Shirou, who returned from the Fairy Kingdom

"This is--"

Lancer looked stunned.

Why wasn't "King of Extreme Punishment" activated?

Why didn't Yu's stake pierce his heart?

Compared to this, what's different about this unusual feeling I'm experiencing now is...

"—Inherent Marble."

Shirou explained expressionlessly.

"The Great Forbidden Spell that materializes the mental world and erodes reality... is one of the Noble Phantasms I possess."

Its name is "Unlimited Blade Works" —

This inherent boundary is a domain under my control, and does not belong to your territory.

In other words—as long as you are within this barrier, you are no longer the "Guardian Ghost General of the Nation."

This is the truth behind Vlad III's experience of a significant decline in physical performance.

The land he now stands on is no longer the Romanian territory where Vlad III was hailed as a hero, so his fame is practically zero.

Once he left Romania, Vlad III was nothing more than a bloodthirsty vampire.

In contrast, the "Black" swordsman is arguably the most famous in the world, the nameless king celebrated for millennia.

Of course, even disregarding fame, their abilities during their lifetimes differed greatly.

The "Black" spearmen can still smoothly produce stakes, but the stakes themselves are not as powerful or tricky as before.

Shirou didn't even need to throw his sword anymore; he simply swung his "Demon Sword Clarent" and cut down all the stakes.

"whispering sound……!"

The "Black" spearman launched an attack and then leaped violently backward.

However, having lost his land bonus, his stats were far inferior to Shirou's, and he was easily caught in close combat.

"Why aren't you firing the sword anymore!?"

Vlad III had long lost his initial elegance, and he roared and questioned.

Could there be some restriction in this bounded field that prevents him from projecting swords again?

"Huh? How could that be? You've got it wrong. You're mistaken about that."

There is only one reason why Shirou did this.

The silver sword, a symbol of British monarchy, suddenly burst forth with a torrent of crimson magic.

Shirou unleashes the true form of the Silver Demon Sword, channeling all his power and fury as he slashes at the "Black" Lancer.

Use your body to feel my rage...

You dare touch my son? I'll never forgive you…!!

"—'Clarent Blood Mordred'—the excessive pampering of my unworthy son!!!"

Crimson lightning engulfed everything.

--------------

Volume 5, Chapter 220: Aiko: I Want to Unite

"What is this...!?"

Even Atalanta, who had hunted numerous monsters in the mythical era and even successfully defeated the goddess's monster, Calydon, couldn't help but hold her breath upon seeing that terrifying appearance.

"Are you here, Archer?"

The great hero Karna, whose entire body was shrouded in a powerful aura, faced off against the enemy while glancing at the reinforcements behind him.

Atalanta frowned: "Hey, Lancer, what's going on? What happened?"

"Um...is that thing...a Berserker?"

Spartacus, the "Red" Berserker.

Two days ago, he was captured by Vlad III, the "Black" Lancer, and forcibly transferred to a different master.

Although he still belongs to the "Red" faction, he is now an enemy of Karna and Atalanta.

However, this was not what surprised the Greek hunter.

“Ooh o ...

Is this even possible?

Atalanta instantly mistook the illusion for a small mountain, then wondered if it was a mountain of corpses—until later she realized it was Spartacus.

If Berserker had only increased in size tenfold, Archer wouldn't be so speechless; the key issue is his current state.

It has eight arms, three of which are not so much without joints, but rather without bones, looking like the tentacles of a sea monster, capable of blowing away a forest when swung.

Several insect-like legs grew from his thick, wooden legs, probably to distribute the weight since his original legs couldn't bear it.

Although the berserker's head was almost buried in his neck, dinosaur-like upper and lower jaws protruded from his shoulders, and five basketball-sized eyeballs grew from his shoulders, neck, and abdomen.

This is the Noble Phantasm that Spartacus possessed when he was summoned as a Berserker, "Crying Warmonger".

A Noble Phantasm that is constantly activated and evolved from a legend, capable of converting a portion of the damage received from enemies into magical energy stored within the body.

The efficiency of magic conversion increases as Spartacus's stamina decreases. Magic accumulated in his body like this can be used to enhance Spartacus's abilities.

As the accumulated magic power increases, it will begin to grow larger, with the injured parts protruding like tumors.

When it reaches its maximum size, it will completely transform into an alien form, and in this state, Spartacus cannot be controlled at all even with a three-stroke Command Seal.

This Noble Phantasm symbolizes the rebellious fighter Spartacus's obsession with victory.

To win, one can abandon the appearance of a human. Eight arms are certainly stronger than two. If the weight exceeds what one can bear, then one can simply increase the number of legs for support.

