"It's you."
Azrael's eyes narrowed as he recognized the approaching figure. His entire body tensed, his instincts screaming danger even as he maintained an outward calm.
Leon, the brown-haired prince whose presence complicated everything, appeared.
Although Azrael believed Leon had likely pieced together the truth about the Royal City incident, he couldn't afford to assu anything. If Leon was unaware of the actual events, this conversation could spiral into violence in an instant.
Fortunately, the prince's deanor suggested otherwise.
Leon's voice carried the weight of soone who understood far more than he let on. "Sir Azrael, please withdraw your cards first."
After a mont's deliberation, Azrael decided that compliance was the wiser course. He signaled for Artoria to return to his side. The blonde knight materialized beside him, still gripping Excalibur firmly in her armored hands.
His decision wasn't born purely from trust. Leon might possess valuable intelligence about the red-haired man's abilities, information that could prove decisive. More importantly, Azrael remained prepared for betrayal. The Noble Royal City venue card rested ready in his ntal arsenal, a trump card Leon couldn't possibly anticipate.
Monts later, Artoria appeared, her presence commanding despite her smaller stature compared to the towering trees around them.
Leon's gaze locked onto the girl in the blue, armored dress, and his analytical mind raced through possibilities. "Was this card crafted from Adam's materials?"
The question wasn't unexpected. Leon knew perfectly well that Azrael had claid both Adams's corpse and his twin swords from the Royal City battlefield. Seeing an unfamiliar Erald-level card with such an overwhelming presence suggested exactly where those materials had gone.
Furthermore, even at the Erald rank, Artoria's aura approached the intensity of the Diamond rank, a feat that made Leon's survival instincts scream warnings.
Suppressing his unease, Leon cleared his throat. "That man is Antipas, one of the Ten Evils who serves the Fallen Cult."
His cards draw inspiration from Greek nymphs.
All four of them form a complete set."
Azrael exhaled slowly. His suspicions were confird: the red-haired man's quartet operated as a unified system, just as he'd feared.
Leon continued his explanation. "Each card embodies a different domain: water, mountain, sea, and forest."
"Our intelligence suggests their bond effect allows the four cards' abilities to synergize and reinforce each other exponentially."
Azrael didn't question why "water" and "sea" were considered separate categories. In Greek mythology, continental rivers and the ocean proper were considered two fundantally different divine authorities despite their superficial similarity.
However, the bond description made his eye twitch. "What kind of bond creates sothing like this?"
Leon gestured toward the oppressive forest spreading endlessly before them. "You've surely sensed it yourself. No ordinary Erald-level card could manifest vegetation on this scale.
Only under his bond's influence can such dramatic environntal transformation occur.
The more you attack the forest, the more violently it regenerates. The trees themselves interfere with every form of Erald-level detection we've tested."
Once trapped inside, Antipas uses his other three cards to attack you from every angle simultaneously.
He sighed, his frustration evident. "I never expected the Fallen Cult to deploy him specifically.
"Of the Ten Evils who aren't Diamond-rank, he's absolutely the last one I wanted to face."
Azrael found himself nodding in grim agreent.
In their brief encounter, both Artoria and Ulquiorra experienced Antipas's formidable defensive capabilities firsthand. His offensive power might not rival that of true combat specialists, but as long as Antipas committed to evasion, Azrael's cards wouldn't force a quick decisive confrontation.
Unless—
"Artoria unleashes Excalibur's full power."
Alternatively, Ulquiorra's sustained barrage of Lightning Lances could theoretically overwhelm the forest's regeneration capabilities. However, given the unknown situation outside the secret realm, Azrael needed to conserve ntal energy for potential ergencies.
Leon, having shared his hard-won intelligence, allowed himself a diplomatic smile. "Sir Azrael, surely you recognize my sincerity?"
"This information represents years of intelligence gathering by the British royal family."
Azrael barely suppressed a derisive snort.
He didn't believe for a second that Leon wanted to stay trapped there. The prince's generous information-sharing served purely to establish negotiating leverage for whatever ca next.
For instance,
"Given my cooperation, would you consider trading the venue materials you acquired in the Royal City?"
Leon's expression remained neutral as he produced materials from his storage. "I can offer an exchange: multiple high-grade materials for that single venue drop."
Azrael glanced at the offerings. Even a cursory examination revealed their exceptional quality, materials that would normally require extensive effort to obtain.
As if sensing hesitation, Leon sweetened the deal. "All of these materials for that one venue material. A more than fair trade, I believe."
Under different circumstances, Azrael would have accepted imdiately.
Unfortunately,
"I already used it."
Leon froze mid-gesture.
The brown-haired prince's face cycled through bewildernt, disbelief, and finally comprehension as the implications registered. His voice rose sharply. "You used it?!"
Azrael nodded silently.
Leon's expression beca a portrait of barely contained emotions: surprise warring with anger and regret mingling with frustration. Colors seed to play across his features like a kaleidoscope of disappointnt.
Still, he pressed forward with determination. "Sir Azrael, could you at least show the venue card you created?"
Azrael frowned slightly. He didn't enjoy revealing his capabilities, especially to soone he didn't trust. However, if displaying the Seireitei convinced Leon to abandon this futile negotiation, it might be worth the minor security compromise.
The Seireitei manifested in his hand: an undeniable erald-grade venue card that radiated spiritual pressure.
Leon stared at it, his hopes visibly crumbling. The venue card before him was unquestionably Erald-rank, aning the material had been permanently consud.
After an extended pause, he released a deep, defeated sigh. "This is entirely my fault. Please don't hold it against , Sir Azrael."
