Chapter 100: Gold and the Lion · Variation
The time returns to several minutes prior.
Richard gripped his single sword and looked up at the sky.
From golden rifts hanging high in the heavens, thrusts like divine thunder descended. It was the judgment of a demigod. Each strike's power was unmistakable, hurled with the pitiless intent to kill him.
However, before the judgment could fall, the Golden Saber accurately captured the gaps between every strike. Moving at a speed invisible to the naked eye, he stepped between the bolts of divine thunder; the shrill whistle of Noble Phantasms grazed the Saber's body, striking only empty air.
Simultaneously, several other rays of light deflected with the sound of clashing metal amidst this volley, plunging into the ground a beat late.
Passing through this rain of blades, Richard faced the strongest Heroic Spirit, who had drawn slightly closer. Standing before him was Archer, Gilgamesh.
He stood atop the roof of a church near the hospital, arms crossed. Seeing Richard neutralize the barrage from the [Gate of Babylon], his expression grew colder.
"Ah King, we have matters to attend to. Would you mind letting us pass?"
"What concern is that of mine? I believe I already told you to 'vanish,' mongrel. To not comply is already insolence—and yet you dare make demands of me?" The cold voice drifted down from on high.
"Apologies, apologies. Suddenly being told I must be 'erased from the world' and such... I simply couldn't process it."
Richard scratched his head, looking sheepish. That said, he had no intention of committing suicide; instead, he threw out a hand and thought to himself:
—'Haha, well, there's no helping it then.'
As for why this Heroic Spirit, who was clearly a King from somewhere, was so unreasonable—who cared?
Richard flashed a smile that was somewhere between helpless and cheerful... and then, he tightened his grip on the longsword in his hand.
Ayaka had already hidden inside the church. Sigma and Assassin had headed for the hospital first. He could act with full force without worrying about caught-up allies.
The King of Heroes gave a cold snort. Immediately after, he spoke, dripping with killing intent: "To be such a fool that you cannot even process your own end is truly pitiable. Very well, I shall personally grant you the glory of becoming rust."
That said—Gilgamesh increased the number of gates to the hundreds.
The countless spatial gates connected to the [King's Treasure] were each batteries that would fire lethal weapons known as Noble Phantasms; it looked as if golden distortions were filling the night sky.
Richard did not respond with words. Instead, as the countless Noble Phantasms began to swarm forth, he drew the sword in his hand.
Or rather, he performed the motion of drawing it.
The blade was instantly filled with a light that was also golden, beginning to shine violently. Richard made a single high-speed evasive maneuver, reducing the Noble Phantasms that might hit him from hundreds to mere dozens, and then swung his hand.
Light spread outward, swallowing all the Noble Phantasms in front of him, carving a trail from left to right that replaced the dark night with an aurora.
Even Gilgamesh had to release more Noble Phantasms just to prevent this flash from reaching him.
Richard, standing almost exactly where he started, showed a smile: "A truly splendid offensive! I almost thought I was going to look quite unseemly. Being able to surprise you like this is all thanks to a gift from my dear friend. To think that even while not present, he continues to help me—I am truly moved right now!"
The silver light on the longsword in Richard's hand was cold and sharp.
If a craftsman were present, their eyes would bulge to find that this was a top-tier armament—rather, this was fundamentally [Durandal], the holy sword famous throughout the world. Furthermore, it was a weapon Richard could never have obtained in his original life.
"Friend?"
It seemed this piqued the King of Heroes' interest. He shifted his gaze slightly, scanning the longsword in Richard's hand. Then, he looked away with a face full of contempt, as if even a second glance were a waste of time.
"Ridiculous. That is nothing but a fake."
Though it looked in every way like the battle would continue, Gilgamesh abruptly halted the distortion of the gates and suddenly said:
"I shall allow you a brief glimpse of the real thing. Show me your gratitude, mongrel. This cannot even be called the real thing... it is the prototype that surpasses the original."
A single void opened beside the Golden King, and a longsword was exhaled from within. This longsword was identical in appearance to the one in Richard's hand.
Even Richard's eyes widened in wonder.
"To think you could be satisfied with a mere fake of Durandal. It seems you cannot even play the part of a clown. I possess a hundred, a thousand such Noble Phantasms of the same grade, yet you care for a worthless counterfeit?"
Though meeting an old friend should have improved his mood, for some reason, Gilgamesh's temper tilted toward the negative. With a surplus of energy that was exactly thirty percent more aggressive, he chided:
"Counterfeits can achieve nothing, nor can they create any utility. Is this a joke, mongrel? To call yourself a friend to such a level of fakery... you have truly disappointed this King."
Before the words had even finished falling, a golden torrent of light swallowed the Golden King. After the flash vanished, the King of Heroes was revealed within; he had been knocked off the roof and sent flying backward, but in front of his arms stood a nameless, prana-filled shield. Naturally, he was unharmed.
"Now, that is where you are wrong, King! I watched the process of it being made with my own eyes, and I still sincerely think that friend of mine is incredible. While the value of the original is higher, a friend's sentiment is priceless. And besides—"
Richard smiled as he lifted the longsword, closing in on the Golden King:
"—Whichever one I use, doesn't it make no difference?"
Although the genuine Durandal from a moment ago had also been blown away by the pillar of light, Richard ignored it entirely and charged right past the weapon.
After all—the tools his friend prepared for him were already items that could boost his combat power to the limit. Truth or falsehood is but a name; at this moment... if it could assist Richard in advancing through a gap that was originally almost despairing, it was the best gift possible.
Richard, in high spirits once again, thanked his friend and swung a new arc of brilliance.
With just that, the overwhelming barrage of Noble Phantasms was swept aside in large quantities, allowing Richard to easily find a gap. Richard lunged forward, using the "Partners" within his Spirit Foundation to help his magic-enhanced body turn in mid-air, tracing an eerie footwork that grazed past Gilgamesh.
But this strike was parried by Gilgamesh moving the shield floating beside him.
Gilgamesh did not land like Richard; he remained suspended in the air, maintaining his superiority from above.
"You... I see. Could you be the First Forsaker, that King of Heroes?"
Almost as Richard asked this question, countless Noble Phantasms continued to pour down. But relying on the magnificent brilliance and a velocity that had progressed beyond the visible, he continued to swing his blade while remaining alive and unscathed.
It was like walking a tightrope. The difference was that between the grand, sweeping motions and the precise, cautious ultra-high-speed evasions, the Saberman stepped out a perfectly balanced dance.
Gilgamesh answered by increasing the number of treasury gates once more.
"I am honored! To be able to meet a King like you, and even engage in such a battle—I have truly seen the greatness of the Holy Grail War! However, insulting my friend is another matter entirely. I really cannot let that slide so easily!"
And so, Saber continued to speak to himself. Accompanied by a dauntless passion...
Saber hooked his lips into a loud, reckless smile.
"Then, may I try my hand at the reckless act of working hard to make you exit? Though I expect I'll mostly likely fail!"
This time, the opening was slightly larger than before.
Griping the hilt with both hands and raising it above his forehead, the sword in Richard's hand erupted into an unprecedented, dazzling radiance in the next instant.
"[Excalibur (The Ever-Distant Sword of Victory)]!"
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