89

Aim current appearance did not look particularly presentable to any onlookers. Of course, one could say that Aim - a Demon King - a creature whose 'normal' appearance is a column of pinkish flesh that is languidly shimmering and changing shape like a wriggling worm, is already a stretch to the description of 'presentable'. At least from a human point of view - at least a normal one. However, specifically right now, Aim looked even more unrepresentable compared to his normal appearance.

Although the several small wounds in his body did not bleed at all and in the several places where his flesh are crumpled, it still continued to tremble slowly, indicating that it was still alive. The wounds on Aim's body showed that fighting a Servant - even a Servant that is not that strong in a one-on-one fight like Drake - was not safe even for a Demon King.

However, Drake looked much worse than Aim.

Her scarlet camisole was torn and burned in many places - and the parts of Drake's body that is shown from under her clothes, were covered with charred clods of flesh. Which demonstrated that for Drake fighting Aim was a much more dangerous endeavour than for Aim to fight Drake.

"Heh, you are one tough bastard". But Drake, instead of choosing the path that Aim himself considered much more realistic, that is, admitting defeat and running away, just smirked. She wiped the clotted blood from the corner of her mouth, and then slowly pointed her the primitive pistol, turned into the Servant's weapon, at Aim. She then fired once more, - "How many bullets would I need to shoot to kill you if I were fully powered up?"

Aim was not a big fan of chatting during a fight, so after dodging the attack, he immediately retaliated. A moment later, a ball of fire the size of an adult's body struck the spot where Drake was a second ago.

Although Drake's speed was not in any way amazing, it nevertheless allowed her to easily move away from the path of the fireball and then attack again. Aim, who was not particularly worried about the attack, put up a shield against her attack and then planned to attack again.

Bah!

The spell created to easily stop Drake's shot, in Aim's estimation capable of withstanding it with the ease with which the ten-meter thick wall of steel could withstand a sloppily thrown stone, was pierced as if a hot knife through butter. As if the figurative steel wall had turned into a soap bubble as soon as Drake's attack touched it.

The sensation of pain - quite insignificant by Aim's standards - but a tangible one pierced his body. After which the bullet - or rather, a clot of mana that took the form of a bullet - that had settled in his body, slowly started to dissolve.

"How unpleasant..." - Aim attacked again, while still considering the significance of Drake's attack. This time, he took the attack a little more seriously so instead of sending a dozen of spells at once, he sent only a few - "How exactly does she do it?"

It is amazing how Francis Drake - far from the most powerful Servant - managed to do the impossible over and over again. Sometimes her blows would land softer than that of a feather - sometimes with a fierce blow that could even make Aim's body swing from the force of the collision. Sometimes his spells easily defended himself from Drake's attacks - and yet sometimes her bullets, as if by incredible coincidence, would circumvent his defense as if it is not affected by it at all. Sometimes even the spells that he casted just as a smokescreen could hurt Drake - sometimes the inferno created by his hands did not even touch her body. It was... chaotic, in a way, illogical, and perhaps, even ridiculous. It is as if every time Drake performed any of her actions, instead of the logical chain of 'cause and effect', it is as fate had to throw a dice to determine the result.

Aim did not like it at all. But yet, at the same time, his observation had brought him another piece of information that somewhat alleviated his consternation. Apparently, Drake herself did not have any control over the manifestation of her incredible luck. Therefore, despite the fact that Aim's battle itself didn't go the way he planned it to be, he could be sure that, despite all the hassle, he could hold out against Drake without any problems. Perhaps he could even kill her...

Which, however, was not the goal of the Demon King's plan.

Aim's gaze glanced over his allies fighting nearby, before the cry of Drake caught his attention - "My eyes are down here!"

In an instant, Drake's bullet, once again mystically circumventing all of Aim's defenses, crashed into one of the many eyes on his body. Forcing Aim himself to return his attention to Drake.

The Servant then had to evade a whole stream of fire, which easily immolated everything that was on the deck of the ship that was in its path, not even setting it on fire, but instantly turning it into charcoal. Drake, however, by the skin of her teeth - as if by a miracle - managed to escape from Aim's attack, and then immediately continued her battle with him.

This was another strange course of action from Drake that Aim did not understand the point of. However - even if he didn't understand something, he could still use it.

