As the Assassin vanished, the heavy, suffocating silence returned only to be broken by a deep, reverberating voice echoing from behind the pulsating monolith of meat.
"Lowly human... prostrate yourself. Submit, and I shall grant you a painless demise."
Demon God Aim slowly dragged its colossal, hideous form out from the flesh pillar. It was a grotesque amalgamation of corrupted muscle tissue and countless, unblinking eyes that twitched frantically. It radiated an aura of pure, unadulterated corruption.
Fujimaru stared up at the abomination, his expression locked in icy contempt.
Aim's countless eyes narrowed in collective fury. A torrent of apocalyptic black flames erupted from its massive core.
"The Time for End Hath Come! Incineration Ritual: Aim!"
The ruined city violently violently quaked. The flames of darkness exploded outward, devouring the spiritual plane and swallowing Fujimaru completely in an inferno of nothingness. The heat was enough to melt the very concept of reality.
But as the roaring flames subsided... Fujimaru stood completely untouched.
He lunged through the dissipating smoke, his Demon Eye drawing a massive, vertical arc of light that effortlessly bisected the Demon God from top to bottom.
Aim's two halves shuddered—but almost immediately, the hideous, weeping flesh snapped back together, knitting the wound closed in an instant. A horrific, distorted laughter echoed in Fujimaru's mind.
"I CANNOT DIE SO EASILY!"
"It seems you monsters refuse to stay dead," Fujimaru muttered, dismissing his twin blades. "This time, I'll make sure there's nothing left to revive."
Fujimaru reached his right hand into the empty space before him. The air visibly rippled. From the void, he drew The Pentagram. It was a half-meter cutlass, its hilt adorned with elegant gold ornaments, while its blade radiated a clear, deadly sky-blue light that pushed back the gloom.
Wasting no time, his figure blurred with speed the eye couldn't follow.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Five lightning-fast slashes tore through the air, leaving behind brilliant trails of piercing blue light. The strikes connected with mathematical precision, carving a massive, glowing five-pointed star across Aim's colossal body.
Triggering the unique ability of the Legacy Tier weapon, the five consecutive strikes invoked an absolute curse: Instant Death.
There was no agonizing scream. There was no explosive shockwave. The massive Demon God that had just radiated pure, overwhelming terror suddenly froze in place. Its immense life force was utterly extinguished in a fraction of a second.
The colossal creature didn't just die it was systematically erased. It crumbled into a rain of black ash, instantly blown away by the winds of destruction. There was no body left to regenerate. No soul lingering in the air. No trace of its corrupting mana. Only a heavy, suffocating void remained, like a black hole that had abruptly snapped shut.
Absolute silence descended upon Lyon. Then, the dead earth beneath Fujimaru's feet gave a violent shudder, and the ash-choked sky above began to turn a sickly, pale white.
A massive rift tore open in the sky above the city. From within the tear, a colossal, dark-red magic circle materialized—easily the size of the city of Lyon. Ancient runes and symbols from the Age of Gods shimmered into existence, forming a geometric pattern that pulsed like the world's dying heartbeat.
Fujimaru looked up, his eyes narrowing at the glowing sky. "An active fail-safe...? So they'd rather obliterate their own territory than let an enemy survive."
The first second, the wind completely stopped.
The second second, the ground began to melt like wax under the heat of an artificial sun.
The third second, the air itself caught fire. Flames erupted from the sky and the earth simultaneously.
The fourth second, the sky split wide open, and the piercing screech of an unknown entity echoed from somewhere beyond the boundaries of reality.
The fifth second—
BOOOOOOM!!!
Absolute destruction. It wasn't just ordinary magecraft; it was a phenomenon from the Age of Gods, an event modern magi could only describe as "absolute anarchy." Everything in its radius buildings, earth, stone, and lingering spirits was utterly vaporized. The entire city of Lyon was wiped out in a storm of black and red flames, snuffed out like a candle by a giant's breath.
"Teleportation."
Just before the blast could consume him, Fujimaru vanished, instantly teleporting miles away from the point blank. The overwhelming shockwave swept across the wasteland. It flattened forests, shattered riverbeds, and violently tore at the local dimensional boundaries, leaving nothing but a burning, empty crater where a city had once stood.
