The golden torrent of light clashed with the [Everlasting Fourth Protection], and the impact drowned out all sound.
Watching cracks begin to spread across the defensive layer she had crafted, Think's heart wavered.
The [Everlasting Fourth Protection]—this was her creation.
For twenty-four years since the fall of the old capital, she had devoted herself to its development. Apart from managing the elves' broader strategy, she had sacrificed nearly everything for this one technique. No one understood its limits better than her, and no one had greater faith in it.
Yet Arthur's strike had not only shattered the restraints of the [First Protection of One Movement], it had even cracked the [Everlasting Fourth Protection].
Its destructive power exceeded her calculations by far.
An attack of this magnitude—if unleashed even on the outskirts of the elves' capital—would devastate the city more thoroughly than when the old capital was destroyed.
The elves had no [Fourth Protection] to shield them.
If their city fell, the fate awaiting her seemed clear enough.
At best, the elves would be annihilated, and she, stripped of worth, would be reduced to slavery. If he chose death instead, there would be no escape.
But someone with this kind of power—he had to belong to a superior race. And even if not, strength of this level made little difference.
So why had such a being come here, to the elves of all places—a race so diminished they were hardly more than a backwater tribe?
The answer could only be one thing.
Slaves.
Arthur's face flashed in her mind, and in that instant, Think thought, If the tribe is destroyed… so what?
Becoming a slave to this beautiful man wouldn't be so bad. No—just imagining being whipped and trampled underfoot by him sent a thrill through her chest.
Yes. As the last surviving elf, surely she deserved to be treated kindly.
No—gentleness wasn't necessary. Let him be cruel, let him be merciless. That would be even better!
Thus did the Flower Crown Lord—the pride of the elves, revered for her wisdom and genius—lose herself completely at the sight of Arthur's face.
After an unknown span of time, the golden torrent rivaling the Flügel's [Sky Strike] finally subsided. Having withstood it by relying on the [Everlasting Fourth Protection], Think looked around in astonishment.
What she saw was not the devastation of her people, but the opposite.
Except for the interior of her hut, everything else was untouched.
Her mansion's structure remained intact.
"This—" Think was left speechless.
"What's so surprising? If the elves can develop defensive techniques, why should it surprise you that I wield one equal—or greater?" Arthur advanced, stepping onto her chest to pin her down. "The [Eternal Overlord's Court] can shield an entire nation. It's a barrier said to be unbreakable, one that can capture even light and concepts themselves."
This barrier was the reward for Britannia's victory over Alaya, one of the suppressors of the Type-Moon world—proof that they had defeated every Servant that once invaded their land.
It was the very foundation that allowed Britain to sever itself completely from the interference of the Counter Force.
Naturally, its worth and strength were countless times greater than a single genius's creation in the span of twenty-four years.
Even if Arthur unleashed the full might of Excalibur, he doubted it could break through.
Now, bound to the Flower Crown Lord's mansion, the [Eternal Overlord's Court] had turned the interior into a sealed alien world—one that arguably boasted greater defenses than the planet itself.
"You're too arrogant, Miss Long-Ears." Arthur chuckled, his tone mocking. "As one of the races active in this war, the elves' pride is expected. Against weaker races like humans, you look down on them. Against stronger foes—you still dare to posture? What gives you that right?"
Think opened her mouth, then forced a smile even as she lay pinned beneath him.
"I think this is a misunderstanding. We elves never show arrogance before the strong. As you said, twenty-four years have given us ample time to reflect."
"My misunderstanding?" Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Then explain the expression on your face."
"…?"
"That smile of yours—it disgusts me. The self-righteous kind. The kind that assumes you're too valuable to be killed." His gaze turned cold.
The sharpness made her flinch, but Arthur's next words carried weight enough to freeze her breath.
"Indeed, you do have value. I've thought about this for some time. This war has dragged on for countless years, and yet… has no one truly sought to end it? But then I saw you, and I realized. Yes. Such a one exists. The one who will end the war has appeared before me."
"…In your eyes, that person is me?" Think asked with a strained smile.
He noticed. Of course he noticed.
Her identity, her schemes—if he had the intelligence, it was inevitable he'd draw such conclusions.
But admitting it outright was another matter. Better to test the waters first.
"We are ranked seventh. Twenty-four years ago, we suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of a single Flügel. To speak of ending the war now… isn't that reaching too far?" Think replied bitterly.
Impossible?
Of course it was possible.
"The dwarves were attacked not long ago. I don't need to repeat that much."
"Indeed."
"But do you truly think their base was just a weapons depot? Their leader, if I recall correctly… Ronnie Draunir, yes. He remembered their humiliating defeat of twenty-four years ago all too well. He studied the [First Protection of One Movement], the [Second Protection of Immobility], the [Third Protection of Eternity], and even the [Fourth Protection of Longevity] I just witnessed. He speculated on a weapon equal to the dwarves' [Marrow Explosion]—a large-scale destructive technique born of elven hands." Arthur's voice was deliberate, unhurried.
The records Arthur had acquired from the dwarves revealed nothing of such a weapon.
But what they did contain was meticulous detail of that old war—the elves' desperate defense of their capital, and how they turned their home into a trap that dealt staggering losses to the dwarves.
Their resolve and strategy had been extraordinary.
Yet not enough.
Not nearly enough to justify Think Nirvalen's declaration, made twenty-four years ago, that the dwarves would be utterly defeated.
There had to be more. Something decisive.
Considering the goblins' deployment and the elves' movements during that battle, all signs pointed to one conclusion.
A superweapon.
A weapon that could strike across the entire goblin host and guarantee their annihilation.
The possible fifth "protection."
At that moment, Think's expression faltered. The truth of it surfaced in her mind—
the [Void Zero Protection].
-End Chapter-
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