Chapter 716: Doomsday Companion, Evils of the World, Silver Wolf's Shyness!
The air above the Fuyuki River screamed.
It was a sound not of this world, a high-pitched keen of mana being compressed to its absolute limit.
Just as Ria unleashed the true name of her Noble Phantasm, the golden light of the sword of promised victory tore through the night sky.
At the same time, Joan of Arc Alter, hovering amidst the smoke and embers, finally stopped holding back. Her golden eyes burned with a mixture of sadistic delight and hidden sorrow.
"Gilles de Rais! Since you are so stubborn, clinging to a past that has long since turned to ash..."
She raised her black flag high, the fabric snapping violently in the gale. The flames of hatred, the La Pucelle in its darker aspect, surged upward, turning the dark river water into a boiling cauldron.
"I will have no choice but to burn you to nothingness! Die with your delusions!"
Below them, the colossal Sea Demon froze.
The towering monstrosity of tentacles and slime, which had been regenerating endlessly just moments ago, suddenly ceased its writhing.
Deep within the thick, fleshy fortress of the monster's core, Caster—Gilles de Rais—stared blankly upwards.
His bulging, fish-like eyes were fixed on the brilliant, blinding pillar of light emanating from Ria.
It was pure. It was overwhelming. It was holy.
In the instant the river water flash-boiled into steam, the outer layers of the demonic giant began to disintegrate. Every molecule of the terrifying construct was exposed to the scorching impact of the holy light.
"Roar!!!"
The Sea Demon let out an inarticulate, gurgling shriek that vibrated in the bones of everyone present. It was the sound of a nightmare ending.
Layer by layer, the flesh was incinerated. The regeneration factor could not keep up with the rate of destruction. The monster was being erased from existence.
Yet, amidst the destruction, Gilles de Rais remained silent.
He did not scream. He did not beg.
He simply stared at the dazzling destruction descending upon him. For him, time seemed to stretch into infinity. The scorching heat, the pain of his Spirit Origin unraveling—none of it mattered.
"..."
That's right.
His lips moved soundlessly.
That was indeed the light he had seen before.
Memories, long buried under layers of madness and depravity, surged to the surface. Had he not once been a knight? Had he not worn shining armor, pursuing that small back, that banner, as he galloped across the battlefields of Orleans?
The memory was so vivid, so intense, it washed away the stench of the river and the blood.
He was back there.
Reims Cathedral. The air smelled of incense and stone.
King Charles was finally holding his coronation ceremony. The stained-glass windows, masterpieces of art, filtered the afternoon sun into kaleidoscope beams.
One specific beam of light shone down.
It didn't fall on the King. It fell on her.
That light, accompanied by the ethereal hum of the choir, enveloped the village girl who had become a savior. It formed a pure white, brilliant blessing around Joan of Arc.
Gilles stood there in his memory, watching her profile. She was smiling. Not the twisted smile of the Avenger above him now, but the pure, hopeful smile of the Saint.
"Ah, yes… it is this light."
Gilles de Rais's face, distorted by the hideous modifications of the Caster class, softened.
He remembered it clearly even now.
Even if he had fallen into the deepest demonic path, staining his hands with the blood of children, defying God in his grief.
Even if his body was laden with unforgivable sin.
The memory of that day remained untarnished. It was etched into the very core of his soul, a diamond amidst the muck.
Even if his end was filled with humiliation and hatred, no matter how much he was scorned by history and the world.
Only the glory of the past remained in his heart. It was the one thing that could never be denied or overturned.
It was a treasure that even God, or fate, or the Counter Force could not take away.
Two streams of clear tears flowed down Gilles de Rais's grotesque cheeks, washing away the slime.
A sudden sense of hollowness filled him, but it wasn't painful. It was... peaceful.
What had he been confused about all this time? Why had he raged against the heavens?
He had lost her, yes. But he had also witnessed her.
Looking back, acknowledging everything, acknowledging that the light existed...
Wouldn't that be enough?
"I… what exactly am I…?"
He reached out a hand toward the golden light consuming him.
Before he could finish his murmur, the boiling power of Excalibur fully engulfed the core.
The light destroyed everything of him—his body, his madness, his Book of Prelati—taking him to the other side of the phenomenon, back to the Throne of Heroes where perhaps, just perhaps, he could sleep without dreaming.
High above, Joan of Arc Alter watched the spot where Gilles de Rais dissipated.
The fire in her eyes dimmed slightly. She lowered her flag.
"Idiot," she whispered, her voice lost in the wind.
Finally, she sighed deeply.
"If only I had known this would happen, I wouldn't have started. Burning trash is exhausting work."
Crack!!!
The sound was sharp, like a mirror shattering, but amplified a thousand times.
The air around the harbor fractured.
The Reality Marble—Ionioi Hetairoi—that Iskandar had deployed to trap the other combatants collapsed.
The desert sand vanished. The endless army disappeared.
Everyone returned to reality, standing on the concrete docks of Fuyuki Port.
Silence descended. It was a heavy, suffocating silence.