An explosion rumbled in the distance - most likely some Noble Phantasms of the enemy that he had not met before - after which Aim finally understood. It seems he will not be able to stretch the fight any further. Which means he should put an end to this fight as soon as possible. At least, he hoped that his allies had managed to achieve their goals.

"Tell me," Aim asked. "What are you counting on? Some kind of help from your allies? - Why are you prolonging this battle? Maybe you think that the tricks in your sleeve will help you win - or just hope for another successful miracle, hmm?"

"Ha, trying to provoke me?" Drake asked mockingly, continuing to grin. Considering that she did it while showing her teeth through the charred skin of her cheek, made her grin look much more intimidating than usual - "I'm Francis Drake and I have decided to kick your ass. Do you think I need some tricks? Then you are underestimating me greatly!"

Aim answered with a couple more spells, continuing to observe the situation around him. "Is that so? But for now, you only survive thanks to a miracle. I admit that I expected more from the 'great pirate'"

"Hah?" Drake just grinned in reply. "Your whole body is full of holes - put there by my bullets! Did you think that you became a sponge by accident?"

"Strictly speaking, I can't find any other explanation," Aim answered with a tired stiffness and some skepticism to Drake's bragging. "Good luck, chance or a miracle — call it what you like, the essence is still the same."

"Ha, I see, someone has high standards!" Drake fired again while stepping aside. Fortunately for Aim himself, Drake continued to keep some distance between them - which completely suited Aim's aim perfectly. If Drake were to come closer to him now, he would have had several problems with executing his plan.

"No, I just rate you that lowly," Aim was not a master of the word, but fortunately Drake did not need any veiled insults to stir her ego, "Or will you say that I'm wrong?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'll say," Drake grinned, and then backtracked, "but if you want me to show you everything why you are wrong, you came to the right place!"

"I hope so," Aim just looked at Drake, oblivious, "Hmm, really... It's time."

After another second, Drake chuckled, "Well, well, in that case... Golden Wild Hunt!"

Aim grinned.

It was too easy sometimes.

Jason swung his sword very casually - not because he was confident in his sword arm, but rather because he could not do otherwise. Indeed, although Jason wields a sword and was himself summoned as a Saber, the Servant of the Sword, perhaps he was one of the least suitable Servants in the class.

The sword in his hands was rather more like an expensive stylish accessory, like a ceremonial sword, rather than a weapon designed to inflict damage on the enemy. However, even in this very embarrassing case, his strength and speed as a Servant - even if not of the strongest and fastest - gave him some leeway regarding the quality of his fencing, usually.

However, his opponent right now is not one where brute strength would win him the battle.

A monstrous force from a tentacle of flesh knocked the spirit out of Jason, and other bits, causing him to fly away like a weightless ball. A scream full of pain was then heard - both from Jason and Medea, who just saw her lover getting thrown to the side. A second later, a flurry of spells crashed into the body of the Demon King - followed by a hail of arrows. And although the Demon King easily erected defensive spells after spell, some attacks from the Servants still managed to break through his defenses. The wounds sting - albeit slightly, but it was still an unpleasant experience for the Demon King .

Jason was not a worthy adversary for him at all, but the attacks from the other Servants was a different matter to Belial somewhat. It forced him to strain a little to defend himself from the myriad attacks, trying to prevent any damage to himself.

'Why didn't Astaroth choose to fight them?' - Belial grimaced internally, but still did not voice his thoughts out loud. Firstly, because it was a pointless gesture, and secondly because Astaroth was the most suitable person when it came to assessing the strength and potential of the enemy. If that was his judgment... Well, Belial could only hope that it was not wrong... Again.

The spells of Medea and the arrows of Atalanta... Belial alone could easily defend himself from any of their attacks, but together they were a problem. Not a big one, but still a problem.

Although the shield he erected arising on the path of a spell or an arrow could withstand one hit without any problems. If there were instead two hits in close succession, then the spell Belial casted in a hurry could not stand against it. And unfortunately, Atalanta and Medea, without even needing to talk to each other, seemed as if prescient in coordinating their attacks. Where the spell of Medea would hit in a second, the arrow of Atalanta would appear almost instantly too - and vice two Servants complemented each other's perfectly, acting together harmoniously - too harmoniously.

"So the teamwork from the legendary Argonauts looks like this?" Belial frowned. He could win, but... It wouldn't be an easy task. Moreover, winning was not part of the plan.

