Abnormality In Type-Moon: Madness Of Animeverse

"Arghhhh!"

Di Emon screamed in agony as several golden weapons pierced through his limbs, pinning him firmly to the ground.

The searing pain radiated from his arms and legs, forcing an anguished cry from his throat.

"Master!"

Jeanne finally snapped out of her daze and rushed to his side.

Although his limbs had been completely impaled, injuries like these were far from fatal for a seasoned magus.

"My question remains unanswered. Who gave you permission to flee, mongrel?"

Gilgamesh's icy voice echoed as he stood atop a streetlamp, his expression grim and murderous.

He had promised Roy that as long as Roy entertained him, he could decide Di Emon's fate. Yet here was this pathetic magus, attempting to flee without a word—blatantly ignoring his royal decree.

Pinned to the ground, blood pooling beneath him, Di Emon grit his teeth and glared at the gilded Servant with a mixture of rage and humiliation.

"A magus truly is an insufferable creature from beginning to end," Gilgamesh sneered, looking down with undisguised disdain. "Had I known, I would've ordered the Grail to eradicate the existence of magi entirely ten years ago."

"…What did you just say?"

Di Emon's eyes widened in stunned disbelief.

"Eyes down, mongrel!" Gilgamesh barked, his elegant features twisting into fury. "Who permitted you to gaze upon my visage?"

Golden ripples appeared in the air, numbering over a dozen now, as Gilgamesh's irritation grew.

Roy silently cursed.

Why on earth did Di Emon have to provoke Golden Sparkle of all people?

If this fool died at Gilgamesh's hands, it would rob Roy of the chance to exact his own vengeance!

Still, Di Emon's shock lingered. Raising his head weakly, he stared at the King of Heroes, his face a blend of disbelief and despair.

But amidst the swirling chaos, a sinister thought surfaced in his mind.

"Wait… What did you mean by ten years ago? Are you saying that the catastrophe back then… it was you?"

"Indeed," Gilgamesh answered with a wicked smile, his eyes glinting with malice. "More precisely, it was my Master who orchestrated it."

"Surely, you're not one of those laughable justice-seekers, are you, mongrel? Do you dream of halting tragedy wherever it dares to rear its head?"

Roy grimaced. He could tell from Gilgamesh's expression that the Heroic Spirit was reveling in the idea of crushing such ideals—a rare pleasure for him.

Di Emon, however, fell silent, his features contorting into an unsettling blend of laughter and tears.

"Lancer…" he croaked, his voice trembling with equal parts madness and sorrow. "You don't need to recognize me as your Master. It doesn't matter if you've joined that traitor… But here and now, I give you one final command—kill that golden Servant!"

His laughter spiraled into hysteria, his face a grotesque mask of despair.

"Is he… has he completely lost it?" Roy wondered aloud, his frustration mounting.

Just then, a scarlet glow erupted from the back of Di Emon's hand.

"Damn it, this idiot!" Roy cursed, his heart sinking.

He activated his Mystic Eyes, hoping to intervene, but it was too late.

Command Seals—small but potent spells—could be activated almost instantaneously by the Master's sheer will. Without constant vigilance, stopping them in time was nearly impossible.

By the time Roy's Mystic Eyes locked onto the seal, the final stroke of Di Emon's Command Seal had already transformed into a wave of magical energy, forcing Jeanne into action.

Bound by the Command Seal's power, Jeanne raised her twin guns and fired at the sole remaining streetlamp.

With a crack, the lamp shattered.

Gilgamesh leaped gracefully from the falling debris, landing a short distance away.

But his face no longer bore its usual amused arrogance. Instead, it was a mask of cold fury, his anger erupting like a volcano.

"A mere mongrel dares to make this king stand on the same ground as you? Unforgivable!"

With a gesture, dozens of golden portals flared open, unleashing a torrent of Noble Phantasms like a rainstorm.

The weapons targeted Jeanne, now charging toward him, and Di Emon, lying helplessly on the ground.

Jeanne rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the deadly barrage.

But she couldn't stop. The Command Seal's compulsion forced her to engage Gilgamesh, no matter how outmatched she was.

Meanwhile, Di Emon lay motionless.

And in that moment, he had no desire to move.

The golden blades descended like meteors, piercing his body in a flurry of unrelenting destruction. They tore through his chest and shattered his vital organs, including his heart.

Blood poured from his wounds, pooling beneath him in a crimson lake.

For the first time, Di Emon knew he couldn't fake his death to escape.

This was the end.

As his vision blurred and his strength faded, he caught glimpses of the chaos unfolding around him—Jeanne clashing with Gilgamesh, and the homunculus traitor glaring at him with pure hatred.

"Looking back… What was the point of my life?"

His entire existence had been defined by loss.

Losing those who loved him.

Losing those he loved.

And finally, losing even those who didn't deserve love.

In the dim haze of his fading consciousness, he felt a familiar warmth—a hand gently brushing his head, like a memory from long ago.

"Father… Mother…"

With those final words, Di Emon's eyes lost their light, his breathing ceased, and his four-century-long life came to an unremarkable end.

---

"What an insufferable troublemaker!" Roy spat, his fury palpable as he stared at the lifeless body.

"…No," he muttered, forcing himself to calm down. "From his perspective, this might've been the only right choice."

Whether in Gilgamesh's hands or his, Di Emon's death was inevitable.

If he was going to die, it made sense to use his last Command Seal and provoke the King of Heroes—causing as much chaos as possible in his final moments.

"Saber, assist Lancer!" Roy barked, shifting his attention to the ongoing battle.

"Understood."

Musashi sprang into action, her blade glowing with radiant energy as she charged toward Gilgamesh, aiming directly for his head.

For now, the goal was simple: disrupt Gilgamesh and create an opening to turn the tide.

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