Standing on the port, there was only the female knight with golden hair fluttering in the wind, her silver armor gleaming under the moonlight.
And the black holy maiden, holding her tattered flag, looking bored.
There was no one else standing.
Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes.
Iskandar, the King of Conquerors.
Lancelot, the Mad Knight.
They were gone.
They hadn't just been defeated. They had been annihilated.
When Ria unleashed her Noble Phantasm, boosted by Ren's omnipotent mana and the Command Spells, the resulting energy output had simply erased them. Their Spirit Origins were shattered instantly, sending them back to the Grail before they could even utter a final word.
In the true sense of the word, not even a speck of dust remained of the great heroes.
Ren stood with his hands in his pockets, looking utterly relaxed, as if he had just taken a stroll rather than overseen the destruction of three top-tier Servants.
"It seems the Holy Grail War has ended here."
He turned his gaze slowly towards the shadows of the shipping containers.
Hiding there were the remaining Masters: Tohsaka Tokiomi, Waver Velvet, Kenneth El-Melloi Archibald, and the others.
Ren's eyes were cold, devoid of any empathy for them.
"Then, you lot are useless now."
He raised a finger.
Bang, bang, bang!
Three consecutive, wet explosions echoed through the silent port.
Waver Velvet let out a high-pitched shriek, scrambling backward on his hands and knees. Kenneth's face went white as a sheet.
They watched in absolute horror.
Nearby, Kiritsugu Emiya—the Magus Killer who had been hiding with a sniper rifle—suddenly erupted into a mist of blood.
Matou Kariya, who had been panting in agony nearby, detonated.
Uryu Ryunosuke, the serial killer, became nothing more than a stain on the concrete.
"Gulp!"
Kenneth swallowed deeply. His throat clicked audibly.
The Lord of the Clock Tower, the prodigy of the Archibald family, felt a warm sensation spreading through his trousers. Fear, primal and overwhelming, made him lose control of his bladder. He had lost all the elegance a magus should possess.
He realized, with terrifying clarity, that his magic circuits, his lineage, and his volumen hydrargyrum meant absolutely nothing before this man.
"Tsk."
Ren glanced at the remaining two—Waver and Kenneth—and waved his hand in disgust.
Space warped around them.
"Get lost."
In a blink, he teleported the two away, sending them far from Fuyuki. These two had nothing to do with him, and honestly, killing a terrified student and a broken lord felt beneath him.
Silence returned to the port.
To prevent Illya from seeing the gruesome aftermath, Ren snapped his fingers again.
A gentle breeze swept through the area. The blood, the gore, and the traces of the bodies vanished as if they had never existed. The concrete was clean.
Ria, the King of Knights, deactivated her helmet. Her emerald eyes sparkled as she looked at Ren.
She walked towards him, her gait graceful yet powerful.
"Master, I dedicate the glory of victory to you!"
She placed her hand on her chest and prepared to kneel on one knee, the highest salute of a knight to her liege.
But she never hit the ground.
A strange, invisible force lifted her. Her body floated towards Ren until she was pressed against him.
Ren's large, warm hand encircled her armored waist, pulling her flush against his chest.
Ria gasped softly, her cheeks flushing a light pink. "Master...?"
Ren smiled faintly, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her knees weak.
"Rather than the glory of victory," Ren whispered, his voice low and husky, "I want your kiss more."
!!!
Ria's heart quickened. It hammered against her ribs like a war drum.
She was the King of Britain. She was a warrior. But right now, she was just a woman captivated by the man who had given her everything.
Almost without hesitation, she discarded her kingly reserve.
She stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her gauntleted arms around his neck, and pressed her lips against Ren's.
It wasn't a chaste peck.
Ren deepened the kiss immediately, his tongue invading, tasting her, claiming her.
The live broadcast had already been shut down. There were no spectators from the Chat Group. Only their own people were here.
Ren became more unrestrained. His hand slid down from her waist, tracing the curve of her hip over the armor, pulling her even tighter until there was zero space between them.
!!!
This scene made Joan of Arc Alter choke on air.
"Hah?!" Jalter's face turned bright red. She looked away, then looked back, then looked away again. "Doing this right after a battle? Are you dogs in heat?!"
Despite her harsh words, she didn't leave. She stood there, arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently, though her eyes betrayed a hint of jealousy.
Illya, however, was purely curious.
The silver-haired girl tilted her head, her innocent red eyes blinking. She tugged on Irisviel's sleeve.
"Mom, what is Big Brother Ren doing to Big Sister Ria? Are they eating each other's mouths?"
Irisviel giggled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She gently rubbed Illya's head.
"This is Big Brother Ren's reward for Big Sister Ria because she did a good job."
"Oh, oh!" Illya's eyes lit up with realization. "Then Illya wants a reward too in the future! I can do a good job too!"
"Mhm, mhm, no problem."
Irisviel's lips curved into a smug, fox-like smile. She looked at Ren and Artoria with satisfaction.
'Excellent,' she thought. 'This brings the Einzbern family one step closer to absolute security.'
After a long, breathless minute, Ria reluctantly pulled away.
