"Oh? Sounds like quite the extraordinary Noble Phantasm."
The King of Conquerors couldn't help but eye the treasures within the King of Heroes' treasury with genuine envy.
"One day, I'd truly like to plunder your vault and claim one for myself."
Though said in jest, the King of Heroes never tolerated such remarks lightly.
"Hmph, mongrel… If you think you can, by all means—try."
"So what exactly does this [Omniscient and Omnipotent Star] of yours do? Don't tell me it truly grants omniscience and omnipotence?"
The King of Conquerors looked skeptical.
The King of Knights, too, sat upright and focused, feeling the starlight shining down upon them. Could such a treasure truly claim to grant all knowledge and all power? She doubted it as well.
"Hmph, it seems your insight goes no further than that."
The King of Heroes raised his chin proudly.
"The concepts of the [Present] and the [Now] are but endlessly repeating cycles. The [Future] and the [Path Ahead] are merely infinite weavings added upon them. This treasure is the sublimation of the eternal King's boundless, everlasting spirit. It allows me to glimpse through all veiled truths—down to even those hidden behind countless layers. Such a power is rightfully called [Omniscient and Omnipotent]."
Neither the King of Knights nor the King of Conquerors bothered to argue. They had long since grown used to his arrogance. Yet the fact that the world's own Alaya recognized his power and manifested it as a Noble Phantasm spoke volumes.
Perhaps, truly, this world's collective consciousness favored certain beings more than others.
"In simpler terms, it's just a reconnaissance-type Noble Phantasm," the King of Conquerors said bluntly. "If it really could do everything, we wouldn't still be troubled by Saver."
"Actually, I have a proposal…"
From the nearby bushes, a small figure emerged—it was Waver, looking nervous as his eyes darted between the King of Heroes and the King of Knights.
Taking a few quick steps, he hurried to stand behind his Servant, the King of Conquerors.
"Since we can't break through that Servant directly, why not do what Kiritsugu Emiya did—target the enemy's Master instead?"
The moment those words left his mouth, the entire banquet of kings fell into a strange, heavy silence.
All three kings gripped their golden goblets tighter. Had they not been forged of divine craftsmanship, they might have shattered under the sheer pressure of the Heroic Spirits' power.
Waver, seemingly unaware of the tension, continued, "We already have intel on that Master. If we launch a surprise attack using our Noble Phantasms on that location, we're bound to—"
"Silence, Waver…"
A deep voice interrupted him.
Hearing that tone, Waver froze mid-sentence. The anger in that voice did not come from the King of Heroes, whose eyes were closed in apparent disinterest, nor from the King of Knights, who quietly stared into her golden goblet with a pensive look.
It came from his own Servant—the King of Conquerors, Iskandar.
"Rider… you—?"
Before he could finish, a rough, tree-root-like finger flicked his forehead. The sheer force sent Waver flying backward, tumbling several times before crashing into a nearby flowerbed.
Though not fatally wounded, the frail young magus felt as if every bone in his body had been rattled apart. The pain alone made him instantly realize—he had angered Rider.
"Ah, my apologies. You've all witnessed quite the farce…"
A farce? The King of Knights lowered her gaze, saying nothing.
Did she even have the right to criticize Waver's proposal?
For a king, making hard choices was inevitable. To lead, one must possess foresight beyond ordinary men—and with that vision came painful decisions.
Artoria, who demanded [Perfection] of herself, was no stranger to such burdens. Her eyes had always been fixed upon the future, and for that sake, she had made decisions that violated the very code of chivalry she upheld.
Her former Master, Kiritsugu Emiya, was the embodiment of ruthless pragmatism—one who would do anything for victory.
Indeed, she had often expressed her disapproval and opposition to his methods.
Yet in the end, when the situation demanded it, she had silently accepted similar tactics—allowing Kiritsugu to assassinate Tokiomi Tohsaka, paving the way for the King of Heroes' return.
As for the King of Heroes himself—he simply regarded battles between Heroic Spirits and mortals as beneath his notice.
