"Darnic, since the Red Faction intends to launch an all-out assault on the Fortress of Millennia, then let them come."
"The Greater Grail requires the souls of four more Servants to activate. Once we defeat the remaining four Servants of the Red Faction, the Holy Grail War will be over... After that, the omnipotent wishing device shall be the stage I promised you all."
Rider of Red—Achilles—and Assassin of Black—Jack the Ripper—one had their Servant Core torn out by Selene, the other was purified. Their Servant souls had already been reclaimed by the Greater Grail. Together with the eventual sacrifice of Berserker of Black—Spartacus—only four remained.
The souls of Servants who were defeated or lost their Masters and could no longer maintain their existence would be absorbed by the Greater Grail, buried deep beneath the Fortress of Millennia, to await the conclusion of the Holy Grail War.
When the war reached its end, the collected Servant souls would trigger the final phase of the Greater Grail's ritual—ushering forth a miracle.
As for who would ultimately claim the right to use this omnipotent wishing device, Selene cared little.
Selene would fulfill her promise—to help the Yggdmillennia clan achieve final victory in the Romanian Holy Grail War.
But afterward, even if Darnic and his kin slaughtered one another for that single wish, it would have nothing to do with her.
"Perhaps, within the next day or two, the Yggdmillennia clan shall win this Holy Grail War."
"Darnic, join my generals and prepare to welcome our guests from the Red Faction." With that, Selene directly ended her communication with Darnic through the Complete Book of the World.
Gazing at the airborne fortress rapidly approaching Trifas, Selene's lips curved into a faint smile.
Sebas, you'll definitely love its schematics!
"Your Divine Majesty, since your Black Faction already has its own strategy, I'll take my leave. As the arbitrator, I cannot take part in your battle."
Standing beside her on the rooftop, Jeanne hastily waved her hands after overhearing Selene's conversation with Darnic. "The Master of the Red Faction—that priest, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada—is inside that fortress. I must find a way in. I'll go on ahead!"
Watching Jeanne's hurried retreating figure, Selene guessed she must have received another divine revelation. Selene, however, made no comment and remained where she stood.
"Still, I suppose the common folk must be astonished by now..."
With the complete disappearance of Jack the Ripper's dark mist Reality Marble, the roaring explosions and structural damage caused by Selene had already drawn massive attention from ordinary civilians.
Countless residents of Sighișoara poured out of their homes and into the streets, only to find an enormous 'UFO' hovering in the heavens.
Selene shook her head at the sight. "This rule of secrecy surrounding supernatural powers... the way it divides society—it's quite troublesome."
All supernatural forces, including magecraft, were bound by an ancient, unspoken law of secrecy—never to be revealed before ordinary people.
Selene didn't bother to judge whether this was good or bad. It depended on circumstances and necessity. Every approach had its rationale.
Suddenly—
"I must say, I didn't expect the Red Faction to send a mere pen-pusher to stall me." Selene's voice cut through the air.
"Self-preservation is your only reliance, is it not?" Hands clasped behind her back, she turned toward the green figure awkwardly leaping between rooftops.
"Oh, yes, indeed, Your Divine Majesty! The world praises you! To meet you in person fills me with such joy—ah, my inspiration overflows!"
...
Trifas, within the Fortress of Millennia's grand hall.
"But, Your Majesty... Your Majesty, I still believe we should be cautious..." Despite Selene's rejection of his proposal to use a Command Spell for teleportation, Darnic's tone betrayed unease before the Red Faction's reckless gamble.
"Enough, Darnic. This is what war is." Interrupting Darnic's hesitation, Lancer of Black—Vlad III—stepped forward.
Darnic's current state of mind could be summed up simply: those with shoes fear those who go barefoot.
Stepping closer to the holographic projection of the Complete Book of the World in the great hall, Vlad continued, "In war, there will always be various obstacles that interfere with established plans."
"Though the Red Faction took advantage of Her Majesty's temporary absence to launch a surprise assault on our fortress—a fine move, and their trump card truly worthy of being called their final ace..."
On the projection, a colossal airborne garden came into view—an architectural marvel composed of meticulously arranged floating islands of greenery, connected by marble platforms and pillars. At its center stood an inverted tower reaching toward the heavens, its crimson domed crown shining like a royal diadem.
Surrounding it were eleven massive black panels, each over twenty meters long, etched with impossibly intricate arrays of divine-era anti-intrusion magic.
"...But Darnic, don't forget—our side possesses a significant advantage in numbers."
