"How's the situation?"
In an abandoned factory far from the city center, Bazdilot held a lit expensive cigar between his fingers. Amid the swirling smoke, he stared ahead with an indifferent expression. There stood a towering black figure reminiscent of a demon god. He wore the pelt of the Nean Lion, and from his crimson eyes emanated a chilling aura that cut to the bone.
…It was the Avenger Alcides, completely corrupted by the black mud.
"The hospital has been reduced to complete ruins. I was at the scene, but there was no life response from the target, Matou Yuu." Alcides' emotionless, hoarse voice echoed through the empty factory. "However…"
"But what?"
"What does that object floating in the sky intend to do?" Alcides asked indifferently.
"The true form of the Mother Goddess of Creation, Tiamat…?"
Bazdilot took a deep drag from his cigar and slowly exhaled a smoke ring. "If that thing truly unleashes divine punishnt, this Holy Grail War will collapse in an instant. But… Archer, I don't like being a deserter."
"If I had been afraid to fight, I could never have risen to my current position in the Scladio family."
"Having chosen the path of the Holy Grail War, there's no turning back. Whether it's Matou Yuu or his Servant Tiamat, they are unavoidable obstacles in our plans… The sooner we remove them from the chessboard, the smoother our path forward will be."
He paused. "It's a pity… we couldn't steal Tiamat's Noble Phantasm."
Alcides lightly shook his head. "The power she holds cannot be called a Noble Phantasms in human terms. The sea that symbolizes the birth of life on Earth cannot be swallowed by black mud within the domain of Human Order."
"In other words, Matou Yuu and his Servant are no longer of any value to us?"
A cold smile appeared on Bazdilot's lips. "Then tonight's operation can be considered complete… As for the big commotion in the sky, let that self-righteous Faldeus enjoy his own headache for a while."
Alcides cast a cold glance at him. "That high-ranking Arican official you ntioned cannot possibly shake the will of the Mother Goddess of Creation."
Bazdilot chuckled and casually flicked the ash from his cigar. "Faldeus has the entire U.S. military as his backing. Even if he's powerless, those arrogant politicians will use every ans to play their trump card… This is not sothing we need to worry about."
"Compared to this, you—"
He was about to continue when Alcides suddenly raised the massive black bow in his hand and drew the string to its limit without hesitation.
Oppressive magical energy instantly transford into a crimson arrow, converging desperately between the bowstring.
Whoosh!
In Bazdilot's suddenly constricted pupils, the crimson arrow tore through the air without hesitation, grazing past his eardrums.
Almost simultaneously with the arrow's release, an incredibly beautiful ancient bell sound—like sothing resonating from the depths of the underworld—echoed without warning in the deathly silent factory.
—Clang!
The mont the bell rang, Bazdilot felt a chill run down his spine and spun around in alarm.
The face of this mafia veteran, who had survived countless bloody battles without ever wavering, underwent a dramatic change never seen before.
No one knew when it had begun, but behind him—as if appearing from nowhere—stood a sturdy figure clad in heavy black armor.
Beneath the skull mask, ethereal blue soul flas burned.
The beheading sword that had severed countless fates rested quietly right beside his neck.
BOOM—!!!
At the decisive instant, Alcides' crimson arrow struck the blade of the beheading sword with trendous force.
A terrifying magical storm erupted between them, kicking up clouds of dust.
When the smoke cleared slightly, the figure in the skull mask stood completely motionless, like an unshakeable mountain.
Using the recoil from the clash of the two heroic souls, Bazdilot quickly retreated.
The mont he saw the figure before him—like the very incarnation of death—cold sweat poured down his forehead.
Damn… An enemy Servant? But when did they get in…? Why didn't the highest-level detection barrier surrounding us trigger?!
Alcides stared at the assassin in the skull mask and spoke slowly. "Not only can I not sense your aura… I can't even perceive your magical energy…"
"Are you… the very concept of death itself?"
The Old Man of the Mountain slowly lowered his greatsword and silently gazed at the black-mud-reeking monster before him with eyes burning with ethereal blue soul flas.
"You discarded the glory granted by the gods and cast aside your true na. Not only did you throw yourself into the mud pit—you willingly beca the hunting dog of despicable n…"
Accompanied by the deep toll of the evening bell, the voice that seed to rise from the valley depths carried a shuddering solemnity and compassion.
"Guided by the evening bell, this old man sought to behead that sinner. Yet you mad dogs, with your rotting bodies, dare to obstruct the valley's judgnt. What a pathetic farce."
Alcides gave no reply.
Instead, the fallen hero facing the elusive assassin chose the simplest and most brutal response.
The instant the old man finished speaking, the black afterimage vanished from its spot.
The ground at his feet collapsed with a deafening roar as Alcides' imposing figure leaped into the air.
He drew back the massive black bow, a cruel light flashing in his murky eyes.
Surrounding magical energy surged toward the string like a vortex, as if space itself were distorting under the terrifying energy.
"Nine Lives: Shooting the Hundred Heads!!"
