The four Servants ran as fast as they could; their lives depended on it.
Achilles glanced at the sky, then twisted his body to dodge Dante's descent; the impact shattered the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Seeing the enemy exposed, Alice seized the moment to attack, unleashing a barrage of compressed air.
The blond man, weapon at the ready, darted aside, aimed his submachine gun, and fired wildly.
The green-haired man stepped in front of the girl and spun his spear, deflecting the rapid-fire shots.
A split second later, Nightingale appeared behind Dante with her fist cocked, but her strike hit nothing but air.
The blond man dodged by shifting to the side and drawing his knife; two quick slashes drew blood from the woman before him, yet to his surprise, she showed no sign of pain and didn't even flinch.
She simply struck the ground where he had been standing with her other fist, forcing him to leap backward; the impact drove her hand deep into the earth.
She then used that momentum to tear up the ground beneath Dante, forcing him to use *Soru* to escape; the moment he landed on solid ground, Gaheris appeared, sword at the ready.
Knife and sword clashed simultaneously, sending sparks flying.
Achilles watched with a grimace of unease—not regarding the situation, but regarding himself. Glancing at his heel, he decided it was time to act.
"Woman, you said you could heal my heel," Achilles said, appearing beside her.
"I have a name, you know," Nightingale snapped, turning her gaze from the wounds on her body to the green-haired man.
The Greek hero could only offer an apologetic look.
Nearby, the ceaseless clashing of metal rang out. Dante parried the knight's blows—delivered with exquisite swordsmanship—yet the knight still failed to land a single strike on his opponent.
"What's the matter? I expected more from a Knight of the Round Table," Dante taunted, kicking him and sending him flying back several meters.
Seizing the opportunity created by the distance, the assassin attempted a high-speed attack but found himself unable to move his feet.
Looking down, he realized his feet were completely frozen.
As he watched the ice crackling around his feet, Dante saw Gaheris heading straight for him. Without a second thought, he shattered the ice with a forward kick.
The shards of ice raining down forced the knight to squint.
But this gave the assassin an opening to attack; he drove his knife into Gaheris's abdomen, making the knight grit his teeth.
Meanwhile, Alice had positioned herself behind Dante and unleashed a magical attack, but to her horror, the assassin roughly grabbed Gaheris and used him as a shield.
This gave Lot's son the chance to strike Dante, slashing vertically across his torso.
Seeing his opponent continue to attack despite his injuries, he grabbed him like a ragdoll and slammed him into the ground; the impact caused him to bounce, breaking several of his ribs in the process.
"Sir Knight," Alice said, sounding distressed as she ran toward him.
"I'm fine," Gaheris declared, stopping her with a wave of his hand. "Just back me up from behind, no matter what happens."
Hearing this and seeing the knight's determination, Alice nodded and prepared to attack.
Dante was reloading his weapon, listening to the exchange with little interest.
Glancing at the knight—who looked all but dead—he fired without hesitation.
Gaheris quickly deflected almost all the bullets with his sword; only three struck his armor, causing little damage.
The assassin noticed a subtle shift in the knight's demeanor and narrowed his eyes.
Knife in hand, he lunged to attack, only to be stopped by his opponent. A rapid exchange of blows between the two weapons unfolded in the blink of an eye, forcing Gaheris to leap backward.
Afterward, a lull in the action ensued. Dante studied the knight; despite being gravely wounded, the man was somehow now able to counter his attacks with greater skill.
"What kind of ability is this?" the blond man asked.
"That of a knight who never yields, no matter the adversity," Gaheris replied, ready to resume the fight.
Gaheris was currently employing two Noble Phantasms. The first, *Orkney's Knight*, embodied his ideal self as a knight serving King Arthur, granting him supreme precision and an enhanced ability to analyze his foe. The second, *The Knight Who Fell Before the Betrayal*—derived from the legend surrounding the Guinevere and Lancelot affair—imposed two conditions: the closer he came to death, the more powerful he became, and he could not fall immediately after sustaining a mortal wound.
Dante was about to move when, suddenly, his eyes widened in a moment of panic; he twisted his body and scrambled away just as a green beam of light tore through the space where his head had been a split second before.
Seeing this, the knight dropped to one knee, gripping his sword, while Alice finally sprinted over to his side.
"So, he intends to fight," Gaheris remarked, wiping the blood from his mouth.
Across the way, the blinding beam came to an abrupt halt against Dante's sheer force, shattering the ground beneath his feet.
As the momentum slowed, the blond warrior was revealed holding back Achilles' spear. He couldn't help but notice the hero's heel—now fully healed.
"I see. So you've finally decided to rise from the mud, son of Peleus," Dante said forcefully.
"That's right, son of Hades. If I want to face you, I have to use my full strength," Achilles declared. He shifted his spear to deflect Dante's weapon and attempted a kick, but his opponent mirrored the move, causing both of them to be pushed backward.
"Then I'll have to turn up the heat a little," the blond said with a smile.
The two warriors locked eyes, studying each other's stance—the positioning of hands and feet—and even the slightest micro-expressions.
Suddenly, Achilles vanished, leaving trails of green lightning in his wake; Dante narrowed his eyes, tracking the man's incredible speed.
Streaks of green light darted around the blond, zig-zagging unpredictably from one spot to another.
The assassin's expression didn't change, nor did he look up at the spectacle; he simply closed his eyes and waited. A few seconds later, snapping his eyes open, he took a massive step backward, narrowly dodging a vertical strike from Achilles.
