C85

The flames blazed on relentlessly, devouring all that lay in their path. Miyama, once a proud and traditional town, was reduced to ashes and obliterated by the ferocious inferno. The carnage was truly a spectacle to behold, a final, magnificent display akin to a grand fireworks show, signifying the end of an era.

"Boom--"

A deafening explosion rocked the surroundings, but Tokiomi remained stoic, gazing blankly at the stump on his arm where his hand used to be. His hand had been severed, and along with it, the Magic Crest, an ancestral legacy, had vanished into thin air.

Tokiomi felt himself losing his grip on reality, but he was acutely aware that he couldn't afford to let madness consume him. He had a wife and two children to consider, and the mere thought of leaving them to suffer the consequences of his instability was unbearable. Though struggling to keep it together, he reminded himself that he had to be strong for his family's sake.

Moreover, the destruction of the Magic Crest does not have to be the end. There are professionals known as Tuners who have the skills to restore it, right?

"Is there still hope if it hasn't been completely destroyed? The chances may be slim, and the cost of repair may bankrupt the Tohsaka family, but it's not entirely impossible, is it?"

"I must not lose control. I cannot afford to lose control! Above all, that traitor is still out there, isn't he?" Tokiomi's hands trembled as he reached for the Azoth sword, the very weapon that had cost him his arm.

"Boom--!!!"

The sound of an explosion echoed outside the window, and Tokiomi's face was reflected in the gleaming surface of the sword. He saw his own face, contorted and covered in blood, staring back at him. He reminded himself that he must keep his composure.

...

The golden weapons, a manifestation of a king's intense anger, rained down upon Shirou.

The projection of the Heroic Spirit Emiya had vanished, and Shirou was unable to project any of the swords recorded in Emiya's Saint Graph. Those were not his weapons, but Emiya's projections.

Despite this, the solution was right in front of him. Shirou analyzed the structure of the incoming weapons as he used black mud as a barrier.

"Ka-ka-ka-ka-ka-ka---"

The weapons that were fired at the mud barrier failed to penetrate it, instead, they were immediately contaminated and corroded by the curse of the mud and ultimately swallowed by it.

"You filthy, disgusting mongrel!" Gilgamesh bellowed in rage as he took in the situation, the anger in his eyes intensifying. He had seen the true nature of the mud, it was impossible for him to miss it. From the moment Shirou emerged, it would have been strange if Gilgamesh couldn't discern the truth of the mud that was right before him.

Gilgamesh retrieved his inferior weapons and swapped them for A-rank Noble Phantasms. Only weapons of A-rank and above could pierce through the mud's defense and avoid destruction by its curse. As a result, the majority of the treasures in the Gate of Babylon were filtered out.

Consumed by his rage, Gilgamesh paid no heed to these trivialities. The one who had dared to replace Enkidu and invade his heart must be punished with death!

The concepts of heroes and flames were no longer of relevance to him.

"Ssss--!!!"

Shirou gazed at the incoming attack from the high-ranking Noble Phantasm. Projecting eight mountainous swords, each thirty meters long, he manipulated them with eight black hands, following the combat philosophy of Kalaripayattu.

"Clang, clang, clang!"

The eight massive swords swung in a deadly dance, knocking each of the high-ranking Noble Phantasms away with their ferocious might.

Despite a few of them breaking through the defenses of the giant swords and hurtling toward Shirou, the remaining mud coalesced into several black walls, effectively blocking their path and protecting him from harm.

Currently, eight arms were currently his limit, but there was still enough mud left to use as a defense.

Shirou mimicked the high-rank Noble Phantasms, projecting them and firing them back at Gilgamesh in retaliation.

"You copied a bunch of imitations, do you truly believe they will be effective against me, Faker?" Gilgamesh sneered, his anger and annoyance apparent. He retrieved several shields from his Gate of Babylon and effortlessly blocked Shirou's copied weapons.

Gilgamesh dismissed his shield and retrieved eighteen high-rank Noble Phantasms, ready to fire, but what he saw made his eyes narrow slightly.

Surrounding Shirou was the Noble Phantasms that Gilgamesh had previously taken out, filling the air. It was clear that these were all copies, not just one, but multiple duplicates, each replicated more than twenty times!

