A shrill whistle pierced the sky as three orange-steel cones streaked through the air, piercing straight through the phantom image of a holy knight before crashing into the Hanging Gardens.
At that moment, the Empress exposed within the blast radius widened her eyes in shock.
What the hell?
Why are they targeting me?!
Boom.
The three 'missiles' struck home.
In the next instant, violent explosions and flames erupted within the Hanging Gardens, shaking the entire fortress. Amid the roaring inferno and sweeping shockwaves, the streams, gardens, and palaces once again groaned under the brutal devastation.
The terrifying explosion resounded through the heavens, the ensuing storm reducing everything on the surface to ruins. Under the bombardment of an A-rank Noble Phantasm, countless steel fragments sowed death in all directions, accompanied by sharp, piercing shrieks.
When the destruction finally subsided, three massive craters marked the center of the garden. Molten earth flowed across the scorched blackened ground, while acrid smoke and dust dispersed in the chaotic winds.
The spreading magma touched the black-and-gold high heels, only to be flicked away disdainfully by their owner. After a cough, the Empress covered her mouth and muttered, "Still alive, Saint?"
Ahead of her, a dust-covered figure shook its head, sending flakes of debris flying. As the dust cleared, a pair of amethyst eyes glared resentfully at the Empress.
"Pfft…" Semiramis couldn't help but laugh at Jeanne d'Arc's disheveled appearance, though she summoned a gentle breeze before the saint could get angry, restoring her to her usual colors.
"Thanks." The girl patted her clothes with lingering fear before glancing gloomily at the holy flag in her hand. "At this rate, even if you make me block the front, it won't matter. It's reaching its limit."
Following Jeanne's gaze, the Empress noticed—though faint—the countless fine cracks spiderwebbing across the flagpole like ice-cracked glaze. It looked as though the slightest pressure would shatter it completely.
The Holy Flag: I'm cracking up.jpg
Even if Jeanne could convert her EX-rank Magic Resistance into physical defense, the flag wasn't an inexhaustible shield against the unreasonable might of anti-fortress Noble Phantasms. Each use accumulated damage, and enduring this long since the Holy Grail War's start was already a miracle.
"It was supposed to last much longer." Jeanne stroked the flag mournfully. "But Sakatsuki's attacks aren't purely magical or physical—they're composite. They're troublesome to deal with."
"Of course I understand." Semiramis' expression turned grave. "A few more hits like that, and the Hanging Gardens will collapse completely… And yet, that man still has four more of those missiles ready."
Overwhelming destructive power—enough to make even heroes tremble. This was Sakatsuki's unique anti-fortress Noble Phantasm, born from the fusion of scientific theory and high thaumaturgy.
And yet, even in the face of such peril—
"That holy knight… still advances."
Looking up at the boundless starry sky, the knight known as Astolfo—weak yet strong—had transformed himself into a shooting star.
"Let's go, Hippogriff! This is the final stretch!"
The delicate, almost girlish figure who shouted these words to bolster his courage could feel his hands and feet trembling. Not just that—his teeth were chattering in the cold winds of high altitude.
Astolfo knew this emotion well. It was fear.
He was no great hero like Siegfried or Achilles, blessed with boundless courage. Nor did he possess the saintly composure and pride of Jeanne d'Arc or Amakusa Shirou. Just a comedic knight straight out of adventure tales, yet here he was, facing down lethal electromagnetic cannon fire like a moth diving headlong into flames.
You don't have to do this, his instincts protested.
There's no need for you to push your limits. Even if you drop your lance now and have your partner carry you back to your Master, that gentle girl would surely forgive you if you played it smart and acted pitiful. She might even pat your head and comfort you with a smile.
After all, Astolfo had always been weak. His entire life had been sustained by sunshine and an optimistic smile—even by abandoning reason for the sake of comedy, becoming a laughingstock for posterity to remember as that unreliable knight famed not for battle or glory.
No one expected him to slay evil dragons. No one anticipated him overcoming hardships. He wasn't a child of gods, never slew a dragon, never became king. Though he'd put in considerable effort, he'd never undergone any grueling, extreme training.
The price for that could only be paid with his own weakness—an undeniable reality.
So just give up. Isn't this survival method something we're long accustomed to?
"...No." Astolfo shook his head violently, as if trying to cast out his own cowardice, timidity, and weakness, then pulled hard on the reins.
"I may be weak, but I have absolutely no intention of using that as an excuse!"
As he shouted, Astolfo clearly saw the flicker of surprise that crossed Sakatsuki's face.
