The Berserker's last hope was extinguished.
If he had still possessed the strength to break through the blood-qi encirclent earlier, then after being struck by Sakatsuki's arrows—each capable of "pinning the heavens"—the severely wounded Caligula had completely lost any chance of victory. Now, he could only rely on the savagery of his Mad Enhancent to tear recklessly at the soldiers shielded by blood-qi.
This battle lasted from sunset, when the sun dipped behind the mountains, until dark clouds blotted out the night sky.
The First Legion withdrew, and the Second Legion took its place. The Second Legion withdrew, and the Third Legion stepped forward. The Third Legion withdrew...
Ah, all three legions had completed their training.
'As expected of you, Uncle Caligula! So resilient! Users all give five-star reviews!'
Though so soldiers, overly eager for rit, failed to retreat in ti and strayed beyond the protection of the blood-qi—only to be seized by the Berserker and wrung into "soldier paste"—the majority, after enduring such high-intensity combat, no longer feared this monster in human skin. They could even adjust their formations without Sakatsuki's prompting, better positioning themselves for defense and counterattacks.
And this was exactly what Sakatsuki wanted to see.
"Put away the quiver. There's no need for to intervene further."
The white-haired youth stowed away the Great Qin war bow he had crafted himself and turned his gaze to the battlefield.
After such prolonged rotations and combat, the already grievously wounded Caligula appeared even more battered. His movents had noticeably slowed.
A Servant—a Berserker, no less—was showing signs of exhaustion?
"Hmph..." Sakatsuki snorted softly through his nose before issuing his next command.
"The Third Legion will withdraw in an orderly fashion. It's ti for the prisoners pardoned by Her Majesty to prove their loyalty."
Military orders were not to be disobeyed. The frontline soldiers exchanged glances, their faces etched with reluctance, but they withdrew all the sa, allowing the prisoners to step forward and claim the imminent victory.
"Sir, is there a reason for this?" Though he had only followed Sakatsuki for a short ti, Rosario understood the commander's temperant. That he hadn't executed all the prisoners already was an act of extraordinary leniency—why would he willingly hand them such an achievent?
But given Nero's relationship with the commander, Rosario couldn't help but speculate.
'Could this be... the power of love?'
"You're overthinking it, Deputy."
For soldiers brimming with unspent aggression, Sakatsuki had only an eyeroll to offer. "This is my army. Nero's reach doesn't extend here."
Strangely, even though Suigetsu Sakatsuki to the emperor by na, Rosario remained unfazed, listening respectfully to his commander's words.
"You're facing this kind of enemy for the first ti, but I've seen plenty." The white-haired youth observed Caligula, whose movents seed less like slowing down and more like gathering strength. "Let them go. To truly kill such an enemy, sufficient sacrifices must be offered."
Rosario froze, then abruptly realized sothing, his pupils contracting sharply.
***
The sky darkened. Soldiers who had withdrawn from the battlefield raised torches high, dispelling the shadows cast by the clouds and transforming the area around the Berserker into an arena.
The prisoners considered themselves fortunate.
Amid the chaos of war, they had survived the bitter winter and welcod a spring filled with birdsong and blossoms.
They had endured only a minor punishnt that afternoon before the beautiful, magnificent Emperor Nero Claudius pardoned their cris. And now, the white-haired commander who had crushed them was even willing to hand them the greatest reward—anyone could see the Berserker was on his last legs. At any mont, he might expose a fatal opening, allowing the soldiers to swarm and finish him off.
And at this very mont, Sakatsuki ordered the Third Legion to withdraw and sent them forward.
What was this if not a free gift of glory?
Filled with such thoughts, the prisoners eagerly took the Third Legion's place, blocking the Berserker's attacks. Unbeknownst to them, the blood-qi Sakatsuki had imbued in their shields grew thinner, and Caligula's assaults beca increasingly sluggish—as if the two shared an unspoken understanding.
Then, in an instant, everything erupted.
Caligula suddenly ceased attacking. He threw his head back and let out a heart-rending howl.
