The one-sided slaughter coming from the rear naturally soon drew the attention of several Servants.
"Melusine!" Bargast turned her head and roared. "Come with me and block their charge! Artoria, Bavanzi, protect Nocknarel—don't let that archer take her out!"
"Understood!"
Hearing this, Melusine—who had still been on the walls, cutting through the enemy archers like slicing melons—snapped her head around. With a quick reply, she leapt down from the battlements in a flash, turning into a streak of light as she flew straight toward Lancelot, the leader of the charging cavalry. Her twin swords slashed down in a cross, colliding with the greatsword Lancelot hastily raised, ringing with a sharp metallic cry.
"It's you! I've been waiting for this moment!"
Recognizing her at once, Lancelot's eyes widened. With a surge of strength, he forced Melusine back, fire blazing in his gaze.
"Vice-captain! Lead the charge forward! I'll take care of this one myself!"
"Hm?"
Melusine didn't understand why Lancelot had suddenly grown so agitated, but she had no time to dwell on it. As the cavalry's vice-captain quickly took over command and led the charge onward, Lancelot swung his blade, Arondight, down at her forehead with lightning speed.
She didn't know what was going on, but faced with that thunderous strike, Melusine instinctively raised both her swords. With a flash of crossed light, she once more unleashed her chaotic twin-sword dance.
—As always, she stuck to her style: if this move worked, then she would keep using it.
But this time, when her blades clashed with Arondight, they didn't phase through it as before. Instead, they collided solidly.
Before she could react, her twin swords were knocked aside. Arondight didn't slow—its arc crashed down onto her face, hurling her flying.
"Hmph. Did you really think the same trick would work on me twice?" Lancelot pointed Arondight at the fallen Melusine and said coldly. "After our last battle, I immediately sought the Lion King and requested her blessing of 'Unerring Strike.' Your petty tricks are useless against me now. What's more, after taking that blow, you won't even have the chance to try them again—"
He broke off mid-sentence.
To his shock, Melusine was already climbing back up, clutching her face. She looked disheveled, but the spot where his blade had struck bore only a shallow cut.
Lancelot's eyes went wide.
What?
His last strike had indeed been weakened by her twin blades, but that was Arondight—the holy sword! Even without his full strength behind it, it should have been enough to cleave stone and steel. Yet all it had done was scratch her skin?
He wasn't even hoping for a fatal wound, but at the very least it should've broken bone. Instead, it hadn't even bruised her.
What kind of humanoid tyrannosaurus titan was this?
—Wait. Thinking back, during their first encounter, she had introduced herself as some kind of "Dragon Faerie." Lancelot had assumed that was just a title, or that she carried a hint of draconic blood. He'd never thought she was actually dragon-level durable.
A pang of frustration shot through him.
Even with the Lion King's blessing, which let him wound her, the effect wasn't decisive. Looking back, during their last clash, when the Lion King had already injured her and he had followed up by unleashing Arondight's full might, all it had done was wound her—not kill her. He should have realized something was wrong then.
"Damn, what a thick skull..."
Grinding his teeth, Lancelot raised Arondight again, ready to continue their death match.
And then he heard her snarl back at him:
"You mean to tell me you just ask for a blessing and suddenly my Twin-Sword Dance doesn't work anymore? That's... that's cheating!"
Lancelot: "...?"
He couldn't deny it—the faerie knight Melusine had a shamelessness that was truly infuriating. Surely he wasn't as unbearable as she was?
With that thought, Lancelot stepped forward once more, sword swinging down.
.....................................
While Lancelot and Melusine clashed again, elsewhere the cavalry—like a meat grinder pushing forward across the battlefield—ran into another massive obstacle.
"I see. First lure us in deep, then use the terrain to drive the cavalry into a single crushing charge. The battlefields of Proper Human History really are more complicated..."
While the mountain folk still fled in panic toward the gates, Bargast rushed against the flow straight toward the oncoming cavalry.
"But me? I still prefer this kind of fight!"
