"Senpai!"
"Master!"
"Fujimaru!"
...
Everyone was calling his na, but Fujimaru Ritsuka barely heard them. Confronted by that mocking, crimson gaze—and the deathly black light that tore through ti, space, and the protection of countless Servants to reach him—he could only stare wide-eyed, his teal irises reflecting the shocked, fearful faces of his companions.
His arms, raised instinctively to shield himself, and his Chaldea-issued Master Mystic Code, gave him no comfort at all.
In that mont, ti stretched endlessly. The weight of powerlessness filled his mind.
Am I going to die...?
So unwilling. After enduring so much with everyone—Romani, Da Vinci, Mash... all of us—just one step away from completing the restoration of humanity... and in the end, I still can’t do anything.
If it were the A-Team seniors... they probably would have succeeded....
At that instant, a clear and spirited female voice rang in his ears from behind.
"Lord Fujimaru, now’s not the ti to give up—!!"
"Wandering Tales of Shana-oh—Fourth Act! Dan-no-Ura: Eight Boat Leap!"
At the very brink of disaster, a petite figure, blazing with golden light, descended—an ultra-stylish, even flamboyant Japanese Servant.
Her voice jolted Fujimaru’s frozen mind back to life. In her hand, the katana Usugiri shimred with a brilliant golden fla that surged down its modest blade.
Her body split into eight afterimages—eight golden flashes accelerating through the air. In the blink of an eye, she tackled Fujimaru head-on, sending him flying.
Before he could cry out in pain—Splurt—!
The black light descended. His right leg, not yet fully withdrawn, was severed in an instant. White bone exposed, blood mist sprayed—but the searing pain and his ruined body weren’t what consud his thoughts.
Because: "Ushiwakamaru—!"
Her broken form hit the ground hard. That sa mix of heroic and mischievous beauty, just as he rembered from the Seventh Singularity in Babylonia—but now drained of all color.
Cut diagonally in half at the waist, blood spurted violently as her delicate body collapsed.
Her long black hair, once tied back in gallant style, now hung limp. The broken hilt of her blade slid into the deep trench carved by the Subspace Ribbon. There was a tragic beauty in the scene, beyond words.
Even with fa-based reinforcent and the holand advantage, Ushiwakamaru was, ultimately, still human.
Blocking Selene’s attack head-on was impossible. She had only barely arrived in ti by pouring every ounce of magical energy into one final burst—risking her Spirit Origin’s total collapse to intercept the decapitating strike.
Her katana Usugiri, her eight shadow-clones, even her own body—all were cleaved by the Subspace Ribbon in a flash.
"Ushiwakamaru..."
Agonizing pain shot through his severed leg, twisting Fujimaru’s face in tornt. He stumbled forward and dropped beside her, hastily cradling what remained of her upper body.
That suffocating pressure—seeing his comrades fall one after another, dying for him—shattered his composure.
Buzz!
Warm, healing light shone from his palm. With wild eyes, he poured magic into her, heedless of her broken state. He could only think of one thing: Save her!
"Gugh... Lord Fujimaru... this ti, I made it in ti, right? I guess this... makes up for last ti. Sorry for the trouble..."
Blood filled her throat, forcing out ragged, broken gasps. Ushiwakamaru clenched her brows, trying to raise a hand to his face—but her strength was already gone, vanishing like a dam burst.
In her peripheral vision, Ushiwakamaru could see only her severed arm, cut clean below the elbow.
"Hang in there, Ushiwakamaru! rlin, Artoria—help her!!"
But rlin only shook his head with regret.
At the sa ti—
Rumble-rumble—!
CRACK—!
The earth quaked.
No—more accurately, the entire world trembled.
A spaceti quake!
As if in response to the violent aura erupting from Selene, the Temple of Ti beyond the World’s Boundary finally descended.
At that very mont, across the globe, violent Age of Gods magical energy surged.
In the sky, the Sacred Temple manifested from illusion into reality—its design evoking both Jerusalem and rich Hebrew iconography.
Its miraculous appearance sent countless believers around the world to their knees, crying out to "the Lord," "God," and more.
The Grand Temple of Ti had begun rging with this world. The 72 Demon Gods once commanded by King Solomon now erged through the rift torn by Selene, taking form on this land.
"Senpai... Ushiwakamaru is... You have to stay strong."
Holding her shield tightly, Mash’s voice trembled as she glanced from Fujimaru to the heavens where the Temple ford, then toward the distant, still-thundering battlefield.
"Cough... don’t waste your strength, Lord Fujimaru. My Spirit Origin is already broken...." Ushiwakamaru forced a smile.
"I took my life at Koromogawa Hall... History marks as a failure. But you’re different. The future of humanity lies in your hands."
"Besides, we’ll surely et again. I’m a Heroic Spirit—call , and I will answer...."
With those final words, she closed her eyes, smiled, and went limp—dissolving into motes of light in Fujimaru’s arms.
"You were lucky that Rider shoved you out of the way. If you’d taken that attack directly, not even Avalon could’ve saved you."
A hand pressed against his back. Looking past Fujimaru to the ruptured earth, Artoria’s erald eyes showed a flash of lingering fear.
Had she not regained Avalon, the Everdistant Utopia, and its mobile fortress-level defense, she likely would’ve been cut apart.
In the distance, though narrow, the dark slash from the Subspace Ribbon had even split the ocean—leaving a visible black scar that refused to close, like a sea-splitting miracle of Moses.
Looking closer, everything bisected by the Band was locked in eerie stillness.
No blood flowed. No ground shifted. Like a fra paused in ti—death, frozen mid-expression.
Artoria had felt it when her sword t the black slash: without Avalon, she would be dead. It was only the scabbard’s absolute defense that saved her from Selene’s blow. The force still sent her flying regardless.
