The night had deepened.
This battle across time and space was reaching its climax.
Not just the clash between the King of Knights and the magus.
Simultaneously, on another front…
After Kirei Kotomine and Zouken Matou vanished to some unknown place for their skirmish…
"Assemble here, my armies—!!"
With a thunderous cry from the King of Conquerors, a terrifying surge of mana erupted, enveloping the area. The world around them transformed instantly. The dark night and dense forest vanished, replaced by swirling sands and a vast army capable of trampling the heavens.
In a blink, a world of endless dunes unfolded, filled with the clash of steel and hooves.
Amid a roaring war cry, a mighty army emerged from the horizon of the sandstorm.
In the desert, scorching winds whipped across Kayneth and Waver's faces, the blazing sun overhead baking them into a sweat.
But more chilling than the harsh weather was the overwhelming King's Army behind them, marching relentlessly forward.
Iskandar, who had stood beside them moments ago, now led the charge from the front, gripping the reins of his Gordius Wheel, guiding his forces like a compass through this vast, sandy world.
"I am Iskandar, the King of Conquerors! Warriors under my banner, now is the time to show our kingly path! Tell me, what is conquest—?!!"
Halting his chariot, Iskandar drew his Sword of Cyprian, symbol of conquest and victory, and bellowed a question that shook the heavens.
His commanding voice startled Kayneth and Waver. Gone was the fool they knew; his rugged demeanor was now overshadowed by an aura of dominance.
He stood as a general commanding thousands, leading his army across the land—and so he did.
The King of Conquerors embodied conquest.
Unlike kings who inherited thrones through lineage, Iskandar's life was one of death, battle, and conquest. His feet tread through war, his hands wielded destruction, his path unstoppable—a blazing trail of dominance.
Everything he had was earned, forged from nothing, built through conquest until he became king. This was his path of conquest.
Behind him, the boundless army and warhorses shared his ambition, loyal warriors who followed him to the end.
To his question, they raised their weapons, matching his stride, shouting in unison:
"—The nation above all, breaking nations next, that is conquest!"
"—The nation above all, breaking nations next, that is conquest!!"
Their steps were synchronized, their voices tearing through the heavens.
Their wills united, singing the truth of conquest's path.
"Is this his kingly way?"
Kayneth was awestruck. Though he'd glimpsed this reality marble once while evading Kiritsugu's bombing, its fleeting nature hid its full scope.
Now, witnessing the Macedonian army that once swept this desert, even his pride was shaken, forcing him back several steps.
Like Waver's first encounter, the vast earth and insignificant humanity overwhelmed him, stirring his heart with a sense of who commands the tides.
This was Iskandar's reality marble, the [Ionioi Hetairoi]?
Such a grand world, a miracle beyond imagination, wielded by a Rider ignorant of magecraft.
"Hahahahaha—!!" Hearing his soldiers' response, Iskandar laughed skyward. "My warriors!!"
"Tell me, where lies our ultimate frontier—?!"
Ignoring Kayneth's awe, the towering Iskandar stood atop his chariot, raising his sword to the sky, shouting with soulful fervor: "What do we seek—?!"
"The Oceanus!"
"The Oceanus!!"
"The Oceanus—!!!"
Every soldier moved in unison, their wills resonating, raising weapons and chanting the name they chased in life, gazing at Iskandar with fervent zeal. Their voices shook the sandy world.
This was the heart-world forged by Iskandar and his warriors, a Noble Phantasm that overwrote reality, his proudest trump card.
Iskandar believed that, reunited with his comrades, no abyss or star could stand unconquered!!
"This is the King of Conquerors's ace, such a majestic reality marble… remarkable, truly remarkable…"
Even Finn McCool, a hero of the Age of Gods who'd witnessed divine miracles, marveled at this tiger-like army.
He'd seen countless powerful heroes.
His knights, himself included, were such champions, each worth a thousand.
But Iskandar's ability to summon a unified army of thousands, their will piercing the heavens, was unprecedented.