To the King of Heroes, engaging with beings beneath his station—those who were not his subjects—was already a gesture of grace. To personally take action against an ordinary human, as Waver suggested, would be beneath him. Even if victory were assured, the only thing such an act would earn was ridicule.
Suddenly, the faces of all three kings changed dramatically. Their expressions grew tense as their eyes turned toward a specific direction.
At the same moment, several Masters rushed out from the castle.
Just now, within their collective consciousness, an immense tremor had erupted.
It was as if a massive stone had been dropped into a calm lake—ripples expanding outward from a single point in the center of Fuyuki City.
Ordinary people were like blind shrimp dwelling deep beneath the surface, confined to their narrow world, unable to perceive the disturbance above.
But Heroic Spirits and magi were different—they did not reside at the lake's bottom but at varying depths below the surface.
The closer one was to that surface, the stronger they could sense the vibration.
And if one could breach the surface, even momentarily rise above it, they would reach the same realm as Satsuki herself.
For that surface—was the boundary known as "Transcendence."
Of course, none of them had yet reached such a level. But that did not stop them from feeling the faint trace of that signal.
"What is that?"
Irisviel instinctively looked toward the direction of the disturbance. From that place, she could sense a familiar presence.
It was as if something there was calling to her—yearning desperately for her sacrifice to complete itself.
Just like in those recurring nightmares—visions of a future she both feared and could never escape.
"That direction… it's Ryuudou Temple, on Mount Enzou."
Though Kiritsugu Emiya's magical ability was not particularly strong, he was adept at leveraging technology. Using Maiya Hisau's surveillance network scattered throughout Fuyuki City, he quickly located the source.
"So, that's where Saver has chosen for the final battlefield."
The King of Heroes set down his golden goblet. His body shimmered with divine radiance as golden armor materialized over him, gleaming under the celestial light.
High above, from within that golden brilliance, a radiant vessel appeared—crafted from gold and emeralds, soaring through the skies. It was the divine craft known as Vimana, the King's airborne chariot.
The King of Knights also rose, a surge of wind swirling around her as mana erupted outward, weaving itself into her sacred armor.
Owing a favor to the King of Knights from long ago, Gilgamesh, in a rare display of concession, allowed her to accompany him aboard.
As for the King of Conquerors, he summoned his iconic Noble Phantasm—the Gordius Wheel—and mounted it with a firm, steady motion.
For the first time, the legendary conqueror chose not to bring his Master into battle.
"Proceed as planned," said Kiritsugu Emiya calmly, glancing toward Maiya Hisau beside him. Then, in a low voice, he spoke a few words into his communicator.
Within the shadows of the Church, Kirei Kotomine's tall figure slowly rose to his feet.
He bowed respectfully toward an unseen presence in the air. "The time has come."
In the dimness, a flash of bone-white mask flickered—and then vanished, consumed by a burst of ghostly blue flame.
Among the Three Kings, the swiftest in movement was naturally the King of Conquerors, Rider, who arrived riding his Noble Phantasm—the Gordius Wheel.
That treasure granted him the ability to traverse all of Fuyuki City at will.
However, when the King of Heroes revealed his own treasure—the radiant vessel Vimana—the King of Conquerors finally understood the saying: "Times have changed."
Fueled by mercury and powered by solar crystals that generated pure sunlight energy, Vimana could soar through the skies at supersonic speed, defying every known law of physics.
The King of Heroes didn't even need to steer it. Simply seated upon his throne, resting his chin on his hand, the mythical craft responded to his will as though it were alive.
Even with riding skill at least ranked B, the King of Knights couldn't help but marvel at this transcendent vehicle that had long surpassed the boundaries of its age.
Fuyuki City itself wasn't large. And since these were heroes of myth and legend, traveling atop mounts and relics born of fantasy, it was only natural that they would reach the battlefield at speeds that defied imagination.
The streets under the fading twilight were unusually quiet. Whether from fear of the recent strange events or because of a preemptively cast barrier, not a soul stirred. The heavens themselves had changed, and people stayed shut indoors, too afraid to venture out.
