The dazzling sun and swirling sand filled the sky.
The environment shifted instantly, forcing everyone to squint and struggle to adapt—even Servants were not exempt.
But not Gilgamesh.
Whether out of the majesty of a king or respect for his opponent, he forced his eyes open. Even as sand irritated them to the point of tears, he endured, pretending nothing had happened.
I, the most ancient king Gilgamesh, absolutely do not blink!
Cough.
Back to the matter at hand.
He found himself strangely approving of the other king in the distance. Though he had once dismissed all kings but himself as mere pretenders, after observing Iskandar's ambition to conquer and his determination to claim all lands, Gilgamesh could not deny the man's rightful claim to the title of Overlord.
The Holy Grail War, he had initially expected to be boring.
But whether it was the King of Conquerors, King Arthur, or that uneducated Roman, they had all succeeded in making him feel… excited.
"Feel honored, mongrel. You will be the first to be punished by the king. As the first of this feast, do not let me down," Gilgamesh announced with a confident smile.
Iskandar, fueled by the desire to dominate, bristled with excitement.
"True, but Archer, it's too early to declare victory. You'll regret it. Letting me see your fine wine and treasure trove will be your greatest mistake! Watch—I'll take it all with my unparalleled army!" Iskandar laughed, mounting his warhorse and raising his legendary sword high.
A storm of sand and scorching wind answered the call, descending from the edge of time and space to converge upon this shared battlefield.
Longings and heroic spirits surged, their collective presence undeniable—even the planets themselves seemed powerless to block them.
The second time witnessing the [King's Army], Gilgamesh no longer felt surprise at the spectacle of thousands of soldiers. Yet the sense of awe, the overwhelming magnitude of their unity, remained.
"The enemy is the invincible Hero King, our perfect opponent! Show him the might of our Heroic Spirit!"
A roar erupted, shaking heaven and earth, as Iskandar led the charge.
On the other side, Gilgamesh stood unmoved. Cold, arrogant, a presence that alone pressed down upon everything and everyone.
"Come, Lord of the Overlords. Learn what it means to be a true king—"
He raised a golden key: the Sword of Separation, EA.
With a gentle turn, it could rend worlds, undo barriers, annihilate reality. A Noble Phantasm that truly tore the cosmos apart. Victory was guaranteed the moment it began.
Against this, Iskandar's defeat was inevitable.
"No suspense… how boring. Let me at least join a little," came a voice.
Arthur's.
Gilgamesh tensed immediately, searching, but found nothing. Arthur was indeed absent.
Yet absence did not mean helplessness. Outside the barrier, Arthur could not directly act—but through I Am Britain and Merlin's clairvoyance, he could see and influence indirectly.
"Let this suffice for now. Gilgamesh, your sight shall be blinded, and your body weakened."
"You—"
Gilgamesh's vision went dark. His strength fled; the golden key slipped from his grasp, swept away by a hurricane, and blocked magically from retrieval.
When his senses returned, Iskandar's army had already reached him. Gilgamesh's immediate reaction: unleash the [Treasures of the King]. A torrent of weapons to repel the charge.
But that was not the end.
The contract that had granted him magic power through Tōsaka Tokiomi was severed. Tokiomi was dead.
"Tsk… even this, you cannot prevent," Gilgamesh ground out, helpless.
Within the barrier, though, loss of a Master did not immediately end him. His A-rank [Independent Action] allowed him to operate independently, minimizing the impact. Yet impact remained. Attributes had been reduced, his power partially drained.
"What's wrong, Archer? You don't look well," Iskandar remarked, perceptive as ever.
Gilgamesh did not respond—not from reluctance, but inability. Arthur had blessed him with [Divine Power], suppressing his will, restraining even speech. Under this continuous weakening, the war's momentum began to tilt.
Meanwhile, Arthur watched, orchestrating the Lesser Holy Grail's functions with careful precision—a complex feat executed effortlessly, astonishing even Kayneth.
"Feeling sorry for him, Kayneth?"
"No, Your Majesty. Mixed feelings, perhaps," Kayneth replied thoughtfully. "For magi like us, pursuing the Root is everything. Magic is a tool, refined constantly. But Master Tōsaka truly believed I would be drawn to magecraft itself."
-End Chapter-
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