However, in order to survive until the plan could unfold, Belial needed to find a way to make the coordinated attacks of the two Argonauts cease. Should he find a better shield or make them not attack... Hmm...

"Hey-ya!" Jason's sword attack was insignificant, so Belial didn't even have to pay any attention to block it. He needed only a little effort to throw Jason back, however...

A much better idea then came to his mind, so instead of throwing Jason to the side, Belial swayed, allowing Jason to move to the side... Exactly on the trajectory of an enemy's attack.

"Perfect," Belial grinned internally. Jason then stood on the attack trajectory of his two allies, literally covering Belial with his body. Of course, Atalanta and Medea could still attack Belial easily from other angles, since Belial's body was much larger than Jason's - however...

Belial then attacked, forcing Jason to step aside into the path of another attack, then again, forcing him to rush to another side with a quiet swear. Ideally, by attacking Jason, he could make him move anywhere he wanted, covering Belial's body from all enemy attacks.

Jason then dealt another blow - Belial blocked the attack, forcing Jason to retreat to another side, after which Belial nodded with satisfaction. The attacks of Atalanta and Medea had practically stopped for fear of hurting Jason. Without any of Medea and Atalanta interfering, all Belial had to do was deal with the weak and ineffectual Jason.

Belial repulsed one attack, then another...

Definitely, dealing with Jason absolutely did not carry any dang-khe?!

The blade of Jason, which was still in his hands, always swung so hesitantly, with unexpected speed and force, rushed to pierce Belial's body, piercing through his flesh and pinning him in place.

"Ha?" - Belial froze for a second, seeing something such a ridiculous outcome, which was a very bad thing to do in a heated battle.

"GO!" Jason screamed, after which he applied more force into his sword. Belial noted in surprise a force that Jason had not shown before with his sword, driving it even deeper into Belial's body. Jason's sword acted like a pin on a butterfly, pinning Belial on a blade and nailing him in place.

"Phoebus Catastrophe!" Atalanta responded instantly, after which two arrows were shot from her bow, rushing into the sky.

"Phoebus Catastrophe?!" - Belial instantly panicked, after which his gaze came upon Jason - "But he will also die!"

Phoebus Catastrophe, the Noble Phantasm of the Heroic Spirit Atalanta, an endless rain of thousands of arrows falling upon the enemy. Belial... Could survive it. Not without significant damage to his being, but he would survive.

Jason... Jason absolutely couldn't.

Belial's gaze then came upon Jason, expecting to see in him a steel-like determination in his sacrifice, but instead...

"Pain Breaker!" Medea's voice answered him a moment later.

The sky flashed with a hundred twinkling stars, after which a shower of arrows fell on the earth.

The thousand monstrous arrows struck like ballistic shells, striking with such force that the ship they were on to tremble mightily, and the water beneath to sway as if during a storm. Many arrows struck the body of the Demon King... And many arrows also struck Jason.

In an instant, Jason's body was literally riddled with holes and in a thousandth of an instant was torned like minced meat. The grisly mess that was Saber froze before he died...

After that the Noble Phantasm of Medea was activated and Jason's body, which was now almost nothing more than a smear and some giblets, literally began to gather back into the shape of a man in front of his eyes. The gaping holes that appeared a moment ago were closed, healed as if they were not there at all...

Only so that the following arrows would tore up Jason's body again and again. Followed by his body being sewed again by Medea's Noble Phantasm.

For the few brief seconds of Atalanta Noble Phantasm, Jason and Belial were in hell.

Unlike Jason, Belial only suffered similar injuries that are not in any way fatal, but each such attack was potentially fatal for Jason. Each arrow of Atalanta that struck his body could kill him.

And yet the Noble Phantasm of Medea acted on.

Atalanta's Noble Phantasm was, in a way, boring and unsophisticated - many arrows striking from the sky in order to destroy its enemy.

Medea's Noble Phantasm on the other hand - at least this incarnation of the Witch of Betrayal - was... Not much more interesting in fact, but it was more interesting when compared with the many other Noble Phantasms, in that it did not take the form of some particularly strong attack. On the contrary, it was a Noble Phantasm whose purpose was to heal.

Monstrously strong, as expected of a Noble Phantasm, healing.