As he spoke, behind Vlad materialized the Servants of the Black Faction: Saber—Siegfried, Archer—Chiron, Berserker—Frankenstein, and Caster—Avicebron. Each took form within the hall, their spiritual bodies stabilizing.
The moment Chiron stepped inside, he immediately sensed several powerful presences emanating from unseen locations—fierce and unrestrained, as though intentionally announcing their existence. His steps slowed slightly, eyes flicking toward the second platform of the hall. Despite the space being vast and empty, no guards or homunculi attendants stood there.
Chiron frowned. "Have they entered spirit form?"
"This is undoubtedly an extraordinary existence... beyond standard classification," murmured Avicebron from behind Vlad. Though his expertise lay in golemcraft, he could not deny the awe-inspiring mystery surrounding the airborne citadel.
"That garden itself must be a first-rate magical temple. Earlier, when the Complete Book of the World suddenly lost precise tracking of the Red Faction, it was likely because they had hidden themselves within that structure."
Avicebron knew his own limitations. Even with infinite time, he could never hope to construct such a creation.
"Then, Caster, is the Royal Crown · the Light of Wisdom ready?" Vlad asked.
"It has already been placed into the core. That special homunculus captured and experimented on by Her Majesty adapted perfectly to the Royal Crown · the Light of Wisdom's magical requirements." Avicebron nodded.
"My lord... that airborne fortress has suddenly increased its speed. Based on our estimates, it will reach our position by midnight. It seems they've used a Command Spell."
Watching the projection intently, Darnic's face darkened.
"So, they've lost their patience," Vlad muttered coldly, turning toward the seemingly empty second platform above. "Then, generals, it's time to prepare for battle."
"Generals? What generals?" Caules exchanged a puzzled glance with his sister, Fiore.
The moment Vlad's words fell, immense quantities of spirit particles surged together. A brilliant violet-red radiance filled the hall as several towering figures materialized.
The first to enter their sight were massive figures clad in elaborately forged power armor, each design distinct and adorned with intricate engravings.
Every Servant of the Black Faction had once fought alongside the Astartes Legion's warriors. Even if they didn't understand the Legion's ranks, they could easily tell from the ornate decorations and overwhelming presence of these new giants that they were high-ranking officers under Rider—commanders within the Astartes Legion.
At their head stood a giant over four meters tall—muscular and imposing like a descendant of the Titans. He wore no helmet, revealing short, tawny-brown hair and a square, chiseled face radiating raw power and discipline.
He looked to be in his forties, his expression unwavering, exuding the unshakable aura of a hardened warrior. His armor—an iron-gray masterpiece inscribed with golden and blue thundercloud motifs—marked him as one of the highest-ranking officers.
A broad cape of white and gold draped from his pauldrons, while his neck guard bore an emblem wreathed in olive branches—the symbol of the 'Ⅱ.'
He was none other than the commander of the Second Astartes Legion, Vice Commander of the entire Imperial Army—the Great General, Budo.
As for who commanded the entire Imperial Army—there was no need to ask.
"No problem. Her Majesty's command is absolute. We shall obey."
Thump, thump—!
Descending the steps of the second platform, Budo approached the Masters of the Yggdmillennia clan. His towering, broad-shouldered frame, accentuated by massive pauldrons, cast a shadow over them like a fortress wall.
"Lord Darnic, correct? By Her Majesty's decree, I will take your orders when necessary."
His dark golden eyes looked down upon Darnic, lightning crackling menacingly around his hydraulic-like gauntlets with a crackling sound.
Darnic gripped his staff tightly, taking a deep breath to suppress the surge of awe and fear in his chest.
"General, you're scaring them," came a lighthearted voice from behind Budo.
Stepping forward was Alex—standing over three meters tall, helmetless, with cropped brown hair. He smiled easily, dressed in a pitch-black suit of master-crafted legion commander power armor, detailed in silver and red, with a red-and-white cloak and an olive-wreathed 'Ⅰ' engraved on his neck guard.
"So, our mission is to take down that airborne fortress," said Liver, brushing a finger across his lips beneath a stylish mustache. His long, silver-white hair fell loosely to one side.
While not as monstrously built as Budo, he still stood over three meters tall. His violet armor gleamed with the intricate carvings of a deep-blue dragon coiled in a roar upon his right pauldron. A gray cloak flowed behind him, and his collar bore an olive-circled 'Ⅲ.'
