Diamond-shaped crystals hang high in the sky. When the magecraft born from the Ainsworth’s thousand-year sorrow manifests, the swirling, erupting radiance stings the eyes of all who behold it.
The Beast roars, yet the magus’s gaze remains indifferent. Without waiting for her to recover from her own attack, he snaps his fingers once more.
[Projection, deploy.]
The proud King of Mages issues his command, and the mana of heaven and earth converges in an instant, coalescing into the forms of countless savage blades that loom over the imperial palace. The clashing of tal rings out—a sound both icy and filled with killing intent.
"Go."
Even without Lord Wu’an’s possession, Sakatsuki’s every movent still carries the grace of a sword immortal.
But in truth, Sakatsuki is crying inside like a cat.
He’s back. Everything is back!
No more role-playing—now it’s ti to get down to business!
Behind him, the countless blades let out a roar, transforming into a torrent that pierces through the billowing smoke and flas, tearing apart all barriers and obstacles as they rcilessly lunge at the Beast!
An extension of his Reality Marble, a forbidden projection technique that defies the very principles of magecraft—when Sakatsuki finally crosses his arms and clenches his fists, everyone is struck with unparalleled awe and shock.
"That is—!" The monitoring equipnt shrieks as the doctor braces against the table, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Such divine radiance..." Waver’s glasses slip halfway down his nose, but he doesn’t bother to adjust them, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the two colossal objects now materializing before them—
Beneath the shattered sky, two massive swords—fit only for giants to wield—descend in a crossed slash. Their sheer montum seems capable of spanning hundreds of miles, severing heaven and earth itself.
One is the flaming greatsword of dawn’s wings, said to purify and annihilate all matter.
The other is an erald-carved, boneless heavy sword, said to cleave through countless mountains and valleys.
Yes—these are the divine armants that purge the seas and sunder the peaks.
"Co forth—Sul-sagana, the Horizon of Dawn that Purifies the Seas!"
"Ig-Alima, the Green Field Cutting Through the Thousand Mountains!"
As these two divine armants descend, the three thousand worlds are reduced to nothingness.
Sever—sever—sever—
Even the endless mountains are split asunder. Even the concepts of good and evil dissolve before them. These are the divine weapons wielded by Zababa, the sopotamian god of war. These are the twin swords that carved the cosmos during the Age of Gods!
And yet—when the great enchantress raises a hand to cover her lips, effortlessly halting the blades with her bare fingers, Fujimaru and the Servants are left utterly stunned.
"Is this all the strength you have?"
Brushing off the dust with deliberate slowness, the towering, monstrously beautiful woman speaks with disinterest. Whether it was her own attack turned against her, Sakatsuki’s ticulously crafted storm of blades, or the twin divine swords that fell from the heavens—none have left even a trace upon her flawless form.
"If this is all you have to offer, I shall be sorely disappointed, no?"
Countless shattered fragnts of steel rain down from the storm as Draco waves her hand dismissively. The wailing Sul-sagana and Ig-Alima dissolve into motes of mana alongside the collapsing projected blades, vanishing into the air.
Storm and thunder rage as, beneath suffocating pressure, a burning star—like a wheel—rises from the horizon behind Draco, eclipsing the displaced prisms and bathing half the imperial palace in flas and ruin.
Having slaughtered and devoured her way to this point, the Beast’s malevolence now descends in full.
Even a simple impact of fla and mana, when amplified by the authority and depth of a Beast, transforms into a calamity as tangible as reality itself!
With a soundless sneer, the colossal sun plumts, effortlessly shattering the matrix of displacent magecraft as it hurtles toward the fragile palace!
Breaking free from Nero’s embrace, Sakatsuki leaps above the palace, his mystic code and white hair whipping in the gale. His golden pupils blaze as he summons not a projected iron bow, but the mory left behind by Lord Wu’an—a war bow personally crafted by the Mohists of Great Qin!
The iron eagle engraved upon it spreads its wings as the white-haired, golden-eyed Sakatsuki draws the bowstring. Particles from the imaginary number realm surge forth, coalescing into a single dark arrow under the magus’s will. He takes aim—and releases!
The infinite void of the imaginary number realm unfolds like a curtain, baring its boundless emptiness before the destruction. The vast, hollow expanse engulfs the calamity, swallowing it whole without a trace.
