The Battle Heats Up

"Hahahahahahaha—!"

In front of Selene stood a middle-aged man dressed in a medieval green gown, laughing as if no one else existed.

Selene's eyes twitched slightly. The self-absorbed attitude of this Red Caster, William Shakespeare, was truly irritating.

William Shakespeare, the greatest playwright in the history of the British Isles and one of the most outstanding writers in Western literary history, was a staunch advocate of storytelling above all else. He would even resort to deception or fabrication just to see the best story unfold.

Like all literary geniuses, he suffered from the common flaws of great minds, with perspectives and behaviors that diverged from the norm.

As a Servant, he disliked combat and preferred to watch events unfold as a spectator. He constantly sought to gauge Selene's inner thoughts, which only irritated her further.

But considering that there's a fine line between genius and madness, Shakespeare's eccentricity seemed... almost unsurprising.

"Your Majesty, please behold my next performance..."

Before he could finish speaking, Red Caster Shakespeare's body suddenly contorted grotesquely. His limbs pressed tightly against his torso, and his bones cracked audibly.

"Cough... I... I shall return again!"

Simulated Repulsion.

You may be brilliant, but I don't want to hear it!

Selene had no interest in hearing Shakespeare's endless ramblings. She massaged her temple with one hand while tightening her other into a fist, aiming at him.

Crack! Splat!

Under the overwhelming pressure of Selene's A+ rank Mana Burst, Shakespeare's pitiful E-rank endurance was no match. With a sickening squelch, his muscles and bones were crushed, his body reduced to a twisted heap of blood and flesh at Selene's feet.

Soon, Shakespeare's mangled corpse dissolved into azure particles of magical energy, fading away before her eyes.

But then...

"Haha—! I am back again! O esteemed Black Rider!"

The blood and flesh vanished, the blue mana particles reformed, and Shakespeare reappeared before Selene, completely unscathed.

"This Self-Preservation skill is as resilient as a cockroach." Shaking her head, Selene didn't bother attacking again.

This was already Shakespeare's fourth "resurrection."

When he first appeared, Selene's body had reacted instinctively—launching a surge of magical energy at him without a second thought.

However, relying on his Self-Preservation skill, Shakespeare kept reviving, persistently engaging with her, like an annoying piece of gum stuck to the sole of her shoe. No matter how many times Selene killed him, he regenerated, even after she destroyed his Spirit Core. As long as he had sufficient mana, and his Master didn't die, he could keep coming back.

Although Shakespeare had no real combat ability—lacking even basic magical skills or tools—he served as a support unit, enhancing his Master and their possessions with his A-rank skill Infinite Mana Supply.

Without a doubt, Red Caster William Shakespeare was the most difficult Servant to kill in the Romania Holy Grail War, with the strongest survival ability among both factions.

"A cockroach? Are you referring to me? Ahhh—! How crude! Such a description deeply wounds me! Oh, noble Empress, prepare to face my wrath!"

His voice now full of melodrama, Shakespeare clutched his chest, as if mortally offended by Selene's words.

"Your wrath? That's the funniest joke I've heard today." Selene held back a laugh, her face displaying exaggerated surprise.

In reality, as Selene surmised, what else could Shakespeare do besides serve as a mere support unit? Was he going to act as the chronicler of this war?

Seeing the disdain in Selene's eyes, Shakespeare didn't explain himself. Instead, he maintained his air of mystery, appearing to relish the attention from a divine being like Selene.

Then, Shakespeare raised his arms dramatically, a smug smile appearing on his face. "Your Majesty, prepare for a miracle from me!"

With a flourish, he placed one hand on his chest and then raised both arms high into the air. Suddenly, a book materialized in his hand.

"Now, it's the opening time!"

He declared loudly, as if standing at the center of the grand stage of an English theater.

"Behold, O proud Empress, this is my Noble Phantasm—"

"The time for the performance has arrived! Here I present First Folio!"

"..."

"Eh?"

He stood there, arms raised, waiting, but nothing happened. After a long pause, Shakespeare looked at his hands in disbelief.

Seeing Selene's playful expression, as if she were watching a monkey perform, even Shakespeare's thick-skinned nature couldn't hide his embarrassment.

"Huh?! Why can't I activate my Noble Phantasm?!"

"You fool. That's because you're in my domain!" Selene replied coldly, having lost interest in playing along with Red Caster.

Indeed, Shakespeare's Noble Phantasm dealt no physical damage, but it targeted the deepest traumas in an opponent's heart.

Of course, Selene had prepared defenses against this. While confident in her willpower, she had no intention of letting an illusion affect her mood. After all, the description "the more confident one is in their body, the more vulnerable they are to this Noble Phantasm" seemed directed at her.

