Roaring flames clashed and collided, dyeing half the sky red; even the clouds overhead were driven away by the surging heat of magic.
At this moment, Bagast and Gawain were evenly matched — both were fighters who excelled at direct confrontation and raw power. Their head-to-head clash allowed each to unleash their full strength, opening into a fierce collision of force.
Under the impact of their tremendous magical force, the ground beneath them began to crack. In one violent exchange of greatswords, the ground completely gave way, and both fell, plunging down toward a lower floating isle.
—But even that didn't stop them from continuing to throw everything they had at one another.
"They're really going at it," said someone who had already left that floating isle far behind and was preparing to ascend the central Tower of the Holy City. Lancelot and his group could still hear the thunder of greatswords.
Pulling his gaze back, Lancelot casually cut down a couple of Purification Knights guarding their way, then said: "But I wonder where the rest of our allied forces are. If we only rely on me, challenging the King is still far beyond our reach."
"You're the strongest of the Round Table, aren't you, father? Shouldn't you be stronger than even Artoria?" said Mash, casually calling him "father," which made Lancelot clutch his chest as if overcome by pleasure.
"Well—" Lancelot replied, trying to compose himself. "If we talk strictly about martial skill, yes, I'm unrivaled — perhaps even the Artoria of old couldn't have beaten me. But things aren't the same as they used to be. When I was summoned this time, I distinctly felt the King changed. How to put it…?"
He rubbed his chin and chose his words: "That Artoria we once served was nearly perfect and inhuman, but this so-called Lion King… she's even further from ordinary humanity now. Maybe she no longer counts as human; she's more like an exalted being. To some she may look like the ideal sovereign, but as for me, just speaking to her is pressuring enough."
"Not only in temperament," Lancelot continued. "Her power has increased drastically. Back then it relied on Excalibur and the scabbard; now, the blessings she grants and her ability to summon the Tower of the End — these far surpass what I imagined. She is like a god."
"That's why I felt she's no longer the mild Artoria we once served, and I must act to try to restore her to what she was."
"—Is that your reason for betrayal, traitor Lancelot!" an angry voice rang out, and a black lance slashed through the air toward Lancelot's throat.
The attack came suddenly, but the assailant wasn't particularly fast. Lancelot reacted quickly, cutting the spear in two with his greatsword. The attacker then raised another blade and swung down.
Lancelot parried the enraged downward blow, and when he saw the attacker's face, he was surprised: "Agravain? Why are you here? Weren't you supposed to—"
"—be over there facing the Fairy Kingdom's fey knight Lancelot, unaware and waiting for you to attempt to stab the King?" Agravain's voice ground out through his teeth. He stared at Lancelot with such hatred that even Lancelot felt uneasy and avoided meeting his eyes. He forced the stance, then called back to Mash and Gawain behind him: "You two, go. Find your comrades and regroup. He came for me; I'll handle him."
Hearing that, Mash and Gawain exchanged looks and then turned to Lancelot: "Can you handle him now, Sir Lancelot? Agravain looks really dangerous."
"I'll manage," Lancelot said, absently patting Mash's head. "I am the strongest of the Round Table, after all."
Satisfied, Mash hurried off with Gawain, leaving Lancelot to face Agravain.
"You see—betrayal is a stain that never washes away. Once a traitor, always a traitor. You repay the King's trust with this?" Agravain roared.
"Why, Lancelot, why?! Why must you betray the King again? You did it last time and you do it again at the crucial moment! Why stab the Round Table and the King in the back when it matters most?" Agravain's voice was a raw howl.
Lancelot opened his mouth but found no words to answer. Agravain lunged, pouring his fury into his blows.
Meanwhile, Loth King Guilnevil's Third Squad finally reached the Tower of the End and climbed its long stairways to the royal chamber at the summit. There the immaculate sovereign sat on her throne.
"Who are you?" a cold, dignified voice asked from the throne. The Hall was otherwise empty; the Lion King sat serenely.
