The torrent of fire that materialized burst forth with terrifying force, slamming directly into Berserker's chest. Though he reflexively braced against the blow, the sheer impact was overwhelming, his body was sent hurtling backward through the air. The blazing heat left behind only scorched air and the stench of burning.
Berserker crashed through a wall, his momentum carrying him deep into a neighboring building, which promptly collapsed over him in a cloud of rising smoke and dust.
"Master, it's done."
At some point, Medea had silently summoned a chain of magic from the void. It now wound tightly around Matou Kariya's body, restraining him. With clinical precision, she plunged a Talisman into him, one designed to sever all magical contracts. If used against a Servant, she could potentially usurp the bond and claim control herself, but doing so carried far greater risk. Dealing with a Master was far simpler.
With practiced ease, she raised Kariya's hand, still bound in magical chains, and extracted the Command Seals from his flesh.
It was over. Matou Kariya was completely eliminated from the Holy Grail War.
But that didn't mean the situation was resolved.
Normally, when a Master-Servant contract is broken, a Servant will cease consuming magical energy. Unless they possess Independent Action or another self-sustaining skill, they would vanish once their supply ran dry.
But Berserkers are… exceptions.
Stripped of rationality, they do not acknowledge retreat. They are creatures of instinct and destruction.
"ROOOOOAAAAR—!!"
With a primal shriek, the mad knight burst from the rubble once again. Without the chain of command holding him back, the beast was unshackled entirely. Pure, unthinking wrath guided his every motion, his only goal: destroy what stood before him.
"Do you want me to kill him? His magical energy won't last much longer, he'll burn out on his own," Medea offered, calmly raising her staff.
Roland chuckled.
"That would be a waste," he said with a smile. "Sure, he's no match for some of the true monsters in this war, but he's got other uses."
He narrowed his eyes slightly, a hint of red glowing behind them.
"Saber still clings to his dream of restoring a kingdom. He needs a wake-up call if I want to see the true power of the holy sword, and I have no intention of holding a heart-to-heart with a man like him."
He stepped forward, letting the fire stir again.
"I'll let this mad dog do the barking."
Roland raised his hand once more. This time, the flame gathering in his palm shone with a crimson brilliance, almost molten in its intensity.
"Step back, Caster. Time to teach this beast a lesson in obedience."
The next blast erupted forth like a volcanic surge, a radiant column of compressed flame that exploded on impact. Even in broad daylight, the brilliance was blinding. The ground trembled beneath the sheer force as the inferno swallowed Berserker whole. His armor cracked and peeled under the heat, magical plating melting away under the onslaught.
Though the fire tore him apart, Berserker's instincts, his martial mastery never wavered.
Within the flames, he moved.
The battered knight reconstructed his armor mid-charge, grasped a broken metal pipe, and infused it with his mana, transforming it into a makeshift Noble Phantasm. He charged, body and mind united in blind momentum, tearing up the ground in his wake.
From Caster's perspective, the speed was almost impossible to follow. Just a blur of black and madness, carving a path of devastation.
But Roland didn't flinch.
He merely shifted his stance, and with a slight press of his foot
Crack.
The earth beneath him fractured like glass, spiderwebbing outward. Heat surged, turning stone into molten amber.
Even Berserker had no choice but to step into the melting terrain. He didn't hesitate, his momentum carried him forward, leaping high, bringing his weapon down with the force of a meteor.
"Are you insane?! Go help your Master!"
Kariya, barely conscious, blinked in shock. This was what greeted him as he regained his senses.
A Servant fighting a Master one-on-one?
Impossible.
A Servant, a Heroic Spirit, was an existence drawn from myth and legend, beings beyond human comprehension. No normal magus could hope to compete.
And Berserker wasn't just any Servant.
He was Lancelot du Lac, the most formidable of the Knights of the Round Table. The man whose tragic love affair tore Camelot apart. Even now, with sanity lost, he stood as a first-rate Servant. In single combat, his strength surpassed most.
He even bested Gawain, the famed Sun Knight, in legend.
"This is insane," Kariya muttered.
"Relax," Medea replied, glancing at him. "Surely even a magus like you knows about reinforcement magic? As a Caster, I can cast it on others. Even an ordinary human can be elevated to Servant-level strength."
"Then why aren't you using it now? If your Master dies, we're both done for!"
"I did use it," Medea sighed. "But the effect isn't particularly noticeable on him."
"What…?" Kariya looked up in confusion.
At that moment, Lancelot came crashing down.
Roland exhaled.
Flames rippled from his mouth as if his very breath were made of magic. His blood surged like molten lava. Though Medea's reinforcement spell worked, the true power came from within, Roland's own soul coursed with supernatural force. Even unconscious, he could leap four stories with ease.
This was the first time Roland unleashed his power without restraint.
He had once thought Servants were monsters unstoppable beings summoned from beyond the veil, whose battles devastated the land and slaughtered innocents by proximity.
But now?
Now he knew the truth.
The energy burning inside him matched them.
And what if he pushed even further?
What then?
That answer arrived.
"I can see it."
To a Servant, Berserker's assault was blinding. But to Roland, everything slowed. The world expanded. The knight's movements became frames in a slow-motion reel, visible, predictable.
He grinned, eyes wild.
The thrill infected him.
"Pitiful. So pitiful!"
He didn't dodge.
He leapt.
Before Berserker's blow landed, Roland met him mid-air, caught the iron rod effortlessly, and twisted.
In a single fluid motion, he reversed the momentum, seized the rod's base, and slammed Berserker into the ground like a ragdoll.
Matou Kariya could only gape at the impossible sight.
"A Master… stronger than a Servant…?"
He muttered, the words escaping like a gasp.
"...What kind of monster is he."