"..."
Their gazes never wavered. They both knew that when facing a powerful opponent, attacking without thought meant defeat.
In terms of endurance, no one could compare to Est. As a sword, her battles had always been against other weapons. While there were bodies so strong that blades could hardly pierce them, as a sword still growing, she grew alongside her master.
As long as Yuki had yet to reach his limit, she would continue to grow. Now she was far more than she had been in her own world. Thanks to the "blessings" of the Demon King, she had adapted to the point of being able to destroy divine bodies, reaching a breaking point where she was almost capable of fighting the bodies of the Overlords.
If it were not for the fact that she still carried a destiny, Est could fight them—of course, only for a short time. Chaos was no joke.
But as a weapon, this was a trial she had to overcome...
All of that was secondary. Right now, she stood before a Goddess.
"I am Rider, Quetzalcoatl... what is your name, little one? You shouldn't be 'Eve,' right?"
As a Goddess who had existed long before humans, Quetzalcoatl could ignore almost all of the effects Adam and Eve had on Gods. Of course, an incomplete "Eve" like Est was no threat—at least not without Adam.
"Est... [Terminus Est]...."
"Ara?"
Quetzalcoatl had never heard of her. She was also intrigued by the language Est had just spoken.
It was ancient, yet complex. In fact, Est's true name was impossible for humans to pronounce. As a Goddess, Quetzalcoatl could hear it, but it still felt strange.
"You are not from this world. You are a 'Foreigner'..."
Something was wrong with Genesis. Est's class confirmed it. What made it even stranger was that Adam and Eve were natives created in this world.
Why was a Foreigner part of Genesis?
It was not unusual for beings from outside this world to appear in mythology. Quetzalcoatl herself was proof of that, just like the Gods of Olympus.
Still, they were Gods. Adam, on the other hand, was created by the Creator God. There should not have been someone from outside this world at his side.
"What is a Foreigner doing with the firstborn?"
"Est is the master's sword...."
"Sword?"
"Yes... I am his Contracted Spirit...."
Bam
Est said no more and leapt forward. She extended her fingers. Quetzalcoatl had already learned her lesson and did not dare take the attack head-on, dodging backward instead.
Bam
A small crater formed, but that did not stop Est from continuing her assault.
Because she was no lesser than the Sword of the End. She had been by his side from the very beginning...
"Est is the master's steel, his weapon, his companion..."
That was why Est hesitated no longer. She lunged at her enemy, but unfortunately, Quetzalcoatl was far too fast for Est to land a hit.
Instead, she dodged with ease and kept her distance. Facing an adversary whose strength she did not yet understand, Quetzalcoatl did not attack right away...
But Est did not give up. If she could not get close, there were other ways.
"I am his victory!"
Skreeeee
Lightning began to form around Est. She raised her hand and brought it down with force...
Shiiiiii
A powerful sword strike was released. Quetzalcoatl dodged agilely, flipping backward. The slash was deep, cleaving through the ground and everything in its path...
"This little one..."
Cold sweat ran down Quetzalcoatl's back. The cut left a massive scar in the ground, and she had no doubt that such power could damage her body. Before Est, her divine body was as fragile as that of a mortal...
"Ha! Ha!"
Est continued swinging her arms, sword slashes firing off in rapid succession.
Even so, it was not enough. Quetzalcoatl was a master of close combat. Her body was extremely flexible, allowing her to evade every single slash.
Skreeeeee
This only caused Est's energy to continue rising...
"Heee~ looks like it's my turn. Get ready, this Onee-san is coming~..."
Quetzalcoatl was not about to stand idle while Est gathered energy. She leapt forward, and an ancient Aztec sword appeared in her hand.
Although it was dishonorable to use weapons against an unarmed opponent, that did not matter with Est. She herself was a weapon. Agile as a cat, Quetzalcoatl moved gracefully, closed the distance to the loli, and struck with force. As expected, Quetzalcoatl's speed far surpassed Est's, leaving her unable to react—but she did not need to.
"What—!?"
The moment the Aztec sword was about to strike Est's small body, it stopped. Frozen in midair, it began to tremble.
The Macuahuitl was an ancient Aztec sword. Unlike the weapons of other Heroic Spirits, however, it was not a Noble Phantasm. At best, it was considered a fine sword from antiquity...
As such, it had no rank. And as a mace-like sword, it had to obey its queen...
Quetzalcoatl stared in shock as her weapon began to tremble in fear.
This was also the reason Est was the nemesis of all Sabers in this war. All swords of rank A and below were incapable of being wielded against her.
BOOM
Est raised her hand once more, and the Macuahuitl shattered into pieces.
At such close range, receiving a sword strike would be nearly impossible to dodge. Even so, Quetzalcoatl abandoned her weapon without hesitation and leapt away again.
"Ara~? What's going on?"
Quetzalcoatl looked at the palm of the hand that had wielded the Macuahuitl. A deep cut ran across it.
Blinking coquettishly, she tilted her head. She could not understand what had just happened.
Meanwhile, in the crystal tower, using the Command Spell, seven Servants answered Jeanne's call.
"Hahahaha, this smell— I can sense it! It's the stench of oppressors! Hahaha!"
The first to appear was a giant over two meters tall. He spread his arms wide and turned his head.
The crystal tower was far too conspicuous to miss, especially for a Berserker like Spartacus, who had led an entire rebellion in life.
The majestic crystal tower, combined with the inexplicable tremor coursing through his body, was enough for Spartacus to know that this was the enemy of his rebellion.
"Oppressors must die! I will destroy the oppressors!! Hahahaha!"
"Wait—!"
Before Jeanne could finish, Spartacus had already charged toward the crystal tower. His massive body and weight made the ground quake with every step...
"Ohhh! So I have been summoned to witness the monster among monsters, like the mythological heroes of this wondrous land. Haaa~ my body trembles, my skin crawls~ uff, this is incredible. Truly marvelous. To face the very father of us all—my soul is burning! This is gold, it is precious~"
The second to appear had his body twist like a worm, trembling—whether from the aura of the father of humanity or from the excitement of witnessing something never before seen.
"Red Caster... you."
"Say no more, Ruler! I know exactly what you mean. My writer's soul is ablaze! The untold story, the tale never written— I, William Shakespeare, swear upon my name that I shall write of what happens today and spread it across the world! Let this battle be witnessed by all humanity. It will be the greatest story of all!"
"Uh, no, that's not what I meant."
To begin with, what good would it do for someone to recount what happened today?
Much less write it down. If they failed to defeat the monster, there would be no humanity left to read it.
"No? Then why did you summon me, Ruler?"
"Of course, to borrow your strength!"
"Hahaha, you must be joking, Ruler. I'm just a simple writer. I have no combat power."
Though he had been summoned to this war as a Caster, as a writer who ascended to the Throne of Heroes through the fame of his tragic tales, William Shakespeare was undoubtedly the weakest among the Servants. Asking him to fight Original Sin was like asking a cockroach to stop a speeding truck.
"I'm talking about your Noble Phantasm. I know very well that you possess that power."
Jeanne was not fooled. She knew exactly what William Shakespeare was capable of.
First Folio was William Shakespeare's Noble Phantasm—his definitive work. Depending on the circumstances, its effects could vary when invoked. It caused no physical damage, yet it was the worst possible thing for certain Heroic Spirits to face.
In short, there were no heroes who did not carry some form of guilt or regret.
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