It was the technique the great hero Heracles of Greek myth had devised to slay the immortal nine-headed Hydra.
It was not a single arrow, but an omnipotent strike that unleashed countless attacks capable of destroying a city's walls simultaneously.
Yet the skeletal swordsman standing motionless showed no reaction even to this legendary Noble Phantasm.
"In the deepest valley, there exists neither light nor darkness."
Amid the destructive storm, a deeply resounding incantation echoed clearly.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Ancient, sorrowful evening bells rang repeatedly in the sky above the abandoned factory.
The Old Man of the Mountain slowly raised his greatsword inscribed with his faith and swung it casually toward the rain of arrows falling from above.
The concept of death spread across the blade. Countless arrows easily withered and fell powerlessly to the ground.
At the edge of the battlefield, almost simultaneously with the bell's toll, Bazdilot had already retreated step by step into the shadows.
He turned, tossed the still-burning cigar to the ground, and crushed it under his leather shoe.
There was no point staying here any longer.
Alcides, clad in the Nean Lion's pelt, could withstand physical instant-death attacks, but he keenly sensed that the old man in the skull mask had not used his true killing technique against him.
He had rely been observing.
The assassin's true purpose was unclear, but one thing was now obvious.
This secret base served as the core magical-energy supply station. It had to be relocated imdiately.
Just as Bazdilot turned and headed for the factory exit, his feet stopped dead.
His gloomy gaze locked onto the factory gate.
Before he realized it, a black-haired young man stood quietly there.
A cold night breeze blew, lightly tousling the young man's soft, ssy hair. In his dark eyes, the mafia mber's figure was reflected.
"Who are you…?"
"Nice to et you, Mr. Bazdilot. I am Matou Yuu, disciple of Lord El-lloi II from the Clock Tower."
The young man spoke calmly. "Since you, as collaborators of the U.S. governnt, should have already thoroughly investigated my background, I'll skip further self-introduction."
As he stared at the young man, a faint change crossed Bazdilot's indifferent expression.
A magus's defensive systems were designed primarily to counter magical attacks. Against purely physical explosions or extre heat from modern technology, even a first-class magus's physical defenses were practically useless.
That was why, when planning the underground explosion targeting the hospital, he had believed the explosives could instantly vaporize the fragile Master along with the building.
Yet this young man… was still standing here, completely unhard?!
"You—"
"You want to ask why I didn't die, right?"
Matou Yuu interrupted with a smile.
"Without prior intelligence, and after being ambushed by you, you're still wondering how I found your hideout?"
The mont he finished speaking, a dense pale-white mist began swirling violently at Matou Yuu's feet.
The mist twisted and intertwined in the void before transforming into the phantom of a knight riding a pale warhorse.
It was the Pale Rider—the calamity symbolizing the end of the world and the apocalypse.
"The answer is… plague."
Matou Yuu gazed at him quietly. "This city—from top to bottom, every street, every breath of air—is covered by the Pale Rider's plague network. Of course… the abandoned factory you were hiding in is no exception."
After a mont of shock, Bazdilot's gloomy expression vanished, replaced by a cold smile.
"I see… So you tracked us here using another Servant's information network?"
He looked up at the young man as though staring at a dead man. "Having barely survived, instead of hiding in the sewers, you ca all the way here… to take revenge on ?"
Matou Yuu did not react to the provocation. Instead, he raised his head and surveyed the vast abandoned factory, glancing toward Alcides in the distance, who was fighting the Old Man of the Mountain while radiating imnse magical energy.
Then he suddenly laughed.
"Co to think of it, the Masters in this Holy Grail War are really showing off their unique abilities… Every single one of them seems to possess an inexhaustible source of magical energy."
Matou Yuu returned his gaze to Bazdilot and continued. "According to the Pale Rider, countless humans are imprisoned beneath your factory like batteries being charged. By extracting their life force and converting it into magical energy, you satisfied the condition of infinite magical energy supply for your monstrous Servant, didn't you?"
The mont Bazdilot heard those words, his face twitched slightly.
The hostage battery in the underground factory was Bazdilot's most important trump card in this Holy Grail War.
As long as that magical furnace kept running, he had absolute confidence that Alcides could crush everything and escape unscathed with him.
"What did you do?" Bazdilot asked expressionlessly.
"Nothing much," Matou Yuu replied with a bright smile. "You gave such a wonderful gift, so I thought it only proper to return the favor directly."
"My magecraft traits combine Imaginary Numbers and Water. What Lord El-lloi II taught at the Clock Tower is that magecraft shouldn't be bound by rigid rituals. By combining magecraft with the physical laws of modern industry, one can achieve imnse effects at very low cost."
"For example, by utilizing the fluid perability of Water-attribute magecraft, high-concentration magical energy can be compressed to the extre—like hydraulic pressure—through the gaps in the factory's underground pipes… These water bombs compressed to the critical point can be hidden in the gaps between the real world and imaginary space."
