There were only a handful of Servants who could go toe-to-toe with a Berserker and still hold their ground. The accursed, brutal power of a Berserker was more than enough to utterly obliterate anything in its path.
Had he simply been overwhelmed by Flandre's sheer strength, Rider might've felt better about it. But being beaten into the ground by powers he couldn't even comprehend—now that was what really frustrated him.
"So this… is vampire magic or something? Really can't make heads or tails of it."
Even with a near-fatal wound to his heart, Rider still managed to stagger upright. He looked at Flandre standing before him and forced a helpless smile.
"Let's just say it is. Not like I owe you any explanation."
Flandre raised both hands again as she spoke, preparing for another attack.
"Let me guess… A Noble Phantasm this powerful must have some kind of limit, right? Otherwise it'd be way too broken. I thought maybe stepping out of your line of sight might do the trick—but looks like that's not it."
Rider mused aloud, a surprisingly thoughtful and puzzled expression on the face of this usually straightforward man.
He had always come off as brash and uninhibited in battle, not the type to pause and strategize mid-fight. It was hard to imagine him analyzing anything during a fight, let alone seeking weaknesses.
"Huh, so you do have a few brain cells after all. Good for you. But… what exactly did you figure out? And even if you did, what can you actually do with that knowledge?"
Flandre sneered, slowly raising one palm as her eyes filled with scorn.
"Don't underestimate me. I am a king, after all. You think I'm just some idiot?"
Rider's expression turned grim again as Flandre gave him no time to react—her assault came without mercy.
"UURAHHH!!!"
This time, unlike all the previous times, Rider let out a beastlike roar of rage. A tremendous surge of magical energy exploded from his body.
Flandre hesitated slightly, momentarily pausing her movement.
But then… nothing happened.
"I see now… I've figured out your little trick."
Seeing the surprise on her face, Rider smirked proudly. Clutching his chest, he raised his gaze and stared directly at Flandre's outstretched hand.
"I kept wondering how your Noble Phantasm actually worked. No matter how you look at it, the idea of inflicting massive damage just by thinking about it is way too overpowered."
As he spoke, Rider grinned smugly at Flandre, whose expression had grown cold.
"Then I noticed your hand movements. You're not doing that for show or intimidation—it's because you have to. Without those gestures, you can't deal any damage. That's your trick, Berserker. I've figured it all out. It's not some mystical magic—it's just a way of seizing on your enemy's weaknesses and attacking them with precision."
"So what? You think you can resist me in your condition?"
Flandre scoffed. She was mildly surprised that Rider had unraveled her method, but ultimately didn't care in the slightest.
So what if he'd figured it out? That didn't mean he could counter it. He was still a walking target—an open wound waiting to be torn wider.
Even with its capabilities reduced, Flandre's Eyes of Destruction was still an overwhelmingly powerful Noble Phantasm in this world.
"Heh… If it's just a regular attack, then I'll tank it! You think I came to battle without expecting pain or bloodshed?!"
Rider shouted defiantly and charged again, weapon in hand—a suicidal, tragic sprint fueled by sheer willpower. Watching from behind, Waver could no longer hold back. He raised both hands and invoked the final Command Seal.
"By the Command Seal, I order you—Rider, defeat this enemy before you! Win! Seize the Holy Grail! Conquer the world!"
The last of the magical emblems on his hand flared, released its power, then vanished into the air with a gust of wind. As a magus, Waver would probably never again command magic of such magnitude in his lifetime. And yet—even knowing that—he felt utterly satisfied. No regrets. For someone who had lost everything, this was enough.
He looked down at his hands. The marks of their contract had completely vanished without a trace.
"Idiot… That many ridiculous wishes at once? Of course it's impossible to grant all of them."
Rider muttered, chastising his Master. But his voice trembled—not with pain, but joy—as he laughed, roared, and charged forward.
Tears of blood bloomed from his torn wounds like savage crimson flowers, blossoming one after another across his battered body. They relentlessly carved into his flesh without mercy, but compared to the thrill of this final charge, the pain was nothing.
He refused to fall here—not tonight.
Ahead lay the far shore of conquest. That long-sought end stood tall before him. The end of a journey that spanned mountains and rivers was now within arm's reach.
And so he would push forward.
He would step over that enemy.
One step. Then another. And another. If he could just repeat this process, again and again, then eventually… his sword would reach her—the unreachable girl before him.
At the very end, the pain that came was not from being crushed or torn—
—but from a sword piercing his heart.
A blazing blade, so hot it evaporated his blood in an instant. A flame-forged magical sword that radiated violent, destructive fury.
"What a shame… If I'd had enough mana to summon Ionioi Hetairoi again, maybe the outcome wouldn't have been like this."
Rider gave a self-mocking smile as he said this.
"Ah… You're right. That Noble Phantasm really is a tough one to deal with."
Flandre nodded gently.
"But it was one hell of a fight. Facing down two kings in one night… Hahaha…"
And even in the end, Rider never lost his arrogance. Laughing boldly—he slowly faded away.
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