Was he puzzled by my soliloquy? Or... surprised I shook off his mental interference?
The Evaporation of Reason brought Astolfo not just drawbacks but also skills akin to Instinct, allowing him to quickly break free from Sakatsuki's Third Magic emotional interference. With hesitation gone, the pink-haired paladin cried out, spurring Hippogriff into a fierce charge.
"Fire."
The sixth shell launched, filling his vision once more with that tangerine-hued light of annihilation. Gritting his teeth, Astolfo seized the moment to activate [Dimensional Leap] again. But this time, as he hid within the world's inner layer, he saw Sakatsuki snap his fingers. Metallic glints swirled as several coin-like objects materialized before the young man.
"Hey hey, you've gotta be kidding—!"
No matter how Astolfo wailed, the moment he emerged from [Dimensional Leap], several miniature electromagnetic cannons fired, slamming brutally into his body.
"Guh, uuuuuuuuu...!"
Even scaled-down, the bombardment sent agony through every bone as if they might shatter, tears involuntarily springing to his eyes.
But it was just pain. That's all.
Astolfo glanced at the golden spear in his hand—his beloved Noble Phantasm was now reduced to half its shaft. Without hesitation, he tossed it aside.
"Hippogriff, can you still go!?"
The Hippogriff responded with a resolute cry. Trusting in his partner, Astolfo pressed forward with his charge. Sensing his master's determination, the Hippogriff let out a high-pitched neigh and accelerated further.
Four-fifths of the distance had been crossed. Now, less than a hundred meters separated him from Sakatsuki!
"You think I'll let you succeed?!" Sakatsuki's eyes flashed like lightning as the last three railgun shells roared through the air. "Your magical energy must be exhausted by now, paladin. How will you dodge this time?!"
Sakatsuki was right. Two dimensional leaps and the charge atop the Hippogriff had drained both Astolfo and his Master, Sieg, of their magical energy. With the homunculus battery system unresponsive, Astolfo had no means left to evade.
But—
"Don't forget about me, teacher."
Inside the Fortress of Millennia, Sieg knelt on one knee, drained of energy, yet he raised his head to watch the knight who fearlessly faced the incoming railgun shells. Filled with pride, he decisively activated his second Command Spell.
"Bring me victory, Rider!"
"Ooooooh—!"
New power surged from within Astolfo's body, and he couldn't help but roar:
"Let's go! 'Hippogriff of Another World'!"
Once again, the scenery of the inner world unfolded before his eyes. The spirits dwelling there must have been baffled by this human knight leaping in and out—amused by the thought, Astolfo dodged the three shells with ease. The figure in the black robe grew larger and larger in his vision...
Wait!
Forcing his hazy consciousness back to reality, Astolfo's instincts screamed a warning.
It wasn't just him closing in on Sakatsuki—Sakatsuki was charging toward him as well!
"I never said I was just a stationary target."
The young man muttered coldly. The Spiral Sword had already transformed into ammunition, loaded into a pair of pistols that gleamed brilliantly under the crackling lightning, ready to fire.
With the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception activated, Sakatsuki flipped the safety and gripped the trigger—only to suddenly furrow his brow.
"...Huh?"
In the vision of his Mystic Eyes, he saw no lines of death on Astolfo's body. Only one Noble Phantasm—one that Astolfo had stubbornly refused to let go of until now—shone brilliantly under Sakatsuki's gaze.
"Could it be?!"
By the time he realized the truth, it was too late. Still concealed within the inner world, Astolfo let out a silent cry as he shot past Sakatsuki without even glancing back.
The young man who had been commanding the storm from his throne had abandoned his central position. Now was the moment for the paladin's counterattack!
"I never said my target was you, Sakatsuki!"
His form solidified from blurry to clear. Ignoring the sudden, excruciating pain that erupted inside his body and Sakatsuki's flick of the fingers behind him, Astolfo poured every last ounce of his strength into his arm and hurled the crucial Noble Phantasm.
"Bring us victory—Casseur de Logistille!"
The true name was unleashed in an instant. The grimoire bestowed upon the hero by the witch Rogershtila shattered into fragments, its pages fluttering like countless butterflies. Their pristine, soft wings parted the sea of lightning, flying toward the core of the Thunder Heavenly Palace, gently yet inexorably enveloping it.
Time seemed to freeze for a brief moment. Everyone held their breath as they watched the angelic white wings slowly but resolutely unfurl within the tempest of lightning. The purifying white light and the violent golden radiance intertwined, a terrifying storm of energy raging across the sky. Amidst the deafening roars, the earth split apart, and the heavens fractured—for a fleeting moment, it was as if hell itself had descended upon the world.
