"What did you sacrifice, Arthas? The Grail War is between Servants; you shouldn't have gone to these lengths."
Rider's brow furrowed at Arthas's words, a bad feeling washing over him. Arthas simply shook his head.
"I haven't sacrificed anything; I've merely reclaimed something."
"Very well. Whatever changes have occurred, whatever decisions you've made, are your concern. As your opponent, I only need to consider how to defeat you!"
A grin spread across Rider's face. He urged his chariot forward, roaring at Arthas.
"Tear apart those who stand before me; distant conquest and domination!"
A deafening roar of thunder echoed before Arthas. Purple lightning crackled from the Divine Bull's hooves; the turning wheels also thundered, illuminating Einzbern Castle in the night.
The chariot, with Rider, charged towards Arthas, showing no mercy; Rider intended to tear his opponent to pieces.
The cold continued to spread. As Arthas and Rider spoke, a thin layer of frost had already enveloped them. The moment Rider attacked, the white mist finally moved.
Frost spread through the air at a visible speed, following the chariot wheels, engulfing the lightning unleashed by the Noble Phantasm, 'God-speed Wheels'.
While water is an excellent conductor of lightning, in this near-absolute zero frost, nothing could maintain its original form, not even the lightning from a Noble Phantasm.
Einzbern Castle, already covered in snow, became a city of ice and snow. Waver, watching from a distance, huddled miserably, using his modest magical power to resist the cold.
Fortunately, Arthas was focusing his magical energy on Rider, but even the residual effects were unbearable.
No purple lightning remained on the charging chariot and God-speed Wheels; it was completely consumed by the white frost. The frosty color covered Rider's Noble Phantasm, then his body, continuing to spread.
Rider's speed slowed; the bull pulling the God-speed Wheels breathed more and more heavily. Its white breath froze into ice shards upon contact with the air, falling to the ground.
Finally, only the sound of cracking ice accompanied Rider's advance, the chariot struggling until it stopped before Arthas.
The entire God-speed Wheels was frozen; Rider's sword was raised high but didn't fall. Frost coated his eyebrows and beard; he stood frozen on the chariot.
"Rider?!"
Waver cried out, thinking his Servant had been defeated. But Rider wouldn't lose so easily.
He hadn't used his strongest Noble Phantasm, King's Army; this was merely a test.
A test to see if Arthas was worthy of facing his King's Army!
"I… underestimated you."
Rider said, his frozen lips curving into a grim smile. As he moved, the ice on his body shattered.
"In honor of your strength, I'll grant you a hero's death!"
His sword sliced through the frosty mist. As Rider spoke, immense magical energy erupted from him.
Unusual magical energy gathered in the courtyard, warping reality, creating Rider's own world.
A Bounded Field—a grand sorcery that manipulates the real world through sheer power—a miracle of magic.
With the Bounded Field's formation, the already frigid courtyard suddenly warmed, replaced by a scorching desert.
The scene reappeared before Arthas, as if a mirage, countless soldiers appearing around Rider.
Though their races and equipment differed, their strong bodies and fierce demeanor demonstrated the army's might.
"Soldiers, before you stands one I acknowledge, one worthy of respect, one worthy to face my invincible army!"
Rider shouted from his warhorse; the Heroic Spirits responded with a clang of shields.
"Though the opponent is one, show no mercy. That would be disrespectful."
"A hero should die gloriously on the battlefield! Let us offer my friend, this hero, the most dazzling and spectacular performance!"
"Indeed! Indeed! Indeed!"
The Heroic Spirits' resounding cries pierced the sky. Whether the enemy was an insurmountable fortress, an equally elite army, or a lone individual, it made no difference.
Under Rider's command, they would conquer all before them; everything would be as clouds before them.
"Let's begin…"
Rider said, a bloodthirsty smile on his face. Even as a Heroic Spirit, the ferocity of his past conquests remained.
"I don't know what beliefs you hold, what you sacrificed for this power, but I know this: my army will crush it all!"
"Is that so?"
Arthas laughed softly, his smile chilling.
His ice-blue eyes held an unreal, ethereal beauty. Arthas sighed softly and closed his eyes.
Army… battle… battlefield…
So familiar… why this unbearable sorrow? He wanted to cry, but no tears came.
Yes… because I don't cry. The Forgotten do not weep.
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