Unlimited Ambition

"..."

Tokiomi Tohsaka was instantly dumbfounded. He missed the sarcastic smile playing on Gilgamesh's lips.

"...Should I use a Command Spell?" Tokiomi Tohsaka steeled his resolve, knowing this was his only chance to kill me. He didn't believe those two Heroic Spirits, Berserker and Rider, could take me down on their own. If he watched me slaughter those two, he'd be next. Tokiomi Tohsaka understood the principle of mutual dependence.

"I'm very sorry, Your Majesty, but a good minister should point out the mistakes of his ruler..."

As he uttered these clever words, another portion of the Command Seals in Tokiomi's hand vanished. Gilgamesh glared at him, slightly annoyed. Then, looking at Tokiomi kneeling on one knee, Gilgamesh snorted coldly and slowly walked from the ship into the void, heading towards the battlefield.

Tokiomi Tohsaka breathed a slight sigh of relief. He mentally calculated that if this battle could defeat him, then Risei Kotomine promised to give him another Command Seal. That would mean he could get one more "advice" like this. And so…

"Humph."

At this moment, Tokiomi Tohsaka was full of confidence, believing that he had already achieved final victory.

Gilles was resistant, so he was relatively slow to head to the battlefield. Meanwhile, I had already exchanged blows with Iskandar and Lance (Lotte) several times.

Iskandar was charging towards me in his chariot at seventy yards per minute, and Lancelot was clinging to me tightly—it seemed his master had cast some kind of healing spell. He was now full of energy, like a mad dog. The chariot was about to hit me in the waist. But a smile crept onto my face, and I vanished from my spot in a dimensional leap.

Immediately afterward, Lancelot turned his head—and was sent flying again…

At that moment, Tokiomi Tohsaka heard a familiar voice filled with extreme hatred.

"Tokiomi Tohsaka!!!!!"

That guy looked like he could collapse at any moment, as if he were more of a demon than a human. Something seemed to be rapidly sliding beneath his skin… to call that a blood vessel was a bit of an exaggeration.

This guy, who looked like he should be at the hospital immediately—with blood still dripping from his mouth—was roaring loudly. Looking around him, a large swarm of flying insects, like a dark cloud, had appeared. Judging from their mouthparts, which were covered in dagger-like teeth, it was clear these creatures were no pushovers.

“Matou…Kariya?” Tokiomi Tohsaka stared at him for a while before realizing that this guy was his rival in love—no, he should say, his former rival in love, Matou Kariya, whom he hadn’t seen for quite some time.

"Humph……"

Immediately afterward, Tokiomi Tohsaka also leaped off the ship. Although his physical abilities were at the level of an ordinary person, Tokiomi Tohsaka landed on the ground as lightly as a feather, without making a sound.

"You bastard!" Enemies meeting are bound to be filled with hatred. At this moment, Matou Kariya almost forgot the excruciating pain in his body that could make him faint. He desperately pushed the Insects within his body to unleash their potential, pushing his Insect Techniques to their maximum level.

No matter how powerful it is, it's still just an insect.

If this is a tragedy, then Matou Kariya's rival, Tokiomi Tohsaka, is a fire-attribute mage. That's probably an even greater tragedy.

Holding his formal attire and a staff inlaid with a massive ruby, Tokiomi Tohsaka remained composed and at ease on the battlefield. A simple barrier of flames enveloped him, rendering him invincible. The swarming insects, like smoke and a sea of ​​fire, hatched continuously, then, under Kariya Matou's command, frantically rushed into the inferno, only to be instantly charred into charcoal by the supernatural magical flames.

Tokiomi Tohsaka frowned. He didn't adopt an offensive stance, but rather a purely defensive one. This was because he considered that after killing Kariya Matou, the Black Knight would suddenly lose its source of power. And whether a berserker was intelligent enough to instantly understand what was happening and then find a new master was a question Tokiomi doubted—even if the berserker were truly extraordinary and could quickly sign a contract with him, the battlefield was ever-changing. Taking advantage of that opening, he might very well unleash his power and annihilate the Black Knight. That would essentially declare their defeat.

Therefore, Matou Kariya cannot die. At least not now.

However, judging from Matou Kariya's current state, it seemed that even if he didn't attack, Matou Kariya himself would soon die from exhaustion.

"Do you really want to die that badly?" Finally, Tokiomi Tohsaka couldn't hold back any longer and asked Kariya Matou, "Look at the current situation, Kariya. You're no match for me at all—and right now, we have a common enemy. Can't we call a truce for now?"