An ethereal cry, like the breaking of a cocoon, echoed in the void. The myriad bolts of lightning suddenly dispersed, their resistance flickering briefly before vanishing into silence. Pure white light illuminated the darkened sky, and the once-arrogant thunder now transformed into a gentle rain of burning radiance. The golden brilliance cascaded toward the earth in slow motion, burning away before even reaching the ground.
At the cost of sacrificing the grimoire, the supreme magecraft of the Age of Gods—Thunder Heavenly Palace—had been shattered!
Golden meteor showers filled the sky. Whether it was the Servants atop the Hanging Gardens or the Masters within the Fortress of Millennia, all couldn't help but widen their eyes, entranced by the magnificent and dazzling spectacle—the culmination of Frankenstein's Noble Phantasm, Artoria's Invisible Air, and the young man's magecraft of annihilation.
Even if their ideals clashed and they fought to the death, the awe of beauty engraved deep within the human heart knew no alignment of good or evil.
"So beautiful..." Astolfo murmured, dazed as he stood bathed in the golden rain, reaching out to catch the remnants of magical light. Beside him, Sakatsuki also lowered his weapon, squinting slightly as he spread his arms, savoring the first curtain call.
But it wasn't over yet, oh heroes.
If you thought this was all I had, you were sorely mistaken.
"Congratulations on clearing the first phase of the boss," the young man's voice rang out once more as everyone remained immersed in the aftermath of the Heavenly Palace's destruction. "Now then, let us continue our delightful slaughter."
The trigger was pulled, and a spiraling bullet shot forth. Just before it could pierce Astolfo's forehead, the glow of a final Command Spell flashed, whisking the gravely wounded hero back to the Fortress of Millennia. His black robes billowing, Sakatsuki held a gun in one hand while the other clutched the golden orb against his chest, feeling its pulse synchronize with his own heartbeat.
"Run with me one more time, Fran."
A dying beast was injected with one last dose of adrenaline. To the disbelief of all present, the golden rain abruptly ceased, gathered by an unseen force, compressed, and reforged—until it coalesced into a thunderous spear dozens of meters long, capable of piercing straight through the entire Hanging Gardens!
"This is madness!" The free-floating electric charge in the air made Jeanne d'Arc's hair stand on end. Without hesitation, she unfurled her holy banner. At the same time, Semiramis stomped the ground, activating a spatial transference magecraft to summon the embattled Mordred and Karna to her side. Chains erupted layer upon layer, hastily forming a makeshift barrier.
"Brace for impact! Ruler, can you handle this?!"
"I'll manage... I have to!"
Witnessing the overwhelming thunderous spear, Jeanne d'Arc instinctively swallowed hard and unhesitatingly unleashed her True Name.
"Here I offer my prayer—please protect my friends, my comrades—"
"Descend, the Wrath of Thunder!"
With flawless javelin-throwing form, Sakatsuki hurled the colossal lightning spear. Simultaneously, sacred radiance burst forth from Jeanne d'Arc as the Lord once again bestowed His grace upon the holy maiden:
"Luminosité Eternelle!"
Like divine retribution cast down by the gods, the spear effortlessly pierced through Semiramis' chains and struck the unyielding defense of the saint.
In the deafening silence where light and heat robbed all senses, amidst the thunderous chorus of a thousand voices singing hymns, an inverted golden tree flourished wildly—birthing calamitous forms that scattered seeds of death across the land.
Countless flames erupted violently across the garden, writhing like angry hands grasping at their surroundings. After an eternity of earth-shaking tremors that made one believe death had come, the destruction finally reached its crescendo before gradually subsiding.
Now the faltering sound of the holy banner became painfully clear. Though distress flashed in Jeanne's eyes, she maintained her defense, knowing retreat would expose her comrades behind her to mortal peril.
Yet danger never grants respite. As the thunder spear's baptism concluded, the young man's proud battle cry echoed across the ruined garden.
"Announcement—"
Light pierced the blackened night as snow began falling through scattered winds.
Through the young man's incantation, miracles took beautiful form.
"I exist here!"
Beyond the kaleidoscopic tunnel of consciousness lay the snow country.
After the golden sea of lightning, the black and red Servants were greeted by a pure white snow castle—where the young man called Sakatsuki reigned supreme as its absolute sovereign, the sole sun.
Reality Marble, deploy!