Atalanta's arrows in some way obeyed her commands - however, even such an accomplished archer like Atalanta could not change the trajectory of a thousand arrows with such precision that she would not hurt Jason. Therefore, Jason took advantage of Medea's healing abilities. Yes, after a hit from Atalanta's arrow, Jason will receive such a fatal wound that he would die almost instantly. However, this will not mean anything if Medea can heal his wounds during this period of time. Then - rinse and repeat, neutralizing the main problem of the Atalanta's Noble Phantasm while fighting with allies close to the enemy - its low accuracy.

Belial could easily turn off his perception of pain, but even without feeling any pain he could not act during Atalanta's Noble Phantasm, continuing only to defend himself. Unfortunately, Belial's ability to move was cut off due to Jason's actions, who, despite the fact that he continued to be in pain, still held his blade with all his strength, nailing Belial in place.

Still, with all his concentration on defense, some attack still managed to get through. Though with great efficiency on his defense, he was able to reduce the damage done to him.

"So hmmm..." - Belial took a quick look at his surroundings, trying to determine the current stage of the plan - 'Jason had restrained his strength, after which he was able to convince me that Atalanta and Medea were much more dangerous than him in this battle. Then he forced me to believe that he can be used to defend against the attacks of Medea and Atalanta, allowing him to remain close to me, only to force me into not moving... A great plan.'

The rain like arrows of Atalanta was enormous, but not endless. So after a while, when the stream of attacks had finally ended, Belial evaluated his body, noting with some displeasure more damage to it than he wanted, and then exhaled.

Hmm, is that Drake's Noble Phantasm activating?

Belial glanced into the distance, then nodded inwardly. Apparently, the battle was finally coming to an end.

After another second, Belial returned his mind to reality, looking into Jason's eyes.

Jason didn't look the best. Despite the fact that the Medea's Noble Phantasm was able to heal any wounds. surviving through the meat grinder that is Atalanta's Noble Phantasm was not something that he could easily survive and then forget.

"Now I understand why Astaroth chose you and not them," Belial answered calmly, after which a second later the column of flesh shuddered.

Jason, not even having time to scream out, tried to take a fighting stance to repel Belial's attack. But Belial was not rearing back for an attack. Belial's pink flesh started to cling to Jason's body, practically plunging him into the sea of flesh.

"What the hell?!" Jason only managed to shout out, but he did not manage to do anything else.

Indeed, Focalor's plan was simple in principle, to strike with all their might and sweep the enemy away. Nevertheless, Focalor did not forget about such a simple thing as 'free Servants of the Singularity'.

Chevalier sharply waved their sword - a movement that could deprive any unhappy layman who dared to stand in their way of their head. However, for all the failings of the bundle of problems in the shape of a Servant that is Edward 'Blackbeard' Teach, he was not a layman.

"Almost there!" Blackbeard avoided being struck by doing some unimaginably bad pirouette... Judging by the fact that Blackbeard was then stretched out on the deck of the ship a moment later, having clearly forgotten the limits of his abilities — Chevalier would have believed that it had happened more by accident, rather than on purpose.

After another second, Chevalier sharply thrust their sword. However, before the rapier could pierce Blackbeard, he rolled quickly away from the thrust , and then instantly jumped to his feet, - "Rock and roll baby!"

Chevalier frowned, and then attacked again, - "I can not help but notice your wonderful mood."

Blackbeard, swaying side to side to dodge the attack, tried to fight Chevalier hand-to-hand. A steel glove glittered in his hand on its way to hit Chevalier. From which Chevalier himself, nonetheless, easily sidestepped - "I am a pirate fighting a cute trap! What other kind of mood should I be?!"

"If I were so obscene, covered with mold, dirt, dried crumbs and sea salt," Chevalier frowned at Blackbeard, "My mood would be permanently spoiled."

"Hey hey, don't scold the charms of a /b/tard!" Blackbeard parried Chevalier's blow. "Don't hurt the feelings of a /b/tard, no one knows how he would take revenge on you!"

"What? Are you going to make vulgar paintings with me as the main role?" Chevalier attacked again, while dodging a counterattack.

"Well, I don't know how to draw," Blackbeard grinned, "But you can't imagine what I can do with just my thoughts!"

"I prefer not to try to imagine it," Chevalier dealt another blow, after which they frowned. "But judging by your appearance, I'm guessing your imagination is the closest you can go."

"And fiercely masturbate at them!" Blackbeard indignantly tried to correct Chevalier's words, after which he reached for the gun on his belt, "But still - I can do something else!"

