"Do you have some kind of chronic condition that causes you to mess up at the most critical moments?" Bawanxi snapped, glaring at a thoroughly drenched-in-sweat Artoria.
"This—this—this really isn't my fault!" Artoria flushed red and argued back,
"I've only struck the bell twice so far! The Mors tide is so overwhelming—if I don't go all out, we can't even hold the front lines… But when I do go all out, I run out of mana!"
"Then what are we supposed to do now?"
Noknare felt her headache doubling. Artoria had suddenly faltered, and now, how were they supposed to resist the impending calamity?
Sure, they had brought a large army, and her own troops vastly outmatched the Round Table forces in combat power. But when it came to resisting the Mors tide, they were perhaps even weaker. The Round Table had many human knights capable of directly engaging the Mors, whereas her side could only rely on the giant units for partial resistance. Regular soldiers, if even grazed by the Mors, would instantly become Morsified—turning into enemies on the spot. That kind of psychological blow to morale was devastating.
Although all her troops were equipped with Voidlance rifles, their effectiveness against the Mors was far from satisfactory. The Mors had bodies akin to gelatinous matter; bullets did something, but not nearly enough.
Right now, even with all their combined strength—including the Round Table's—their effectiveness might not even compare to what Artoria could do alone in her Sovereign Form. And now that Artoria was down, even fending off the remaining Mors tide was barely manageable. As for the even more terrifying Calamity looming in the distance—how could they hope to face that?
That towering, sky-piercing shadow looked like the very embodiment of death, radiating a horrific aura of curse that blanketed the entire sky in oppressive gray and black hues.
In that moment, her instincts turned to Guinevere again, subconsciously hoping he would come up with a solution.
She wasn't the only one. Artoria, Bawanxi—they all looked to Guinevere, their eyes pleading, clearly hoping he'd figure something out.
Feeling everyone's eyes on him, Guinevere gently shook his head and let out a soft smile.
Looks like, no matter how much everyone had grown, in moments of true crisis, they still instinctively looked to him. He hadn't even done much in this simulation yet—he was just tagging along. Yet, as long as he was there, he was still their emotional anchor.
—But they weren't wrong to place their trust in him.
And he had never once let down those who believed in him.
"There's no need to panic—we're far from finished yet."
As he gazed upon the approaching tide of Mors, and the towering Calamity in the back, Guinevere spoke calmly.
"Guinevere? Then tell us—what should we do?" Noknare asked instinctively.
There was no trace of doubt in her voice. She simply wanted to hear a reassuring answer.
"Heh..." Guinevere chuckled softly. "I'll just become a demon."
After all this time spent hiding in the back, it was about time he showed off a little.
He unsheathed the Knight Sword of Karya with a swift motion, took a single step forward—and leapt off the city wall. At the same time, he tightened the strap across his chest with his other hand.
Perhaps it was because Artoria had been so ceremonial about shouting before each Sovereign transformation, but Guinevere also cried out:
"Henshin!"
In the next instant, overwhelming magic power surged. Guinevere's form changed mid-air—layers of metal enveloped his face, blades pierced from his body, and the magical aura around him turned dangerously volatile.
Though he hadn't been purposefully saving up, after all these days in the simulation, he had built up enough "Chainsawman energy" to finally transform.
But this time, the signature blades did not extend from his palms.
Because he still needed to wield his sword.
In his current anonymous state, the Chainsawman form didn't grant him overwhelming strength. Its greatest boon was rapid regeneration.
So, when facing the endless Mors tide and the sky-blotting Calamity, his path forward was obvious.
After all, no matter when or where—he always used the same move to face the Calamity.
Suddenly, Guinevere charged forward, running headlong into the encroaching darkness.
"Demon into the abyss, sword of salvation unsheathed."
As his blade left the scabbard, an infinite blaze surged across the battlefield. The dazzling flames ignited the entire land, banishing the darkness of night.
Guinevere strode forward into the sea of Mors. Blistering flames surged in front of him, reducing all approaching Mors into ash.
At the same time, the Calamity's form began to shift—just as Guinevere had seen before. The towering shadow dispersed once more. The horns, the straw raincoat—everything melted into a sea of cursed hands, reaching out toward him.
The endless swarm of cursed hands threatened to drag the world into the abyss.
