Mass Release 5 Chapters!
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Let's put aside the red-haired uncle who was holding a treasured sword and whose chariot was crushing thunder as it sped towards the docks for a moment, and first turn our attention to Kiritsugu's side.
He had not expected to see so many figures from the Arthurian era in this Holy Grail War. However, learning that the opposing knight was the legendary Sir Balin was not necessarily a bad thing. After all, there were many legends about this knight, and they were very clear. Since he himself had already summoned a Knight of the Sword, then the one before him could only be the Knight of the Lance. It was just a little surprising that the weapon a Lancer-class knight was holding was a sword.
Kiritsugu knew that there were definitely many people watching this battle at the docks. Even if they hadn't come in person, they must have arranged for familiars or other long-range observation instruments to view the battle. And the words of the enemy knight, Balin, had basically confirmed that the Servants his team had summoned were the famous knight from the Arthurian legend and the famous blacksmith, Aslan.
Because Aslan and King Arthur looked very similar—cough, cough, it would be impossible for them not to look alike, after all, the two were cousins. Hmm, if the two looked too different, that would be a real problem. But it was also because of this small issue that in the original legends, some of the deeds that should have been Aslan's were all attributed to King Arthur. Moreover, most of what was attributed were plot points related to battle. This led to many people today not believing that Aslan was a person with great combat strength. Although the legends also recorded that he had studied under Balin and Morgan, people were more willing to believe that Aslan's true strength was the dragon that followed him, and not his own combat power and fighting skills.
How could anyone possess immense combat strength while at the same time having honed their forging skills to an inhuman level at a young age? In this era, besides magi, probably very few people were willing to believe that there were truly famous beings in this world. Even dragons were the same. So, Aslan's identity as the "Son of a Dragon," in the eyes of ordinary people, was perhaps not that special.
If you were to say who in the Holy Grail War was most likely to pretend to be a pig to eat a tiger, it would still be Aslan. If one were to only treat Aslan as the blacksmith in the legends that most people believed him to be, with excellent forging skills, proficient in Faerie Letters, and just a dragon-protected artisan, then they would probably be hit by a beam cannon the moment they charged into battle.
It was because of this mixing of legends that the Servant Aslan had not been able to bring out too many powerful Noble Phantasms, and even his own stats had dropped by a level. But it wasn't a big problem. After all, as long as his original self was strong enough, even if his strength had dropped a bit, he was not someone a second-rate warrior could compare to.
Kiritsugu was rather happy and pleased about this. Hiding most of one's strength to catch an enemy off guard was also a skill, was it not?
While the two warriors below were fighting, he had also discovered the skull-masked Assassin, who was secretly observing from atop a crane. Although it was strange why the Assassin, who should have made his exit, was still alive, come to think of it, this was the Holy Grail War. It was normal for someone to play a few tricks, right?
However, Kiritsugu's seriousness was soon broken. The way Merlin had jumped out was too special, and the words he spoke also seemed extremely chuunibyou. King Arthur was right beside him, yet now another one had popped out, disguised as King Arthur. But the weapon in the hands of this man with silver hair and silver armor... wasn't the Sword of Promised Victory something only King Arthur possessed?
In fact, even Artoria, who was with Irisviel, almost spat out the warm coffee in her hand when she saw that old bastard suddenly appear in silver armor, holding a golden holy sword, and jumping out with such a fuss. Where on earth did that old bastard get his hands on her holy sword?
Artoria had never thought that Merlin would actually fish her treasured sword out of the lake. Perhaps in the legend, when King Arthur's treasured sword was thrown into the lake, a hand reached out to receive it—that was probably the hand of a certain old bastard reaching out from the water. After all, judging by this old bastard's appearance, even if he were mistaken for a Lady of the Lake, it would seem quite normal.
Most importantly, she had never expected this old bastard to actually pretend to be her. Was she really that frivolous in this old bastard's impression?!
And what was that about "in the name of King Arthur, I will subjugate you all"! If everyone present thought King Arthur had this kind of personality, oh god, it's social death!
Artoria almost couldn't hold back. She wanted to rush out directly and then rub her treasured sword fiercely all over that old bastard's face. This old bastard must have done this because his skin was too thick. Her own holy sword could help this old bastard scrape some of that face off!
Clearly, after she had ascended the throne, Merlin had always seemed very mature and stable. It was as if that appearance during their journey was just a flash in the pan. Although she knew that Merlin's true nature was actually extremely wicked, she had never expected him to still have such an unreliable side.
At this moment, Artoria understood why Aslan's attitude towards Merlin was so annoyed and disgusted. Clearly, the two were good friends, but it seemed that every time they met, Merlin's face would have an extra slap mark or a dent from a forging hammer. Now she understood. As expected, it was all Merlin's fault.
A special smile curled at the corner of Artoria's mouth. She considered whether she should take advantage of the fact that Merlin hadn't reacted yet and directly release her Noble Phantasm for a good blast. If it weren't for the fact that this was during the Holy Grail War, and Artoria told herself to be calm, that her mission now was to hide, then the golden "Torrent of Life" would probably have already surged towards that shameless old bastard.
But soon, the thunder from the sky made everyone calm down. The big uncle with the red beard and hair drove his ox-cart directly into the battlefield. He looked at the three people on the field holding holy swords, then looked at the treasured sword in his own hand, and gently raised an eyebrow. It seemed that in terms of the fame of their treasured swords, the one in his hand was a little bit lacking.
Forget it, whatever. In any case—
"All of you, lay down your arms! In the name of Iskandar, the King of Conquerors!"