The Holy Grail War Blessed by the Gods

"What a waste of breath! I've finally realized that the only thing that matters is the staff in your hand, which allows you to perform these false miracles and mimic the deeds of the prophets of the past."

Ilya remained calm; instead, his expression grew even more disdainful, as if he didn't care about the enemy before him at all. II.

He raised the greatsword in his hand, patted his silver-gray armor, and shook off the frozen ice. (9)

"Alright, let's get serious this time, let's utterly shatter you, you true blasphemer! This isn't the first time I've seen a blasphemous idol; even the great demon worshipped by men has been conquered by me."

The only consequence of relying on one's own strength is unavoidable arrogance and pride. Before the revelation from God reveals all destiny, I can only display my glory with compassion. (V)

The dispelled cold wind blew up again, but this time it was not the Russian goddess who brought the snow, but Ilya.

The desert ground beneath his feet had turned into cold permafrost, and the frost-covered kingdom etched deep in Ilya's heart manifested here.

The heroic chapter has been turned once more, this time the warriors, bearing the heavy frost, sing a song of the memories etched upon Ilya by this frozen land.

The endless, boundless night is a fitting match for the never-ending, never-ending battle.

The appearance of all the heroes is not a grand epic of heroic deeds and immortal achievements, but a song of self-destruction, a journey to their end, a burial of themselves.

The poems that record the deaths of the brave warriors on those long winter nights are the last remnants of the ancient Rus's divine era, the surviving poems recorded on the boundary tape.

The story's ending, like its endless, drawn-out meaning, will never see the light of day; everything will vanish with the blizzard on the eve of dawn.

The Rus' warriors knew the outcome all too well, yet they still pressed on with unwavering determination.

Those heroes who had fought countless battles and won countless laurels formed a fully armed army and marched toward the world that was crashing in like waves.

Only God, who brought the divine revelation and the ultimate destiny, can know the ending.

This is not something that apostles of beasts, who in the name of false prophets open their mouths to speak exaggerated and blasphemous words and act recklessly, impersonating the authority of God, could do.

In the past, when the beast with seven heads and ten horns came from afar across the sea, it performed a false miracle, reenacting the resurrection of Christ before people's eyes.

The beast, by its false and blasphemous authority, waged war against the saints and triumphed; and all the peoples, nations, peoples, languages ​​and countries of the earth bowed down to it. And it summoned false prophets to perform false signs to deceive the people of the earth.

This was something that was already known beforehand, but it was being carried out here.

But how can falsehood become truth? The day of fury will come, and everything will be buried in fire and sulfur.

The whole world surged forward like a tidal wave, yet it could not stop the brave warriors' charge, even though the scene was nothing short of slaughter.

Not only could one see bodies being torn apart, with blood mingling with the blood, but one could also see heads and arms flying through the air; all that could be seen was death.

Blood splattered all over everyone's body, but no one flinched in fear or dreaded their fate of death.

The fate of defeat has been revealed; all the brave warriors have to do is spill the wine they once drank so heartily.

The warriors recorded in the songs of those brave men will not waver or retreat; this is the true embodiment of their title, Bogatyr.

This word comes from heroes, and even more so from gods who have become heroes.

The turbulent world eventually flowed by, and only a handful of brave men remained standing; the rest were buried in the great wave of blood and all things in the world.

"You actually survived? What a tenacious life force! But it's all meaningless. God's power has only been shown in my hands in a small part. If I just swing my staff again, everything you've done will be meaningless."

Seeing that Ilya had actually walked out alive, Morley couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed and quickly swung his staff repeatedly.

"You fool, are you really an apostle of the beast? Or is it only the stupid and foolish like you who would be at the beast's beck and call?"

What more could one do by waving that cane?

That false miracle certainly possessed incredible power, and this power could act arbitrarily until the appointed day arrived. Q

But that's all. The person wielding the staff possessed no real strength; she was merely a tool for the beast, wielding it for her.

No amount of miracles could stop the warriors' final advance. Even though they all perished, the power of their demise brought about the final judgment.