"We are those who have met you, Art— though, I suppose I shouldn't claim to match the memory of who you were," said Guilnevil, who at this time was under the influence of Lot, stepping forward with a shrug.
"You are Lot…?" the Lion King glanced at him with a faintly puzzled look. "I don't recall you… but everyone seems to expect I should know you. Have we met?"
Lot fell silent for a few seconds, then shook his head. "—Who knows? I'm not the Lot from your world's history. If you think we haven't met, then let it be so."
"Very well," the Lion King said, accepting the answer without pursuing it. Her gaze shifted to the others behind Lot. She paused for a second on Mordred and then turned to Artoria.
"Oh? You are the other version of me from the Fairy Kingdom?" she asked.
Her attention on Artoria caused a tremor through Mordred.
Mordred had been dreading this meeting — standing before the father she had once served and fighting. She knew this King wasn't quite right, and the Fairy Kingdom's sovereign felt more like the Artoria she had once idealized. Facing this King and answering for her betrayal would be difficult emotionally.
To her astonishment, the Lion King ignored her, seemingly either uninterested or deliberately treating her as if she didn't exist — a blow that stung.
Guilnevil noticed Mordred's pained reaction and suddenly took her hand.
Mordred blinked and looked at him, surprised. "You said earlier, didn't you? That now you're my Master."
Guilnevil looked at her seriously. "You are my Servant, my proud knight, and also a child acknowledged by the seer Artoria. We won't discard you, nor treat you as only a weapon, nor view you as an ill omen. Stand with us now, hold your head high— crying like a defeated dog in front of our enemy won't suit a knight."
"…Tch," Mordred muttered, brushing her eyes. She stepped back and took position behind Artoria alongside Guilnevil. "I won't disappoint you… father, nor my Master."
Elsewhere, as Guilnevil was giving Mordred the psychological nudge Morgana and Artoria had missed, a conversation unfolded between Artoria and the Lion King.
"If you are another me, you should understand why I do what I do," the Lion King said, rising from her throne. "Humanity's Order has been burnt away; only here remains salvation."
"Salvation?" Fujimaru retorted, outraged. "You call these atrocities salvation?"
The Lion King regarded him with a sidelong glance, then shook her head. "I see. I had been curious what the savior who could reach me would be like. But you, too, are someone who cannot be selected."
She continued bluntly: "Your soul knows good but lets evil be done. You are labeled 'good' but you enable wrong. That makes you equivalent to evil; thus I regret to say there is no place for you in the ideal city I create."
After delivering that judgment, she shifted her focus to Artoria. "As for you, the other me: you should understand. Everything I do is for the survival of humanity. I love mankind and therefore collect the most righteous souls, preserving them within my spear for eternity…."
"Perhaps I could understand," Artoria interrupted, "but I will never accept it."
Artoria cut the Lion King off, refusing to listen to her long monologue. "You are acting like an exalted, omniscient being who never asks if people want this future. You arrogantly decide their fate for them, then dress it up with grand rhetoric about great causes."
The Lion King paused and lifted her gaze to Artoria, anticipating a rejoinder.
"So, sorry, but I— a lower-born fairy who grew up in the countryside — hate people like you who presume to know better than the folk below!" Artoria exclaimed. She slapped the Seicheng transformation device at her waist.
"You aren't the Artoria of the other timeline. You're the goddess Rendominia or whatever — a deity who has no right to dictate humanity's fate."
"I will force you to return the power to decide humanity's future back to them," Artoria shouted.
"Is the negotiation broken? Fine. I never expected this to end peacefully," the Lion King replied lightly. She raised a pure white holy spear.
"Then let's see whose hands prove the worth," the Lion King said.
Artoria answered: "We go!"
"OK!" the others echoed.
At Artoria's command, Mordred charged forward first, leading the human force against the goddess-king. Her gaze was unyielding.