Chevalier sighed and was ,honestly,a little upset. They had hoped that they could meet in battle with some beautiful maiden or a noble gentleman, but instead they got...'Blackbeard'.

After a second, Blackbeard tried to sharply throw the gun into the air for a dramatic effect, but his fingers slid along the trigger hook, causing the gun to spin sharply in his hands. Blackbeard, most likely obeying the simplest human reflex, instantly reached out with his two hands for the pistol, trying to catch it with his hands. A fatal mistake as it instantly distracted him. Chevalier, in turn, did not neglect such an opportunity.

The rapier instantly flashed forward, to pierce through the distracted Blackbeard.

"Ha, gotcha!" Blackbeard grinned a moment later, dodging to the side. Chevalier's narrow sword didn't hit anything, after which Blackbeard, like in some demented 'put on the ring' game, placed his gun in such a way that Chevalier's sword passed between the handle of the gun and the small trigger guard, bringing Saber's weapon into a dead lock. Blackbeard, not bothering to exchange courtesies, pulled the gun to one side, causing Chevalier to become unbalanced. Then without much thought punched the now open stomach of Chevalier with his other hand. After another second, Blackbeard kicked Chevalier away while continuing to hold the point of his sword in capture, thus depriving Chevalier of their weapon.

"And here you said that I was not suitable for anything," Blackbeard grinned, relishing at what had just happened, after which he easily pulled out Chevalier's sword and, imitating Saber's gallant manner, waved it, "Monsieur, I challenge you to a duel! If you lose, you will become my waifu!"

Chevalier, after flying back a few meters, slowly got up, looking at Blackbeard, who continued to look at Saber with gaiety in his eyes.

A crazed type of gaiety.

"Ha, you are very persistent. I admit that I underestimated you a little," Chevalier, whose stomach was still a little sore from Blackbeard's blow, grinned "So what if I..."

Chevalier instantly froze, sensing the activation of Drake's Noble Phantasm and grinned, "I'm sorry, this is where we will end our clash - this time."

"Ha?" Blackbeard instantly realized the danger he's in, pointing his gun at Chevalier, but it was too late.

"Fleur De Lys," Chevalier smiled, "Gorgeous Splendor of Blooming Lilie!"

Altera was strong. Much stronger than many other Servants. If it occurred to anyone to arrange a championship among all the Servants of the Throne of Heroes, Altera would most likely be among top ten.

The Demon Kings, however, were not at all weak either. Focalor, even if it was not his specialization, possessed very powerful barrier-type spells that could protect against the effects of almost any attack and ability.

But still - 'almost', is nowhere close to everything.

The monstrously powerful attack of Altera almost instantly destroyed the ship on which Focalor himself was, burning to cinders any form of life that it could carry. Focalor managed to react and defend himself. The crazed Gilles de Rais also managed to react, instantly summoning his host of monsters to help defend - but this was not enough.

Especially considering that Altera's power was greatly increased by Ainz's spells.

Therefore, after the miserable second when the ray of the Noble Phantasm of Altera beating from heaven finally ceased - before the Servants of Ainz was the completely burned Focalor, and a Caster, who had lost half of his body - and two relatively unscathed Servants.

"Forward!" Mozart planned to correct the last annoying omission.

"Prelati's Spellbook!" Caster instantly tried to appeal to the power of his Noble Phantasm. Indeed, after receiving such wounds, the only thing he could do was rely on the call of the monsters that would swallow his body and...

"Photon Ray!" Altera was faster.

"Ha, that was fast" - Caster only managed to let go of the last joke in his mind, after which, after a moment, a stream of light of incredible strength destroyed any trace of him.

"Saint War Order!" - Saber, the other Gilles de Rais activated his Noble Phantasm, the one that was able to give him, for a brief moment, a force superior to anything that he had ever possessed in his life. However, rather than cutting through Altera, his blade instead struck a huge shield that suddenly appeared on his way, - "Ha?"

Strengthened by his Noble Phantasm, Saber could force the normal Mashu to be blown away due to the force of his Noble Phantasm. But Mashu, as she was right now, possessing not only the strength of a Servant, but also the strength of Ainz's strengthening spells did not even budge. Instead, she easily intercepted the full force of Saber's strike on her shield and pushed him away, causing him to stagger - "Ha?!"

"Already here!" The blade in Nero's hands flashed with incredible speed, instantly cutting off Saber's hand, "Wow, I really got stronger!"