Unlike Finn, Artoria, Scáthach, or Gilgamesh, whose feats bore divine or mystical hues, Iskandar's were purely human.
Finn and Scáthach slew gods, Gilgamesh became one, Artoria was a dragon's heir, a child of mystery—their deeds blended human and divine.
But Iskandar?
His legacy, this grand army, was a human achievement, untouched by gods or their blessings.
He led his forces, sweeping through Greece's chaos, unifying it, then marching to the Middle East, conquering Egypt and Persia, reaching India's rivers, crafting an epic saga.
A human-wrought feat, shocking even gods.
Now, in this reality marble, that epic was reborn.
Witnessing this grandeur, Finn and Lancelot felt their hearts surge.
"Arrrrrrrrrrr—!!"
Feeling the army's boundless war spirit, Lancelot let out a fervent war cry, eager to join the fray.
"Haha, Berserker, can't hold back your spirit? Good! I feel your resolve!!"
Iskandar, hearing Lancelot's cry, laughed heartily, sensing his fervor.
He turned proudly to Finn, showing off his Noble Phantasm, this mighty creation forged with his comrades.
"See, Finn, Lemonhead, Lancelot, and Waver—!!"
"This is my treasure, my kingly path and pursuit, the King of Conquerors Iskandar's strongest, proudest Noble Phantasm—"
"—Ionioi Hetairoi!!"
Iskandar waved his arm, and his warriors raised their weapons, shouting his name.
"King of Conquerors!"
"King of Conquerors!!"
"King of Conquerors!!!"
Thousands of heroic spirits roared, spearmen striking the ground, swordsmen clashing blades and shields, resounding with a clang that shook the earth.
Finn couldn't help but envy.
Once, he'd dreamed of reuniting with his comrades for such a scene.
Biting his finger, his eyes lit up, scanning Iskandar and his grand army, understanding something, and exclaiming:
"Remarkable, King of Conquerors! Truly a trump card—these are all heroic spirits?"
Finn saw the truth of this Noble Phantasm.
The soldiers weren't mere shadows or puppets but heroic spirits like himself, not summoned by the World's restraint but answering their king's call to this battlefield.
Iskandar leapt from his chariot, tossing the non-combatant Kayneth and Waver onto it, instructing a white-haired youth to protect them.
"Ptolemy, my Master and Lemonhead are in your care. I'm off to face the King of Heroes!"
Mounting a black steed, Iskandar locked eyes with Gilgamesh, thousands of meters away, arms crossed, gazing coldly.
"As you command, King." The youth, Ptolemy, nodded briskly, leaping onto the Gordius Wheel to drive the glorious Noble Phantasm.
"Ptolemy… Ptolemy I?"
Kayneth and Waver froze, recognizing the name.
The founder of the Ptolemaic dynasty, as renowned as Iskandar.
And the shock didn't end there.
Those gathered under Iskandar were exceptional—heroes like Ptolemy and the legendary seven companions, each summonable alone, now united.
Kayneth reevaluated Iskandar's strength.
This reckless brute might be the strongest in the Grail War…
With so many heroic spirits and soldiers, how could he lose? Even against the ancient King of Heroes, could he withstand this human epic?
"Hahaha, thanks to you, Lemonhead."
After unleashing his Noble Phantasm and greeting old comrades, Iskandar thanked Kayneth.
"Thanks to me?" Kayneth was puzzled.
"Right. Your furnace was too useful. My Master's mana limited my soldiers' full strength, but your furnace and the three Command Spells just used? We're at our peak! Ready for an all-out fight!!"
Iskandar turned to the desert's end, where the golden king faced his army without fear, radiating battle intent…
Perfect. A true king, unshaken by thousands, laughing off victory or defeat.
Feeling Gilgamesh's surging mana, Iskandar's eyes gleamed with unmatched zeal.
Lancelot, blending into the army, snatched a horse from an unknown spirit, drawing his true Noble Phantasm—Arondight, the Unfading Light of the Lake.
"Hahahaha, Berserker's impatient?"