When the cataclysmic explosion finally subsided, a suffocating, heavy silence returned to the wasteland. Standing on a high ridge miles away from the point blank was Fujimaru. Without a single scratch. Without a single burn.
Pulverized rock and ash drifted down from the sky like bloody snow. Small, unnatural dark-red fires still flickered at the extreme edges of the massive, miles-wide crater. Below him, absolutely nothing remained. No Phantom of the Opera. No Lancelot. Not even the foundational stones of Lyon.
Only Fujimaru stood amidst the desolation, quietly staring up at the bleeding, gray sky.
"That magnitude of magecraft..." he muttered, his voice grim. "It was entirely equivalent to a Nuclear Blast."
He slowly dismissed The Pentagram back into the void, his mind rapidly processing the tactical implications. Then, a sudden, chilling realization hit him.
"If that active fail-safe triggers every time a Demon God Pillar or a city's commander is destroyed..." His expression darkened into sheer urgency. "That means the other Servants are in immediate danger!"
He instantly opened his magical communication network, broadcasting a high-priority, frantic warning to Jeanne, Mash, and the rest of the strike teams. Without wasting another second, Fujimaru collect the crystal and cast Fly once more, launching himself into the turbulent sky and tearing through the air at maximum speed toward the city of Marseille.
! Berserker, Lancelot has been defeated !
! Assassin, Phantom of the Opera has been defeated !
The journey to Marseille was swift, the ruined French countryside blurring past them under the bruised, gray sky. Ahead, Siegfried and Cú Chulainn scouted the path in quiet focus, while Kiyohime glided silently behind them, her golden eyes fixed intensely on the horizon.
In the middle of the formation, Mash rode closely alongside Marie Antoinette. Despite the smooth, effortless pace of the Queen's ethereal crystal steed, Mash's shoulders were rigid. Her fingers gripped the heavy metal edge of her massive shield so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
Marie watched the younger girl out of the corner of her eye for a moment before offering a soft, warm smile.
"You are thinking about Master Fujimaru, aren't you?" Marie asked gently, her voice a comforting melody against the bleak howling of the wind.
Mash blinked, startled out of her anxious thoughts. "Ah... yes. I apologize, Queen Marie. I know I need to stay focused on our current mission, but... leaving him completely alone to siege an enemy city just feels fundamentally wrong. I am his Shielder. I should be standing in front of him."
"You don't need to apologize to me, Mash. And please, just 'Marie' is fine," the Queen replied, leaning slightly closer. "Worrying about someone precious to you is the most natural thing in the world. It simply proves that you have a beautiful, caring heart."
Mash lowered her gaze, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "I just hope he is safe."
"He will be," Marie said with absolute, unwavering conviction. She reached out, gently placing her gloved hand over Mash's tense fingers. Her touch was incredibly warm against the chill of the wasteland. "Did you see the look in his eyes back at the stronghold? Those were not the eyes of a boy walking to his death. They were the eyes of someone who knows exactly how to claim victory. He trusted us with this front, Mash. The best way we can protect him right now is to win our battle here."
Mash looked up, meeting the Queen's radiant, reassuring smile. Slowly, the suffocating knot of anxiety in her chest began to untangle. The sheer, unshakable optimism of the French Queen was remarkably contagious, pushing back the gloom of the cursed land around them.
"You're right... Marie," Mash nodded, her grip on her shield relaxing into a more natural, steady hold. "Thank you. I really needed to hear that."
"Of course!" Marie beamed, her eyes suddenly sparkling with bright delight. "Besides, once we secure Marseille and reunite with him, we should all have a proper tea party to celebrate. I know a few secret recipes for the most wonderful cakes. You'll help me bake them, won't you, Mash?"
For the first time since they had left Vaucouleurs, a genuine, albeit small, smile appeared on Mash's face. "I would love that."
"It's a promise, then," Marie said cheerfully.
The brief moment of warmth shielded them from the biting wind, steadying their resolve as they rode forward, right up until the shattered, nightmarish skyline of Marseille finally loomed in the distance. As they breached the city center, they found a nightmare waiting for them.