For Berserker, who firmly believes that the more injured he is, the closer he is to victory, this level of situation is nothing to worry about.

Atalanta said with a mocking expression, "Even the son of the sun god in Hindu mythology is finding it troublesome?"

She was actually a bit strange; although the berserker had become incredibly terrifying, he shouldn't be an enemy that Lancer couldn't handle.

At this moment, Spartacus launched an attack on the two.

The earth was dug out like a pudding and thrown out like a cannonball.

Archer and Lancer skillfully dodged the attack.

"I've come up with an idea that I need to borrow your walking distance."

Karna stated his plan without any expression.

Atalanta lured Spartacus to the vicinity of the Yggdrasil's castle, where she detonated him, blowing up the enemy's stronghold along with it.

When Spartacus, who has stored his magic to its limit, dies, he will create a self-destruction powerful enough to destroy everything around him.

"Beast Roar" is not only effective against people, but also against armies, and can even be used against cities.

Although he manifested in the world as a Berserker, Spartacus in his previous life was a highly respected hero with outstanding military abilities.

But the main reason he was so beloved was because he was a hero who was "inevitably able to turn the tide and win." For the rebel soldiers, the more desperate the situation seemed, the more certain victory appeared ahead.

While Karna was keeping him occupied, he thought of using this ability of his.

Spartacus's self-destruction was so powerful that even Karna, who possessed golden armor that reduced the damage to 1/10, dared not take it rashly.

Delivering a fatal blow to a berserker and then quickly escaping—only the "Black" cavalry and archers can do this.

Unfortunately, Rider is currently locked in a fierce battle with the enemy Archer, completely ignoring orders.

Atalanta leaped off a large tree that had been easily blown away and smashed by a berserker, turning back to ask a question.

"But...won't the Holy Grail be destroyed in the same way?"

"According to Assassin's investigation, the Greater Grail seems to be hidden underground in that castle."

Furthermore, the Holy Grail isn't something that can be destroyed by a pile of rubble; it'll be fine as long as it doesn't suffer a direct attack from Spartacus.

"I understand. I'll try it as you say."

Atalanta drew a large bow disproportionate to her slender frame and shot an arrow at Spartacus's forehead.

"Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh!"

The berserker roared and charged at her.

This is a monster beyond Calydon... Atalanta thought to herself as she took a step forward.

……

……

"...Heave-ho."

Shirou carried the Silver Demon Sword on his shoulder.

On the plains where he stood, the raging crimson lightning left huge marks on the earth, looking like the claw marks of a dragon.

Mordred stared at the scene before him, his shoulders trembling, unable to speak.

The magic sword unleashed by the king's infusion of magic, "Clarent Blood Mordred"—

In terms of power, it surpasses even that of the original user.

However, this is not because Shirou himself has stronger stats, but for other reasons.

"Spoiling" is better than "rebellion," that's a more reasonable explanation.

"Has the anger... been vented?"

"Ah, thanks to you."

Shirou looked at his opponent—

The "Black" spearman, leaning on his spear, managed to keep his shattered body from falling.

The elegance and ruthlessness of being a king have long since vanished; now, all that sustains him is the composure of being a hero.

That was the only reason he wasn't instantly vaporized by the torrent of demonic swords; he barely managed to survive by using the stake to block most of the damage.

However, this amount of strength is far too far from victory.

The outcome is already obvious.

The current Lancer no longer possesses the means to contend with the "Black" Swordsman.

—Am I going to die?

A sudden, almost certain thought emerged in the mind of the "Black" Lancer.

If they are defeated, it will be equivalent to the complete collapse of the "Black" camp.

But there was nothing he could do about it; he was too confident in his own power and too reliant on the faith derived from his territory.

More importantly, this time the opponent is really bad.

Vlad III, a devout believer, knew all too well how powerful the heroic spirit was, revered by the Church as the "Savior" and the King who held the Holy Grail.

If there's anything else that surprised you—

It's about how even a Holy King like him, who has already reached the "end," would still be interested in a replica of the Holy Grail.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't the legendary ancestral king of Britain already possess the true Holy Grail?"

Upon hearing Vlad III's question, Shirou was puzzled. After a moment's thought, he answered.

"No, I have no interest in the wish-granting machines created by magicians, my Master..."

Haha, she's a strange child; she seems to have a different understanding of the Holy Grail.

"Since you're not interested in the Holy Grail, then why..."

Shirou glanced at the distant rooftop garden.

"It seems that this Holy Grail War is hiding a conspiracy that neither you nor I know about."

Perhaps that's why I was called here.