"Guillotine!.." - Marie-Antoinette, Rider, had managed to make a jump to attack Nero from above, but after a moment she suddenly realized that the wind under her feet had changed her trajectory. It was not difficult to realize the reason for this - "Mozart!"

"I apologize!" Mozart's spell instantly changed Rider's trajectory, causing her to miss Nero by a great distance. And like a feather stuck in a storm was thrown back with a force ten times greater than Mozart himself could have done without Ainz's spells, "Wow, Ainz's spells really were not just for show!"

Saber, who had lost his hand, immediately moved around in order to attack again, but the shield of Mashu, which crashed into his body but a moment later, knocked all the wind out of him, sending him into a short flight. A second later, having determined the trajectory of his fall, Saber managed to miraculously defend with his sword before Altera's monstrously strong blow could rob him of his second hand. Saber's blade flew a large to the side, drowning somewhere in the abyssal sea.

Nero's follow up attack could have easily ended Gilles part in this fight if it hadn't been for Focalor, who had finally recovered himself, erecting a barrier that protected Gilles from attack at the last second.

"Oh" - Focalor then with a horrified look gazed at Altera, which had identified him as a more important target. After a moment, Focalor's lost sight of Altera. But Focalor did not even have time to be horrified by this fact, because just a moment later the entire right half of his body ceased to exist due to just one blow from Altera.

"They should not be so strong!" - Focalor only managed to scream inwardly - "It's not just ridiculous, it's straight up bullshit!"

The spell that Focalor then casted on Altera's path could protect him from further attack. But as soon as he had created it, Focalor felt his barrier instantly crumbling due to external interference - "Mozart!"

Mozart who was nearby just grinned. With the bevy of buffing spells that was casted on Mozart, even Focalor's great command of magic was not an insurmountable obstacle for him.

As soon as the barrier failed, Altera's blade crashed into Focalor, tearing a huge piece of his flesh easily, causing Focalor to shudder in fear.

It wasn't even funny!

The battle took only ten seconds - and Focalor and all his Servants were literally smears!

"On the other hand ..." - Focalor suddenly clutched at the thought, but did not have time to continue it - "Ay!"

Mashu's shield crashed into the remainder of Focalor's body, throwing him forward like a ball, throwing him onto Ainz's ship.

Exactly where Ainz had asked his Servants to put any Demon King they were fighting.

"Why!" - Focalor had only managed to cast one spell, before Ainz's Servants appeared next to him - "These are not Servants, this is just a bunch of fucking juggernauts!"

"Guillotine Breaker!" - Marie Antoinette, who had managed to join in the fight, managed to use her Noble Phantasm, preventing Nero from trying to end Saber's existence.

Instantly, ice appeared under Nero's feet - ice as pure as crystal - but the ice was very slow. The Noble Phantasm that was supposed to freeze Nero completely and shackle her in ice was frozen in place and was not spreading at all. With a closer look the ice was indeed spreading, but at a glacial place. Slowly crawling over Nero's legs.

It seems that to Ainz, increased protection from ice-based attacks was common sense.

"It's not fair!" Marie-Antoinette only managed to barely vent out her outrage before Altera appeared as if from thin air, "Oh goodness..."

After another second, literally with one blow, Altera cut off Rider's head.

Mozart, Mashu and even Nero were pretty sure that that was intentional.

Altera had no doubt about things. Altera did things.

"Oh, come on!" - Focalor was forced to rely on prayer for any hope of salvation. And after a moment his prayer was heard - "Yes! At last!"

Chevalier's Noble Phantasm, its endless charm engulfed all of the fighting Servants. The charm that was able to...

Altera abruptly cut Saber's head off, and then rushed away.

Protection from mind control is a mandatory part of applying buffs to any player of Yggdrasil.

Focalor only blinked at the now headless and slowly disappearing Saber, and then exhaled - "It's just bullshit..."

His squad of Servants was turned into smears in... Thirty seconds?

Well, at least he can say that he fought with his full force and was defeated, not chickened out and then got himself killed on purpose.

With this thought, Focalor gazed up at the sky, where the Noble Phantasm of Francis Drake finally unravelled.

The myth of the Wild Hunt has been known for a long time, so long in fact that people were not sure where the myth came from originally. Ghostly horsemen galloping across the sky, that gather the souls of the dead and drag them along on their last trip.

The reign of the Wild Hunt, the place of honor of the first horseman was attributed to many people - great kings, gods, demons, biblical figures and the Devil himself.