Standing amidst the shattered remnants of Marseille was something that simply should not exist in this world. It was a colossal monolith of raw, red flesh, pulsating slowly like the exposed heart of some ancient, butchered beast. While its anatomy vaguely mocked the Demon God Flauros, this structure was infinitely more rotted and distorted—a malignant curse given physical form.
And standing directly before the flesh pillar was a man cloaked in a thick, coagulated aura of death: Charles-Henri Sanson.
His hair was stark white like a winter blizzard, wild and untamed. His eyes were chilling a pair of frozen blades that seemed to pierce straight through the conscience. He wore a long, sweeping black coat adorned with white linings that mocked the grand emblems of the French royalty he had once served, now deeply tainted by madness. Jagged, dragon-like thorns protruded fiercely from his shoulders. In his hands, he wielded a massive, pitch-black executioner's greatsword, a brutal instrument of death that had already devoured thousands of souls. At the base of its heavy blade, the ominous seal of the executioner was deeply engraved.
Marie stepped forward, her crystal steed dissipating into light. Her voice was steady, yet carried a profound, melancholy weight.
"To think... I would meet my executioner once again."
Sanson slowly raised the heavy, black blade, the metal groaning against the dead air. His voice was deathly calm, heavy with the absolute certainty of destiny.
"And I have never forgotten your face... nor your pale neck," the Assassin replied, his icy gaze locking onto the Queen. "Fate has arranged everything perfectly. I am the executioner... and you are the condemned."
Without a second of hesitation, his chaotic mana flared, and he swung the greatsword downward to enact his twisted justice.
"La Mort Espoir: Death is Hope For Tomorrow (Anti-Unit A+)"
The very air shattered like glass. From the jagged cracks in reality, countless invisible hands stretched outward long, freezing cold, and absolutely relentless. They bypassed the other Servants entirely, locking onto Marie with singular, terrifying intent.
It was the absolute manifestation of the guillotine's shadow; an inescapable execution that would continue to violently pursue the Queen without pause, an absolute curse that could not be stopped even if Sanson himself were to be killed.
"Surrender!" Sanson's voice cut through the heavy air, absolute and unforgiving. "My Noble Phantasm is destined to pursue you to the ends of the earth! This is the eternal verdict for the queen whose head has already fallen!"
As the cold, invisible hands of the executioner shot forward from the fractured air, Marie did not simply wait for them. With a flash of radiant light, she summoned her ethereal crystal steed and spurred it into motion.
She wove through the ruined streets of Marseille with breathtaking grace, the invisible hands of La Mort Espoir tearing up the cobblestones and shattering buildings just inches behind her.
"You cannot outrun the guillotine, Marie!" Sanson roared. His chaotic mana flared as he lunged forward with terrifying speed, bringing his pitch-black greatsword crashing down.
CLASH!
Marie raised her hands, projecting a thick barrier of condensed, shimmering crystal. The executioner's heavy blade struck the shield with the force of a meteor. The impact sent a violent shockwave through the plaza, shattering the windows of nearby buildings and forcing Mash and the others to brace themselves.
The crystal barrier webbed with deep cracks, groaning under Sanson's monstrous physical strength.
"I have no intention of running, Sanson!" Marie called out over the deafening scrape of metal against crystal. With a burst of magical energy, she shattered her own barrier outward, sending razor-sharp shards of light flying at the Assassin.
Sanson didn't flinch. He spun his massive sword, deflecting the crystal shards with brutal efficiency before launching another devastating horizontal cleave. Marie forced her steed to leap over the sweeping blade, narrowly avoiding being cut in half.
Mash gripped her shield, taking a step forward to intervene. "Marie—!"
"Stay back, Mash!" Marie commanded, her voice ringing clear as a bell even as she dodged another relentless strike. Suddenly, the colossal pillar of flesh behind Sanson convulsed violently, spewing a swarm of grotesque, corrupted tentacles and minor demons to block the other Servants.
"Focus on the Pillar! I will handle my executioner!" Marie ordered. Siegfried, Cú Chulainn, and Kiyohime immediately engaged the monstrous swarm, leaving the Queen and the Assassin locked in their fateful duel.
