Well sorry for the delay in the upload schedule.
my exams were running for the past two weeks after finishing i was too tired to write
so again sorry for the delay
now for something more important
I am going to start a new story, I currently have three ideas
I wanted you guys to vote which one you would like:
1- fate(type moon) x dxd ( recommended by me since I already have the general idea for the first few chapters set)
2- just fate( type moon)
3- multiverse one or maybe Re: zero x fate(type moon) (for this one expect a delay until I rewatch Re: zero)
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Then Archer laughed, low, smooth, and dangerous.
"Hah… to think a pretender in a mask would dare lecture me on vanity."
Golden portals shimmered brighter behind him, as though the night itself bent to his will.
"You speak of reflections as if you could fathom what you see. I am no Narcissus, fool, I am the king. The world exists to mirror me."
His crimson eyes narrowed, the humor never leaving his voice.
"Still… I'll grant you this. It's been ages since a jester's tongue amused me. Keep talking, and I may decide whether to mount your mask upon my wall or add your words to my treasury."
His gaze slid toward Rider. "Tell me, Conqueror, is this your pet? If so, leash him before I grow bored."
The golden light behind him pulsed, a hundred treasures eager to fly.
For a moment, Arthur was silent.
Then he laughed, not loudly, but softly, almost kindly.
"The world exists to reflect you, you say? How poetic."
He tilted his head, the Fool's smile catching the moonlight.
"But tell me, Archer… what is a king without people? What is a king without a kingdom? Merely a man. A relic. A forgotten artifact with no friends left to speak his name."
His tone remained calm, not rebellious, not mocking.Pitying.
"All that splendor, all that beauty… and still, you must declare it aloud. Tell me, archer, do you speak to remind others of your "greatness"… or yourself."
For a long moment, Archer would be silent. The grin would linger, too perfect, too composed, but the golden portals behind him would ripple, their hum deepening.
"Convince myself?"
His voice was soft, laced with dangerous amusement.
"You presume much, pretender. I require no affirmation from men or gods. My existence alone is proof of divinity."
He stepped forward, his presence pressing down like a divine decree.
"Yet insolence like yours cannot be ignored. Pretender, taste the wrath of this King."
Gilgamesh's smirk sharpened as the portals fired.
"Well… I suppose I expected this reaction," Arthur murmured, already moving, cane flickering through the air. "Quite the fragile ego you have."
A lance whistled past, he nudged its blade aside with the cane's hook.
A sword flew; he caught the hilt, spun, and hurled it into a third weapon.
With each block, each deflection, the number of portals multiplied.
Arthur's ghostlike form danced through the storm of treasures, each step an afterimage of shadow and pale light.
The final volley detonated, swallowing the street in a cloud of dust and gold.
As it cleared, the Masters and Servants saw something they did not expect.
The ghost's mask had been flung away, knocked away from his face by one of Archer's earlier attacks.
And beneath it
White hair.
Red eyes.
A face both young and old, bright and broken.
Half of it smiled with manic delight, eyes glimmering as though the world itself was a private joke.
The other half sagged with ancient exhaustion, its gaze hollow and heavy with years.
His face was a picture of insanity, an enigma of contradiction, joy and ruin fused into one.
" HA HA HA HA ! I see… i see now mongrel, so that is your true visage? I see it now. A mad dog wrapped in a jester's guise. You must be this war's Berserker one who clawed back a pitiful sliver of sanity. Hmph. How quaint." Archer said with his proud and flaunting tone as a smirk covered his face
He smirked, savoring the sight.
But his amusement lasted only a moment.
Before he could react, the masked knight's hand flicked forward with casual precision
One of Gilgamesh's own treasures had been hurled back at him.
Gilgamesh leapt away a heartbeat before the treasure-turned-projectile struck, the shockwave reducing his former perch to splinters.
But he had no time to regain his poise.
A pebble, if it could still be called that, spiraled towards him, wrapped in a twisting black-and-white aura, the surface eroding as if reality itself recoiled from it.
