The four maddened Servants, despite their efforts to cling to their dwindling rationality, were powerless. As their Master, Jeanne Alter held near-absolute control over them.
Thus, the four charged forward, rushing toward Morpheus and his allies with terrifying speed.
Not only the Servants but also a massive swarm of wyverns surged forth, intent on tearing the group apart as per Jeanne Alter's command!
Jeanne gripped Durandal tightly, while Morpheus patted her shoulder. "Leave these guys to you. I'll take care of that dragon!"
Jeanne nodded slightly, and Atalanta, snapping to attention, asked, "Need any help?"
Morpheus grinned. "Nope. You don't know my strength yet?"
"Oh, right, how would I? You vanished out of nowhere back then," Atalanta pouted, then readied her bow. "Fine, I'll help them!"
"Got it. It's all yours... you're a hero from the Age of Gods, after all!"
Atalanta said nothing, but the proud expression on her face betrayed her delight.
Morpheus chuckled and stepped forward.
By now, Jeanne had charged into battle, while Mash fended off the wyverns' attacks.
Atalanta nocked an arrow, aiming at the wyverns swarming from above.
The four Servants tried to intercept Morpheus, but they faced a formidable foe... Jeanne, the Saint of France!
Blessed by angelic power and wielding a Durandal nearing the true blade of France, Jeanne's strength was terrifying!
In a single clash, Vlad III's weapon was shattered. His vampiric form attempted to dissolve into mist to mitigate damage, but Durandal's holy radiance completely countered him, preventing his transformation.
A single slash!
Vlad III's body was cleaved in two, a fatal wound that ended his existence instantly, making him the first Servant to fall. In that moment, his face showed relief, a faint smile forming as he dissolved into motes of light.
The remaining Servants, though Berserkers, instinctively shifted to surround Jeanne rather than split their forces, knowing they'd be picked off otherwise.
But even together, Jeanne handled them with ease. Her speed was supersonic, each movement a blur, her strikes even faster.
At such terrifying velocity, the Servants couldn't track her. Their attacks missed, unable to land a single blow.
The second Servant fell.
Carmilla, another vampiric Servant, was obliterated by the holy light, reduced to dust under its divine glow, returning to the Throne of Heroes without even a final expression.
The remaining two were no longer a challenge for Jeanne. With Durandal's power, she was confident she could dispatch them effortlessly.
Meanwhile, Morpheus reached Jeanne Alter unimpeded, facing her directly.
"First, I'll deal with your pet, then you. I'm in a hurry, so come down already."
Jeanne Alter's eyes narrowed, then she gritted her teeth. "Human, aren't you too arrogant?"
Morpheus shrugged. "Always been this way. Even gods couldn't handle me."
No words were needed. Jeanne Alter responded with action. The black dragon, Fafnir, roared, its draconic bloodline far surpassing the wyverns. Its bellow was deafening, flames in its throat burning like an eternal furnace.
Boom!
A torrent of fire erupted, an unending blaze intent on incinerating the earth.
But Morpheus stood fearless in the flames, raising his right hand.
Thud!
A red scepter appeared in his grip. Fire elemental power descended, and under his control, the dragon's flames swirled and condensed.
Fafnir intensified its onslaught, aiming to burn Morpheus to ash, but it was futile. The more fire it spewed, the more Morpheus controlled, compressing it into a small fireball.
When the dragon paused to catch its breath, Morpheus casually tossed the fireball.
Jeanne Alter's eyes widened, urging the dragon to evade, but it was too late. The tiny, ping-pong-ball-sized fireball reached Fafnir.
Boom!
Like a high-yield bomb, the explosion erupted beneath the dragon, hurling its massive body into the air!
The scorching heat seared its underbelly, overwhelming even its formidable fire resistance!
Fafnir let out an agonized wail. Jeanne Alter nearly fell, struggling to stay atop the beast.
She hesitated, considering retreating to summon more Servants for a counterattack.
But Morpheus gave her no chance.
The symbols of the four elements appeared: the red scepter, a blue chalice, a green astrolabe, and a yellow dagger.
"Angels stand before him, in the name of Y-H-V-H. Angels of earth, wind, water, and fire, descend to guard him!"
The archangels... Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel... legendary guardians closest to God!
Even as mere shadows, their power infinitesimally divided, their energy could devastate continents or even planets.
For Morpheus, with his growing adventures and deepening understanding of magic, the power he could wield had increased!
Jeanne Alter stared, stunned. As a devout believer, even consumed by malice, she recognized the four figures around Morpheus.
"Are you really Jeanne?" Morpheus asked.