Iskandar didn't scold Lancelot's horse-snatching, laughing heartily, then turned to Finn, still on the ground.
"Lancer, you didn't bring a mount, right?"
"Sadly, as a Lancer, not a Rider, my underworld steed and hounds didn't come."
Finn shook his head, a hint of regret.
"Hahaha, no problem!"
Iskandar waved, and a spirited white steed charged from the army to Finn.
"This is?"
Finn's eyes lit up—within Iskandar's Noble Phantasm, even horses were heroic spirits.
"Ride, Finn. Not your divine steed, but these are veterans of my campaigns, top-notch!!"
"Thanks, I won't disappoint."
Finn nodded solemnly.
"Hahaha, everyone's ready, so—!!"
"Let the famed King of Heroes feel our unyielding resolve! Let him taste Macedonian valor!!"
"Yes!"
"Yes!!"
"Yes!!!"
Glancing back, confirming all was set, Iskandar swung his sword, sparking a dazzling thunderbolt, signaling the war's start.
—Boom!!
A deafening roar unfolded, dark clouds shrouding the sky, blocking the sun.
Amid divine thunder, the bellow of sacred oxen and whinny of warhorses echoed.
Leading, Iskandar swung his sword at Gilgamesh, shouting: "Charge—!!"
"—Charge!!!!"
Boom, boom, boom.
Sand swirled, hooves thundered, momentum surged.
Unified voices soared, piercing the clouds like a blade. The army charged, the human epic overwhelming, trembling even gods.
"My heart's racing…"
Grateful for the steed, Finn gripped his divine spear, leading the charge for Iskandar's Macedonian army.
"Arrrrrrrr…"
Lancelot, among the ranks, unleashed his boundless martial prowess, his knightly skill shining, racing alongside Finn from the right.
Gold and black, two top Celtic knights became blades, rushing to the fiercest battlefield.
"Hahahaha! Exhilarating! I'm in!!"
"—All forces, attack!!"
Seeing their valor, Iskandar refused to lag, swinging his sword, leading the charge of thousands.
"—Charge!!!"
Behind the three, earth-shaking war cries followed, led by the legendary seven companions and countless Macedonian phalanxes. Ptolemy gripped the reins, spear in hand, carrying Kayneth and Waver into this epic expedition—
"—Aaaah! That reckless fool, why drag us into the charge!!!"
On the jolting chariot, Kayneth and Waver struggled to stand, legs weak from the grandeur, bodies swaying, collapsing and clinging to each other.
"Hahaha, don't complain, King's Master and… Lemonhead? Join this grand expedition!"
Their screams reached Ptolemy, who laughed, speeding the Gordius Wheel, a thunderbolt matching the front three.
"…"
Gilgamesh watched coldly.
Despite the majestic scene, the golden king at the desert's end remained calm, heart still.
Thousands of Macedonian phalanxes?
Countless heroes of great deeds?
A human epic?
Irrelevant.
To him, it was mere amusement.
It piqued his interest but didn't awe or intimidate him. Only one could challenge him—
"Enkidu!!"
Observing from a third perspective, Gilgamesh had seen through the King's Army during Assassin and Kiritsugu's attack, understanding this human-wrought epic.
"Hmph, a sandy battlefield of the heart? A human achievement—not entirely dull, King of Conquerors…"
"But only at this level does it delight me, hahaha—!!"
Gazing at the unified, majestic army charging, hearing their soaring war cries.
Gilgamesh felt no turmoil, only laughter.
He calmly watched their charge, remarking, "Gathering dreams, achieving dominance, such will deserves praise."
Golden ripples appeared beside him, a golden gate opening, a complex golden key gripped in his hand.
"But, warriors, do you understand? Dreams must awaken…"
He spoke calmly, twisting the key's base, unleashing a crimson glow.
Boom—!!
With a terrifying aura, Gilgamesh floated into the air.
"If you won't wake, come—witness your dream's end, and I'll teach you the truth."
He spoke calmly, raising the flashing crimson light, aiming at the charging army, his scarlet eyes devoid of joy or sorrow…
***
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