Fate: How About a New Savior?

If he had a choice, Shiomi wouldn't want to be casting Magecraft this frequently or without pause.

...Even so, this level of casting was already beyond what most human Magus could ever hope to achieve.

It was a technique he had learned from Touko Aozaki—using Runes to create more Runes. All he had to do was inscribe the first one, and the following runes would automatically compose the next spells according to his will, activating the moment they were completed.

The upside was that it allowed for a sort of semi-automatic casting. The downside: diminished spell potency.

Against an opponent with Magic Resistance, it was enough to restrain—but not enough to hurt.

If it weren't for someone like the fake Enkidu, who could overwhelm foes purely through brute-force weapon output, Shiomi wouldn't bother with such inefficient tactics.

In both close-quarters and long-range combat, the fake Enkidu was a formidable opponent. Shiomi's clones couldn't match him and were picked off one after another as soon as they showed an opening.

As the last of the clones collapsed and vanished before him, Shiomi evaded the chains and weapons his Magecraft couldn't intercept and charged toward the fake Enkidu.

"Oh? No more clones? Coming at me yourself now? If you're that eager to die, I'll gladly oblige."

Tossing aside a disabled clone like it was trash, the fake Enkidu sprinted forward, and the two clashed again at close range.

Now within striking distance once more, Shiomi reaffirmed it—this impostor wasn't to be underestimated. His attacks weren't elegant or refined; they relied solely on overwhelming physical strength and bestial instincts.

He was like a raw, uncut gemstone.

Shiomi couldn't even tell whether training in martial arts would make him stronger—or dull him by forcing structure onto his wild power.

"You're on a whole different level from your clones," Enkidu muttered, lowering his stance and sidestepping Shiomi's thrust to the throat. He countered, reaching straight for Shiomi's neck.

"Are you a little too focused on me?" Shiomi sneered.

A white warhorse broke through the storm, and atop it, the King of Knights let out a thunderous battle cry. Artoria drove the gleaming white Holy Lance straight toward the fake Enkidu.

Abandoning his counter against Shiomi, the fake Enkidu pivoted on his left foot and turned to meet the blow. With one hand wrapped in razor-sharp mana, he struck toward the lance.

Sparks erupted as the two weapons clashed. The Holy Lance pierced through the fake Enkidu's left shoulder, but Artoria wasn't unscathed—his counter-swing split open her arm, and blood spilled from the wound, staining her cloak in red.

Dun Stallion let out a fierce neigh and raised its front hooves high before slamming them down with force.

The fake Enkidu tore himself free from the Holy Lance, flesh and muscle ripping away in the process, and was flung several meters back, narrowly avoiding being trampled.

Shiomi immediately activated the mana link between Master and Servant, healing the wound on Artoria's arm.

Then he turned to look at the fake Enkidu. Even though his shoulder had been torn open—bone and all—his body was already regenerating, the missing flesh rapidly reforming before Shiomi's eyes.

"Life Authority?" Shiomi exclaimed.

"It's not as grand as that. Just the power of the Holy Grail," the fake Enkidu replied casually, rolling his shoulder with ease. "And besides, this isn't a true Reality Marble—just a counterfeit that isolates us from the outside world. As long as I'm standing on solid ground, my mana supply is limitless..."

As if planting despair in their hearts, he explained it all without hesitation.

"So tell me, Master of Chaldea—how much longer can your mana hold out?"

He raised his hand, and all the chains and weapons—those overwhelming Shiomi's Magecraft to its limits and needing only a few more breaths to break through—vanished into thin air.

"Thinking of going easy on us?" Shiomi didn't feel any relief—in fact, a sharper sense of danger crept in.

"Not really. I'm just sick of this endless fighting." The fake Enkidu knelt on one knee, placing both hands on the snowy ground. "My mother's still waiting. I don't have time to waste on you."

Beneath his feet, the land began to pulse with a strange surge of mana.

Shiomi's instincts screamed—this wasn't the same kind of Noble Phantasm used to create and launch weapons.

If Gilgamesh had a hidden trump card beyond his Gate of Babylon, then it only made sense that Enkidu would have one too.

...Even if it was just a fake.

Before Shiomi could issue any command, Artoria yanked the reins. Dun Stallion reared up and carried her skyward.

A Noble Phantasm that dangerous could only be met with another Noble Phantasm.

"Oh? Planning to unleash the Holy Lance? Then vanish with style, Lion King of the Sixth Singularity." The mana beneath the fake Enkidu surged violently.

Artoria hovered in midair, raising the Holy Lance high above her.

"Thirteen Restraints, Release—Round Table Resolution, commence!"

The Holy Lance was originally the "Tower of Light" that anchored the surface of the world. Only by undergoing the same process as the Star Holy Sword, and sealing it with thirteen restraints, could it barely take shape as a Noble Phantasm.

To release its True Name, at least half of those restraints had to be undone.

And that choice—had to be made with her twelve most trusted knights.

"This battle is for survival." —Kay, acknowledged.

"This battle is against a foe greater than ourselves." —Bedivere, acknowledged.

"This battle is not one that betrays humanity." —Gaheris, acknowledged.

"This battle is in pursuit of truth." —Agravain, acknowledged.

"This battle is not a war against the fae." —Lancelot, acknowledged.

"This battle is not for selfish desire." —Galahad, acknowledged.

"This is a battle to save the world!" —Arthur, acknowledged.

Artoria aimed the Tower of Light in her hand directly at the fake Enkidu, releasing seven of the thirteen restraints—including her own.

This was the edge of what a Singularity could bear. Beyond this, no one could predict what distortions might unfold.

"Holy Lance—lift the anchor!"

The fake Enkidu bared his teeth, smiling with twisted delight.

"Mother is furious. Hear, as the Sea roars of ruin…"

The same Tower of Light that had once fallen to oppose her now descended again—but this time, Artoria wasn't the enemy. She stood as an ally.

And the only force that could rival this pillar—was either another one like it, or the god-crafted weapon before them now.

The mana gathered beneath the fake Enkidu erupted upward in a spiraling storm, wrapping his body in a vortex of raw energy.

Then, with him at its center, the mana transformed into a colossal ring of light that pierced earth and sky.

It embodied the concept of life itself.

A fire sparked to overcome primordial fear—a cry from the origin-mother, powerful enough to devour everything under heaven.

"Nammu Duranki: O' Mother, I Give You the Cry of Beginning!"

The heavens thundered as that strike met the very reflection of the "Tower" that upheld the world.

"Rhongomyniad: The Lance That Shines to the End of the World!"

...

(100 Chapters Ahead)

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