Sanson was a machine of absolute death. He pressed the assault, his greatsword carving devastating trenches into the earth. Marie danced around his heavy blows, retaliating with blinding beams of holy light, but Sanson simply pushed through the pain, his wild white hair whipping in the chaotic wind.
Suddenly, one of the invisible, spectral hands from his Noble Phantasm violently grasped the hind leg of Marie's crystal steed. The freezing chill of death instantly shattered the horse's leg. Marie was thrown from the saddle, rolling gracefully across the rough stones to regain her footing.
Sanson loomed over her, his eyes glowing with icy madness. He raised the executioner's sword for the final strike. "It is over. Accept your punishment!"
Instead of fear, Marie looked up at the blade and offered a gentle, entirely fearless smile. She knew she couldn't evade the spectral hands forever. The cold grip of death was already wrapping around her ankles.
"Then I shall welcome it," she replied softly, her posture remaining perfectly elegant despite the dirt on her dress. "But before that... let me illuminate the path for my precious comrades."
She raised her hands toward the bruised heavens, ignoring the executioner's descending blade. Her spiritual core flared with an immense, blinding brilliance.
"Crystal Palace: Beloved Radiance for All Eternity (Barrier B+)"
The gloomy, ash-choked sky shattered into a million dazzling fragments of light. From the sheer brilliance, a magnificent, ethereal palace materialized behind the Queen beautiful, pristine, and shining like a crystallized memory of France's bygone glory. A radiant, comforting aura cascaded from the phantom structure, flooding the ruined battlefield and pushing back the oppressive aura of death.
The warm light washed over Mash, Siegfried, Cú Chulainn, and Kiyohime, instantly mending their wounds, sharpening their senses, and surging their magical energy to tower over the Demon God Pillar's corruption. It was a beacon of pure, selfless devotion.
"Guillotine Breaker: Glory to the Crown of Lilies (Anti-Army A+)"
Summoning the last of her strength, Marie manifested her crystal steed one final time. She didn't try to block Sanson's sword. Instead, she tore through the heavy air, becoming a blinding comet of pure grace as she drove her strike directly into Sanson's chest before his blade could fall.
A brilliant, holy explosion erupted, washing over the ruined plaza and temporarily shattering the oppressive darkness.
Sanson fell to his knees, his massive, dark greatsword clattering against the fractured cobblestones. His corrupted body immediately began to dissolve into a fading, shadowy mist. The chaotic madness finally cleared from his icy eyes, leaving only a profound, melancholic peace as he looked up at her.
"I am glad..." he whispered, his voice incredibly soft, free of the Berserk-like madness. "...that I could end this with you, Marie."
Marie stood before him, the spectral hands of La Mort Espoir now violently seizing her arms and waist. Yet, her smile held no trace of hatred—only absolute, radiant grace.
"And I... forgive you, Charles."
The absolute curse of the executioner could not be stopped, even with Sanson's defeat. The invisible hands lifted Marie's delicate frame helplessly high into the ash-choked sky.
High above the battlefield, the spectral, looming silhouette of a massive guillotine materialized from the void, casting a heavy, terrifying shadow of death over the blood-soaked earth.
CRACK!
The heavy spectral blade fell without mercy.
And the brilliant, warm light of Marie Antoinette shattered, fading entirely into the gloom, leaving behind only the sparkling remnants of her Crystal Palace to guide her friends.
Mash hugged her massive shield tightly to her chest, her lips trembling as the brilliant light of the Queen shattered. "Marie... no..."
Cú Chulainn clicked his tongue, turning his face away to hide the violent, boiling anger in his red eyes. "She knew exactly how it was going to end. But she just kept smiling..."
Siegfried lowered his head, his silver hair shadowing his face in a solemn, knightly bow. "We shall carry her name. Her sacrifice... will not be in vain."
But the battlefield offered no time to mourn. The apocalyptic judgment had not yet finished.
The colossal pillar of flesh, Demon God Purson, let out a deafening, echoing roar. It didn't sound like the cry of a living creature; it sounded like the agonizing wails of a shattered, dying world.
"The Time for Redemption Hath Come... Incineration Ritual: Purson!"
A torrent of apocalyptic black fire violently erupted from its core. The ash-choked sky cracked like fragile glass, and the ruins of Marseille began to burn as a suffocating darkness threatened to swallow everything.
