Chapter 353: The Star That Weaves All Of Creation
Did you ever have that chuunibyou thought when you were little—
If I just run fast enough, I can pass through the rain without a single drop touching me.
Maybe it's hard to imagine that in a heavy downpour, but when it's just a gentle drizzle, it's impossible not to think about it.
Carrying an umbrella is such a hassle—just dash through and be done with it.
For kids with big imaginations, that kind of fantasy is practically standard equipment.
And now, whether it's a fantasy or not, Bazett absolutely has to make it real.
Because if she can't—
She dies.
The "rain" she's facing this time is a downpour of Noble Phantasms, the kind of sword-rain comparable to Excalibur itself.
Sure, most Noble Phantasms aren't on the level of the Sword of Promised Victory—but that doesn't make them harmless.
Each weapon represents the legend of an Heroic Spirit, the very foundation of their tale, the crystallization of human imagination.
Who knows what kinds of properties these countless weapons have?
Chloe is certain that among them are plenty with special effects—things like Gáe Dearg or Gáe Bolg.
Against that kind of attack, Illya's pure physical barrier is about as effective as tissue paper.
When your enemy uses a Noble Phantasm, your best counter is another Noble Phantasm!
"Rho Aias!"
Facing the barrage from the blackened Heroic Spirit, Chloe projected the sakura-petal shield at top speed.
It didn't help. At all.
There were simply too many Noble Phantasms.
Crack, crack!
The first wave hadn't even finished before the sakura barrier was already webbed with fractures.
"No good! The shield's gonna break!"
Chloe's brain instantly reached the only correct conclusion.
"Miyu! Run! I can't hold it!"
She didn't even have to say it.
The moment Miyu saw Rho Aias starting to fail, she had already begun activating her Dimensional Transfer, preparing to pull everyone out of the Mirror World.
Compared to the retreating main cast, the one charging in like a madwoman was—
Bazett.
Completely alone, and somehow the fiercest of them all, she ran straight into the rain of Noble Phantasms.
Of course she knew Miyu was getting ready to evacuate.
That knowledge only made her resolve firmer.
Once Illya and the others escaped, Bazett would have only one option left—
Defeat the monster in front of her.
Corner herself, push beyond her limits, and overcome the enemy—
That was Bazett's creed.
"Come then—!"
Facing the dense storm of weapons, she clenched her fists, and three shimmering Fragarach blades appeared around them, shining as they thrust into the oncoming black tide.
"This sense of pressure is insane—how did you even come up with this shot?"
Shirou leaned over the back of the sofa, pointing at the screen and questioning Shinji.
On the screen, the black Noble Phantasms clustered together like a surging tide of darkness.
And opposing that darkness—were the three glowing Fragarach blades in Bazett's hands.
So small, almost negligible in the face of the endless onslaught.
Yet because they emitted their own light, their smallness only made them shine even brighter.
The contrast between light and dark burned itself into the viewer's eyes.
This wasn't the traditional way of filming Gilgamesh's attacks—these black weapons didn't come from the King's treasury at all, but were slime constructs Shinji made himself.
Even the real Gilgamesh couldn't pack his Noble Phantasms that tightly.
And even if he could, the weapons would scratch each other from the contact.
For someone like him, who treasured every one of his treasures, that would be a fate worse than death.
Don't even try saying "But Gil doesn't take care of his toys anyway."
It's like how you might not mind scuffing your own figurine a little—but the moment some brat reaches out to touch it, even lightly—your heart stops.
Filming this scene with slimes was anything but easy.
Every Noble Phantasm that appeared on-screen had to be individually modeled by the magi on the crew—including Shinji.
The workload was on par with that of overworked programmers.
So when Shirou praised Shinji, it wasn't just admiration.
It carried a faint complaint, a flashback to the days when they were all being worked like dogs on set.
But although shooting had been exhausting, the final footage was stunning.
Shirou even found himself trying to spot the weapons he'd personally crafted in the swirling mass of projected armaments.
Unfortunately for him, that wish would never come true.
The clash between light and darkness lasted far too briefly.
BOOM!!
With a thunderous explosion, three rays of light tore through the darkness, carving a path of survival for their wielder.
"AAAAAAHHHH!!"
The black Heroic Spirit let out a roar of pure fury.
And through that howl of unwilling rage, the man-dressed-as-a-woman warrior was already upon him, having broken through every obstacle he'd created.
"This ends—now!"
Bazett's fists flared like burning flames—the unmistakable sign of her magic igniting.
"This is my last—my only chance!"
She raised her fist, aiming straight for the black Heroic Spirit's heart.
"Finish him!!"
But she had underestimated her foe.
A long spear materialized right in front of her face.
She didn't need to think.
Before she could drive her fist through the enemy's chest, this spear would pierce through her skull.
"So close… just one step short…"
Eyes wide, Bazett stared straight into the chilling gleam of the spear tip.
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"Deja vu, huh?"