Although Budo commanded the Second Astartes Legion rather than the First, that did little to diminish his status within the Imperial Army.
After being influenced by Kinshasa's "bigger is stronger" philosophy, Budo came to agree. Her Majesty had appointed him commander of the Second Legion, and as the Great General, how could he possibly be shorter than an average soldier?
A typical Astartes warrior, post–Honkai Energy enhancement surgery, stood between 2.5 and 2.7 meters tall. One or two of them was fine—but an entire Legion averaging 2.6 meters, while he stood under two? Unacceptable.
Kinshasa, the commander of the Royal Guard, stood 4.1 meters tall barefoot. So, with a mixture of pride and humor, Budo requested that Selene "adjust" him to 4.2 meters—ten centimeters taller than Kinshasa. Selene could only sigh helplessly and grant his request.
As for the other Astartes Legion Commanders, Selene based their physiques on Alex's model—approximately 3.2 meters tall, with flexibility for future adjustment. Thus, the Legion's "size doctrine" was established.
"Yes, Great General, esteemed commanders." Ever the picture of formal decorum, Darnic stood beside Budo with respectful composure, as though awaiting instruction from a superior officer.
"This way, please."
Pushing open the castle's grand doors, Vlad led them onto the balcony, pointing toward Sighișoara. "Based on our calculations, the Red Faction's airborne fortress will arrive above the plains outside the Fortress of Millennia by midnight."
"Understood." Budo nodded. "Alex, Liver—prepare to summon your respective Legions."
Standing beside Vlad, Budo looked down upon the bustling scene below: ranks of homunculi and golem troops hurrying about in preparation for battle. Turning his head, he addressed Darnic once more.
"Lord Darnic, the matter of magical energy supply falls to you."
Selene's Legion-summoning Noble Phantasms were undeniably powerful, but their mana requirements were monstrous. In a small-scale conflict like Fuyuki's, her mana consumption alone could drain a Master dry in seconds.
Only the Yggdmillennia clan—backed by years of preparation and an army of homunculi dedicated to mana generation—could possibly sustain the colossal appetites of Selene's war machine.
Darnic bowed slightly, his expression solemn and respectful. "Understood. Leave the mana supply to me."
"In that case, we shall await the Red Faction's arrival."
...
Midnight. On the plains outside the Fortress of Millennia.
Clatter—clatter—!
A sea of gray-white bones surged forward with a rattling cacophony, sweeping toward the Fortress of Millennia.
"Oh? They're here already."
Opening his eyes, Budo saw clearly with his enhanced vision—legions of headless gray skeletons marching in endless ranks. From the airborne garden above, waves of 'bone rain' continued to fall, birthing even more skeletal warriors. As they advanced, skeletal soldiers clawed their way out from beneath the soil, gripping bone-forged blades, unleashing silent roars at the fortress ahead.
Sensing Budo's disdain for such creations, Caster of Black—Avicebron—stepped forward to explain.
"Great General, these are magical constructs known as Dragon Tooth Warriors. They are not corpses desecrated through necromancy. Though skeletal in form, each is fashioned from the fangs of dragons—their bodies are immensely durable, far surpassing ordinary undead."
"I see. My thanks for the clarification. I must admit my ignorance..." Offering a courteous nod, Budo then turned sharply. "Prepare for battle!"
...
"Imperial Army! Advance!"
"For Selene—!"
"Long live the Empress!"
"Third Legion—crush them!"
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Rumble!
Vrrrm—! Vrrrm—!
The clash erupted instantly into a one-sided massacre. Explosive rounds and Honkai energy pulse projectiles streaked across the vast battlefield, tearing through the skeletal tide.
Chainswords, bolters, power blades—even armored fists—all joined the frenzy. The Astartes warriors of three Legions charged across the narrow plains like living tanks, tearing through the skeletal masses in a storm of shattered bone and marrow.
A few Dragon Tooth Warriors managed to evade the initial bombardment, but their bone blades shattered uselessly against the orichalcum-forged power armor. They couldn't even scratch the weakest armor joints, much less the reinforced pauldrons.
Their only accomplishment was scuffing off a few silver or gold engravings from the armor's decorative etchings—an act that immediately provoked the Astartes' fury. In the next moment, those unfortunate skeletons were crushed to powder beneath their wrath.
Meanwhile, within the Red Faction's airborne citadel—
"Their numbers... Archer was right." On the projection screen, Assassin of Red—Semiramis—watched her Dragon Tooth Warriors being slaughtered faster than she could summon replacements.