"—Unless I'm dead, absolutely not!!" Kariya Matou shouted. "You beast! You actually sent Sakura to a place like that!!"

"What are you talking about?" Tokiomi Tohsaka asked, utterly bewildered. "Are you regretting giving up the chance to inherit the Matou family, and are you jealous of Sakura because of it? How despicable—"

"--shut up!!!"

Hearing her former love rival's blatant distortion of the truth, Matou Kariya nearly fainted from anger. Then, with renewed vigor, even more and larger insects continued to rush towards Tohsaka Tokiomi like moths to a flame…

“Damn it…” Tokiomi Tohsaka completely failed to understand why Kariya Matou was so angry. In his mind, arranging his daughters this way was the most appropriate way. Unlike himself, who was of mediocre talent, his two daughters were both exceptionally talented. Rin was born with all five elemental attributes, while Sakura possessed the even rarer Shadow attribute. However, there could only be one spot to inherit the Tohsaka family's magic circuits. Choosing either daughter would be somewhat inappropriate; favoritism was wrong. Tokiomi Tohsaka was racking his brains over this—until the Matou family extended an olive branch, expressing their desire to adopt a daughter to inherit the Matou family's magic circuits.

Kariya Matou didn't understand this kind of magician's thinking, nor did he want to. He simply believed that Sakura Tohsaka had been pushed into a fire pit by her own father, nothing more...

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Macedonian Army

Long ago, there was a madman named Enkidu, a man of breathtaking beauty, almost like a divine prostitute. Ultimately, he was destroyed by the gods who created him. On his deathbed, he looked up to the heavens and wept bitterly. Because he was a direct creation of the gods, he was utterly powerless to resist his creators. When he was forced to commit suicide, he naturally harbored extreme resentment towards those deities.

This extreme resentment ultimately led to the creation of a treasure specifically designed to subdue the gods.

Its name is the Lock of Heaven.

At this moment, despite my reluctance, the legendary heroine (queen) ultimately stood against me. Seeing my slightly serious demeanor, completely overwhelming Iskandar and Lancelot, she scoffed, "Trash." Then, with a wave of her hand—half the sky was enveloped in a brilliant golden light.

"Hey, King of Heroes!" Iskandar suddenly had an idea and said to Gilgamesh, "By the way, after I summon the Army of Kings, why don't you lend me all these Noble Phantasms? That way, having enough Heroic Spirits and enough Noble Phantasms will be more than the sum of its parts."

While the Conqueror King's suggestion was indeed bizarre, it also seemed somewhat feasible. However, a petty girl like Gilgamesh would only scoff and reply with a curt, "Scum." She would never lend her treasure to an unrelated person.

"There's really nothing I can do..."

Seeing Iskandar create a clone, I quickly seized the opportunity, turned around to dodge Lancelot's attack, and the half-werewolf's claws slammed directly onto the bull's head of the Divine Wheel.

Immediately afterwards, the black, shiny bull, which looked quite appealing, let out a miserable cry and died with its brains splattered open.

"Tsk—" Only then did Iskandar react, but it was too late—after the second claw strike, a large hole was punched through the entire body of the Divine Wheel. The right wheel and axle were completely shattered into a pile of broken pieces of wood. Thus, the Divine Wheel was completely destroyed.

"Damn it—"

Iskandar roared in anger, and then the scene of the vast ocean reappeared! Under the blazing sun, the Conqueror King mounted his beloved steed Busephrus, who had also become a heroic spirit. At the same time, the most elite Macedonian pikemen, holding their spears horizontally, stood like a dense forest; the second rank of javelin throwers, their shields adorned with shimmering tassels, were incredibly majestic. The third rank of archers drew their bows and unleashed a rain of arrows. On both sides of the phalanx, the accompanying cavalry quickly formed a wedge formation, ready to charge at any moment.

The King's Army, which could be considered an EX Noble Phantasm, was unusually cautious, forming a defensive formation as if facing a formidable enemy.

This is the complete form of the army that Alexander Iskandar relied on to conquer the vast empire, the true form of Macedon's eternally invincible military power.

“It’s definitely worth seeing.” I nodded, tightened my long, narrow claws, then released them, and then rushed forward like a streak of light.

"Cavalry! Charge!!"

The Macedonian army's first offensive began—Companion cavalry, wielding exceptionally long lances, charged towards us from both flanks. They wore bronze armor and helmets, and carried lances exceeding three meters in length. Given that stirrups had not yet been invented, this was nothing short of a miracle. The Companion cavalry were arguably the most formidable lancer force of their time, far surpassing their contemporaries. This was the most powerful offensive force in Alexander's army, consistently clashing head-on with enemy formations in battle, displaying unparalleled sharpness.