Imaginary Arrow: Veil of Night!
"Can... a modern magus truly accomplish such a feat?" On the Chaldea end, the doctor clutches his head in dismay as the database returns no search results.
In Chaldea’s records, there exists no one by the na of "Sakatsuki."
Yet whether it’s displacent magecraft that defies limits, projection magecraft verging on True Magic, or the rarely seen imaginary number magecraft—with skills like these, he shouldn’t be an unknown!
But what troubles the doctor even more is an indescribable sense of foreboding.
This is a secret known only to high-ranking magi—even across countless parallel worlds, where histories and outcos diverge wildly, certain events and figures remain mirrored. Like branches sprouting from a single trunk, though they may never converge, their origin remains the sa.
Especially those at the pinnacle of their fields, or those with imnse weight of destiny—they will inevitably cast reflections in other worlds. No matter how faint, no matter how different their fates, there will always be similarities.
But Sakatsuki—this enigmatic young man alone—yields no results, even when searched for with Sheba’s power!
At this thought, the doctor’s expression darkens.
As that Servant once said: "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth..."
A magus capable of arriving in a Singularity, resonating with Servants, and possessing such profound mastery of magecraft—his destiny must rival Fujimaru’s own.
For such a person to leave no trace in the world, there is only one explanation.
"Pruned phenonon..." The hoarse whisper dissipates in the tense command room.
Yet on the magecraft monitor, the young man continues to fight alongside Fujimaru, striving to defeat Draco.
"This isn’t working! Sakatsuki, do you still have enough mana reserves?"
"Don’t underestimate , Fujimaru! I hold the Holy Grail!"
Like soldiers entrenched in battlefield warfare, mana-forged artillery clashes with projected steel in deafening explosions, forcing Fujimaru and Sakatsuki to shout just to communicate.
"If you answered our summoning, you must have a way to defeat her, right?" Even without Mash’s protection, with his life hanging by a thread, Fujimaru continues to yell over the chaos as stray mana shells explode around him, covering him in dust.
"Otherwise, with your personality, you’d never show up so abruptly!"
"As expected of Chaldea’s Master!" Sakatsuki’s golden eyes gleam as the storm of blades behind him forms a massive hand, montarily holding back the relentless barrage. "But as you can see, even if I had a plan, I wouldn’t have ti to execute it!"
"So you do have a plan! Can I trust you, Sakatsuki?"
Under Fujimaru’s blue-eyed gaze, Sakatsuki pauses briefly before nodding with a silent, confident smile.
"Good! In that case—!" Without hesitation, Fujimaru raises his hand and exercises his second Command Spell.
"By my Command Spell—Saber, I leave it to you!"
A figure steps forward from the group, the holy sword in her hand erupting with an abyssal dark radiance under the Command Spell’s reinforcent.
"Vortigern, Hamr of the Vile King, reverse the rising sun. Swallow the light! Excalibur Morgan!"
The roaring wave of destruction surges from the ground, repelling Draco’s assault. Seizing the opportunity, Sakatsuki spreads his arms, and a sacred golden brilliance gathers in his palms, taking on a vague form.
"Energy spike detected! Servant spiritual foundation exceeding normal paraters!"
The observer’s cry echoes through the comms. The mont the light appears, not only does the palace tremble violently, but even the distant Beast senses the danger, finally abandoning her leisurely stance to advance in earnest.
"Maintain suppressive fire—"
"No, Fujimaru, fall back! My king, protect them!"
At the familiar yet unfamiliar call, Blackened Saber stiffens before imdiately sheathing her sword, scooping up Fujimaru, and retreating at full speed with a burst of Mana Burst. Behind her, Nero follows with a confused "Eh? Eh?!"
Only once they are far enough away does Sakatsuki exhale in relief, raising the light in his hands high as Draco closes in.
"I’ve always wanted to say sothing this cool—"
As the authority of a Grand vessel erupts, the magus’s proclamation resounds through the palace:
"The crown is not my desire!"
"The proof of supremacy lies only in this mont’s witness!"
The Beast howls. The palace crumbles. Amid the scene of universal destruction, Sakatsuki—now restored to his youthful form—cries out:
"Let the gods above bear witness! Let the people of the earth behold!"
"This is a duel of honour!"
***
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