"While single imitations may not match the original, I'll defeat you with twenty of them," Shirou declared confidently. He extended his hand and the nearly three hundred Noble Phantasms surrounding him rained down upon Gilgamesh like a rain of swords.

In response, Gilgamesh was forced to open the door of his treasury to the extreme and retrieve 128 Noble Phantasm, counterattacking half of them and using several shield-like items to defend himself.

"Clang, clang, clang!!!"

The weapons from both sides clashed in the air, ringing with the sound of metal. This was a battle of both quantity and quality!

In terms of quality, Gilgamesh's authentic weapons overpowered Shirou's imitation weapons as they descended upon him, wielding the power of thunder. However, in terms of quantity, Shirou's counterfeit weapons dominated, with some swords managing to penetrate Gilgamesh's line of Noble Phantasms and pelting him with a barrage of blades.

Shirou looked at the shield that guarded Gilgamesh and replicated it, then projected twenty more from each side, positioning them in front of himself to form a barrier. He also conjured ten mud walls behind the shield, providing added protection.

"Rumble-!!!!"

The clash of swords was fierce and unrelenting, with both sides raining blades upon each other with unbridled ferocity. The sound of clashing steel filled the air as sparks flew in every direction. Despite the intense assault, Shirou's shields began to crack and splinter under the weight of Gilgamesh's relentless onslaught. But the mud walls he had erected absorbed the impact and protected him.

Meanwhile, Gilgamesh's shield was punctured, revealing a look of pure fury on his face as he glared at Shirou.

"You could say that I am your nemesis, Gilgamesh," Shirou declared. "My mud walls will keep me safe, and I can replicate any treasure you possess. But do you have enough treasure to defeat me, King of Heroes?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, mongrel!"

Gilgamesh took out a sword from the Gate of Babylon, its mystical power pulsing with energy. In a split second, a powerful beam of light shot toward Shirou with devastating force.

There was no mistaking it, this was the prototype of Caliburn. However, Gilgamesh was merely infusing it with his magical energy, failing to unleash its True Name. As a result, the beam of light that it emitted was estimated to be three times more powerful than the light beam produced by Shirou's replicated Caliburn.

No worries!

Mud rose up behind Shirou, and eight massive hands extended like shields, directly blocking the Caliburn's radiant light.

Gilgamesh retrieved a cursed spear, Gaebolg, and hurled it at Shirou. With the ability to "penetrate its target no matter how they evade," the spear fragmented into thirty short spears and pelted Shirou from all directions.

However, Thirty black hands suddenly emerged from the arms of the eight massive hands that were blocking Caliburn's light. They seized each of the short spears and dragged them down into the mud, causing a deafening screech to echo through the air.

"Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle."

With a fierce gleam in his eye, Gilgamesh reached once more into the Gate of Babylon and withdrew a terrifying weapon: the scythe of death. The weapon's long, curved blade glinted wickedly in the light as Gilgamesh swung it with a sweeping motion, the blade seeming to cut through space itself as it descended upon Shirou with devastating force.

But Shirou was ready. With lightning-fast reflexes, he summoned forth his power and two massive hands erupted from his abdomen, each one clasping the deadly blade and halting its progress in mid-air.

Shirou declared, "It's pointless. Regardless of whether the cause and effect are inevitable or unavoidable, no Noble Phantasm of causality can break through my mud."

Gilgamesh took out Dainsleif, the infamous sword of destruction, but the curse of the mud was far too powerful and the sword's own curse was inverted, causing it to crumble.

Gilgamesh then pulled out one after another, a series of Noble Phantasms with peculiar abilities such as Gram, Caladbolg, a formless lightning bolt, and so forth. However, no matter if it was an assault with a destruction curse, an inevitable cause and effect, or even an attack across dimensions, they were unable to penetrate the barrier of the mud.

The mud that housed all the world's evil appeared to be the most impregnable fortress in existence. Regardless of causality or curse, it effortlessly absorbed everything thrown it's way.

"I must admit, you now possess the qualification to confront Ea!" Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes, radiating a chill. The Gate of Babylon opened behind him, revealing a golden sword hilt that gradually emerged.