Leading this formidable army was one of Alexander's successors after his death, Commander of the Companion Cavalry and Imperial Consul Perdiccas—clad in shimmering pale green bronze armor, a feather-adorned helmet, and a vibrant red silk cloak, also wielding an exceptionally long lance—his rank was Lancer. A C-class Heroic Spirit.

Facing the surging cavalry, Gu Yiran stood fearlessly in place, and brilliant starlight began to gather in her hands—a high-heat aggregation spell was taking shape, just a few more seconds away…

No, that would be too boring.

So I abandoned magic and chose claws.

Then, I charged at my companion cavalry again—as easily as cutting through butter with a sharp blade; the companion cavalry, like a surging tide, retreated just as quickly. Before Padikas' astonished eyes, those hands tore through his prized armor, severed his head, and turned his body into pieces…

The first one is solved.

Immediately afterwards, I cut down my way through the enemy cavalry formation—and then, what stood in my way was the famous phalanx of Machington.

Spears like a forest of iron, shields like a solid wall—the spears wielded by the warriors in the last rank of the spear formation reached as long as seven meters. And they were all wielded with one hand! These warriors held their line during the decisive battle against the Persian King Darius, fighting continuously for hours with spears held in this single-handed manner, ultimately causing the enemy to collapse. They were truly the most resilient army.

The army was commanded by the largest number of Heroic Spirits, a total of three: Ptolemy, the Egyptian king with blond hair and blue eyes, bare-chested and wielding a black greatsword, whose rank was Saber and who was a C-class Heroic Spirit; Peizon, the Median governor, wearing black tight-fitting leather armor and equipped with a short sword, whose rank was Assassin and who was a C-class Heroic Spirit; and Leonardo, the Phrygian governor, wearing golden armor and wielding a long-handled battle axe, whose rank was Berserker and who was a C-class Heroic Spirit.

Under the command of these three renowned generals, the entire Macedonian phalanx moved like a living thing, its spear tips pressing down relentlessly.

Within a mere fifteen meters of the enemy, the Macedonian phalanx pikemen charged forward, spears in hand—almost simultaneously, dozens of spears thrust forth as they charged in formation.

Meanwhile, the commander of the second rank, dressed in a white robe adorned with gold ornaments, and looking somewhat older than the others, was Lycimarcus, whose rank was Caster. He roared as his javelin throwers swiftly hurled thousands of heavy javelins.

Arestonus, a C-rank Archer-class Heroic Spirit clad in heavy armor and wielding javelins and shields, commanding the third wave, also gave the order for the elite archers from Crete, Greece, to draw their bows—and the rain of javelins and arrows seemed to have eyes, shooting straight in my direction.

At the same time, Pei Song's figure darkened and he disappeared from the spot.

"Hmph—" The next moment, I suddenly grabbed Pei Song, who appeared behind me and was about to draw his sword to stab me—then I turned around and used him as a human shield to block the barrage of javelins and arrows. The poor Assassin was instantly turned into a hedgehog.

the second.

Then, Gu threw the hedgehog-shaped object onto the tips of the Macedonian spears, inflicting several more wounds on him. Immediately afterward, Gu, now half-werewolf, extended his claws and deflected the spears aimed at him, squeezing into the spear formation.

At this moment, Ptolemy stepped forward with his sword, a black shadow flashing as his greatsword swept towards Gu's neck.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Fall of the King

Bare-chested, his slender body seemed to swell in an instant—a muscular physique suddenly appeared. It was clear that Ptolemy had concentrated almost all of his strength in this strike. He focused his mind, hoping the move would succeed.

However, it was still too naive.

Incredibly sharp and resilient claws blocked Ptolemy's jet-black greatsword in an instant. To his astonishment, the blade of the black greatsword was torn in several places by the wolf's claws, followed by a sharp crack. The greatsword, undoubtedly of Noble Phantasm quality, was thus broken in two.

"How could this be—" In utter astonishment, Ptolemy slowed his movements, and the next moment his head flew off. Arterial blood spurted high into the air, and his entire face was still filled with disbelief.

The third.

At this moment, three of Alexander's seven bodyguards were gone. Seeing his beloved generals dying one by one, the conqueror's eyes widened in fury. He spurred his horse forward—at the same time, a man with long black hair, a cold gaze, dressed in fine clothes, and holding a slender sword beside him also reacted and followed his king, charging forward.

His name is Hephaestion. Rank: Rider, C-class Servant.