He quickly raised his blade to parry the green-clad warrior's spear thrust, sending the weapon—and its wielder—soaring into the air. "I'm not done yet," Achilles roared, unleashing a rapid-fire barrage of blows into the air.
...
A Viking ship could be seen resting at the water's edge. A bearded man wearing a helmet was cleaning his sword while gazing at the green lights in the center of the island.
"I hope we make it out of this alive," he remarked, looking grim.
...
Two figures darted ceaselessly back and forth across the sky.
Dante, utilizing *Geppo* and his full speed, maneuvered to evade Achilles' terrifying attacks, while his opponent constantly shifted position.
Multiple green energy strikes from the enemy's spear shot toward him. Spinning his knife, he parried them as best he could.
"Damn it, this weapon isn't designed for this kind of combat," Dante grumbled, his eyes darting about as he tried to track Achilles.
During one of these exchanges, the blond man's weapon was knocked from his grasp, giving the green-haired warrior an opening to strike.
Without hesitation, he lunged at the assassin, intending to kill him with a single blow; yet, just as he was mere meters away from striking, the blond moved in mid-air and intercepted the attack with his foot.
"What?" Achilles wondered, stunned to see his thrust parried so effortlessly. It was all part of Dante's plan, however; he had deliberately abandoned his weapon to bait his opponent into going for the kill, thereby creating this very opportunity.
Using all his strength, he sent the Greek hero flying backward—shock quickly giving way to panic as Achilles saw the blond looming over him, fist cocked and ready to strike.
Instinctively, he summoned his shield and held it before him.
"*I Grothiá tis Kólasis*," Dante declared, striking the shield.
Achilles felt his body shudder and his bones begin to fracture—particularly the arm bracing the shield; it felt as though his very body were on the verge of shattering.
The green-haired warrior was driven into the ground, obliterating the terrain within a thirty-meter radius.
Once on the ground, Dante surveyed the devastation and watched as Achilles struggled to his feet, his arm mangled and bleeding profusely.
"Where did you get that kind of strength?" the green-haired warrior couldn't help but ask, gasping for breath. The assassin said nothing; he simply positioned himself to try and kill Achilles with a single blow, but he sensed a presence approaching from the side.
"I expected nothing less from you, Mr. Dante," said the figure standing there, gazing at the blond man.
Dante stood dumbfounded, staring at the man he had known so long ago—a moment of distraction that allowed a spinning dragon to slam into him.
"Wipe everything out, Tarasque!" commanded the voice behind the massive lizard, striking it with a large cross.
The dragon tore through everything, sweeping Dante along with it and carrying him away from the spot.
Seeing this, Bemus sighed and turned his gaze toward Achilles.
"It's good to see you're alright, Lord Achilles," the swordsman remarked.
"It's not bad to have reinforcements, but that won't stop it," the green-haired man said.
"Ugh, what on earth are you talking about?" the woman in saintly robes asked, her tone slightly aggressive.
Just then, the dragon was seen soaring through the air before crashing down right where they stood, kicking up a cloud of smoke.
"What the—I mean, good heavens," the saint corrected herself; Bemus shot her a sidelong glance at her sudden shift in demeanor, then ignored the dragon to watch Dante walking slowly out from the depths of the forest.
"I can't believe we're seeing each other again, Bemus; I never thought you'd become a Heroic Spirit," the blond man said, looking at the swordsman.
"Neither did I, but I'm part of his legend—forging my own as one of the very first Greek heroes," Bemus explained; after all, the events of his life predated even Theseus or Perseus himself.
"I see; that makes sense. In that case, let me honor our reunion with a grand farewell—using my most iconic weapon in your honor," Dante declared, extending his hand to summon his scythe and taking a combat stance.
"Here it comes," he said—half-complaining, half-accepting—as he gripped his spear with his good arm.
Bemus simply stared at him as he drew his sword.
Dante lunged forward at high speed, intending to end it all in one stroke, but just meters away, Bemus's sword began to glow—shining as if it were the sun itself.
The very next second, the assassin's body was engulfed in flames, and he began to burn. "SHIT!!!" Dante exclaimed, springing up with all his might. He vanished from the spot, shattering the ground and shaking the entire area.
Massive cracks tore across the island as the tremors continued.
The three of them struggled to keep their balance, but the shaking stopped after a few seconds.
The sword's glow began to dim until it resembled a 360-degree lantern, allowing everyone to see without having to shield their eyes to avoid blindness.
"What was that?" Achilles asked, surprised that this ally's attack had repelled one of the most powerful Greek figures in existence.
"I have no idea; I just wanted to blind him a little," Bemus admitted, not having expected his attack to set Dante ablaze.
"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Santa Marta declared, one hand on her hip and the other resting on her cross.
No one disputed that fact.
At that moment, Bemus looked at Achilles.
"We didn't come here to repel Dante; we came to bring you in as an ally of the rebellion. Are you coming with us?" the swordsman asked.
The green-haired man grimaced in dissatisfaction.
"I have no choice; if I don't go with you, Dante will surely come back to finish me off, and I don't think I can defeat him alone," the Greek hero finally admitted.
Bemus smiled at the thought that he wouldn't be returning to Libra empty-handed.
"Excellent. Let's go find the others so we can head back to the fortress," the swordsman said, walking toward the spot where his ally was supposed to be with the other Servants on the island.