However, the lingering remnants of Marie's Crystal Palace stubbornly refused to die. The fading, ethereal shards formed a soft, protective dome of light over the remaining Servants, shielding them from the brunt of the corrupting heat and despair. Inspired by the Queen's final gift, the remaining heroes readied their counterattack.
Siegfried stepped to the absolute front, his golden eyes burning with draconic intensity. "Allow me to lead the vanguard. I am well accustomed to slaying monsters."
Mash took her stance right beside him, wiping the tears from her eyes as her shield radiated a resolute, unwavering light. "And I will protect our vanguard!"
Cú Chulainn spun his wooden staff, a fierce, predatory grin spreading across his face as glowing runic symbols ignited in the burning air around him. "Heh. It's not every day we get to burn hell from the inside out, eh?"
Purson unhinged its grotesque, shifting maw. A devastating, continuous beam of absolute black fire shot toward the group.
Mash slammed the base of her shield into the earth. "Lord Chaldeas: Virtual Noble Phantasm Pseudo-Deployment: Foundation of Human Order (Anti-Unit D)"
A massive fortress of blue magical energy materialized, absorbing the apocalyptic breath head-on. The sheer, crushing pressure of the Demon God's attack caused the very earth beneath Mash's boots to spiderweb and completely cave in, but she ground her teeth and held her line, refusing to yield a single inch.
Using Mash's shield as cover, Siegfried surged forward. With a superhuman leap, he launched himself high into the air, descending upon the colossal pillar of flesh with his greatsword enveloped in a terrifying, twilight aura.
"Balmung: Phantasmal Greatsword - Felling of the Sky Demon (Anti-Army EX Rank)"
The holy wave of twilight energy carved a massive, weeping gash straight down Purson's anatomy. Black, highly acidic blood sprayed violently across the ruins, melting the cobblestones wherever it landed.
Cú Chulainn immediately followed up, activating his Rune Magecraft (A Rank), his fingers danced through the air, carving the burning symbol. "Ansuz. Kenaz. Raidho...!"
A devastating barrage of sacred lightning and magical fire rained from the heavens, blasting Purson's upper mass and causing the abomination to screech in agony. But before the smoke could even clear, the grotesque flesh began to violently writhe and knit itself back together.
"Not done yet! Wicker Man: Cage of Scorching, Consuming Flames (Anti-Army B+)" the Irish Caster roared.
The earth violently ruptured. A towering, blazing giant constructed of cursed wood and straw erupted from the ground beneath the Demon God. Burning with the intensity of a miniature sun, the Wicker Man wrapped its massive arms around Purson and delivered a devastating, fiery punch that incinerated a huge chunk of the pillar into ash.
Yet, impossibly, Purson simply regenerated once again. A sickening vortex of corrupted flesh and spiritual blood replaced its lost mass in mere seconds. It was as if the entity was entirely immortal, feeding off the leylines of the city itself.
Suddenly, the ambient temperature in the plaza spiked to an unbearable, flesh-melting degree.
"Samadhi Through Transforming Flames (Anti-Unit Self EX)"
Invoking her unique Noble Phantasm, Kiyohime's physical form violently dissolved into a blinding inferno. Driven by pure, unadulterated fury, she transformed completely—her small, delicate frame expanding into a colossal, terrifying Oriental Fire Dragon.
With an earth-shattering roar, the draconic Kiyohime lunged forward. She tightly coiled her massive, serpentine body around the regenerating Demon God, breathing a point-blank, continuous torrent of white-hot dragon fire while viciously tearing into its cursed, immortal flesh with her searing claws and massive fangs.
Mash ground her teeth, her breathing ragged as the blue light of her shield flickered under the immense pressure. "It won't stop..."
They had been unleashing a relentless, catastrophic assault for thirty grueling minutes, yet Demon God Purson showed absolutely no signs of falling. No matter how much of its mass was incinerated, slashed, or pulverized, the grotesque flesh simply kept knitting back together, feeding off an endless supply of cursed mana.
Suddenly, the space around them warped violently.
