Clang! Clang!
The sound of clashing steel resumed after a brief pause. Guinevere and Vlad III's battlefield had shifted to the small meadow before the castle gates.
Following First Hassan's words, Guinevere's swordplay lost its forced quality, allowing her to channel the power of heaven and earth with greater ease.
Why? Simply because Guinevere had glimpsed a broader realm of mastery, causing a subtle shift in her mindset.
Yet this subtle change accelerated Vlad III's inevitable defeat. As Guinevere returned to her original, primal fighting style, she began to create openings in his defense.
'Use a Command Spell? Use a Command Spell? Use a Command Spell?'
On the castle walls, the Yggdmillennia Family Head's heart was torn with indecision. To reverse this certain defeat, Vlad III had one more Noble Phantasm at his disposal.
It was [Legend of Dracula], an A-rank Anti-Unit (Self) Noble Phantasm. Its effect was to transform Vlad III into the very creature he despised most: a vampire.
Upon transformation, his Noble Phantasms and Skills as a Lancer would be sealed. In exchange, his base stats would skyrocket, and he would gain the traditional vampiric abilities from folklore: creating familiars, turning into mist, transforming into a bat, and charming others.
Of course, this also meant acquiring weaknesses like vulnerability to sunlight and crosses.
"Um, Family Head, I don't think forcing Lancer to use his Second Noble Phantasm is a good idea. Lady Guinevere has become like an Archangel. If Lancer turns into a vampire, it's practically a death sentence."
As the battle raged on, more members of the Yggdmillennia Family had gathered on the castle walls. Fortunately, an onlooker's perspective proved clearer. Persuaded by a female family member named Celenike, the Yggdmillennia Patriarch finally deflated.
He bit his lip, ran a hand through his hair, and decided to gamble on one last option besides activating [Legend of Dracula].
"Lancer, by the power of my Command Spell, I order you: become stronger!"
He used all three Command Spells in a desperate, self-destructive act, born from the realization of inevitable defeat. Yet, empowered by the three Command Spells, Vlad III nodded his thanks to the Yggdmillennia Patriarch, feeling a pang of guilt for being unable to fulfill his Master's wish.
At the same time, his base stats truly soared to all A-ranks, allowing both him and Guinevere to fight with even greater abandon.
The Replica Holy Sword swung, its golden flames spreading across Vlad III's spear and body.
However, he could endure the searing pain, and his B-rank [Magic Resistance] ensured the flames only scorched his surface.
The flames' effectiveness stemmed entirely from their nature as Divine Fire, an extension of her EX-rank Skill [Executioner].
Clang!
Spear and sword clashed once more. But this time, Guinevere suddenly unleashed her full strength, batting aside Vlad III's spear when he least expected it. As his guard broke wide open, she smoothly twisted her blade's path and struck him with the technique [Aroundight Overload].
Mana erupted from his body, leaving a sword wound deep enough to cleave him in two.
As a sign of respect, Guinevere immediately leaped back several dozen steps and began to unleash the second strike of her Noble Phantasm.
It was a standard beam of light—a conventional use of the [Sword of Destined Judgment]. Yet this time, its release seemed to draw upon the very might of heaven and earth, as if the world itself sought to crush its target.
Somewhat surprised that a normally executed strike could achieve such an effect, she watched in silence as Vlad III was engulfed by the crimson beam of mana.
The battle against him had been at least 70% satisfying.
"With this... the Holy Grail should be filled with four Servants, right?"
Currently, the Greater Grail of Fuyuki rested beneath Yggdmillennia Castle. With Vlad III defeated and no other Servants immediately available, the Yggdmillennia Clan Head had resigned himself to the situation. It was too late to recall Kirei Kotomine, Achilles, or Chiron.
As Patriarch Darnic led Guinevere to the underground chamber to see the Greater Grail, the battle on another front—the King of Knights'—was also nearing its end.
Mordred, in her Berserker class, was so consumed by her rage that even Command Spells couldn't restrain her from seeking out the King of Knights.
Once their clash began, every one of Mordred's sword strikes was a killing blow.
"Ex... calibur!!!"
"Clarent Blood Arthur (Rebellion Against My Beautiful Father)!!!"
Across the desolate wasteland, a golden beam of light collided with a crimson lightning beam. Naturally, Excalibur proved superior.
Mordred was engulfed, her armor shattered, revealing her crimson attire beneath as she was left grievously wounded.
Yet, the more certain her defeat became, the more frenzied the Berserker-class Mordred grew. Like an injured lion cub, she continued to lash out with her underdeveloped claws and fangs.
One second, two seconds...
Kairi Sisigou used his final Command Spell, instantly healing Mordred's wounds even as her defeat seemed inevitable.
As the King and Crown Prince's swords clashed once more, the King of Knights abruptly changed tactics. She manifested her Holy Lance, using it to knock Mordred's "Demonic Sword" away. Discarding the lance, she then embraced Mordred and pinned her to the desolate ground.
The lance transformed into a tower of light, enveloping both the King of Knights and Mordred. It pressed down on the already pinned Mordred, rendering her completely immobile.
Then, the King of Knights kissed her daughter's forehead and spoke. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the suffering you've endured, for bearing the malice directed at 'Mordred' by later generations for fifteen hundred years."
In the instant she wielded the lance, the phantom image of a white horse seemed to appear, and the King of Knights' eyes grew an even deeper shade of emerald.
In that same moment, she truly saw more—the true origin of this Berserker Mordred. She understood that this wasn't just a frenzied aspect of her own Mordred, but a construct shaped by later legends: the "Knight of Rebellion" from a false story.
Embracing Mordred, the King of Knights' guilt was paramount. To hold her even tighter, she deliberately dispelled her steel armor, revealing their perfectly matched figures.
"Sir Mordred, you possess the qualities of a king. No, in history, you did become a king."
Unlike a Mage, and unlike her Lion King self, the King of Knights was still the same person. She couldn't share her memories with the Mordred she held in her arms.
But for this Mordred, the King of Knights' words were more than enough. Or rather, after being pinned down and kissed on the forehead, her chaotic thoughts had already cleared, and her entire body trembled with blissful shivers.
"Hehe... Father..."
The Berserker class still had its uses. For instance, this Mordred had far less self-control; whatever she thought, she immediately acted upon.
Like how she was now rubbing her face fiercely against the King of Knights', her arms wrapped tightly around her back.
Unlike the Mordred who had survived the Battle of Camlann and successfully inherited the Kingdom of Camelot, this Berserker Mordred was born from malice. Her memories were those of the legends.
In other words, she had never experienced the love of family or the tenderness of the King of Knights.
Yet, just as in the stories, she was the Round Table Knight who loved and revered the King of Knights more than any other.
Embraced, acknowledged as worthy of kingship—this Berserker Mordred was truly dying in a state of pure bliss.
The King of Knights hadn't killed her and wanted to keep her close to make amends. But for Berserker Mordred, this was already enough.
With her resentment gone, she, a "fictional" Heroic Spirit, no longer had a foundation for existence.
She would return to the Throne of Heroes with this memory, becoming a new source of strength for the original Mordred.
From now on, this world's Mordred would likely gain a new Noble Phantasm, one bestowed by later legends...
Clarent Blood Arthur.
And just as Berserker Mordred was defeated, the Holy Grail of this war finally reached the point of manifestation.