"---!!!"

Gilgamesh reached for the hilt, but a whistling sound made him instinctively flinch. He saw a duplicate of the cursed sword Dainsleif whizz by, narrowly missing his hand. If it weren't for his quick reflexes, his limb would have been severed.

"I won't allow you to use that sword," Shirou spoke as he slowly lowered his hand.

"Are you afraid, you mongrel?" Gilgamesh sneered, his face twisted in contempt.

But Shirou nodded and replied, "Yes, both that sword and Artoria's holy sword are beyond my ability to deflect."

He spoke with a serene expression as if stating a fact of life, devoid of any embarrassment. Gilgamesh felt the same frustration as Artoria did.

Initially, when he was engulfed by the mud, Gilgamesh did not view the motley evil thoughts as anything extraordinary. They were merely a collection of the wicked thoughts of a pack of mongrels, and their most potent power was their ability to pollute the will of others and cast curses. But as Shirou fought alongside the mud, he finally came to understand how bothersome it was.

Curses are ineffective, causality is ineffective, and dimensional attacks are ineffective... Attacks from Noble Phantasm below Rank A cannot even cause fluctuations and are swallowed by the mud. When A-Rank and above Noble Phantasms attack, Shirou directly duplicates over twenty of them and shoots them down.

Facing the mud and that evil, even with the Gate of Babylon and all the original treasures of the heroic spirits, Gilgamesh found it difficult.

This reminds him of the past. Despite his divine wisdom obtained from the gods, he was helpless in front of the people of Sumerians whom he had loved so dearly during his lifetime.

But perhaps this was also a result of his own actions. Gilgamesh believed he had foreseen everything and created a foolproof script, but reality proved otherwise. Loopholes emerged and the script began to falter.

Just like during his reign in Uruk, he had made a meticulous plan for the Sumerians to break away from the gods and thrive in the human era. However, in the end, the plan was easily torn apart by the main character of the plan.

Gilgamesh could tolerate the targeting of Shirou by those spirits and even the arrival of the Enlightened One, but Shirou's acceptance of the mud was the one thing that completely unraveled his script. This was the point at which everything fell apart.

Gilgamesh's intention was solely to provide Shirou with the mana necessary to overcome the trials, even if it meant using all the world's evil to devour him. However, he never anticipated that Shirou would directly extract the evil mud. This unexpected outcome, beyond even his eyes and wisdom, came as a genuine surprise to him.

The mongrel had completely shattered the predetermined outcome of the future!

He had created a true monster!

And now, he must face the consequences of his actions.

The mere existence of a single piece of mud may not have been a cause for concern, but combined with the Grail system that had accumulated magical energy over hundreds of years, the constant influx of mana from the transformation of human evil, and the replication and projection, it created a truly daunting situation.

At this moment, Gilgamesh's only way of victory is to use Ea to break apart the mud with its power to open the sky and crack the earth.

But Shirou was well aware of the power of Ea and would not allow Gilgamesh the opportunity to wield it. If Gilgamesh dared to draw the sword, Shirou would launch a ferocious attack without hesitation, leaving Gilgamesh little energy to defend himself. As a result, Gilgamesh, who was ready to unleash Ea, would likely be caught off guard.

"I must admit, you've become a valuable opponent for this king to take seriously," Gilgamesh said, tapping his foot before jumping down from the street light. As he descended, a shimmering boat made of gold and emerald appeared beneath him, the Vimana.

With a graceful motion, Gilgamesh seated himself on the throne of the radiant Vimana and set sail toward the sky.

"Trying to escape?" Shirou asked.

"How foolish! The heavens and the earth are all within my kingdom," Gilgamesh proclaimed haughtily.

"So you want to fight in the sky, take advantage of aerial mobility to unleash Ea upon me?" Shirou yelled, "Don't have any illusions, I won't let you release Ea!"

The mud around Shirou roiled and enveloped him, forming a mud war machine.

Seated in the cockpit of his mud machine, Shirou ignited the sixteen small magical thrusters with spread wings. The thrusters burst with magical energy, propelling the machine into the sky like a meteor and hurtling toward Gilgamesh's radiant Vimana.

...

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