Her breathing was ragged, her face flushed a deep crimson that reached her ears. Her eyes were misty, the sharp gaze of the King completely melted into affection.
She rested her forehead against Ren's chest, trying to stabilize her breathing.
Joan of Arc Alter cleared her throat loudly. "Are you done? Can we focus?"
Jalter's eyes flickered, wanting to speak but hesitating.
Ria composed herself, though she didn't step away from Ren's embrace. She turned her head slightly. "Ren, is the Holy Grail…"
"The Holy Grail is here."
With a casual wave of Ren's hand, the air rippled.
A golden chalice, ornate and heavy, appeared in the air.
However, it wasn't the holy relic one would expect.
Irisviel curiously leaned over, her homunculus instincts tingling. "Can the Holy Grail really grant any wish? The Einzberns have sought this for centuries."
Ren stared at the floating cup for a moment. His expression shifted from lover to judge.
He sneered. "Other Holy Grails might, but this one? This one definitely can't."
He tossed the Holy Grail into mid-air, spinning it like a toy.
Suddenly, the gold tarnished.
A thick, viscous black substance gushed out from the rim of the cup. It didn't flow like water; it moved like sludge, heavy with malice and curse.
"What is that?!"
Ria gasped. "Such a dark and evil aura! It feels like... pure hatred!"
She instinctively gripped the invisible sword in her hand, stepping in front of Ren to shield him.
Joan of Arc Alter did the same, her flag igniting with black flames. "That stench... it's worse than the French court."
"Be careful, Master! That thing is very dangerous."
"Don't worry. What's inside can't get out."
Ren patted their shoulders, his touch calming their tension. He signaled them to relax.
If one looked closely, the black mud—All the World's Evil—didn't drip onto the ground at all. It was trapped within an invisible, cubic barrier in mid-air, churning and boiling against the constraints Ren had placed.
Suddenly, the mechanical sound of the System chimed in everyone's ears.
[Ding! Detecting that group member Artoria has come into contact with Abnormal Doomsday factors. Doomsday Companion activated!]
[Doomsday Companion]: Three-person Trip
[Companion Duration]: 1 day
[Companions]: Ren, Kiana, Silver Wolf
[Companion Mission]: Eliminate the Evils of This World
And then, a second, more ominous notification followed.
[Companion Doomsday]: Doomsday Termination
[Companion Duration]: Unlimited
[Companions]: Unlimited
[Companion Mission]: Eliminate the source of the Evils of This World.
The air shimmered with digital pixels.
"Tsk. I didn't expect you to encounter Doomsday factors while playing a fake Battle Royale."
A bored, slightly nasal voice cut through the tension.
Silver Wolf appeared almost instantly, materializing from a cloud of digital cubes.
She was dressed in her usual punk-gamer outfit, blowing a bubble of gum. With her hands in her pockets, her cool gray eyes swept over Irisviel, Ria, and the bubbling Grail mud.
She looked at the corrupted Grail like one would look at a bug in code.
"Ren, you really know how to enjoy yourself," she drawled, popping her gum.
Her gaze drifted from the mud to the women surrounding Ren.
First Ria, still flushed. Then Jalter. Then Irisviel.
Finally, her gaze lingered on the small silver-haired girl holding Ren's hand.
Silver Wolf raised an eyebrow. "You even have a version 5.0 child? That was fast. Did you skip the loading screen?"
"Child? What child?!"
Another voice, energetic and panicked, shouted from the sky.
A white blur crashed down next to them.
Kiana Kaslana had just crossed over. She stumbled, regaining her balance, and immediately locked onto Silver Wolf's words.
Her blue eyes widened in shock as she stared at Illya, then at Ren.
"Ren's child?!!!" Kiana shrieked, grabbing her head. "No way! I was only gone for a few days! How did you make a kid that big already?!"
Thump!
"Ow!"
Kiana clutched her forehead, which had been flicked hard.
Ren withdrew his hand, looking exasperated. "What are you thinking, you tuna? She's Illya. Illyasviel von Einzbern. Not my daughter."
"Oh..." Kiana rubbed her forehead, sticking out her tongue. "Tehe. My bad."
Illya looked curiously at the two beautiful older sisters who had suddenly appeared from thin air.
"Big Brother Ren, who are they? Are they your other rewards?"
Ren chuckled. He reached out and wrapped his arms around the waists of the two newcomers—Kiana on his left, Silver Wolf on his right.
"Kiana. Silver Wolf. They are my girlfriends. Right?"
He squeezed their waists gently, casting a playful, challenging glance at Silver Wolf.
"..."
Silver Wolf froze. Her cool gamer persona cracked.
A visible blush crept up her neck, turning her ears a bright, burning red.
She stared at him for a moment, her mouth opening and closing. She wanted to deliver a sharp retort, to call him an idiot, to log out.
But she didn't refute him.
She turned her head away aggressively, burying her face in her scarf to hide the flush.
"...Hmph!"
With ears burning red, she pointed a trembling finger at the black mud floating in the air, desperate to change the subject.
"Hurry up and deal with the doomsday."
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