An EX-ranked anti-army Noble Phantasm, summoning independent Servants continuously.
This astonishing EX-ranked Noble Phantasm summoned independent Servants, each with a glorious reputation—warriors who had fought alongside the great Iskandar.
Everyone was speechless in awe. Even Archer, possessing an equally powerful EX-ranked Noble Phantasm, ceased his mockery upon witnessing this radiant army.
Heroic spirits, staking their dreams on their King, charging into battle together.
Unwavering loyalty unto death, transformed by the King of Conquerors into an unprecedented Noble Phantasm.
Saber was profoundly moved, not by fear of its power, but because it shook her own cherished beliefs.
This perfect support…
This bond between King and subject, manifested as a Noble Phantasm…
Something she had never achieved in her life as a King pursuing her ideals…
She had been defeated. Despite her intention to prove her kingship with her sword, before this perfect army, she was surpassed.
This perfect kingship, a King whose very death was supported by his subjects… she had been outmatched.
"A King… must live more truthfully than anyone… to be admired by all!"
Rider, astride his beloved warhorse, shouted. The Heroic Spirits responded with a thunderous clang of shields, shouting in unison.
"A King is one who gathers the beliefs of all brave warriors and sets out on an expedition with that as their goal. Therefore…"
"A King is not solitary. Because his ambition is the wish of all his subjects!"
"Indeed! Indeed! Indeed!"
The Heroic Spirits' resounding cries pierced the sky. No enemy or obstacle could stand before the King of Conquerors and his comrades. Their unwavering spirit could traverse the earth and cleave the sea.
The Assassins were mere wisps of cloud before them.
"Alright, let's begin, Assassins."
A cruel, bloodthirsty smile returned to Rider's face. Their refusal of the King's wine and attempt to harm his Master meant Rider showed no mercy.
"Annihilate them!"
Rider gave the order without hesitation. Then…
With the soldiers' cries, the long-dormant, iron-blooded army revealed its fangs once more in this modern city of steel and concrete.
They'd forgotten the Grail, victory, their mission—they were lost in the moment.
Some fled, some cried out in despair, some stood frozen—the disorganized skeletal masks were nothing more than a rabble.
It was a brutal massacre!
Arthas protected Illya, watching the breathtaking scene.
Was this the power of a Servant? Before such a terrifying Noble Phantasm, individual power seemed laughably insignificant.
Arthas, who had been confident of victory, now felt doubt.
Facing such overwhelming power, what could he do?
Flandre seemed to sense Arthas's thoughts; she turned, giving him a faint smile.
"Master, you're being too clever; the Grail War is a battle between Master and Servant; excluding me is unacceptable."
"Ah… you're right. No matter how strong the Servant, defeating them is all that matters."
"Yes, Flandre will bring victory to Master, with the glory of Scarlet!"
Wherever "Army of the King" passed, no trace of the Assassins remained, only the faint scent of blood and swirling dust.
"Woohoo!!"
Cries of victory rang out. Offering victory to their King, praising his name, the Heroic Spirits returned to spirit form and vanished.
The Bounded Field, sustained by their combined magical energy, dissolved; everything shattered like bubbles; the scene returned to the Einzbern castle courtyard.
The bright moonlight cast a silent glow; the air was clean.
The three Servants returned to their places, raising their goblets again. The Assassins were gone, only the remnants of the broken ladle handle remained as evidence.
"What a disappointment."
Rider muttered nonchalantly, finishing his wine. Saber remained silent; Archer scoffed with displeasure.
"Indeed, no matter how weak the mongrels, so many at once tires even a King. Rider, you're such a nuisance."
"Let's settle this later."
Rider stood up, unfazed.
"We've said what we needed to say; let's end this tonight. We'll be enemies to the death, Saber. I don't know how long you'll cling to this wrong path, but while your dedication is admirable, I don't acknowledge you as a true King!"
Before Saber could reply, thunder roared.
Rider glanced meaningfully at Saber, drawing Alexander's sword and slashing through the air. With a flash of lightning, a Divine Bull Cart appeared with a roar. It lacked the scale of "Army of the King," but it was still impressive.
"Archer, I want to fight you, but first, I need to regain my lost face from a certain young lady. Almost getting my eyebrows singed—that's a disgrace."
Rider laughed, roughly throwing his Master onto the war chariot, then pulling hard on the reins. The chariot, sparking with electricity, soared into the sky. Only the sound of thunder remained as it vanished to the east.
"Well, I hope you don't die by the hands of that 'young lady'; it would be far less entertaining."
Archer scoffed, dissolving into golden dust.
The once lively Einzbern castle courtyard was once again silent; only Saber remained.
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