This is the judgment that God, who observes all things in the heavens, will deliver, revealing true revelation to the world through the rocky sword wielded by Ilya.

"It's over, or can you continue to deceive yourself that it hasn't happened?"

The valiant figure had appeared before Morai without anyone noticing, and his greatsword, crackling with wind, snow, and lightning, swept down, knocking the staff from Morai's hand.

"What...no...!"

Molai felt as if his very bones had been drained, his body itching, as if he had lost everything, and he collapsed to the ground. (The last part, "魃," appears to be a fragment and doesn't translate directly.)

Morley instinctively turned around, trying to crawl towards the spot where his cane had been knocked down, his hands on the ground. ④

But after the cane was struck, it transformed into a snake and fell to the ground, quickly trying to escape.

Ilya ignored the future and quickly summoned lightning from his hand, transforming it into a spear to hurl at the snake. Nine

The lightning struck the snake formed from the staff, but left no mark; the snake vanished quickly, disappearing directly from Ilya's bounded field. (Rin)

"It's more agile and sturdier than I expected. I should have shot closer." (5)

Ilya slapped his thigh in regret when he realized he hadn't managed to keep the serpent staff.

Chapter Seventy-Two: Fury

The expanding, high-temperature flames continued to devour the entire earth. With the power of runes imparted by the great god Odin, Brunhilde displayed her power as a demigod without reservation.

Despite losing most of her reason due to her madness, Brunhilde was unable to properly use the power she controlled, only unleashing it wildly, seeking only to kill her beloved before her own destruction.

The primordial runes brought terrifying and destructive power, and also enhanced Brunhilde's overall attributes and skills.

This primordial rune, inherited from the Norse god Odin, is as effective and powerful as millions of runes used by modern magicians.

The power unleashed grew even more ferocious as Brunhilde's emotions surged, and the magical arrows shot by Arash were all reduced to ashes before they could even get close.

The only thing that can continue to hold them off is Mash's shield.

The scorching flames and the gunshots, mimicking those of the giant wolf Fenrir, shook Mash's body with every strike.

As Galahad's Noble Phantasm, it stands firmly in the heart of Camelot, the city of chalk, a shield that will never crumble if the heart does not yield.

The chalk city, the once distant ideal city, reappears, its walls standing tall as long as the heart does not yield, they will never fall.

Even the flames of the great god, the flames that overflowed from the heart of the Valkyrie Brunhilde, burning with her own thoughts and everything else, could not shake this pure white city.

Since the flames of love could not break through Mashu's defenses, Arjuna's judgment was successfully unleashed.

Even though the Beast Master's power is reduced due to its status as a Spirit Origin Shadow, it is still enough to destroy Brunhilde, who has become a demigod again.

This magical artifact, bestowed upon me by Shiva, the god who governs creation and destruction, is perfect for killing a divine opponent.

"That's enough, Mashu!"

The Beast Master slipped from Arjuna's grasp, and Mash, who had heard Fujimaru Ritsuka's fate, breathed a sigh of relief, released the Noble Phantasm that held her together, and dodged to the side.

The liberated beast lord immediately tore apart the surrounding primordial rune-shaped flames and the blue flames burning within Brunhilde's heart, striking Brunhilde.

The terrifying power that descended directly dissolved Brunhilde; the judgment for liberation had been passed, and the target that was hit was destroyed.

"Ahem... Brunhilde has been defeated, that's really troublesome. Hmm..."

Paracelsus, who was locked in a fierce battle with Hassan the Cursed Arm in the makeshift position, was also distracted when he noticed Brunhilde's death.

"Your body is already so broken, yet you still dare to be distracted and worry about other things."

Paracelsus was momentarily distracted, and one of Hassan's throwing knives pierced his body once more.

Paracelsus immediately dug out the part of the throwing knife that had been inserted, along with the knife itself. The flesh turned purplish-black and began to rot in the blink of an eye.

"We are just meaningless pawns, nothing more than things to amuse ourselves when we are bored."

