Gilgash could normally retrieve any weapon he fired from his vault.
That was because those weapons still existed within the sa world.
Even Reality Marbles and bounded fields were, at their core, extensions of this reality.
Rowan’s pocket world was not.
It was a separate dinsion entirely.
Incomplete, yes.
But fundantally disconnected.
Without Rowan’s consent, no external force could reach inside.
Which ant every Noble Phantasm Gilgash had fired was gone for good.
Not destroyed.
Taken.
Each shot had permanently thinned the contents of his treasury.
By the ti he realized it, every weapon-shaped treasure in the Gate of Babylon had been emptied.
Gilgash’s composure shattered.
"You dare steal my treasures?!"
Rage exploded from him.
Golden light erupted as his mana surged outward like a blazing sun.
"Enkidu."
Two radiant chains tore through space and wrapped around Rowan from behind, binding him tightly.
The Chains of Heaven.
A divine restraint forged by the gods themselves.
Especially lethal against beings with divinity.
At the sa ti, a strange hilt manifested in Gilgash’s right hand.
It extended, unfolding into a spiraling, otherworldly sword.
Ea.
The Sword of Rupture.
"Awaken," Gilgash roared.
"Genesis."
The blade howled.
Red energy spiraled violently as space itself began to distort.
A downward swing followed.
A crimson arc descended.
The pressure alone forced Rin and the others to stagger backward.
Even witnessing it felt suffocating.
Artoria stepped forward, Avalon already forming in her grasp.
"Do you need help?" she called.
Rowan’s voice echoed calmly in her mind.
"Stay back."
He watched the incoming blade with mild interest.
"Impressive concept."
"Poor output."
He spoke a single word.
"Alohomora."
The divine chains unraveled.
Rowan’s right arm transford, black scales forming over a massive draconic claw.
Golden sigils flared across its surface.
He caught the crimson blade.
Stopped it.
Barehanded.
Then he clenched.
Ea’s projected slash shattered into fragnts of fading light.
Gilgash’s pupils shrank.
Rowan stepped in.
"Waste of a good weapon."
He tore Ea from Gilgash’s grip and tossed it into the spatial rift.
Gone.
Rowan sighed.
"Almost forgot. I’m a mage. I should act like one."
A magic circle ford.
"God-Slaying Lightning."
The sky darkened.
Black lightning descended.
Once.
Twice.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
The bolts smashed Gilgash into the ground, driving him deeper with each strike.
When the storm ended, a massive crater remained.
At its center lay Gilgash.
Armor shattered.
Body charred.
Hair burned away.
Barely breathing.
Rowan dropped beside him and released a small healing spell.
Just enough.
"Behave," Rowan said.
"You’ll suffer less that way."
Gilgash coughed and laughed weakly.
"You are strong... but I will never submit."
Rowan rubbed his chin.
"Hm. That’s inconvenient."
He leaned closer.
"If you don’t cooperate, you’ll never get your treasures back."
Silence.
Gilgash’s breathing hitched.
Rowan smiled.
"Think of it as a partnership."
"You help study one Noble Phantasm."
"I return one."
"When we’re done..."
"You get them all back."
Gilgash stared at him.
For the first ti in his existence...
The King of Heroes hesitated.
...
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