Some of the Astartes even aimed upward, firing at the airborne fortress itself. The barrage of bolts and Honkai pulses struck the black hovering panels, sparking violently with crackling bursts of light.
"Assassin, hold off on revealing the aerial fortress' magic cannons. Wait until we draw out a few of their Servants first."
Amakusa Shirou Tokisada halted Semiramis' impulse to fire upon the 'ordinary soldiers' with her anti-army weaponry. He then transmitted an order through magic to Archer of Red—Atalanta—stationed on the outer terrace.
"Archer, clear the field."
"Understood..."
Standing on a wide platform overlooking the battlefield below, Atalanta of Red drew her bow to a full moon, nocking two arrows upon its shimmering string.
"With my bow and arrows, I pray for the protection of the God Apollo and Goddess Artemis."
As she chanted, streams of radiant mana flowed visibly along the arrowshafts, gathering at the tips.
"I offer thee this Calamity—"
"Phoibos Catastrophe!"
The twin azure arrows streaked skyward, vanishing into the night. An instant later, brilliant light exploded across the heavens—the night sky blossomed into a river of stars, dazzlingly beautiful.
But before anyone could admire the sight, death descended. Countless arrows rained from the heavens like a divine storm.
"How interesting—a massed aerial strike?" Liver mused, gazing upward from the center of his formation. "A shame my command is the Crab Khan Legion—none of us can fly. If only it were the Bat Khan Legion... Astartes, cease pursuit!"
As the storm of light drew near, he brushed his mustache with a grin and raised his right hand. Azure light pulsed around his arm, and the ground itself began to tremble.
"Water Dragon Secret Art—Celestial Tide!"
At Liver's command, the ground beneath him erupted. Torrents of subterranean water burst skyward, coalescing into dozens of serpentine forms—mud-caked water dragons roaring to life under his control.
At first, their size was modest. But in moments, as the flood of groundwater surged upward, their bodies swelled to titanic proportions—each spanning dozens of meters.
"Go!"
At the shout, the dragons froze midair before releasing ear-splitting roars. Then, their colossal bodies twisted upward, surging toward the heavens.
Boom—! Screech—wooo...!
The rain of arrows met the rising dragons in a cataclysmic collision, the explosion echoing across the plains like the crashing of a celestial waterfall.
"They blocked it..." Atalanta clicked her tongue in irritation. Her Noble Phantasm never seemed to yield the results she wanted.
Turning sharply, she called out, "Saber! That silver-haired giant in violet armor down below—he's got an honor guard behind him. Must be their commander. He's yours!"
Clang! Clang!
"No problem! Leave it to me!" Helmet snapping into place, Mordred thumped her chest, then turned and yelled, "Hey, old hag! Open the transfer gate—I'm heading down!"
Click!
"Old... hag?" In the throne hall, Semiramis' eye twitched violently. Grinding her teeth, she hissed, "You insolent little—"
For the sake of the operation, she swallowed her fury. Taking several deep breaths, she restrained the urge to strangle the girl, activated the teleportation circle, and unceremoniously tossed Mordred down to the battlefield.
At that moment, Semiramis truly pitied King Arthur—for having to deal with such a troublesome child.
"Hey, you'd better—whoa—!"
Thud!
Before she could finish, Mordred opened her eyes to find herself surrounded—dozens of chainswords raised around her. She had been dropped right into the middle of the Astartes formation.
"For Selene—! Kill her!"
Vrrrm—!
"Seriously? Can't you come up with a new battle cry?"
Crackle—!
Grinning, Mordred's body erupted in lightning, raw mana surging as her muscles swelled with unleashed power.
BOOM!
A thunderous shockwave tore through the field. Grass and soil blackened under the electric blaze, the earth scorched bare beneath her feet.
Exploiting the Astartes warriors' lack of ranged energy attacks, Mordred charged through their ranks like a crimson tempest. Wrapped in a vortex of crackling red lightning, she plowed through every soldier that dared stand in her path.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The Astartes could barely keep up. Their bolters, too dangerous to fire on full-auto for fear of friendly fire, were nearly useless in single-shot mode. Even their strongest rounds couldn't pierce Mordred's armor reinforced by her Mana Burst.
"Hahaha! You can't possibly match me!" she taunted gleefully amid the chaos. "Where's your commander? Send someone with a title already!"
And as everyone knew—when someone declared words like that, it never ended well.
In the next instant—
"Very well... I'll oblige you!"
BOOM—!