy banner to restrain the giant's advance, the others had surprisingly remained inactive. Instead of engaging Adam, they had retreated beyond his attack range, manifesting their weapons as if on guard against the giant's every move—yet in reality...
"Are they wary of me?" Realizing this, Sakatsuki quickly reviewed his past actions but found no oversights.
Thus, the issue must lie in something unknown to him.
"The most likely source of the problem is Shakespeare—that troublemaker would do anything for a good story, such as informing Amakusa and the others about me in advance. Alternatively, it could be Amakusa himself, who might have revealed details about the Blue Faction to the Black Faction to maintain balance...
Or perhaps the heroes have uncovered the truth behind the murders, which wouldn't be too difficult.
Yet even if exposed earlier than planned, Sakatsuki showed no panic. Having considered so many possibilities in an instant meant he had anticipated this long ago—how could he not be prepared?
Moreover—
"Once Shakespeare's side is complete, you've already lost, pitiful heroes."
With an undisguised sneer, the young man turned to face Avicebron, who had appeared behind him:
"So, since you've chosen to break your silence, shouldn't you give me a reasonable explanation?"
Hearing this, Avicebron remained motionless, but his eyes behind the mask flashed with a piercing intensity:
"Then allow me to question you, who holds the authority of a Master—just how far do you intend to push my golem, the primordial Adam, before you're satisfied?"
The giant's roars and the clashing of sword and banner faded into the distance. The puppet master's concealed fury rang clear in the Hanging Gardens. Sakatsuki instinctively glanced around—most present showed no reaction. Jeanne d'Arc was fully focused on her battle with the giant, paying no heed to the exchange. But beyond her, Achilles wore an expression of anger and sorrow, Chiron drew his bowstring taut, and even Karna raised his spear.
As I expected, they've already figured it out... But no matter. At this point, dwelling on which link failed is pointless. All that remains is to unleash the power accumulated thus far.
Thus, in response to Avicebron's accusation, Sakatsuki merely scoffed:
"Isn't it obvious? To serve as an effective pawn, expendable in the final battle to weaken the enemy—until nothing remains. Of course, if it survives the annihilation of all foes, then the Hanging Gardens shall be its final grave."
From the very beginning, Avicebron had been chosen solely for the power of his Noble Phantasm, "Golem Keter Malkuth." The Adam that manifested as a giant was, to Sakatsuki, nothing more than a valuable consumable. Even its retrieval wasn't out of sentiment but pure utility.
ROOOOAR—!
The giant let out a roar of unwillingness. Amidst the earth-shaking tremors, the obsidian sword it wielded grew heavier and more forceful, yet it could never be directed at the young man who had brought it suffering—only swung again and again, as if venting its fury upon the saintly maiden.
"Then forgive me for resisting this fate." Faced with Sakatsuki's cold words, Avicebron immediately refused. "Saving the world, saving humanity, saving my people... this is the true purpose of the giant Adam's existence. Your actions are nothing short of an insult to me, to my wish—I absolutely cannot forgive you."
"Heh..." The young man chuckled softly in response to the hero's fury. "How amusing, Caster. Let me return your own words to you: 'This is utterly unreasonable. I never expected you to be so emotional.'"
This is completely different—you're insulting my very person and dignity!
The Kabbalistic puppetmaster surely wanted to retort, but before he could, he found himself unable to speak.
Bang!
The gunshot silenced all other sounds. In that instant, the heroes whose pupils constricted in shock and the saintly maiden who turned back in astonishment all became mere background in a monochrome silent film.
Time froze like amber. Among the motionless, colorless figures, only one person withdrew a ferocious pistol, his irises trailing blue smoke. In the fading light, they reflected blood and fragments as the young man shed his concealing black robe, revealing his powerfully built torso. He brought his hand to his chest and struck it heavily.
Then, a second color erupted—the suffocating wings of a fallen angel unfurled, tearing through the sky with bloody radiance.
"By my first Command Spell, I command my puppet (Servant)—carve your existence into the soul of the primordial giant!"
"By my second Command Spell, I command my puppet (Servant)—I am authority, the will that reigns above you!"
"By my third Command Spell, I command my puppet (Servant)—activate your final skill, 'Tranquil Fig,' and bestow one last blessing upon the puppet you cherish!"
Thus, in a counterattack that the Black and Red Factions had anticipated yet were still unprepared for, the Blue Faction's puppet—the primordial giant Adam, whose stature reached the heavens—let out an earth-shaking roar. As Avicebron's spiritual form merged into the puppet's body, its size swelled once more, and an emerald halo manifested behind it. Its towering presence was nothing short of divine!
Standing thirty meters tall, it had achieved the second stage of its Noble Phantasm incarnation—[Golem Keter Malkuth: Royal Crown - the Light of Wisdom]—and now reigned supreme!