Despite his furious impulse to attack the young man before him, Leon ultimately mastered his emotions.
He recognized his own culpability. On that day in the Royal City, his judgnt had been clouded by rage, causing him to miss this crucial opportunity. Making the sa mistake twice would be unforgivable.
Moreover, even if he killed Azrael now, the venue material wouldn't magically reappear. It was gone, consud and transford into sothing new.
More pragmatically,
He couldn't actually defeat Azrael.
Considering these factors, Leon had no rational reason to create a mortal enemy over spilled milk. Making peace served everyone's interests better.
Glancing at Artoria and Ulquiorra, who were both silent yet radiating dangerous competence, Leon deliberately changed the subject. "What's your strategy for the upcoming battle, Sir Azrael?"
After a brief mont of consideration, Azrael asked, "Would vengeance completely obliterating the entire forest in one strike disable Antipas's abilities?"
"Absolutely," Leon confird. Then he turned his attention to Ulquiorra. "Are you planning to use that lightning attack from earlier?"
He was clearly referencing the Lightning Lance, the spiritual javelin that had carved a path of devastation across the battlefield.
However, based on Leon's calculations of its destructive output, the attack would require multiple successive strikes to achieve total annihilation, even at maximum power. This would an exposing Azrael to a prolonged assault during the charging intervals.
Azrael shook his head slightly. "I have another approach in mind."
Leon blinked in surprise but didn't press for details.
His emotional intelligence was sufficient to recognize when prying into a Lore Cardian's tactical plans crossed professional boundaries. So secrets were ant to remain private until deploynt.
After a mont's hesitation, Leon asked, "Do you need my help with weapons?"
He summoned the Lady of the Lake with a gesture.
His "assistance" referred specifically to weapons: his card's unique ability to manifest armants for allies.
However, when the ethereal woman appeared, she tilted her head in obvious confusion as she studied Artoria.
The blonde knight's aura felt inexplicably familiar. Even the holy sword she held resonated with sothing deep within the Lady's spiritual essence.
Yet, searching through her mories, the Lady of the Lake could not identify any figure matching Artoria's appearance.
She temporarily suppressed her puzzlent and prepared to offer a manifested blade.
However, Artoria politely declined the gesture.
As Azrael's card, she understood the Lady of the Lake's goodwill perfectly. Though this ethereal woman wasn't the Lady who had once given her Excalibur, her sentint was genuine and appreciated.
"Speaking of which, why has Antipas remained silent for so long?"
Azrael muttered, his tone colored by genuine puzzlent.
Leon caught the question and explained, "According to our investigation, his cards have very limited mobility outside their forest domain. Any aggressive advance risks exploitation."
Therefore, he typically waits inside his forest sanctuary, forcing opponents to attack his fortified position on his terms.
Unfortunately, normal Erald-level Lore Cardians simply can't effectively break through his defenses."
Leon's gaze shifted to Artoria, who now stood at the edge of the forest, her holy sword raised toward the heavens.
As the Lady of the Lake's bearer, Leon sensed the anomaly radiating from Azrael's card.
He'd ntally reviewed every female hero from Celtic mythology who might possess Erald-level strength. The list was remarkably short, and none of them matched the presence before him.
"Who could she possibly be?"
Leon stroked his chin thoughtfully, lost in speculation.
Beside him, Azrael conducted his own ntal calculations. "At this scale... I'll need to release so of the restraints, though the conditions are rather limiting."
Before the forest, Artoria exhaled slowly. Her eyes swept across the endless expanse of supernatural vegetation, cataloging the threat and asuring the necessary power.
Then she raised Excalibur high.
The next instant, the world itself seed to pause.
An inexplicable presence manifested, and voices echoed from nowhere and everywhere simultaneously, reaching every consciousness within range.
"The Thirteen Restraints are released. Round Table deliberations begin."
Leon and the Lady of the Lake froze simultaneously, their eyes widening in perfect synchronization.
"Round Table?!"
The implication hit them like a physical blow. They stared at the small figure in the distance, comprehension dawning.
"It can't be!"
Before they could fully process their shock, the voices continued, a chorus of questions and affirmations, masculine and feminine tones interweaving in a solemn ritual.
"This battle is for survival."
"Acknowledged, Bedivere."
"This battle is not against humanity."
"Acknowledged, Gaheris."
"This battle is waged with honor."
"Acknowledged, Palades."
"This battle is not fought for personal glory."
"Acknowledged, Gareth."
The world fell silent, except for those ghostly deliberations: ethereal voices posing conditions and granting approval. The spiritual remnants of legendary knights conducted their sacred duty from beyond death itself.
Leon and the Lady of the Lake stood completely paralyzed.
As a British prince steeped in his nation's legends, Leon knew whose voices those were and recognized the ritual unfolding before his eyes.
Beside him, Azrael exhaled in asured relief. "Only four restraints have been released."
Even Mordred's condition wasn't satisfied? Though apparently the requirent for 'battling evil' was t..."
Mordred's restraint required combat against evil, which Azrael had assud would be the easiest condition to fulfill, considering they were facing the Fallen Cult. "Does that an the Fallen Cult is neutral rather than actively evil?"
By this point, the sacred ritual had reached its culmination.
As Excalibur's wielder, Artoria was fully aware that only four of the thirteen restraints had been released.
But... It was enough.
"Excalibur!"
With the blonde knight's clear, determined cry, endless radiance erupted from the holy sword.
Light beyond mortal comprehension descended from heaven to earth, a pillar of pure, destructive divinity that instantly consud the vast forest before them.
The world turned white.
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