Paracelsus didn't pay much attention to his injuries. He already had many wounds from the cursed wrists, and if it weren't for the convenience of the great temple behind him, his head would have been off long ago.

"This is when all of us, the chess pieces we use for amusement, break down, and that noble lady, in order to continue to fill her boredom, will wake up from her shallow sleep lying on the ground."

"So, in other words, killing you will awaken the evil that has brought darkness and distorted this land of Egypt. Is that right?"

Hassan of Cursed Arm naturally didn't think this was a bad thing, after all, it was their mission, so he asked with great interest.

"No, it's just a possibility. Our existence is insignificant in the face of such a great being, and whether we can have any influence at all is unknown."

Paracelsus simply shook his head, silencing the Cursed Arm, and charged forward once more. This time, Paracelsus failed to save his left hand.

This immense trauma left Paracelsus with no time to process, and he lost the desire to continue resisting.

Paracelsus, whose white robes were stained red with blood, had lost all meaning and necessity, and staggered toward the great temple behind him.

Paracelsus made his way to the bottom of the temple steps, slowly sat down, and leaned his back against the steps.

"Your Excellency can see for yourself what it is all about. Just go up this staircase and you'll find the bewitched king and the queen hiding behind him."

"Thank you for providing the last piece of information, but I can't let you die here naturally. Farewell, unknown heroic spirit."

Hassan the Cursed Arm stepped forward and pierced Paracelsus's spirit origin. Although Paracelsus would die if left unattended, such an injury could not be guaranteed.

"Was the woman wielding the huge spear earlier named Brunhilde? Arash and Fujimaru Ritsuka are quite capable. It's just that I've taken too much time to kill a magician. I feel like I'm losing all my assassin skills over this period of time."

Cursed Arm Hassan, recalling Paracelsus's earlier distraction, couldn't help but shake his head and reflect on his own inefficiency.

Not only were they discovered when they got close to the magician, but they were also dragged into a slightly stalemate after being discovered. Although they did not suffer much damage, it took them quite a while to defeat the enemy.

As an assassin, this is undoubtedly a poor performance; a magician should be the best target for an assassin.

"Phew... Is their battle over too? That beast gave the false prophet a bit too much power. If it were a normal Heroic Spirit, he might have been able to defeat me with that authority. It's not surprising that it took a little longer."

Although it was suspected that Ilya was dealing with the most troublesome enemy, he still found it hard to accept that he was the slowest one.

Ilya intended to achieve enough merit to sit in the same position as Manshu, but so far he has not been able to achieve anything of great importance.

Thus, Ilya could only console himself with the hope that the great temple ahead would bring him a pleasant surprise.

"Well done, you guys! You were even faster than me."

If there's no need to omit praise in this regard, then at least for him, there's no need to disagree.

“We were three against one, which is nothing compared to Brother Ilya facing an enemy who could summon such a terrible flood all by himself. I’ve heard that such a sight seems to be the power that the god that Brother Cursed Arm and the others worshipped once exercised. A heroic spirit that can do this is no easy opponent.”

Arash laughed and said that he didn't think he had done anything special, so there was nothing to praise.

"I haven't been of much use. My fellow countryman, Cursed Wrist, has also successfully dealt with his opponent. Let's go over there and meet up with him first. Then we should go up this pyramid."

"Yes, if we want to find out what's going on here, this pyramid is undoubtedly the most suspicious place. The king must have a throne that fits the king, even if he is a demon king."

The evil entity that seized Egyptian rule transformed this city into such a magnificent, golden metropolis. It itself, in truth, likely favored extravagance and splendor, and thus, only the Great Pyramid served as its throne.

"Then let's not dawdle and just charge straight there."

……

"Hmm... I haven't slept like this for a long time, and even my head is throbbing. Moses! Someone, summon my friend; I have something to discuss with him."

Deep within the magnificent pyramid's main temple, the Sun King, seated on his throne, slowly awoke with a furrowed brow and a barely perceptible look of pain on his face.