"Lord Fujimaru, I understand—Ushiwakamaru was important to you. But please, stay calm."
Buzz-buzz...
As Avalon’s rightful owner, Artoria channeled its healing with terrifying speed. Its passive defense alone made her like a walking fortress.
In just a few breaths, Fujimaru’s severed leg had fully regenerated. Apart from looking a bit paler, it was as healthy—no, healthier—than before.
Barefoot on the warm, hardened wasteland, Fujimaru clenched his Command Seal-etched hand and replied in a low, firm voice:
"Yeah... thank you. I know what I have to do now...."
Just as Fujimaru Ritsuka raised his head, ready to face the final battle of this Singularity—
Clap, clap, clap—!
Applause echoed in the air, casting a strange dissonance over the eerie silence of the cavernous void.
"Still alive, Fujimaru Ritsuka? Even after being struck by Her Majesty Selene’s forcibly invoked divine might... How laughable. A talentless nobody—"
"What can I say? Living on, more wretched and disgusting than a cockroach. Truly repulsive resilience."
Riiiiip—!
The air tore open. A kaleidoscopic rift in space parted to reveal a man clad in a retro green suit and a high hat. He stepped out with a mocking grin, staring at Fujimaru’s battered form.
"Lev Lainur Flauros!"
Mash instantly raised her shield, positioning herself protectively in front of Fujimaru.
Clap clap clap clap—!
Lev chuckled at the sight but continued applauding with growing intensity.
"Oh my, I didn’t expect this from you. I admit—I underestimated you. Even tiny, insignificant ants, when ignored, can still bite. But..."
His smile twisted into sothing darker.
"This is as far as you go!"
"Fool. This is your end!"
...
Boom boom boom, rip—!
Scarred and battered, Scáthach erged clad in torn violet sh, her body bloodstained yet still fiercely radiant. Her pale skin was marred by glowing corrosive blotches, but her voluptuous form, spinning her crimson spear, remained awe-inspiring.
Even this broken terrain—hostile to any normal human—was nothing to her. She twirled her weapon, the lance’s deadly arcs shredding yet another monster into a shower of blood-red teors.
Boom! Boom—!
Massive tentacles the size of mountains crumbled and crashed to the ground, severed and useless.
"Huff... Huff...."
Chest heaving, Scáthach glanced at the fading remains of her prey. Then she drew a blazing arc in the air with her crimson spear, forming a gateway-like ring of energy.
"Heed —wisdom that sees the abyss, ancient Runes! Kingdom I maintain in my na—descend! Open—"
"A re wisp of a split soul. Consider this my greeting to the true Scáthach."
Light vanished in an instant. Scáthach’s red eyes widened as a massive high-energy sphere surged toward her, blowing her violet hair wildly.
What?!
Selene had no intention of letting her finish. With no hesitation, she interrupted the Noble Phantasm, drew back her arm, and hurled what resembled a fissioning sun.
"Detonate."
The blazing sphere struck Scáthach and crushed her into the forming rift of the demonic realm. Selene then flicked her fingers—
Teleportation.
Whoosh!
Snap!
BOOOOOMMMMMMMMM—!!
An enormous white-hot blast erupted on the ocean surface within a hundred-kiloter radius. A titanic shockwave rippled outward in all directions, and a colossal mushroom-shaped sea explosion surged skyward.
From afar, it looked like a crystal-clear flower blooming atop a raging sea—a vision of terrible beauty.
Yet within that beauty lurked a horror so chilling it felt like the gates of hell had opened. The marine ecosystem for dozens of kiloters was instantly annihilated. Countless lives perished.
Then—
Cough cough... splurt!
Selene descended slowly from the sky. Her thousand-ter-long serpent tail slamd into the imaginary waves beneath the cracked earth. The ruins of Fuyuki—now shaped like a vast canyon—shattered even further, the collapse rippling outward in all directions.
"Haa... much better."
Bathed in the restorative energies of the Imaginary Sea, Selene finally felt so relief.
That last sequence—instant movent, silence, restraint, ’Rasengan’, teleportation, detonation—was certainly flashy. But it had taken a toll. She really did need a break.
Fortunately, the Beast-class Spirit Origin from Tiamat was on par with a Grand-class. Otherwise, using techniques like that would have shattered even a god-class Servant’s Divine Core.
The uniqueness of gods: when they descend as Servants, their Spirit Origins differ from ordinary Heroic Spirits. Their essence, their core, is sothing higher—what one might call a Divine Core.
In Servant terminology, Divinity ans the bloodline of gods (not quite a god, but deeply connected—like a demigod). But a Divine Core? That is a god.
"This feeling of being unable to unleash my full power... how vexing."
Estimating the damage to her Spirit Origin, Selene calculated how much longer she could maintain her existence in the human world.
"As long as I don’t keep using Authority beyond my limit, and draw support from the Imaginary Sea (Imaginary Number Space), I can last about two more days. Hmph, more than enough."
As Selene pondered how best to spend her remaining ti in the crimson sea—considering whether to pull out her trump card for one final strike—the sky above suddenly split open.
Starlight tore through the atmosphere, forming a brilliant golden vortex.
A clear, high-spirited voice rang out across the heavens.
"We’re jumping now, Maanna! Open the gate! Hehe, this is the glory of this goddess, you know?! This is all of my power! Smash it—!"
"Kindling of Venus that Shook the Mountains (An Gal Tā Kigal
The goddess’s eyes blazed with energy, a golden tidal wave of mana bursting from her.
Selene didn’t even flinch. She barely resisted yawning. About ti her ally showed up. She’d been holding the aggro long enough—ti for soone else to get their muscles moving.
"Solomon, the stage is yours."
"With pleasure."
Bzzzzzz—!
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