Without warning, a powerful, forced teleportation spell swallowed Mash, Cú Chulainn, Siegfried, and Kiyohime. They were violently yanked from the battlefield, materializing heavily onto a high, ash-covered ridge several miles outside the city limits.
"What the—?!" Cú Chulainn barked, slamming his staff into the dirt to regain his footing.
Before any of them could process the abrupt shift in location, they looked back toward the burning ruins of Marseille.
From afar, they witnessed an impossible sight. The towering, immortal Demon God they had just spent half an hour desperately trying to kill suddenly froze in place. Without a terrifying roar, without a final struggle, the colossal entity instantly crumbled into a shower of black ash. It was as if Purson had simply been erased from the very fabric of the world in a fraction of a second.
A suffocating, dead silence fell over the wasteland.
Then, the earth violently shuddered. The ash-choked sky above Marseille rapidly bleached to a sickly, pale white.
A massive rift tore open in the heavens above the city. From within the tear, a colossal, dark-red magic circle materialized easily the size of Marseille itself. Ancient runes and symbols from the Age of Gods shimmered into existence, forming a complex, geometric pattern that pulsed like the dying heartbeat of the world.
The first second, the wind completely stopped.
The second second, the ground began to melt like wax under the oppressive heat of an artificial sun.
The third second, the air itself caught fire. Torrents of flame erupted from the sky and the earth simultaneously.
The fourth second, the sky split wide open, and the piercing, agonizing shriek of an unknown entity echoed from somewhere beyond the boundaries of reality.
The fifth second—
BOOOOOOM!!!
Absolute destruction. It was not mere magecraft, but before recorded history a cataclysmic phenomenon modern magi could only describe as "absolute anarchy." Everything within the circle's radius was utterly vaporized. Buildings, earth, stone, and lingering spirits all of it was annihilated. The entire city of Marseille was wiped out in an apocalyptic storm of black and red flames, snuffed out like a candle caught in a giant's breath.
An overwhelming shockwave of raw energy swept outward for miles. It flattened entire forests, shattered riverbeds, and violently tore at the local dimensional boundaries, forcing Mash and the others to brace themselves against the sheer, apocalyptic force of the blast.
The apocalyptic winds tore past the ridge, kicking up a blinding, suffocating storm of pulverized debris and black ash. When the howling wind finally died down, a heavy, deathly silence claimed the wasteland.
Marseille was gone.
There were no ruins. No rubble. No lingering fires. Only a perfectly smooth, miles-wide crater of glassed earth, glowing with a sickly, fading red heat.
"What... what the hell was that?!" Cú Chulainn growled, his grip tightening on his staff. "One second that bastard is regenerating from everything we throw at it, and the next, it turns to dust and the whole world explodes!"
"It was an active fail-safe."
The voice was cold, sharp, and cut through the falling ash like a knife.
Mash spun around. Stepping out from the lingering spatial distortions behind them was Fujimaru. His coat was stained with soot, and his eyes were dark with an unyielding, predatory intensity. In his right hand, the elegant cutlass, The Pentagram, still hummed with a faint, deadly blue light before he dismissed it into the void.
"Senpai!" Mash cried out, relief momentarily washing over her face before the crushing reality of the situation returned.
"I encountered the same mechanism in Lyon," Fujimaru explained, his voice entirely devoid of panic, though the grim tightness of his jaw betrayed his exhaustion. "The moment a Demon God Pillar is eradicated, a city-sized array activates. It's a dead-man's switch designed to wipe out the enemy along with the territory. They're trying to vaporize us the moment we win."
"So you were the one who killed Purson," Siegfried deduced, his golden eyes observing the smoking crater. "An instant death. And you forcefully relocated us right as it took effect."
"I tracked your coordinates through our contract and cast a forced spatial displacement the split second The Pentagram extinguished Purson's life force," Fujimaru said, stepping up to the edge of the ridge.
Mash fell to her knees in the ash, her hands covering her mouth. In a single battle, the warm, guiding light of Marie Antoinette. The true, horrifying cost of this war was finally bearing down upon them.
Fujimaru walked over to Mash, kneeling beside her. He didn't offer empty platitudes. He simply placed a firm, steadying hand on her armored shoulder.