Shibamatsu commented. "Same thing happened when Illya fought Bazett for the first time—right before the finishing blow, she was just a hair away."
"Shinji has exhausted his bag of tricks."
Fujita snorted. "The fighting style may differ, but the structure of the battle is exactly the same."
"First, have the ally character unload their biggest attacks on the enemy to show how overwhelmingly strong the opponent is."
"Then, let the main attacker—shielded by the team—launch a surprise assault on the boss."
"And when the attacker is just about to land the decisive hit, have them be stopped at the very last moment. That's when some side character, basically an NPC until that point, fires off a clutch assist and turns the tide."
"Honestly, if Shinji's two movies next year use this exact same pattern, I'm dropping the franchise."
"I doubt it'll come to that…"
Shibamatsu grimaced. "Didn't the final battle with Gilgamesh follow a totally different structure?"
Fujita shook his head.
"You mean the part where the protagonist gets their final form and finishes the fight with one big blast? Sure, that's different from before, but that's just the standard tokusatsu season-finale script."
"Uh…"
Shibamatsu suddenly had no idea how to respond.
If Shinji had heard Fujita just now, he absolutely would've clapped the chubby guy on the back and praised him for not being only a conspiracy-theory gremlin.
Because Fujita had just perfectly summarized Hiroyama's "three sacred maneuvers" for battle writing:
A last-second teamwork assist, a crisis-triggered new form for the protagonist, and a twist to artificially maintain suspense.
Those three tricks were the entire core of Hiroyama's fight choreography.
And that was exactly why the deeper into Magical Illya you went, the harder it became to watch—every battle played out almost the same way.
If Hiroyama hadn't suddenly thrown out the huge twist of "Illya is going to become a Goddess of the Circle," the series probably would've been lost among the sea of Type-Moon works.
Shinji had never noticed these things before. But during the production of Magical Illya this time, he felt vividly how drained Hiroyama was when it came to writing serious story content.
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On-screen, just as Bazett was falling into despair at the sudden appearance of the spear, an arrow shot past her shoulder from behind and struck the only obstacle standing between her and the black Heroic Spirit.
The two weapons had clashed so close to her face that the flying metal shards nicked Bazett's forehead.
"What—?"
Her question was answered by Chloe's irritated voice:
"You really know how to cause trouble, don't you?"
Her words were sharp, but her actions—swiftly helping—were anything but.
Classic tsundere loli.
And their assistance didn't end there.
Afraid the Heroic Spirit would strike Bazett again, Illya threw up a magical barrier that locked down the enemy's limbs.
"Bazett-neesan, we're counting on you!!"
Illya shouted desperately.
At this point, winning the tournament meant nothing. If they couldn't defeat this foe, Illya had the chilling certainty they would all die here.
"…Never thought I'd be saved by two little girls."
Bazett let out a faint smile.
So this is what having allies feels like.
Not bad at all.
"Since they entrusted this to me—I can't betray their expectations! Let us savor the sweet wine of victory together!"
As a battle maniac, Bazett knew one thing very well:
To kill someone, you don't need flashy techniques.
All you need is something quick, deep, and absolutely certain—
"Hardening—Enhancement—Acceleration—Multiply!!"
Rip the heart out!!
Her rune-glowing gauntlet pierced straight through the black Heroic Spirit's chest.
"We did it!!"
Illya cheered in excitement, while Chloe felt a chill down her spine watching Bazett literally punch through someone's heart.
If she hadn't held the line earlier… Would she have been the one getting a fist through her chest?
"Got it!"
Bazett finally saw the true form of the card.
The eighth Class Card was—
Archer.
But before she could question why there were two Archer cards, she felt a surge of force pushing her hand away.
Even as she tried to keep her grip, the ocean-like flow of mana shoved her back.
"No way… The card's already been extracted. How is it still moving?"
Her left hand—still tingling from holding the card—trembled nonstop.
She was certain her muscles had cramped.
But that was the least of their worries.
Something far more urgent was happening.
Bazett's finishing blow had completely enraged their enemy.
The black king had decided it was time to give these insolent fools a memory they'd never forget.
He didn't sprinkle sand everywhere like a certain meat-processing-plant director from the Land of Light.
His preference was turning his enemies into sand.
"…he…chi…ku…"
Illya and the others definitely heard him speak.
But they had no time to decipher his words.
Because the black Heroic Spirit drew a weapon—a bizarre sword shaped like a massive drill.
Illya and the others had never seen such a thing. But the viewers outside the screen recognized it instantly.
The sword that opened the heavens, split the world—
Ea, the Sword of Rupture.
But its name no longer mattered to the girls.
Because what happened next awakened a primal terror deep in their hearts.
The air screamed.
The ground roared.
A pressure wave of bloated mana surged outward, ready to obliterate everything.
This attack wasn't aimed at anyone in particular.
Because the target of Ea was not a person.
Its blade tore through space itself.
And before everyone's eyes—
The world collapsed.
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