It struck his forehead.
A thin, gleaming thread of blood slid down the King of Heroes' face.
Gilgamesh's eyes widened.
Not in pain.
Not in fear.
In disbelief.
Arthur grinned back at him, the manic half of his face stretching too wide, cheekbones lifting, the eye above it shimmering with razor-bright mockery.
"Why don't you come down here, Archer?" he called lightly. "Planning to change your class to Rider? Though I must say… choosing a lamppost as your mount is certainly creative. Should I call you the King of Lampposts?"
For a moment, the world seemed to freeze around Gilgamesh.
Then
"you… You…"
His voice trembled, not with weakness, but with a fury so pure it bordered on divine wrath.
"YOU MONGREL."
His authority struck the air like a hammer.
"How DARE you! I belong among the heavens, not crawling upon the dirt with filth such as you! And YOU…YOU DARE to draw the blood of this KING!?"
The smirk vanished from his face, replaced by a twisted, venomous scowl.
"Even if you are… mildly amusing, your insolence has surpassed all tolerance. Your fate is sealed."
Behind him, the Gate of Babylon roared open,
not ten, not twenty, but nearly a hundred portals swirling with killing light, trembling with his unrestrained fury.
"Fall, jester," Gilgamesh spat.
"Fall and be erased."
..............................
Saber's pov
The new Servant's aura was… wrong.
Dangerous, yes, but not merely in the usual sense.
It pressed at her from every angle, a pressure that made the air feel heavier, tighter. Every instinct she possessed, knight, king, dragon, coiled in alarm.
And the moment she laid eyes on him, an impulse surged through her so violently she nearly released Excalibur on reflex.
She didn't understand it.
Or rather… she understood too well.
There was familiarity in him, like looking at something she once knew.
Yet at the same time, her entire being twisted into hostility so sharp her fingers trembled on her invisible blade.
She felt the source immediately.
Her dragon core.
The ancient, instinctive remnant of the dragon within her blood screamed in rejection.
So… he is a dragon slayer.
A powerful one.
But that wasn't what unsettled her.
'Why do I feel hostility instead of wariness? How high… how absolute must his dragon-slaying skill be for my body to react this violently?'
For the first time in many years, Saber felt a cold, strategic caution coil in her chest.
'This Servant is extremely dangerous. If we ever cross blades… I must be prepared for the worst.'
Her thoughts were interrupted by Rider speaking to his Master.
"Hey, kid, can you tell how powerful this Servant is?"
Rider's master's voice shook.
"I… I can't."
Rider frowned. "What do you mean? You're a Master, you can read strengths and weaknesses, can't you?"
"I can't tell," Waver repeated, almost whispering. "He's definitely a Servant, but I can't read anything. No stats… no class… nothing. It's like he isn't even there."
Saber's gaze snapped to Irisviel
Iri was pale. She shook her head silently.
'She can't read him either.'
The unease settled deeper.
The new Servant began speaking with Archer, and the atmosphere shifted instantly. A friction, thin, sharp, and lethal, bloomed between them. Even the others felt it; she could see it in their actions:
Rider subtly stepping in front of his Master,
Lancer inching towards the shadows where she presumed his master hid.
Saber moved back with Irisviel, placing herself protectively between her Master's wife and the two volatile Servants.
Then the fight began.
Archer's Gate roared open and treasures rained down.
The new Servant blocked them, graceful, almost spectral, until the storm grew harsher, the impacts cracking the air.
When Archer finally ceased firing, a cloud of dust swallowed the battlefield.
For a heartbeat, all was silent.
As the dust thinned, the figure emerged
Mask gone, face revealed.
And Saber felt the world halt.
Her breath caught.
Her heart stilled.
The familiarity she felt earlier surged violently, almost painfully, into certainty.
She stared at him, unable to speak, unable to think.
Because the face she saw was one she should never see here.
One that shouldn't exist on this battlefield.
One that made her dragon core scream…
And her human heart ache.