"And if I remove that imaginary pocket, the extrely compressed magical energy will instantly undergo phase transition and expansion. What it triggers is an explosion far more terrifying than a high-pressure steam explosion."
Bazdilot finally seed to understand. His face turned ice-cold as he stared at Matou Yuu.
"You've been to that basent?"
Seeing the young man's ambiguous expression, Bazdilot unhesitatingly drew a pistol from his pocket. "It's not good manners to intrude on soone else's secret base. Matou Yuu, it seems your ntor didn't teach you proper morals."
"I know what you're worried about… But don't worry. I'm not as despicable as you, and I won't harm innocent people."
Facing the dark gleam of the gun barrel, Matou Yuu slowly raised his right hand.
"Tiamat has already moved the hostages. As for that magical facility you're so proud of—"
Bang!
Before he could finish, Bazdilot pulled the trigger without hesitation.
The bullet flew toward him.
At that instant, behind Matou Yuu, the door to the imaginary treasury quietly opened.
The golden Noble Phantasms of the Gate of Babylon appeared, contaminated by black mud and emitting an ominous dark light.
Matou Yuu watched the dark light effortlessly swallow the bullet, then snapped his fingers decisively.
"Shouldn't I return the favor?"
Snap!
The sharp sound signaled the end of everything.
The explosives planted in various imaginary fissures deep beneath the factory instantly emitted a piercing beep beep beep alarm.
The next mont—
Rumble rumble rumble—!!!
A deafening roar erupted from the underground laboratory of the abandoned factory!
Alcides seed to realize sothing. Ignoring everything else, he withdrew from his fight with the Old Man of the Mountain. His sturdy body turned like a wild beast and lunged toward Bazdilot, trying to rescue his Master.
Whoosh!
But at that mont the void violently distorted. The space behind Matou Yuu appeared to be forcibly torn apart by an indescribable force.
The special power known as the Imaginary Treasury suddenly manifested in the air.
Whoosh whoosh!!
Dozens of magical artifacts contaminated by black mud shot out from the imaginary treasury, forcefully blocking the path between Alcides and Bazdilot.
Faced with the Gate of Babylon enhanced by the Sea of Life, even Alcides' charge was delayed by 0.5 seconds.
In a ticulously planned series of explosions, 0.5 seconds was more than enough to decide life or death.
Bazdilot stared at his retainer, temporarily held back by the imaginary treasury, then looked down at the ground at his feet. It now emitted a dazzling red light.
An eerie smile suddenly appeared on his gloomy face.
"Well done… Matou Yuu. You win."
Despite lacking Command Spells, he suddenly raised his head and issued his final, most brutal order as a Master to Alcides several ters away.
"Don't worry about , Alcides! Get out of here, and then—"
"Kill every human in this city! Gods and magus alike!"
Rumble rumble rumble—!!!
Bazdilot's final roar was instantly swallowed by flas erupting from the ground.
The raging inferno destroyed the eerie magical furnace underground and reduced the entire abandoned factory to ashes in an instant.
…
Almost simultaneously.
Snowfield City Police Departnt, Chief's Office.
Orlando Reeves sat behind a large desk, eyes closed, resting.
He couldn't help recalling his recent confrontation with Faldeus.
As the nominal highest law-enforcent officer in Snowfield City, he had poured everything into forming the Clan Calatin, trying to prove to high-ranking magus and Heroic Spirits that even without magical bloodlines, modern humans ard with law enforcent and technology possessed sufficient power to end this Holy Grail War.
Yet the current situation was completely out of control.
Faldeus didn't know that at all.
"What an arrogant fool…"
Orlando rubbed his temples tiredly.
Knock knock.
Just then ca a knock at the office door.
Orlando opened his eyes. His calm, steady voice said, "Co in."
A subordinate in police uniform entered.
"Chief…"
The man stood to the side, glanced at the sheriff, seed about to speak, then hesitated.
"Let's get straight to the point," Orlando said without looking up, his voice calr than usual. "It can't get any worse than this."
"Five minutes ago, a violent explosion occurred in an abandoned factory ten kiloters away in the suburbs. The entire underground structure was completely destroyed."
"Additionally…"
The subordinate took a deep breath and reported in a low voice. "We have confird reliable information… Bazdilot Cordelion, top executive of the Scladio family…"
"He has been confird dead in the explosion."
Orlando's hand, flipping through docunts, froze in mid-air.
That mad dog who commanded a monstrous Servant feared even by the mafia had died so easily?!
Before Orlando could fully process the news, the subordinate swallowed hard, his expression growing stranger.
"Moreover…"
"Moreover?"
Orlando looked up expressionlessly.
In the re two nights since the Holy Grail War began, he felt he had faced more crises than in the previous ten years combined.
Before he could digest the news, he was told there was still more.
"Please continue."
After a short silence, Orlando spoke expressionlessly.
"Two individuals have arrived outside the police station. They insist on seeing you."
"Where are they from?" Orlando asked calmly.
The subordinate carefully observed the sheriff's expression and replied in a low voice, "They say they're from… Chaldea."
…
…
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