So, to avoid unnecessary distractions, she resolved the issue at the source.

Selene's silver-white gauntleted fingers moved rhythmically through the air, and immediately, Shakespeare felt an indescribable wave of magic (Honkai Energy) surge from the ground.

His vision was flooded with purple-red light.

"O Black Rider, even if you kill me again, I shall return!"

Shakespeare's body was enveloped in the tangible purple-red magical "tentacles," his form sinking into a sea of magic.

"Who said I was going to kill you? Isn't your wish to witness the heroes clash in brutal warfare, vying for supremacy? Well, I'm not going to grant you that wish. I'll imprison you until the Holy Grail War ends."

Selene shook her head, as if disappointed. "What a shame... another great epic in human history, cut off by me."

"I almost feel a little guilty," she added, casting a sidelong glance at the dumbfounded Shakespeare.

To wound him emotionally like this was a far greater blow than mere physical death.

"Oh no—! Black Rider, how could you do this?! You're suppressing human thought! You're stifling the growth of literature!" This time, Shakespeare's panic was genuine.

Even if his Master were killed and he was forced to exit the war, he wouldn't care as much. In fact, even the defeat of his faction wouldn't faze him.

But this—denying him the chance to witness the spectacle he had longed for—this was truly unbearable!

The fulfillment of his wish was slipping through his fingers...

He was about to be imprisoned, unable to witness the grand climax he had dreamed of.

It was like watching a cooked meal being taken away just before he could taste it! How could he accept that?!

"I won't stand for this! You—"

Before he could finish, Selene waved her hand, and the purple-red magical tendrils coiled around his head, silencing him completely as his form vanished into the magical "sea."

With that, Selene turned her gaze toward the direction of Trifas, her crimson diamond-shaped pupils gleaming ominously.

"Red Lancer Karna... truly worthy of being the pinnacle of this Holy Grail War. He's single-handedly suppressing Vlad and the others."

Midnight had passed. It was time to bring this war to an end.

Buzz—!

As Selene made up her mind, the purple-red magical particles around her vibrated like thunder, sending shockwaves rippling through the air, stirring up violent gusts of wind.

Then, Boom!

Breaking through one sound barrier after another, Selene shot into the sky like a streak of purple-red light. Like a comet tearing through the atmosphere, she left a massive, cone-shaped sonic boom in her wake as she soared toward the Hanging Gardens near the Fortress of Millennia.

...

Meanwhile, on the plains outside the Fortress of Millennia...

The sounds of clashing forces echoed across the battlefield—thunderous impacts, the crack of wooden stakes driving into the ground, the hissing of flames, and the whistling of arrows slicing through the air. It all formed a symphony, a testament to the savage brutality of human history's greatest warriors.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Black Lancer Vlad III skillfully gripped the reins of his horse, expertly swinging his silver lance to deflect the incoming arrows.

The immense power behind his strikes caused explosive booms akin to those of anti-material weapons. One might wonder if Vlad's horse could withstand the sheer intensity of the battle between these legendary heroes.

But fortunately, this armored steed was no ordinary horse.

It was a custom creation by Black Caster Avicebron, using his advanced golem craftsmanship to forge a horse of iron and bronze, specially designed for Vlad III.

"Wahahahaha—! Oppressor, perish!"

Clang!

Under siege by Black Saber Siegfried, Black Archer Chiron, Black Berserker Frankenstein, and former Red Berserker Spartacus, Karna stood his ground effortlessly, even finding time to counterattack with ease.

Vlad knew that Karna was the final trump card of the Red faction.

"Berserker, end the battle and retreat to the fortress for rest!"

"Archer, cease your attacks on Red Lancer..." Clang! Using an ascending wooden stake to block incoming arrows from the Hanging Gardens, Vlad continued, "Archer, Red Archer Atalanta is yours to deal with."

"Ahhhhh!"

Though Frankenstein wanted to assist her allies, she had realized that she could not harm Karna and had instead suffered numerous wounds at his hands. If not for Siegfried's timely interventions, she would likely have already exited the war.

Frustrated, Frankenstein let out a few low growls before turning and heading back toward the Fortress of Millennia.

Chiron, meanwhile, nodded at Vlad's command and shifted his focus to Atalanta, who was still launching arrows in support of her teammates from the Hanging Gardens.

With the others occupied, Vlad could now concentrate on Karna. Before, with Chiron and Frankenstein by his side, he had held back when activating his Noble Phantasm to avoid harming his allies.

But now, Siegfried's Armor of Fafnir would protect him from the stray stakes, and Spartacus was expendable, even if he was pierced.

In an instant, Vlad's eyes gleamed crimson.