Jeanne Alter met his gaze. Instead of fleeing, she asked, "What do you mean?"
"I just want to know... are you truly Jeanne, the one who led France's armies for Charles VII?"
"Of course I am!" Jeanne Alter snapped.
"Then tell me, do you remember your past? Your hometown, your childhood crush... your first love. Do you remember?"
Jeanne Alter's expression shifted. "What are you getting at?!"
"You forgot me?" Morpheus's face showed pain.
Jeanne, fighting the Servants, glanced at Morpheus in confusion.
When did I know him as a child?! He sounds so sincere, and that pained look…
If it were her, she'd have denied it outright!
But Jeanne Alter hesitated, opening her mouth but unable to speak.
"I knew it… You forgot everything," Morpheus said, his tone like that of an abandoned lover.
Atalanta glanced between Morpheus and Jeanne Alter, instantly realizing he was toying with her.
Seeing Ritsuka and Mash's shocked expressions, she thought they were too naive, falling for his act.
"So, you really know nothing!"
"I…"
Jeanne Alter looked at him, then saw his beaming smile.
"You're not Jeanne. You're a fake!" Morpheus declared. "Servants may be copies of Heroic Spirits, but they inherit their spirit. You don't. You're just a construct with fabricated memories!"
A glint flashed in Morpheus's eyes as he raised his hand.
"Cold and wet!"
Water materialized, forming a serpent that surged forward.
Jeanne Alter dodged easily, but the serpent didn't dissipate, speeding up!
"It's you, isn't it, Gilles?" Morpheus said. The serpent struck a patch of air, which shimmered, revealing a magical array.
It was a hidden temple, now exposed and breached by the serpent.
The serpent ensnared the revealed sorcerer, dragging him to Morpheus without resistance.
"Let me go!" Gilles shouted, trying to summon a sea demon with his Noble Phantasm, but he had no chance.
A magic circle appeared on the ground, surrounding him, inscribed with the Lord's name, sealing his evil and his power.
"Let me guess... Jeanne Alter is the Master of those Servants, and you're her Master?" Morpheus said, uttering another word.
"Hot and dry!"
"I'm not…" Gilles tried to protest, but flames erupted, burning away his clothes, revealing hidden Command Seals. Morpheus smirked. "Got you!"
"You!"
"I'll guess again. A frog-like creep brought you here, told you you could save the dead Jeanne, and gave you the Holy Grail. You wished to revive her, but the Grail couldn't do it, so you had it craft a body and implant your version of Jeanne's memories."
Morpheus clicked his tongue.
"Pretty twisted!"
"You! You know nothing!" Gilles roared, trying to justify himself.
"Why not summon the real Jeanne? With the Grail's power, that should've been easy. But you chose to create a fake because you knew the real Jeanne wouldn't obey you? Or, with your ego, you thought she would."
Morpheus's grin widened. Taunting felt so good.
"It's obvious. You didn't want Jeanne. You wanted a puppet that looked like her. Isn't that right, you creep?"
Twisted, utterly twisted. Gilles tried to shout, to resist, but Morpheus gave him no chance.
A banishing force erupted from the array, tearing space-time and engulfing Gilles!
With Gilles's disappearance, Jeanne Alter lost her mana supply, feeling her end approaching.
Yet she was trapped in self-doubt, forgetting even to fight.
"My existence… is fake?!"
"I'm just a fabricated construct?"
"Why overthink it? Instead, figure out what you like, what you want. Ditch the lousy parents ASAP," Morpheus's voice reached her, puzzling her.
Then she saw the immense mana coalescing around him.
The four archangels stood behind him, supporting the youth, making him holy as the Son of God.
A massive cross appeared, piercing his hands, fixing him to it... a Christ-like image.
This legendary pose prompted Jeanne Alter to ask, "Are you…?"
"Nope, you're wrong," Morpheus interrupted, enduring the pain in his hands and the weight behind him. "Just standing in for my brother. Your sins… I'll bear them."
This wasn't a whim but a calculated act, a path of symbolism.
Jeanne Alter was stunned, staring at him. Why would he do this? Could her actions truly be forgiven?
"It's not forgiveness... it's bearing. You can repay it slowly if you want."
Morpheus's voice reached her, but she couldn't respond. A force repelled her, her body collapsing. She felt the Throne of Heroes... how could a fake like her have a place there?!
"There's plenty of time ahead. Think about your path."
His final words echoed as she was pulled into a rift, severed from this world.
***
If you enjoyed this story, don't forget to drop 5 stars and your power stone. And if you want to read more than 70 chapters in advance, feel free to visit: pat reon . com / KangTL