Evil Caster and Evil Saber

Artorius raised the gun and blew on the barrel, performing a gun trick like a cowboy before holstering the gun. He surveyed his surroundings and shouted:

"Come! You wanted my life, didn't you?! I'm right here! I won't back down a step! Are you coming or not?!"

In an instant, the wails and howls of the Dead's horde were drowned out by the Dragon Emperor's loud and proud voice.

Silence enveloped the entire city.

What is intimidation? This is intimidation.

No matter how much they despised him, hated him, or how crazed, vile, and revenge-driven they were, everyone who had harbored the intent to avenge themselves against him found themselves at a loss at that moment.

Because no matter their hatred, their loathing, or their vengeful desires, when standing before Artorius, a stronger emotion eclipsed all of the above.

Fear.

For fifteen hundred years, under the banner of the Dragon Emperor, the empire had waged wars on all fronts. The fearless Viking warriors, the proud and cunning Byzantines, the stubborn Egypt's Mamluks, the heavily armored cavalry of the Turks and Persians, the fanatical tribal warriors from Africa, America, and Oceania...

All had been crushed and shattered under the authority of the Dragon Emperor and the iron hooves of the empire. They surrendered, submitted, and were dominated.

Amidst the resentment and loathing, an underlying emotion still prevailed—Fear.

Even the Dead that got altered and resembled monsters from a certain zombie game, even these creatures that, theoretically, should have been devoid of human emotions, were momentarily suppressed by Artorius's presence alone.

They dared not step forward, challenge, or attack the emperor before them.

"Hmph!"

Artorius gave a cold snort, displaying utmost disdain for these feeble beings.

"Trhvmn Ortenrosse."

"And what about you, who claims to be the King of the Dead Apostles?"

Artorius scanned his surroundings.

"Aren't you the orchestrator of this chaos? Show yourself before me, you punk!"

Expectedly, no one responded to him.

Even if that so-called White Wing Lord had truly heard the Dragon Emperor's words, he merely let out a derisive snort and would remain silent.

Because he truly didn't dare.

Despite his previous act of crushing Kirei's skull, adopting an air of arrogance, he knew that if he were to truly confront the Dragon Emperor head-on, within three moves, the Dragon Emperor could snap his head off and use it as a ball to kick around.

"Trhvmn, not here?"

Artorius muttered and curled his lips.

"Then Strout, where are you? The loyal and righteous Black Knight, don't you wish to avenge your princess?"

"..."

"What's the matter? Are you afraid?! You coward?!"

"And what about you, Gransurg?!" Artorius held a gun in one hand and a sword in the other, continuing to loudly address the surroundings. "The dog of the Crimson Moon, you half-bird bastard, aren't you brave enough to seek revenge?!"

"..."

"Hahahaha!"

"Merem, Roa, Nrvnqsr—not a single one of you trash dares to stand up?!"

"Hahahahahaha!"

The Dragon Emperor laughed madly. Among the Twenty-seven Dead Apostle Ancestors, those who were still surviving had been called out one by one, but not even one responded. Thus, his shouting turned into roaring.

"You pieces of trash think you can oppose me with your kind of rubbish?! You damn cowards?!"

In the next moment, Artorius was engulfed by a sudden surge of tentacles.

Tentacles, tentacles, tentacles, hundreds, thousands, millions, tens of millions, and more. Tentacles carrying the stench of decay and blood burst forth from the darkness and chaos underground, flooding the streets, and tearing down buildings.

These writhing, chaotic tentacles attacked indiscriminately, not distinguishing between friend and foe. Whether it was the Imperial army or the vampires, anything within reach, even their own kind, became targets of their assault.

Amidst the frenzied undulating tentacles echoed a mad, furious, and mournful voice.

"I can't find her! I can't find her! No matter through slaughter or transformation, imprisonment or dissection, study or summoning, my holy maiden, I can't find her no matter whaaat!"

That frenzied voice belonged to Gilles von Rais. Once the Empire's colonel.

Amidst his furious roar, the tentacles writhed ominously. Some of them began to melt, then merge, and finally warped into even more chaotic and hazardous monstrosities.

Compared to the blow that had shattered Nobunaga's skull in a previous attack, the destructive power of the mad colonel was even stronger, and his madness more pronounced.

Gilles's rare act of insurrection among the upper echelons of the Empire, started eight hundred years after its dominion over Europe.

Before this, all the power he possessed, the knowledge he had acquired, the secrets he held, everything had been directed against the former ruler.

Caster—Gilles von Rais, the rebellious knight, confronted the Dragon Emperor with frenzied screams and forbidden knowledge, defying the emperor he had once sworn allegiance to.

While none of the Dead Apostles dared to challenge the Dragon Emperor, Gilles stepped forward. Driven by a near-suicidal madness, he lunged at the Dragon Emperor without hesitation.

Setting aside the eerie spectacle of those insane wriggling tentacles, their appearance was truly intimidating at first glance, evoking a sense of madness and impending doom that sent shivers down one's spine.

Meanwhile, as Artorius was trapped by the tentacles, X grew anxious.

"Son!"

Shouting like this, X grabbed her Secret-Calibur and was about to rush toward the tentacles, yet before that could happen—

"!"

*BAAANG!*

The brilliant blue holy sword clashed with the dark crimson demonic sword. At that instant, the self-proclaimed Mysterious Heroine X widened her eyes in disbelief.

"Ecchan?!"

Across from her stood a girl with glasses, her short blond hair elegantly arranged, dressed in ominous black armor.

It was like looking in a mirror, a spitting image of X, the only difference being their temperament and skin tone.

Paler.

On that endearing yet suffocatingly dreadful pale skin were menacing, ghastly scarlet markings. Her eyes were vertical slit pupils, reminiscent of a dragon's.

Saber—Mysterious Heroine X Alter. A girl with deep bonds and intertwined fate with X. Hail from the Dark Rounds, the child of destruction and the Sith destined to rule the universe.

'What's happening...?'

'No way right...?'

'Out of nowhere...'

Seeing one of her closest friends transformed into this aberration before her eyes, left X in shock.

===

As X was lost in thought, Ex (MHX Alter) swung her dual swords without hesitation, striking at X.

As her left-hand sword was about to hit its mark, X snapped back to reality, raising her own sword to block Ex's attack, only to be blasted back by the swing of the right-hand sword.

In just these two clashes, immense power and shimmering sword light beam caused the gothic spire atop the Tokyo Grand Hotel to collapse.

The dozens of meters-wide cross-section was as smooth as tofu. Hundreds of tons of stone and material came crashing down, reducing an entire section of the building to ruins.

Falling behind in every exchange, X found herself pinned by Ex. With each clash of their swords, the tower crumbled into rubble.

Seeing her cherished friend turned into this aberration, X panicked.

"Don't let them control you!" She shouted desperately toward Ex.

"Control? I am in complete control, fighting on my own will!"

Her voice was both gentle and intense, matching her swift and merciless attacks. Ex, summoned from the Servant Universe and thoroughly transformed through sinister modification, had her Saint Graph tainted.

"!!!"

In the next moment, X's cheek was grazed by the Ex's evil holy sword.

"..."

Blood trickled down the wound and X's expression started to grow dark.