So. one might ask, how did Francis Drake take control of the Wild Hunt?..

It was an impossible thing.

Not a great hero, not a god, not a demon, 'only' a famous pirate captain.

Strictly speaking, such a thing was not strictly impossible, after all nobody knows who actually led the Wild Hunt, so why not Francis Drake? From the point of view of logic, mythology, and even common sense - such a thing was impossible.

Perhaps that is the reason Francis Drake became the head of the Wild Hunt. Precisely because it was impossible.

The great admiral, the one that broke the 'Invincible Armada'. The one that was able to set the sun on the 'undying empire of Spain'. The one that changed history, turning Britain into a great empire.

To do the impossible was what Francis Drake loved to do.

'Can't possibly be the one in charge of the Wild Hunt'? ' The Wild Hunt consists of horsemen, and not of ships'? 'Ships don't fly'?

Hmm, then sit down and listen, Sir Drake has some interesting news for you!

The sky over the entire fleet was instantly shrouded in clouds, after which the thunderstorm cast shadows in the air with strokes of lightning.

The exact composition of the Wild Hunt is unknown, but their purpose is widely known. According to legend, they collect the souls of people.

And, fortunately or not, Francis Drake had collected a considerable tribute of souls among the living.

Her enemies, her friends. Her fleet.

The Invincible Armada.

Three hundred ships. Fifty thousand soldiers.

And five thousand loaded guns.

Drake grinned at the moment when her opponent - whose facial expressions were hard to see - froze, and then gave the order.

"Fire!" And thunder struck.

Aim who was fighting her was blown to pieces instantly. However, this was the plan.

Focalor felt Aim dying and exhaled.

This meant that the plan was successful.

Anne Bonny and Mary Reed. Successfully captured.

Jason. Successfully captured.

Heracles Successfully captured.

Edward 'Blackbeard' Teach Successfully captured.

Charles Henri Sanson. Successfully returned.

Chevalier d'Eon. Successfully returned.

Belial. Successfully returned.

Astaroth. Successfully returned.

Losses - Aim, Marie Antoinette, Gilles de Rais and Gilles de Rais - again. And most importantly, the impact of such a powerful Noble Phantasm would erase any traces of the retreat and teleportation of the Demon Kings, so that the position and location of their base was now undetectable.

It was far from the worst plan in the world, Focalor would even call it a great plan.

It was easy to convince the other Demon Kings on such a plan, it was really good. Without fear of losing much of their military force, they would then receive a significant amount of information about their opponents, About their military strength... But most importantly...

Focalor will finally die!

And he can see no problem with that happening. Indeed, why risk dying from an unknown enemy that can kill you for good, if Focalor could die during a battle with known Servants and calmly return to his King? Not as a coward and a traitor, but as the faithful servant who had performed his duty to the very end.

Therefore, when the cannon shot that would end his life fell down Focalor - or rather, the still living remnant of his flesh - did not even try to escape or defend himself. He could, but did not plan on doing such a stupid thing, to grab defeat from the jaws of victory. It was best for him to die now.

Therefore, Focalor with some joy even looked forward to the pain that would come at the time when his body would be struck by the countless shells.

And so when the pain did not come, Focalor immediately realized that something very, very horrible had just happened.

Focalor instantly focused on the space surrounding him, before realizing that the still living part of his body was covered by a small umbrella in a thin girl's hand.

Then Focalor's gaze came upon a man in an expensive suit next to a girl - and then the man with an unusually beautiful, albeit not remarkable appearance, nearby.

Focalor instantly knew who was next to him.

Focalor tried to teleport away - but suddenly felt his abilities failing him. He seemed to be trying to jump out of a window to escape a serial killer, only to discover that the window was painted on.

A moment later, Focalor realized.

The ship.

The whole ship was a trap.

"I admit, I did not know how long my spell on the ship would last," Addressing Focalor was a man with a beautifully unremarkable appearance, "Creating such things has never been my specialty. But still it worked - so I suppose we can say that everything went according to plan."

The ship was created by Ainz's magic. It was saturated with it. Focalor simply could not make out in the heat of battle that the object created by Ainz's magic had additionally held onto itself another enchantment.

"Ha ha..." Focalor nervously let out a laugh, "I am in danger..."

And Focalor was damn right.

Rank: *

Rank classification is not applicable.