"Don't doubt me—what I'm doing is truly to save the world." Aslan said with a resigned tone, looking at Draco, who appeared skeptical.
(Save the world? Destroy it first, then save it?)
Draco inwardly scoffed.
Yet despite her sarcasm, her actions didn't falter. She had promised to help the Heroic Spirits defeat Angra Mainyu—and she was already searching for the perfect moment to trap her.
Of course, Aslan paid no mind to Draco's reaction. He didn't particularly care.
After all, this was his plan and his risk to take. Knowing too much wouldn't do Draco any good.
When Angra Mainyu realized she had temporarily lost her immortality, she immediately transformed into her strongest possible form—the ultimate evolution she could achieve.
However, due to limited recorded data, the strongest form she could currently attain was still a massive, filthy black dragon.
The enormous draconic body, hundreds of meters long, flapped its wings, creating powerful gusts that lifted its colossal frame into the air.
"Ahhhh—"
Thick, toxic black sludge from All the World's Evils erupted from Angra Mainyu's mouth.
Its polluting and poisonous nature was so intense that even Servants with Grand Spirit Origin refused to touch it.
"Avalon!"
An invisible barrier instantly enveloped Artoria, shielding her from Angra Mainyu's blast.
Meanwhile, when Iskandar faced this overwhelming eruption, he neither summoned his Noble Phantasm nor attempted to resist.
He knew that under the absolute corruption of All the World's Evils, nothing could endure except for Noble Phantasms like Avalon.
Even he, having obtained a Grand Spirit Origin, was no exception.
"Ionioi Hetairoi!"
Iskandar gently patted Waver's head one last time, then swiftly grabbed the boy and hurled him into his own Reality Marble.
"Come on, show me your Demon God's breath! I'll conquer you once again!"
The giant red-haired man spread his arms wide, welcoming Angra Mainyu's blast with his bare body.
Inside the Reality Marble, Waver burst into sobs.
"My king… next time, I'll still be your follower, sharing the joy of conquest with you!"
And so, Iskandar left the battlefield.
When Scáthach and Gilgamesh faced Angra Mainyu's eruption, they likewise made no attempt to defend themselves—just like Iskandar.
After all, to open the rift, the souls of Servants with high purity were required.
In a normal Holy Grail War, seven Servant souls were needed to open the gate.
But with Grand Servants, only about five souls were sufficient to create a large enough opening to expel Angra Mainyu.
Though never spoken aloud, they shared a deep understanding as Grand Servants.
They all knew they had to sacrifice themselves.
Or rather, these Servant bodies were created from the beginning to be sacrificed.
"So even though it's not true death… finally, I get to feel the sensation of dying?"
Scáthach smiled as she spoke. She knew the Angra Mainyu before her was an opponent she couldn't defeat—even if her original self came to fight.
She was the perfect target for her challenge. Thus, she held no regrets about her end in this Holy Grail War.
"Oh, right—I almost forgot."
Scáthach seemed to recall something. Without hesitation, she threw a spear toward Aslan.
"Do you want to become my true disciple in the Land of Shadows?"
Aslan caught the crimson spear—but hadn't even time to refuse.
Scáthach immediately hurled her remaining magical spear.
"Gáe Bolg Alternative!"
The red magical spear condensed all of Scáthach's power and pierced straight through Angra Mainyu's throat, directly opposing the eruption.
*PU-CHI!*
It pierced Angra Mainyu's throat and stopped her breath attack.
Then, Scáthach died from the residual blast.
To perfectly drive the spear into her throat, she had to throw it against the flow of the eruption.
And so, Scáthach left the battlefield.
"Absolutely ridiculous." Aslan muttered with a helpless smile. He decided to keep the spear as a souvenir.
Visiting the Land of Shadows for fun? Sure. But becoming a disciple? He'd need to think twice.
If it were Scáthach from Little Garden inviting him, he wouldn't have refused. Scáthach was a true god of war, standing above countless gods and buddhas—rarely matched even in Little Garden.
Only beings like Indra, Zeus, or similar entities might surpass her in martial prowess.
Of course, there were many gods from Aslan's own mythology, but he wasn't very familiar with them.
After all, descriptions of Chinese mythology in the original story were extremely minimal.
Meanwhile, Gilgamesh rode the golden Vimana and stared coldly at Angra Mainyu.
The Vimana crashed into Angra Mainyu, and the ancient nuclear warhead inside exploded instantly.
At that moment, Gilgamesh unleashed his Noble Phantasm.
"Enuma Elish!"
Together with the Vimana and the ancient warhead, he drove Angra Mainyu down to the ground.
His own body was obliterated in the massive explosion.
As the King of Heroes, he was no coward afraid of death. Once he realized that expelling Angra Mainyu required opening the rift, they all chose to sacrifice their lives without hesitation.
They clearly understood one thing: containing Angra Mainyu wasn't difficult. The real challenge was how to expel her from the world?
That could only be done by the Star Sword!
So they entrusted this final task to King Arthur.
This was the unspoken understanding among fellow Grand Servants.
"Now only one Servant soul remains. Who should step forward?"
Aslan looked at Merlin with an openly mischievous grin.
Merlin returned his gaze with a bitter expression.
"My lord, could you grant me a quick death?"
"Lia, Merlin is asking for a swift death. What should we do?"
Aslan tossed the question to Artoria. He was certain she would give Merlin exactly what he wanted.
Meanwhile, Draco unleashed her Noble Phantasm.
"Babalon Domus Aurea!"
She trapped the now-helpless Angra Mainyu within the Golden Theater.
Then, she released her Beast of 666 form—seven horns, ten heads—and engaged Angra Mainyu in battle.
Of course, Draco was well aware of just how much she was holding back.
"She's unleashing so much power!"
Draco couldn't help but complain as she felt Angra Mainyu's overwhelming strength.
If she resisted even slightly, she'd be torn apart instantly.
◆━⊰✧⊱━◆
Meanwhile, Merlin trembled in fear as he watched Artoria—who occasionally held Excalibur, sometimes Rhongomyniad; who wore black armor one moment, had no ahoge the next; and who even emerged at times as a lion puppet.
At that moment, multiple Artorias were fighting fiercely for the chance to help Merlin "be freed."
The Round Table meeting inside their minds was pure chaos. The round table had shattered countless times over.
Finally, after a friendly discussion,
All Artorias agreed to advance together—taking turns teaching Merlin a lesson.
And so, Merlin experienced what could only be described as a one-person army beatdown.
In the end, he took his own life.