"Come, sinner who has trespassed upon my land!"

"The time has come for your judgment!"

"Mercy and wrath shall manifest as burning stakes that will pierce you! Let your blood wet your throat in despair!"

"Kazikli Bey!"

Pierce! Pierce!

As Vlad's voice thundered across the battlefield, countless black stakes erupted from the ground, surging toward Karna.

Yet, the combatants remained composed. Spartacus merely laughed as he was impaled, and Siegfried's Armor of Fafnir allowed him to endure the few stakes that grazed him as he swung his massive sword down upon Karna.

Clang—crack!

Karna's Mana Burst flared, unleashing a torrent of flames that fueled his extraordinary speed. He deftly dodged Siegfried's strike while shattering the stakes rushing toward him with his golden spear.

But then, Karna realized something: destroying the stakes was futile.

"These stakes are not the real weapon... it's the concept attached to them."

The stakes themselves were not Vlad's true Noble Phantasm. Rather, it was the conceptual nature of the stakes—impalement—that made them deadly.

"If breaking them is pointless, then I'll just burn everything!"

Whirr—!

The night sky lit up, and Karna seemed to transform into a blazing sun, radiating light and heat in all directions.

With the blessing of his Master, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, Karna had been given full permission to unleash his power without restraint, save for his final Anti-God attack. Furthermore, the Hanging Gardens constantly supplied him with mana, allowing him to fight at full strength.

With no reason to hold back, Karna activated his Noble Phantasms and other abilities, pushing the limits of his power.

The flames expanded rapidly, forming a firestorm that covered hundreds of meters, forcing even Siegfried, with his dragon-blooded armor, to retreat from the intense heat.

When the stakes had all been incinerated, and the last of the firestorm dissipated, Karna emerged from the charred landscape, completely unscathed.

Creak... creak...

Karna's feet crunched on the cracked earth as he stood tall, his golden spear gleaming in the moonlight, and his gaze locked onto Vlad.

"Black Lancer, this is the unfinished duel from our battle at the mountain chapel."

"Then let us finish it!" Vlad bellowed, his silver lance pointing directly at Karna. His mana surged, and his aura intensified as he prepared for the final showdown.

"Good."

Karna lifted his head and squared his shoulders, his expression solemn as he readied himself for battle with the defender of Romania, Vlad III.

In that moment, Karna had steeled himself for the fight to the death. He had been told by Amakusa Shirou through magical communication that Black Rider had already captured his ally, Caster Shakespeare, and was speeding toward the battlefield at incredible speed.

The next instant, Boom!

Karna thrust his spear forward, breaking the sound barrier in an explosive burst of flames. The red-hot spearhead, moving at supersonic speed, was aimed straight at Vlad, who was charging toward him on horseback.

Boom—!

The fight escalated instantly into a deadly clash. Both combatants carried an unyielding will to win.

Red and gold energies clashed violently, intermingling, neither side willing to give an inch. The combined force of their mana created a dark red spherical shockwave that expanded outward.

Crack! Crack!

The ground split apart in every direction, fissures radiating outward like spiderwebs. Then, with a deafening crash, the earth caved in, sinking several meters.

Their figures blurred as they collided again and again, exchanging blow after blow at blinding speed.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

After several rounds, the ground beneath them had been torn to shreds, resembling a battlefield ravaged by artillery fire. The earth was scorched and pockmarked with deep craters.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Sparks flew from each strike, and Vlad could feel the tremendous power behind each of Karna's attacks. The weight of his opponent's blows strained his armored horse, its legs sinking into the ground under the pressure.

Realizing his steed would not last much longer, Vlad made a quick decision to abandon it.

"What?! You're discarding your mount?"

At the moment Vlad leapt from his horse, Karna's golden spear cleaved down from the sky, slicing the steed in two and leaving a crater over a meter wide where it struck.

Before Karna could regain his balance, Vlad was already counterattacking. His response was swift—Karna had no time to raise his spear, so he blocked with the shaft instead.

Boom!

The impact sent Karna flying backward, his feet skidding across the ground, the force carving a deep trench behind him.

Then, rather than closing in, Karna made a sudden leap backward, springing into the air, away from Vlad.

"The time has come..."

With Vlad's mount destroyed, Karna had decided to unleash his Noble Phantasm.

Mid-air, Karna's body ignited with an overwhelming surge of red mana, all of which was funneled into his spear, the brilliant flames burning hotter and brighter by the second.

"A Noble Phantasm with at least A+ rank..."

Even at a distance, Vlad could feel the oppressive aura of death emanating from Karna's spear. It was a chilling sensation.

"Brahmastra Kundala! (O' Brahma, Curse Me!)"