But in the next instant, a fiery tempest exploded upward, splitting the sky itself. Crimson streaks slashed through the night, followed by a massive explosion that engulfed the cursed hands.
Guinevere stepped forward, gripping his longsword in both hands.
"To protect the ones I love, I'll now unleash a truly badass attack."
"Heavenfire—unsheathed!"
At that moment, endless fire gathered around his knight's sword, extending the blade far beyond its tip into a flaming edge that looked like it could cut through the heavens.
Then, the blade of the heavens fell.
A blinding storm of light and heat devoured everyone's vision.
The ground trembled. The sky wailed. Infernos surged like rampaging dragons, swallowing everything.
In that instant, the world became black and white. Anything caught within the blaze was instantly vaporized. Even the spectators were temporarily blinded, the intense light overwhelming their vision.
When their sight returned—accompanied by the fading ringing in their ears—they saw a completely changed world.
The Mors that had once flooded the hills were gone without a trace. The land was shattered, rivers rerouted, and an entire layer of Londinium had been scraped away.
In the distance, even the massive Calamity seemed shaken and on the verge of collapse.
"…Still not dead? What a pain…"
Guinevere frowned at the remaining cursed hands still crawling toward him.
The first time he used Heavenfire in Norwich, both the attack and his own stats were far weaker than they were now. This Heavenfire should've been much stronger. But the Calamity this time, having absorbed all of Norwich, was many times stronger than before.
If a single Heavenfire couldn't finish it… things might get complicated.
Guinevere suddenly winced. He had no blood source nearby to recharge and unleash another Heavenfire.
He wasn't sure how the cursed hands made sound, but he heard a mournful cry—then the remaining cursed hands surged toward him like collapsing mountains.
Still, Guinevere wasn't fazed.
Because he was never fighting alone.
His mission had only been to create a path with his NB-level move. The rest—he could leave to his allies.
Before the cursed hands could reach him, hurricane winds and surging waves erupted from either side, halting the curse's advance. Empowered by Noknare's wind enchantment, Bawanxi and Bagster sped forward, flanking him and taking the front line.
Guinevere had wondered where those dense, leaden winds had come from, but then he noticed the weapon in Bagster's hand.
"Isn't that the Storm Ruler once wielded by the Onion Knight?" Guinevere asked knowingly.
"Eh?" Bagster blinked. "So this is the same sword the Onion Knight used against Yhorm the Giant?"
She had suspected it based on the description, but only now did she fully confirm it with Guinevere's recognition.
"Yes…" Guinevere nodded. "And now that we're facing something like the Calamity, I'd say the Storm Ruler can unleash its full potential. I can rest easy now."
The Calamity had already taken a direct hit from Heavenfire. With Bagster wielding the Storm Ruler, the battle was as good as over.
[After obliterating the Mors tide with a single Heavenfire Judgement and severely weakening the Calamity, you quickly withdrew and entrusted the battlefield to your allies.]
[As expected, your companions did not disappoint. With Bagster and the Storm Ruler at the forefront, they engaged in a fierce struggle and ultimately defeated the Calamity.]
"Everyone! The Calamity from Norwich has been vanquished! This battle is our victory!"
As the cursed aura dissipated, Percival's voice rang across all of Londinium.
"Let us cheer for the Child of Prophecy and her allies—our saviors!"
Cheers from the people of Londinium soon echoed across the battlefield.
But their celebration didn't last long.
Someone with sharp eyes suddenly cried out,
"Look! Over there—someone else is coming!"
"That flag… it's Woodworth from Oxford!"
"Woodworth is attacking!"
[Before you had time to enjoy your victory, the opportunistic Woodworth—who had been watching from afar—marched his army onto the battlefield.]
"Allow me to applaud your bravery," Woodworth shouted from the head of his army,
"To defeat such a massive Calamity—you're truly impressive. No wonder you've bested me so many times."
"But after that exhausting battle… how much strength do you have left?"
He laughed loudly:
"Child of Prophecy, and your lackeys—don't blame me for being underhanded. This is war—everything goes."
"As a reward for ridding us of the Calamity, I'll make your deaths quick! Hahahaha—"
But before he could finish his laughter, a sharp whistling noise pierced the air. He looked up to see a brilliant blue meteor streaking overhead—landing directly between the two armies.
The figure who arrived was none other than—
Fairy Knight Lancelot.