Fate: How About a New Savior?

At the city gate...

The battle against Lancelot was still raging when the Tower of the End suddenly activated. Gravity around the Singularity vanished, and the end of the world began pressing in from the direction of Camelot.

Worse, the Tower of the End began firing into the collapsing city. Its indiscriminate bombardment made the already dangerous fight with Lancelot even more perilous.

"You bastard—that's the Holy Lance!"

Mordred, her wounds slowly healing, shoved Sakura aside to dodge a falling blast. In that instant, she recognized it.

It was the same weapon her father had once used to punish the Knights of the Round Table. A restricted release strike from the Holy Lance.

Even Mordred had nearly died taking one head-on—how could Chaldea's Masters possibly survive? Mash had no choice but to keep her Noble Phantasm active, shielding everyone.

"But if this keeps up..."

Lancelot looked ready to unleash his Noble Phantasm.

This time it was Arondight Overload.

"Damn it! If I just had a real weapon—" Mordred cut herself off as her eyes landed on the slender sword at Mash's waist. She reached out and snatched it. "I'm borrowing this!"

"...Yes!" Mash answered quickly.

Just then, Scáthach raised her hand, and the red spear flew back into her grasp.

"Message from Gray—Add suddenly awakened and she returned the red spear to you, Scáthach!" Romani's voice came through.

"Is that so? Looks like once the Tower of the End was activated, the reason for Add's slumber disappeared," Scáthach replied, then charged forward alongside Mordred.

The girls continued supporting Nitocris, using Magecraft to cover them and helping Mash resist the falling blasts from the Holy Lance.

Mordred swung the borrowed sword, though it felt unnaturally light in her hands.

It lacked its usual weight, and was easily knocked aside by a single swing from Lancelot.

It was clear—this couldn't be called a proper Gift. Rather than something bestowed by the Lion King, it felt more like Agravain had arbitrarily modified how the Gift worked, endlessly draining Lancelot's potential.

A merciless choice. A cold-blooded judgment.

But for Camelot, still resisting the encroaching army and launching relentless counterattacks, it was the most effective strategy.

It fit Agravain's iron-blooded, selfless nature perfectly.

According to intel from Romani, Agravain was currently fighting Morgan at full force at the city gate, while Shiomi's group was clashing with Gawain.

The tide still favored the Lion King. They had to bring down Lancelot quickly and push the front line to the Tower of the End.

That was Scáthach's conclusion.

Realizing she'd lost her composure, she quickly forced herself to focus.

With two Holy Swords, his own formidable abilities, and the effect of the Gift, Lancelot had become a relentless force of destruction. Other than Scáthach and Mordred, no one could even approach him.

Even Enforcement Knights attempting to assist were instantly cut down.

He distinguished neither ally nor enemy—slaughtering everything in reach.

"With my voice, I tear the earth asunder!"

Sakura's low voice echoed across the field.

It was the Imaginary Numbers Magecraft she had once used in her desert duel with Mordred.

From the fractured ground surged waves of mana, racing toward Lancelot.

To break through his unknown level of Magic Resistance, Sakura unleashed her most powerful spell in one go.

"Arrrrr—!!"

It landed.

Her Magecraft tore through Lancelot's body with merciless precision. A guttural sound rumbled from his throat—whether in pain or rage was unclear.

But one thing was certain: even wounded, Lancelot would not back down.

He would attack. And attack. And attack.

In his case, offense truly was the best defense.

"Then I will too—"

Scáthach dodged Lancelot's sword and freed one hand to unleash Primordial Runes. From the shattered earth, mud surged up and coiled around Lancelot's legs.

It was only a temporary restraint. Lancelot let out a vaguely questioning growl and crossed both swords in front of him.

The intense mana reaction made everyone realize what was coming.

He was going to unleash the True Names of both Noble Phantasms—at once.

Few Servants with multiple Noble Phantasms ever attempted such a thing. Whether in a standard Holy Grail War or a Singularity, the mana required to release a Noble Phantasm was a nearly unbearable burden for any Servant.

In other words, if one disregarded that burden and chose to self-destruct, it could be done.

But the combined power of Arondight and Clarent unleashed simultaneously could obliterate both allies and enemies gathered at the city gate.

Sakura and Scáthach cast their Magecraft in rapid succession, but neither could stop Lancelot from continuing.

Nitocris had already begun preparing the Mirror of the Underworld, ready to evacuate the girls to safety.

No one could say for certain whether Mash's currently-deployed Noble Phantasm alone could hold back the onslaught.

As Lancelot let out a long, battlefield-piercing howl, Mordred and Scáthach braced to evade—but Mash suddenly looked up and charged forward, shield raised.

The illusion of the ideal city advanced with her, expanding to include both Scáthach and Mordred within its protection.

But that was only secondary.

Mash's true aim was to face Lancelot head-on.

The dual Noble Phantasms exploded with mana, slamming into her and forcibly driving her backward.

"Hang in there, Mash!"

Ritsuka raised her hand, and two Command Spells flared in succession—empowering Mash with the strength to brace her shield and hold her ground.

Blinding light swept across the battlefield at the gate. Enforcement Knights and Camelot's soldiers were caught in the blast, consumed by the unleashed power.

The mana surge was so dense, even Chaldea momentarily lost the ability to track the outcome.

As the smoke slowly cleared, Mash's shield arm trembled. She was completely drained.

Though still inexperienced, she had managed to block Lancelot's power with her comrades' support.

Lancelot, having expended an enormous amount of mana in an instant, began to move sluggishly.

Or at least—sluggish for a Servant.

A flash of white and a streak of violet burst through the smoke, attacking from both flanks.

Mordred's sword. Scáthach's spear.

Lancelot raised his swords to defend, but in the very next moment, found himself immobilized.

The space around him had been sealed.

"You were the real target."

Scáthach released the first spear—used to lock the space—and aimed her second directly at Lancelot's heart.

"Fade away with Camelot, Knight of the Lake! Gáe Bolg Alternative - Soaring Spear of Piercing Death!"

"Ahrrrr... Ohrrrrr..."

Both of Lancelot's swords fell to the ground. Blood poured from his mouth and chest, washing away the crimson glow in his eyes.

"Back to normal, you damn bastard." Mordred picked up her sword.

"...Yeah..." Lancelot showed no anger over being controlled—only a quiet sigh of relief.

"Maybe... this is the end I deserved."

...

(100 Chapters Ahead)

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