---o---
[On the light screen, everyone present was watching the black knight's every move with suspicious and wary eyes. But there was one exception: Archer.
His crimson eyes held no vigilance or worry, only pure killing intent as he looked down upon the Berserker below.
"You cur... how dare a mongrel from the shadows ambush me!!!"
Gilgamesh gritted his teeth, his murderous gaze fixed on the attacker.
The black knight was not to be outdone, staring back at the golden Servant perched on the streetlamp with a bone-chilling gaze. This infuriated the King of Heroes. Elysia was one thing; at least she was a rational being. But now, a mere mad dog that could only bark and bite dared to look directly at him?
To him, people of lowly status possessed equally lowly and filthy gazes. For a person of noble birth, to be looked upon with such eyes was an unbearable humiliation. To Gilgamesh, this insolent Berserker was now even more unforgivable than the Rider who called himself a king.
Enraged, Gilgamesh instantly summoned dozens more Noble Phantasms, his eyes blazing with infinite fury and murderous intent as he looked at Berserker. "To dare bare your fangs at your king, and even raise a hand against him with such disrespect! How bold of you, mad dog! Your death shall appease my wrath!"
With this cold declaration, spears and swords flew through the air together, just as they had against Elysia moments before.
To so recklessly hurl such precious Noble Phantasms as if they were pebbles, one had to admit, Gilgamesh was truly extravagant.
The destructive power of this volley was still immense. The road surface was blown apart as if by a bomb, asphalt turning to dust that flew everywhere, obscuring all vision.
However, a scene that defied belief occurred. For some unknown reason, the target of the attack, Berserker, showed no sign of falling.
Everyone was stunned. The Servants present knew clearly that to face a sky full of flying Noble Phantasms single-handedly was almost impossible without a suitable defensive Noble Phantasm. Yet, what happened next was beyond anyone's expectations.
Berserker first extended his left hand to catch the first incoming spear. Then, with a sword in his right, he masterfully wielded both weapons, deflecting the subsequent storm of Noble Phantasms one by one.
Berserker's combat technique was not just precise; it was magnificent. Although they were treasures stolen from Gilgamesh's hands, Berserker used them without a hint of awkwardness. The weapons moved as if they were extensions of his own arms. The way he wielded them so freely, it looked as if he were commanding cherished treasures he had used for years.
A mysterious Heroic Spirit, a powerful Noble Phantasm... Just as Irisviel had thought, this Holy Grail War was far surpassing any of the previous ones...
"This Berserker... possesses an unbelievably exquisite martial skill." Even in a state of madness, this Berserker's prowess was not to be underestimated.
Seeing him defend in a manner similar to Elysia's, the King of Conquerors and Diarmuid came to the same conclusion in an instant.
In life, this man was undoubtedly a knight renowned for his martial arts. To be able to achieve this level of skill even after losing his reason was truly rare in the history of knights.
In the vacuum-like silence, amidst the swirling dust, only Berserker stood tall. Everything else—the warehouse, the street, all the surrounding buildings—had collapsed. The black knight held a battle-ax in his right hand and a single-edged scimitar in his left. The remaining Noble Phantasms were either scattered at his feet or embedded in the surrounding rubble. Not a single one had pierced his black armor.
Berserker casually raised the two weapons remaining in his hands and—with no preparatory motion—hurled them at Gilgamesh.
Perhaps he had no clear target, or perhaps he never intended to hit him, but the ax and scimitar struck Gilgamesh's perch—the lamppost! The scimitar embedded itself in the center of the pole, while the ax struck near the top. The iron pole shattered like butter.
The lamp, split into three pieces, crashed to the ground. Gilgamesh, however, landed safely on his feet. He had leaped clear just before the pole disintegrated, landing on the ground as if nothing had happened.
"Mad dog... You actually forced me, who is meant to be revered from above, to stand on the same earth as you!"
No, Gilgamesh's nonchalance was merely an illusion to outsiders.
At this point in the battle, Gilgamesh's anger had reached its absolute limit. The deep furrows on his brow twisted his handsome face into a mask of ferocity.
"Your disrespect is enough to warrant your death a thousand, ten thousand times over! You mongrel, I will obliterate you until not even dust remains!"
Gilgamesh was so enraged that his eyes now burned like crimson lotuses. He roared at Berserker as another host of weapons materialized around him, twisting the very space they occupied...
At this moment, Gilgamesh intended to get just a little bit serious. Otherwise, if this battle continued, any random piece of trash that crawled out of the woodwork would think they could challenge him.
This king, whether facing Elysia before or fighting Berserker now, had yet to use his full strength. His pride prevented him from going all out, no matter the opponent.]
---o---
Conan Edogawa: "What? He's still not using his full power after all that? Is there something wrong with this Hero King's head?"
Eriri Spencer Sawamura: "I'm starting to think he's less of a Hero King and more of a chuunibyou."
Utaha Kasumigaoka: "Forcing him to get serious is probably more painful for him than killing him."
L: "A king of absolute pride. That pride will surely be his downfall."
Kuroneko: "Even so... I still don't get what kind of monster this Berserker is to be able to fight this... uh, Chuuni King to a standstill."
Otto Apocalypse: "Regarding that point, I believe... our Miss Artoria ought to know the answer."
King Arthur: "...Did you notice the change in my expression? Your powers of observation are astonishing."
Otto Apocalypse: "Hehe, you flatter me. It was merely that your emotions slipped out of your control when you saw him confronting the King of Heroes."
King Arthur: "...Although it is unbelievable... if I am not mistaken, he is the Knight of the Lake—Lancelot."
Yes, there was no mistake. The ability to claim another's Noble Phantasm as his own—that was his skill, [Knight of Owner]. The ability to hide his True Name must be one of his other Noble Phantasms—[For Someone's Glory]. On top of that, there was his consummately refined martial skill, and those eyes that felt vaguely familiar.
It couldn't be wrong. The Knight of the Lake, Lancelot... Why? Why had he fallen into such a state?