The clouds parted. A full moon hung in the sky, casting gentle silver light upon the earth.
But when those rays fell upon the forr Roman emperor clad in resplendent attire, the radiance burned like fire.
"Retreat."
A casual, almost abrupt command.
The prisoners—who had neither sworn loyalty nor been influenced by Sakatsuki's Spirit Origin—failed to react in ti. Behind them, the legions, along with the protective blood-qi, receded like a tide.
Finally, soone sensed the danger—but it was too late.
"Aaaaaaaaaaah—!"
Like a golden werewolf howling at the moon, Caligula arched his clawed hands. His crimson eyes no longer held pupils, and the silver-white flas engulfing him exploded outward, rippling like shockwaves amid flying debris.
"Moon, O moon... Curse !"
Amid the distorted, barely intelligible words, the soldiers surrounding Caligula were engulfed in silver-white flas. The agony forced them to drop their weapons, kneeling and clutching their heads as they scread.
Razor-sharp silver light tore through the air, carrying layers of lunar ripples that surged outward. Wherever it passed, all living beings could only kneel and shriek, gradually transforming into skeletal offerings.
This was Caligula's Anti-Army Noble Phantasm as a Servant—
**"Flucticulus Diana—Devour My Soul, Moonlight!"**
The prisoners at the rear tried to flee, but once caught by the silver light, they plumted into the sa madness as Caligula, ensnared by the curse of the goddess Diana. In the end, their fragile lives could not escape returning to the eternal moon.
The prisoners Nero had pardoned were thus eradicated—by Sakatsuki's borrowed blade.
A cold wind howled. Scarlet congealed into blood. The white-haired youth stood tall, his cloak billowing as if alive.
Across a distance of a thousand ters, the two crimson-clad figures—one mad, one ruthless—locked eyes. Having jointly slaughtered the soldiers, they regarded each other in silence.
Indifferent to the prisoners' suffering, Sakatsuki swung his war banner decisively.
"First, Second, and Third Legion shield-bearers—advance! Javelin troops, replenish your weapons and move up! Archers, prepare! Begin the encirclent!"
At the governor's command, the legions—including the surrendered soldiers within their ranks—snapped out of their shock and exhilaration. With unprecedented loyalty and cohesion, they charged forward, surrounding Caligula once more.
This ti, the Berserker, having expended his Noble Phantasm, had no strength left to resist. Under the hail of blood-qi-infused arrows and javelins, his injuries worsened until he could only kneel on one knee, his shoulders pierced by projectiles, blood streaming from wounds left by hurled stones.
"Now I look like the villain."
Though he muttered this, Sakatsuki never let his guard down. His gaze remained fixed on Caligula, not daring to relax for even a mont.
Command Spells.
Just like the shackles on Nero's hand, Caligula, as a summoned Servant, also bore this double-edged constraint.
In rebellion, it was a blade turned against oneself. But in peril, it beca a final lifeline.
At so point, the white-haired youth had already nocked another arrow, its tip condensed with unprecedented blood-qi sharpness.
The mont the Command Spell activated, this arrow would pierce Caligula's spiritual core.
All that remained was to wait...
"Stop, Governor."
A hand grasped his shoulder from behind. Sakatsuki's focus shattered. He instinctively turned—then realized his mistake and whipped his head back.
But within the encirclent, Caligula was nowhere to be seen.
The white-haired youth pressed his lips together, closed his eyes helplessly, and sighed.
"Your Majesty..."
A warm, fragrant presence pressed against him.
The golden-haired, erald-eyed girl stood behind him, her arms encircling Sakatsuki. Her hands—gentle yet unyielding—gripped his arms as her eyes shimred with complexity and helplessness.
Having escaped the tent, she had recognized their enemy at a glance.
"Please spare my uncle... At least, not before my eyes."
***
Hey readers!
Want to read ahead? 📖 Join my Patreon for early access to 30 advance Chapters! Your support helps write more and bring the story to you faster.
🔹/aarvan🔹
Reviews
All reviews (0)