Meanwhile, the Macedonian pike phalanx was in disarray. While the Macedonian warriors, wielding their extra-long pikes, were indeed formidable when their formation was impeccable, once the ranks broke and hand-to-hand combat began, their long pikes proved to be a significant hindrance in close combat.

Conversely, the half-werewolf, Lonely, possessed several times greater close-quarters combat abilities. His attacks were exaggerated; a single sweeping strike could often cleave multiple Macedonian spearmen, armor and spears severed. The entire pike phalanx was thus gradually destroyed. Lonely, relying solely on his claws, carved a bloody path through the Macedonian formation.

The Macedonian soldiers were already incredibly resilient veterans. After becoming Heroic Spirits, their strength increased dramatically—it could be said that almost every one of them possessed power at least at the level of a two-winged angel. The combined strength of the entire Macedonian phalanx surpassed, if not greater than, my former Celestial Central Army.

Seeing their spear formation crumble, the Macedonian pikemen quickly dropped their spears, drew their bronze short swords, and engaged in hand-to-hand combat with their large shields. At the same time, Iskandar and Hephaestion, who had joined forces with Leonardo, the last commander of the phalanx, broke through their own ranks and came before me.

"For trash like this, such ability is indeed quite good."

Looking down from the sky, Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, chuckled and sighed. Beside her, Lancelot, known as the Mad Dog, was trapped in a sword array composed of thousands of Noble Phantasms. Although, thanks to his exceptional skill, Lancelot was currently only suffering from disheveled armor and a helmet half-shaved off, revealing his demonic face, he wasn't seriously injured. However, breaking free would be extremely difficult.

Meanwhile, Lancelot's extremely powerful ability to seize magical artifacts and his endless martial arts training, for some reason, had no effect on these dull bronze swords. This was one of the reasons why he couldn't break through.

Looking at the sword formation again, a cold light condensed on each of the ancient bronze swords. They were indeed B-rank Noble Phantasms. Moreover, each one looked exactly the same. They looked like... well, like a certain demonic sword that hadn't appeared in a long time.

"How could such an interesting scene be ruined by a mad dog?" Gilgamesh chuckled to himself. He watched as the guy who had humiliated him at the docks now struggled to break free of the sword formation, unable to escape. He couldn't help but let out a cold laugh. At the same time, he thought to himself: That guy wasn't lying to me... this thing does indeed have a tiny bit of use...

Meanwhile, the battle on the ground had reached a fever pitch. Of the tens of thousands of Macedonian phalanx pikemen, nearly half had been killed by my hand, and the remaining ones were now cautious and dared not advance easily.

My main adversaries now are the five Heroic Spirits led by Iskandar.

Iskandar, being the strongest, engaged me in direct combat, while Hephaestion and Leonardo flanked me, providing support in attack and defense. Lysimachus and Arestronus, each wielding a longbow and javelin, roamed around providing ranged support.

In this way, this small group fought quite well against the lone opponent. At least it seems that the situation is under control.

The Macedonian soldiers, unable to participate in this level of fighting, simply stood around, forming a circle, clapping their spears and shields together, and shouting encouragement for their king and generals.

"boring."

Her Majesty the Queen, who was a close friend of mine, could naturally see the faint smile on my lips, even though I was in the middle of the battle and seemed to have been suppressed.

"This guy is really... after all these years, his personality is still so awful."

Even Gilgamesh, watching from the sidelines, could see the truth, and Iskandar, caught in the middle of it, naturally understood as well. He and his men, after such a long and arduous battle, were exhausted and already panting heavily. Yet, the man opposite them hadn't even let out a breath, appearing remarkably flexible. And the werewolf's regenerative abilities were truly impressive. In just a short while, the injuries he had inadvertently sustained in the battle formation had almost completely healed. Aside from a few holes in his silver-gray fur coat, which had turned a dark red, he was perfectly fine, as if nothing had happened.

This made Iskandar, who was already wary of him, even more anxious. He also secretly blamed his two allies—from the very beginning, he hadn't intended to single-handedly put in the effort—but unexpectedly, both the black-clad berserker and the golden, neurotic archer vanished without a trace after entering his Reality Marble. "Where are you going, you silly boy?!"

At this point, I figured it was pretty much over. Aside from Iskandar, who was barely holding onto some stamina, the other Servants were all panting heavily and their attacks were clumsy. Continuing the fight was pointless.

So... let's just end it here.

Immediately afterward, Iskandar felt a blur before his eyes, and the enemy opposite him vanished in an instant—before he could even feel a pang of fear, the Conqueror looked back to find his unparalleled generals and legendary army lying scattered and broken on the ground like trash…