When Souta opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of a scorching sun beating down upon an endless plain of golden sand.
Hot winds lashed against his face, and the relentless sunlight seared his skin.
Before him, an army of tens of thousands of Heroic Spirits moved in a tightly packed phalanx, advancing with an unstoppable montum in a single direction.
The sheer scale of it was awe-inspiring.
This was Rider's ntal world.
A Reality Marble shaped by the mories of his army—the land they once galloped across together, forever engraved into their hearts.
"Illya! Are you guys okay?"
Spotting Illya and her group positioned at the rear of the army, Souta quickly made his way over.
At the sound of his voice, Kiritsugu Emiya, Irisviel, and Artoria all turned around.
When they saw him, their eyes widened in disbelief.
Irisviel even parted her lips in sheer shock.
How did he even get in here?
Was there anything this man couldn't do?
"You all look surprised," Souta comnted, feeling slightly uncomfortable under their incredulous gazes.
He felt like so kind of exotic specin on display.
"This is Rider's Reality Marble. How did you get inside?" Artoria asked bluntly.
"Just think of it as a teleportation ability. I won't go into details," Souta replied casually.
If he had to explain, he'd have to start from the very beginning and go over the entire system's chanics.
It wasn't like he had to keep the system a secret—he was just too lazy to bother explaining.
"By the way, how did you all end up running into Archer?" Souta asked.
"It was a coincidence," Irisviel explained. "Archer and Rider were already fighting when we stumbled upon them. Since Archer is one of our enemies, we decided to intervene. But then Rider activated his Reality Marble to keep us out—he wanted to fight Archer one-on-one. Though, there's one thing I don't quite understand..."
"What's that?" Souta prompted.
"If Rider wanted a duel, why did he drag us into his Reality Marble too?"
"Hmm... he probably just wanted you all to witness the grandeur of a battle between kings."
Souta thought for a mont before offering his take:
"Having an audience is important. Without spectators, what's the point of showing off?"
"..." Irisviel was montarily speechless. "It's that simple?"
"It's that simple." Souta nodded firmly.
Just as he finished speaking, a massive surge of magical energy crashed toward them!
From the skies, more than a dozen golden flashes rained down, exuding an overwhelming pressure—each one a Noble Phantasm radiating blinding magical brilliance.
"—!!"
Artoria's eyes widened. She instinctively raised her holy sword, intercepting an incoming projectile.
Beside her, Heracles swung his colossal axe like a storm, smashing aside spears and swords with raw, monstrous power.
Only Souta remained motionless, watching as the Noble Phantasms slamd into him.
A mont later—BOOM!
A colossal explosion rocked the desert. The impact sent golden sand flying in all directions.
Compressed air burst outward in rippling shockwaves, spreading like waves across a lake's surface.
At the center of the blast, heat and blinding light engulfed everything.
It was less an attack and more a barrage of rocket missiles.
Yet, as the smoke and dust cleared, Souta stood there completely unscathed.
His expression remained as calm as ever, unchanged in the slightest.
At one point, this might have seed impossible to him.
But ever since he started collecting faith and converting it into divine power, sothing in him had shifted.
It was as if... nothing in the world could impress him anymore.
He wasn't sure if he was simply getting arrogant—or if this was just the natural mindset of a god.
"Are you alright, Souta?"
Artoria's voice carried genuine concern.
She had just watched him take a barrage of Noble Phantasms to the face.
Even with all the battles she had experienced, she still couldn't help but worry.
"I'm fine. This level of attack can't even break through my defenses."
Souta reassured her.
His divine shield could absorb all forms of damage—physical, magical, instant death, causality-based, even temporal and spatial distortions.
Unless soone had a thod specifically designed to counter gods... or an attack on a colossal scale, how could a re mortal possibly harm a deity?
This wasn't a D&D universe, where divine beings had strict limitations.
Here, the only way to hurt him was through raw overwhelming firepower.
At full strength, Souta could unleash an attack powerful enough to wipe Fuyuki City off the map.
For soone to break his shield, their attack would have to be at least ten tis stronger than that.
He had even calculated it—an attack capable of obliterating three entire Tokyos would be the bare minimum required to damage him.
And Gilgash's Gate of Babylon?
Not even close.
"I counted earlier. Nine Noble Phantasms were aid directly at . Seems like Gilgash's main target is , and you guys just got caught in the crossfire."
Souta took a few steps forward, gazing into the distance.
With his divine-enhanced vision, he peered through the ranks of thousands—locking onto Gilgash, whose expression twisted in clear disdain.
Which... made sense.
Gilgash always looked at people as if they owed him money and refused to pay up.
But what really caught Souta off guard was why this guy was targeting him specifically.
...Oh well.
Not that it mattered.
He was here to fight anyway.
"King of Heroes! Do you dare to sully this sacred duel?!"
From the frontlines, Iskandar bellowed in fury.
Attacking unrelated spectators mid-battle? That was outright disrespectful.
"Hmph. Do not misunderstand, Conqueror King. I do not look down on you."
Draped in his golden armor, Gilgash chuckled.
"I simply saw the most repulsive mongrel before my eyes... and could not resist striking him down."
Then, flashing a sharp grin, he added:
"But very well—I acknowledge your path as a ruler. Tonight, I shall return your sincerity with my greatest honor!"
He raised his right hand.
A bizarre-looking sword glead in his grasp.
An EX-rank, Anti-World Noble Phantasm—Enuma Elish.
"Awaken, Ea! Your grand stage has been set—"
But just as Gilgash was about to activate it, his vision shifted.
Souta's figure suddenly appeared right in front of him, hovering in midair as if standing on the sky itself.
The glow of divine energy pulsed at his fingertips, flickering like a miniature sun.
The next instant—
Gilgash felt an intense pulling force around him.
The space surrounding him distorted.
It was as if the entire world was spinning around him.
"Mongrel—!! You dare disrupt my mont of grandeur?!"
Gilgash roared in fury.
But the spinning sensation did not stop.
By the ti he regained his bearings—
He was no longer standing at the battlefield's edge.
Instead, he now stood in the center of Rider's vast army.
Surrounded by tens of thousands of Heroic Spirits.
Ea was still raised in his hand... but before he could even swing it down, spears, war hamrs, and longswords all ca crashing toward him from every direction.
His face twisted in fury.
In that mont—
Gilgash, King of Heroes, was forced into the most humiliating of evasive maneuvers—
He almost had to roll on the ground like a damn peasant.
He lacked the skill of a closed-combat warrior.
That damn mongrel in the sky... had just used so insane ability to teleport him directly into the heart of Rider's army.
Now, he was trapped—with thousands of bloodthirsty spirits closing in.
"Damn it...!"
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