"Grim?!"
Seeing Grim suddenly fall, gravely wounded, everyone present was taken aback. Guinevere instinctively reached out to support him, but Grim quickly avoided her:
"Don't come over. The curse on me right now is extremely dense—it'll affect you."
Clutching his bleeding left eye, Grim continued shouting:
"Enough! Cernunnos won't be able to summon that many Hands of Calamity again anytime soon. For now, you can attack his main body directly. Take this chance and keep pressing the attack—absolutely don't drag this out! If his grudge gathers enough to unleash that move again, I won't be able to block it a second time!"
"But how do we even hit this thing?"
Artoria quickly commanded her duplicates to unleash another wave of Excalibur, but the effect was still the same—piercing only Cernunnos' outer flesh, blowing away a chunk of rotting meat beneath his skin. Yet in the blink of an eye, that rotting flesh regrew rapidly, sealing up the breach she had just carved.
Seeing this, Artoria couldn't help but be dumbfounded:
"Our earlier combined barrage was already close to our full strength, but all we managed was shaving off some of his outer body… it feels like we didn't deal any effective damage at all?"
"It really isn't effective." Noknare bit her lip, frowning in thought. "What we destroyed just now was mostly the curse-amplified rotten flesh. As long as that massive cavity keeps spewing curses outward, he'll just keep regenerating… what a headache. Doesn't this guy have some kind of core?"
"He does… he has a divine core. From my exchange with him just now, I'm certain of it."
Grim, who had hastily bandaged his ruined left eye, his condition visibly deteriorating, spoke again.
"Divine core? What's that?" Noknare asked reflexively.
"…Simply put, a divine core is the vessel that houses a god's soul. If we can destroy that, Cernunnos should stop moving." Grim took a breath and explained.
"Huh? Soul? But didn't Cernunnos' soul already die long ago?" Artoria said in surprise. "I remember when I went to the Inner Sea of the Stars, Merlin told me Cernunnos was truly slain by the six original fairies, body and soul both."
The story of Cernunnos and the origins of the Fairy Kingdom was something Artoria had already fully learned in that simulation as a wielder of the holy sword.
"Hm? Strange, haven't you not yet completed your mission? When did you go to the Inner Sea of the Stars?" Grim asked in surprise.
"Ah…" Artoria opened her mouth, suddenly unsure how to explain.
"Forget it, now's not the time to argue this." Grim frowned and dropped the subject, quickly continuing: "I can feel it—Cernunnos' current state is abnormal. Very abnormal…"
Or rather, more than just abnormal. As Odin's agent, Grim had already been briefed beforehand that by helping the Child of Prophecy, he would ultimately have to face Cernunnos. But the Cernunnos before him now was far too unusual.
Though dead long ago, this Cernunnos was far stronger than when alive. That much Grim could somewhat understand. But during their clash, Grim had clearly sensed that Cernunnos' aura was wrong—mixed with something foreign.
At first Grim suspected Cernunnos had received some powerful living sacrifice, one utterly despairing and cursing the Fairy Kingdom, fueling his wrath enough to awaken him again. But the truth was the opposite.
Grim could feel it—Cernunnos' divinity was empty. He had received no sacrifice. Yet he still revived, his strength wholly undiminished. Moreover, Grim could sense another divine power within him—something not belonging to Cernunnos. It was this power that resurrected him and set him on vengeance against the Fairy Kingdom.
Who? Which god meddled in this battle? Who was pulling the strings behind the scenes?
And to control even a dead god… such a being would have to be at least on the level of a chief god, with a divine authority over death.
…Mictlantecuhtli? Hel? Hades?
No, impossible. Hades and Mictlantecuhtli were bound to different Lostbelts. As for Hel, Grim would never have failed to recognize her work. More importantly, from Odin's knowledge granted to him, this "God of Death" who moved Cernunnos didn't match any known pantheon. Its power was fundamentally different. This must belong to a god even Odin, the God of Wisdom, did not know.
Could it be… from beyond the earth?
