In a crisp, unadulterated world, two figures roared as they unleashed world-shattering fists with reckless abandon.
At this stage of the battle, regardless of who held the upper hand, their fists differed vastly in nature.
Sakatsuki, who aimed directly at Achilles' vital points, embodied the very concept of a one-hit kill.
Meanwhile, Achilles launched relentless assaults at top speed, his fists like meteors weaving around Sakatsuki—a martial art designed solely to ensure the opponent's death.
Just as expected—Sakatsuki thought to himself.
Achilles' fists indeed possessed unparalleled power, but they leaned toward linearity—a method that sacrificed versatility for sheer destructive force.
He would exploit this gap. In other words, victory would come from repeatedly exceeding Achilles' expectations—a feat even the original Sakatsuki might not achieve. Only an assassin with enhanced Mystic Eyes could perform such calculations.
"What…?!"
The next moment, Achilles tasted bitterness. His sure-kill punch aimed at Sakatsuki's chest was sidestepped. Though he immediately shifted into a defensive stance, Sakatsuki had already twisted his ankle, transitioning into a joint lock to further cripple the already compromised limb.
To counter this, one could pivot their body in the direction of the twisted ankle and use the free leg to kick the opponent away, breaking the hold. Yet Achilles did none of that—instead, he slammed both palms onto the ground, enduring the pain outright.
"Tch?!"
This time, it was Sakatsuki's turn to be stunned. Unbelievably, Achilles lifted Sakatsuki entirely off the ground using only the strength of his right leg. Clicking his tongue, Sakatsuki reflexively released his hold and swiftly retreated—only for a foot to rapidly fill his vision.
Boom!
A shockwave erupted as Sakatsuki was sent flying, crashing through a fountain in the flowerbed before tumbling awkwardly across the lawn. Thud— Achilles kicked off the ground, leaping with agile grace to deliver another kick aimed at Sakatsuki's head. Without hesitation, Sakatsuki countered with an elbow strike.
Achilles' kick landed on Sakatsuki's temple.
Sakatsuki's elbow drove into Achilles' solar plexus.
While Achilles immediately clutched his chest upon landing, Sakatsuki ignored the pain in his head entirely. Channeling his energy into his dantian, he launched a devastating punch straight at Achilles' face.
Achilles tried to evade—but in that instant, a searing pain tore through his neck.
"Wha—?!"
Glancing down at the last moment, Achilles was horrified to find his red mantle pinned under Sakatsuki's foot—an utterly unexpected method of restricting his movement!
The next moment—
Crash!
A figure crumpled like a sack of rags, colliding with the ground in a grating, metallic screech before rebounding violently. Even now, Sakatsuki refused to release the mantle. Instead, he brought both arms down in front of his abdomen, striking like a bell tolling doom.
A dragon surges from the water, overturning rivers and seas.
One of the Eight Extreme Fists' Eight Great Techniques—Tyrant Shatters the River!
If this strike landed cleanly, even a hero's body of steel could be snapped in half at the waist!
"Guh…!!"
With a shattering pain, Achilles' stance crumbled, yet the hurried defense he'd thrown up still served its purpose, blocking yet another lethal strike. But Sakatsuki had never expected a one-hit kill. Still stepping on Achilles' scarf, he seized the brief moment of stiffness to shift his technique again!
His left foot slid into an empty stance, left fist drawn to his waist, palm upward. Just as Sakatsuki was about to unleash his Left-Right Hard Opening technique, a look of desperation flashed in Achilles' eyes. Rooting his feet to the ground, he threw his head back with the reckless abandon of a cornered beast—not to tear the scarf, but to use that tremendous force to yank Sakatsuki off balance, disrupting his prepared move.
The final chance!
Achilles, now at a disadvantage, roared with fury. The passion he'd restrained until now surged forth like raging waves.
He didn't know what he was shouting, nor did he care. He simply unleashed straight punches, jabs, hooks... In mere seconds, Achilles delivered countless blows at godlike speed.
Sakatsuki deflected them all—blocking, bending, sidestepping—while steadily closing the distance.
Both knew this was the decisive moment. Neither Achilles' condition nor Sakatsuki's stamina would allow another round of offense and defense.
Achilles believed he had to seize this chance to turn the tide. He aggravated his own injuries, trading defense for the initiative—a gamble he couldn't afford to waste.
He condensed his whirlwind life into his fists, pouring into them his convictions, pride, honor, and love.
Amid scorching passion and roars, Achilles gradually forgot everything, lost in the ecstasy of battle.
But Sakatsuki was different.
His fists carried not just emotion, but calculated strategy.
Endure, endure, keep enduring.
Waiting for the perfect moment.
—His enemy was a legendary hero.
—The one he had to surpass.
—He couldn't afford to lose to this man in any way.
—His arrogance would yield to no one.
Sakatsuki wouldn't release the scarf. Knowing this was his last chance, Achilles unleashed a storm of furious strikes, which Sakatsuki endured in silence.
Blood soaked his body, skin tore, bones fractured, nerves severed.
This was the price.
Ten seconds of hell.
To create a miracle so minute even a great hero couldn't achieve it.
Then, in Achilles' brief moment to catch his breath, the blood-drenched, seemingly lifeless Sakatsuki moved. No technique, no form—just the warrior's instinct honed through countless life-or-death battles, something even the Fate Compendium couldn't cultivate.
His target: the spiritual core. No feints, no wasted motion—just a single step forward and a punch—
"This is my fist, my spear, my blade, my arrogance, my everything...!!"
"Take it, Achilles!"
A strike faster, higher, stronger than any shooting star.
"——————"
The instant it landed, his mind comprehended everything.
In an instant, Achilles comprehended everything—the extent of training required to master such a strike, the caliber of enemies it could defeat, and whether he himself could withstand such a blow.
This punch was Sakatsuki's all-or-nothing strike. Under these conditions, it was capable of felling even the most renowned heroes in the world.
And he was no exception—he had already been struck down.
A numbing sensation spread through his entire body—the fatal blow had shattered his spiritual core.
Yet, the first thought that crossed his mind was a single word of admiration: "Magnificent." This punch was beyond the reach of an ordinary human. It was a realm attainable only by a hero who had ceaselessly honed his craft.
It was nothing short of a "death sentence," surpassing even the might of a Noble Phantasm.
Blood clogged his throat as Achilles struggled to part his lips, forcing out two words.
"Beau...tiful."
"...Thank you."
With those final words of awe, Achilles collapsed, never to rise again. As his Noble Phantasm faded, the bounded field woven by grand magecraft dissipated.
The arena swiftly returned to its original state, and the slowed flow of time resumed its normal course.
Yet, some things could not be restored. Sakatsuki's injuries would not heal immediately, and Achilles' spiritual core had been utterly destroyed.
This was not a condition that could be remedied by healing. The moment they accepted this challenge, they had forsaken all safeguards. Even if there were resurrection Noble Phantasms or skills at play, nothing could reverse the outcome now.
For in that duel, defeat meant "death."
Thus, on the battlefield of the Hanging Gardens, all present witnessed Achilles lying lifeless, his spiritual core shattered, and Sakatsuki, barely kneeling, covered in grievous wounds.
Though the brutality of the battle was enough to steal one's breath, the two warriors locked eyes—and, as if by mutual understanding, broke into laughter.
A laughter of pure, unbridled exhilaration.