"Mourn her when the sky is clear, Mash," he said, his voice a grounding anchor in the chaos. "She gave her lives so that we could continue fighting. If we stop here, we throw away everything she bought for us with her blood."
Mash sniffled, wiping her eyes fiercely. She looked up at him, her lilac eyes hardening with a renewed, desperate resolve. "Right. I understand, Senpai."
Fujimaru stood up, his gaze shifting toward the dark, turbulent horizon.
"Jeanne's team is currently besieging Thiers. If they defeat their Demon God Pillar without knowing about the fail-safe, the entire strike force will be vaporized in the aftermath," Fujimaru stated, his magical circuits already beginning to flare with a brilliant, azure light.
He turned to face the remaining Servants, his tone absolute, leaving zero room for negotiation.
"I have to intercept them. You four return to Vaucouleurs immediately. I will solve this as soon as possible. Then, we revise the plan."
Mash instinctively took a half-step forward, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her heavy shield. "Master, you can't go alone! I am your Shielder, I should—!"
"Master, you can't go alone! I am your Shielder, I should be by your side!" Mash pleaded, instinctively taking a half-step forward. Her knuckles were stark white as she gripped the heavy edge of her shield, her lilac eyes wide with a painful mix of fear and desperation.
"Mash."
Fujimaru's voice cut through the heavy, ash-filled air. The cold, predatory edge from the battle had completely vanished, replaced by a profound, grounding warmth. He stepped forward, gently but firmly placing his hand over her trembling fingers on the shield.
"I know," he said softly, looking directly into her eyes. "You are my Shielder. There is no one in this world I trust more to watch my back. But right now... they are seconds away from stepping on a landmine that will erase them from existence."
He gave her a brief, apologetic smile, his thumb gently brushing against the cold metal of her gauntlet.
"To reach Thiers in time, I have to push my velocity past the sound barrier. If I try to carry you with me, the magical strain of protecting us both from the atmospheric friction will slow me down. If I am delayed for even sixty seconds, we will lose them."
Mash bit her lip, the harsh, undeniable reality of his words fighting against the deep-seated anxiety in her chest.
"I am not leaving you behind because I don't need you," Fujimaru continued, his voice steady and deeply affectionate. "I'm leaving you here because I need to know you are safe. I need you to guide Siegfried, Cú Chulainn, and Kiyohime back to Vaucouleurs and hold the line. If I know my vanguard is secure, I can focus entirely on saving the others without looking over my shoulder. Can you do that for me, Mash?"
The frantic tightness in Mash's chest slowly untangled. He wasn't discarding her; he was trusting her with his peace of mind so he could carry the weight of saving their allies.
She swallowed hard, forcing her trembling hands to steady. Standing tall amidst the falling ash, she gave him a crisp, resolute nod.
"Understood... Please, Senpai. Do not do anything reckless. Return to us safely."
She swallowed hard, forcing her trembling hands to steady. Standing tall amidst the falling ash, she gave him a crisp, resolute nod.
"Understood... Please, Senpai. Do not do anything reckless. Return to us safely."
Siegfried placed a heavy, reassuring hand on Mash's shoulder, offering Fujimaru a solemn, deeply respectful bow. "Leave the retreat to us. We will secure the stronghold and await your command. May victory favor your blade."
Cú Chulainn hoisted his wooden staff over his shoulder, flashing a grim, knowing smirk. "Don't go dying on us, boss. We're running awfully short on friendly faces in this hellhole."
Kiyohime, her spiritual core severely exhausted but miraculously pulled from the brink of the blast alongside them at the absolute last microsecond, leaned weakly against her folded fan. Despite her battered state, she offered him a gentle, deeply devoted smile.
"I pray for your return."
"I promise."
With that final reassurance, the warmth in Fujimaru's eyes hardened back into absolute, unyielding resolve. The azure light surrounding his body erupted into a blinding aura. The air pressure violently inverted, and with a deafening CRACK that shattered the remaining glassed earth beneath his boots, he launched himself into the sky.
He broke the sound barrier in a fraction of a second, vanishing into the bruised heavens as a solitary, blinding streak of blue comet, leaving the desolate ruins of Marseille behind.
! Rider, Marie Antoinette has been defeated !
! Assassin, Charles-Henri Sanson has been defeated !