After much fruitless thought, Grim abandoned the question. This was no time to dwell on it—what mattered was how to defeat Cernunnos. That much he was certain of.
To avoid spreading unease, Grim merely shook his head and changed his words:
"In any case, all we need to do is locate his divine core, then smash it with a powerful Noble Phantasm. That's our win condition."
"Easier said than done. With a body that huge, how are we supposed to find where his divine core is hidden?" Artoria asked, dumbfounded.
"That's up to you to figure out." Grim shrugged. "At best, I'm just the helper to the Child of Prophecy. If you expect me to slay the god myself, that's pushing it."
"Then this is troublesome…" Guinevere frowned. "At Cernunnos' rate of regeneration, even piercing through his outer flesh to hit anything inside is already hard enough. If we don't even know the approximate location, blind bombardment will just wipe us out before we ever reach his core… Is anyone able to sense inside his body?"
"Impossible. His body is entirely composed of concentrated curses. Any detection magic won't penetrate, and would likely be counter-cursed instead." Noknare said gravely.
"…I see." Guinevere's brow furrowed deeper. "If our firepower were greater, maybe we could clear away large chunks of his flesh at once, forcing his divine core into view?"
"And where would we find such firepower?" Noknare asked.
"Isn't that your specialty?" Grim cast a look at Artoria. "What Noble Phantasm could be more famous than Excalibur? Not to mention, you can project a whole swarm of yourself all firing it at once. Honestly, what kind of magecraft is that?"
"It doesn't work like that…" Seeing everyone's eyes on her, Artoria grimaced.
"The other me's Noble Phantasms are all constrained. They're not the original Sword of Promised Victory. And their releases all draw on my supply. If I boost one's output, another must be lowered. The actual limit isn't very high—at most around the same level as my own sword from Proper Human History. That's why during the fight, I kept the others in melee instead…"
"You really do always choke at the crucial moment…" Noknare glared at her, both frustrated and disappointed.
"Hey! That's not what you said when I saved your life earlier!"
"…Let me cut in." Just as the two were about to bicker again, Bagst suddenly spoke up from her silence. "Artoria, that pocket watch you showed us before—can you let me use it?"
"Huh?" Artoria blinked, puzzled, looking at Bagst.
"But Bagst, you don't have my kind of skill—where you transform only for a short time and need to extend it. What would you even use the pocket watch for?"
"I don't have your kind of ability, true. But…"
Bagst paused briefly, as if making up her mind. Then she said:
"What we need right now is to find that beast's core, right?"
"In my memories, when I was Calamity-born, my perception was incredibly sharp. And though Fairy Knight Gawain fears curses, I, as Beast of Calamity Bagst, do not. That version of me can almost ignore curses entirely."
Her voice remained calm as she spoke:
"In that case, let me do it. Let the Calamity-version of me take point, rip his body apart, and find his divine core."
The moment she said this, silence fell around them. Everyone turned to her, shocked at her resolve.
"Bagst, are you serious?" Noknare frowned deeply.
Seeing their stunned, worried faces, Bagst added:
"Don't worry. I'll wait until I get as close as possible to him before invoking my Calamity form. I know what I become then—I only attack enemies in front of me, and always strike at the most threatening presence within range. The greater the presence, the more I'm drawn to it. I won't turn on you."
"That's not what we're worried about." Artoria shook her head. "Going Calamity isn't a joke. That pocket watch may restore your body, but it can't rewind the mental toll. After reverting, there's no telling if you'll stay yourself or relapse into Calamity. You don't have to gamble like this."
But Bagst's reply was calm, almost cheerful:
"If I revert and still relapse into Calamity, that's not a bad thing either. It means I can strike another blow against this great disaster. And you all are more than capable of handling me if that happens. So there's nothing to fear."
"Bagst!" Artoria bit her lip, this time calling her full name. "You know that's not what we're worried about."
"…Yes. And that's exactly why I must do this."
Bagst spoke slowly:
"Even now, when you all still worry about me… that's precisely why you're the ones I most want to protect. This time, I won't let anyone harm those I wish to protect."