With that cry, she hurled out a mass of chains. They shot forward, wrapping around the charging mounts—around legs, around necks—catching them all without exception.
Then, with a stomp and a sharp pull, she dragged.
The dozens of heavily armed knights at the front, filling the passage before the gate, all lost balance. Overwhelming force wrenched them to the ground. They crashed in a heap, and the following ranks, unable to stop, trampled over their fallen comrades. In the storm of hooves, the knights turned into bloody pulp and swiftly dissipated into motes of spirit energy.
Immediately, Bargast did it again, hurling more chains and toppling the next wave into the same grisly fate beneath their comrades' hooves.
At last, when the third line charged, she recalled her chains and instead raised her massive sword.
"Thus, your charge ends here!"
With a thunderous roar, she dashed into the third squad head-on. Her greatsword swept across, bursting with magical power—instantly cutting down nearly half the knights, horses and all. Then she spun, body whirling like a windmill, unleashing her skill of "Judgment"—or, more bluntly, Garen's spinning strike—summoning a storm of blades that tore through the survivors, slicing them into mincemeat.
.......................................
"Looks like that tactic's been broken."
After another clash, Gawain and Guinevere separated again. He glanced across the battlefield and spoke.
Lancelot's earlier cavalry charge had been grand and intimidating, striking at the coalition's morale. But in practice, less than twenty percent of their forces had been lost, and that mostly from trampling their own. With Melusine and Bargast breaking the assault, the cavalry threat was neutralized.
Of course, for ordinary troops, a rout could be fatal. Panic spread like dominoes, shattering ranks and collapsing entire armies. But here, Nocknare was present. Once the knights' charge had been halted, she could use her contracts to forcibly stop the rout and rally the soldiers again. Losses would be contained.
"Indeed. Against overwhelming strength, numbers mean nothing."
Gawain muttered, his gaze sweeping the battlefield until it settled on Artoria, standing guard beside Nocknare.
"Is that... could she be the Queen of the Faerie Kingdom?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Guinevere replied coolly.
"She looks full of spirit and vigor. I've never seen a king like that... perhaps only Merlin and Kay have."
"Oh?" Guinevere raised an eyebrow. "What's this? Thinking of surrendering? If you did, since we have a King Arthur here too, it wouldn't even count as betrayal, would it?"
"Spare me the jokes, Father." Gawain shook his head. "She's not the Arthur I swore to serve. I won't surrender. Give it up. If you can't bring yourself to strike me down, let someone else fight me instead."
"..."
"For now, though, even if our plan hasn't gone smoothly, we've gauged the coalition's strength. Time to move on to Plan B. After all, the enemy has already been herded into this area before the gates."
Raising his sword, Galatine, flames erupted skyward.
"Tch. Planning to wipe them all out in one blast of a holy sword?" Guinevere lifted her own blade, the Knight's Sword of Caliburn. "Not while I'm here."
"I know," Gawain said calmly. "I told you, my task is only to stall you!"
Guinevere's brows furrowed. He realized too late what was coming, but had no time to react. Gawain charged, sword blazing with searing flames, forcing Guinevere to block.
At that same instant, a streak of crimson light shot overhead, followed by manic laughter.
"Now it's my turn to shine!"
Like a comet crashing down, the newcomer smashed into the tightly packed coalition ranks driven here by the earlier cavalry. Raising his sword, he roared:
"Come on! I'll tear this place apart until the very end!"
"Treasure, release! Rebellion Against My Glorious Father—Clarent Blood Arthur!!!"
Without giving anyone time to respond, Mordred the Rebel Knight had arrived—and unleashed his Noble Phantasm at once.
Scarlet lightning howled, like a dragon bursting from its cage, devouring the terrified soldiers. Though Nocknare's protective wards shielded them, mortal flesh could not withstand a Noble Phantasm's might.
In a single instant, thousands of coalition troops were vaporized. The casualties in that one strike surpassed all the knights' earlier charges combined.