Suddenly, in the distance, a continuous and relentless sound of breaking glass could be heard, as if soone had instantly shattered all the windows in a corridor.
The one responsible for this was Kenneth, who had now forgotten his earlier statent of "minimal destruction of the castle" and was solely focused on eliminating the detestable rat, Emiya Kiritsugu.
A large hole had been opened on his left shoulder by Kiritsugu's final pistol shot—the Thompson Contender.
With its walnut handle, a barrel much longer than a typical handgun, and a design resembling a rifle, it was one of the most powerful handguns in the world.
After Kiritsugu's modifications, this gun had been transford into a magecraft Mystic Code, with performance surpassing that of the original Contender.
The bullets fired from Kiritsugu's Contender were 2.5 tis faster than those of the M950 and had a destructive power seven tis greater.
The speed of the rcury's liquid core mainly relied on pressure. Although the solid rcury could quickly expand into a thin film through pressure, it was impossible to rapidly revert from a thin film state through pressure alone. This was the limit of fluid chanics.
Therefore, when faced with a sudden high-powered attack, the rcury couldn't react quickly enough to form a strong defensive system.
The mirror-like smooth surface of the rcury film was pierced by a large hole, and the bullet tore through the air, piercing Kenneth's body at a speed far beyond his reaction.
Thanks to the opaque nature of rcury, Kiritsugu couldn't see Kenneth's exact position; otherwise, that shot could have taken Kenneth's life directly.
Kenneth, screaming in agony, was filled with unprecedented rage.
"Scalp!"
With a roar filled with killing intent, the rcury unleashed a deadly strike.
This strike left deep marks on the exterior window and interior wall of the corridor, and the sound of shattering glass could be heard even in the forest.
However, this strike didn't cause much trouble for Kiritsugu. During the M950's feint attack, he had already retreated ten ters away, providing enough distance and giving him sufficient space and ti.
Dodging the long whip of rcury, Kiritsugu quickly escaped Kenneth's line of sight before he could continue his attack.
Anger corroded Kenneth's heart bit by bit, like sulfuric acid.
"You're so foolish. I didn't participate in the Holy Grail War for this kind of battle."
He was a top-class magus and should not have lost his composure due to emotions, especially in a battle of life and death.
If this had been a secret magical duel between top-class magi, Kenneth would never have been angry. Instead, he would marvel and admire his opponent's skill, calmly deduce their true worth, and focus on performing magecraft as a proper response and courtesy to the enemy's magical techniques.
The noble and glorious aristocratic ga, known to Kenneth as the Holy Grail War, was his battlefield. He staked his claim to the Holy Grail and had co to this remote eastern land to compete against Tohsaka Tokiomi, Matou Zouken (unknown to the outside world that Zouken had already died), and four other formidable opponents he had yet to encounter.
However, the pain from the wound on his right shoulder mocked Kenneth, almost as if it were laughing at him.
"Impossible! That despicable rat made bleed!"
This was not a wound sustained in honorable combat. Such vile thods did not deserve to be called a battle.
With a trance-like stride, Kenneth pursued Emiya Kiritsugu, who was fleeing.
The anger, with no outlet, transford into a destructive impulse, coursing through the liquid core of rcury. Kenneth wielded the whip of rcury, striking the walls of the surrounding corridor.
Instead of simply pushing open the doors that obstructed his path, he shattered them with the weight of the rcury.
Vases, paintings, and elegant furniture—every decorative item he laid eyes upon was shattered and destroyed.
Various traps lay in wait along the way. Ropes would ensnare Kenneth's defenseless fingers, hidden tripwires in carpets would trigger the explosion of a prepared hand grenade, and landmines would release buckshot.
However, no trap could breach the defenses of the liquid core of rcury.
The set traps seed like toys designed to deceive children, and their ridiculousness made Kenneth find them laughable. But that laughter, simultaneously, mocked Kenneth himself, who was being toyed with like a child deceived by toys and wounded.
Self-derision cut into his pride like a razor, and that humiliation further fueled the anger in his heart.
His esteed Mystic Code was not ant to contend with such vile thods. His rcury should be capable of intercepting curse bullets, deflecting spiritual blades, and breaking through armants of fire, ice, and lightning in magic. It should be an armant that would make the magi who detested him marvel and fear, reaching the secret arts of death.
So, what had beco of his current state of magnificence?
Using his esteed Mystic Code to pursue an unknown rat filled him with an overwhelming sense of humiliation. And as ti passed, that humiliation grew more and more pronounced.
Fortunately, this chase of humiliation was finally nearing its end.
No matter how vast the castle was, the escape route beca exceedingly limited as they ascended to the upper floors. The rat had been cornered at the end of the corridor on the third floor.
The liquid core of rcury accurately detected his position this ti, and it appeared that the target had given up resistance and was preparing for a final confrontation there.
"A confrontation? No, this is not a confrontation. It's an execution, a massacre!"
Kenneth, consud by a cruel and murderous intent, reached the final corner of the corridor with his Mystic Code in hand. There was no retreat, no cover. It was the perfect location for the liquid core of rcury to unleash its power.
Emiya Kiritsugu displayed no fear or plea. He simply aid his two guns at Kenneth.
"Do you truly believe your previous tactics will work once more? Pitiful creature. The fact that you managed to wound was not due to seizing an opportunity or succeeding in a surprise attack. It was simply an unreasonable coincidence," Kenneth uttered grimly, slowly advancing towards Kiritsugu step by step. The liquid core of rcury beside him twisted and contorted, forming countless nacing whips with sharp ends that swayed ominously.
"I won't kill you easily. I will continuously heal your lungs and heart, then use a knife to cut you into pieces from head to toe. You will die in agony, regret, and despair, cursing Einzbern for daring to insult the Holy Grail War!"
Kiritsugu raised his M950 and unleashed a barrage of gunfire, replicating his earlier attack in the first-floor corridor.
"Fevor, isanguis! (Boil, my blood)!"
Kenneth, however, was not foolish enough to defend using the sa thod. He reconstructed the rcury's defense.
Instead of forming a thin film, he transford it into a pillar-like structure.
Countless reverse thorns sprouted from the floor to the ceiling, covering Kenneth's body like a dense bamboo forest, completely shielding him from the flying bullets.
The bullets, blocked by the rcury blades, ricocheted back and forth within the narrow gaps of the dense thorns, gradually losing their montum and falling to the ground. Not a single one managed to reach Kenneth's body.
Emiya Kiritsugu showed no indication of altering his strategy. As the magazine of the M950 emptied, a roar emanated from his right hand—the Thompson Contender.
This ti, the true Noon had arrived.
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