Along the way, not even a single car was seen. The asphalt roads, soaked in the chill of the winter night, shone pale beneath the streetlights.
The deserted city streets felt almost otherworldly—and under the moonlight, Fuyuki truly had become a realm beyond reality.
If they survived the night, none of the Three Kings would ever forget this moment.
Their hearts were filled with a calm yet fierce sense of exhilaration—a spiritual stillness that came from shedding all illusions of the material world, embracing the truth of existence in its entirety, and standing in awe before it.
There was no need to seek answers to the world's mysteries or contradictions. Nor was there room for emotion toward their fates or futures. Acceptance alone was enough.
Ryuudou Temple stood atop Mount Enzou, the sacred mountain of Fuyuki City.
It was the place where the city's strongest ley lines converged—and the chosen site for the Holy Grail's awakening by the Three Founding Families.
Then, the pupils of all three kings simultaneously contracted.
"Stay alert, Rider. Archer."
At Saber's warning, the King of Conquerors, guiding his Gordius Wheel, pressed his lips into a grim, determined line.
That figure—one they had encountered only a handful of times—was already seared deeply into their memories.
Saver. Māra.
In that ancient temple, the only light came from the moon above. Yet when its rays touched her, the Three Kings beheld something far beyond their understanding.
The figure before them seemed to grow exalted—majestic. It was as though all of heaven and earth stood by her side, rejoicing in her presence.
Even the moonlight itself appeared false—a mere imitation—for the true radiance of the night belonged to the divine demon before them.
She sat silently in the center of Ryuudou Temple's courtyard. Her long black hair shimmered like liquid silk under the pale light. As though she had foreseen their arrival, she raised her gaze to meet theirs the very moment they laid eyes upon her.
Though separated by hundreds of meters, the cold, commanding pressure emanating from those golden eyes made all three kings tremble inwardly.
Hovering in the air, the King of Conquerors suppressed his fear through sheer willpower, but his mount could not.
When the Gordius Wheel reached the skies above the temple, no matter how hard he urged them, the divine bulls refused to descend.
"Are you afraid?"
The King of Conquerors placed his rough, bark-like hand upon the backs of his divine bulls, gently stroking them to calm their trembling forms.
He could feel their fear—these divine beasts were acutely sensitive to Māra's overwhelming might.
They turned their great eyes toward him, lowing softly, "Moo~", tears glimmering in their eyes.
In that moment, he understood—their fear was not for themselves, but for him. Even they could sense that the foe below was one that could not be defeated.
This was to be a battle where death was almost certain.
Beside him, Saber and Archer also took notice of Rider's situation.
"Rider, if your mount is troubled, you may board with us," said Saber calmly.
Though the King of Knights did not agree with the Conqueror King's domineering ideology, she could not help but admire the sense of unity between ruler and subject embodied within his Noble Phantasm—and the overwhelming charisma he exuded as a leader.
Thus, she held a quiet respect for him.
As for Archer, this was not the time for him to flaunt his prideful royal bearing. No matter how arrogant or confident he was, even he understood one simple truth—he could not defeat the foe below on his own.
The King of Conquerors merely chuckled at Saber's offer.
"In all my life, I have held one belief above all others: the stronger the enemy, the greater the glory in victory. To meet such a worthy opponent in this lifetime—this is the greatest fortune of a conqueror."
His booming voice split the heavens, and his burning battle spirit set the earth ablaze.
Roused by their master's words, the divine bulls of the Gordius Wheel snorted like enraged beasts, their fear replaced by defiance.
The clouds twisted into a spiraling storm, thunder roaring through the skies. Lightning radiated from the bulls' hooves as they charged downward like a thunderclap.
Below, Satsuki watched their descent. Her face remained expressionless, yet inwardly she couldn't help but admire the indomitable valor of her opponents.
The courage of these heroes who transcended time—their brilliance would never fade, no matter how many ages passed.
Rumble… The deafening crash of impact shattered the silence as the kings' divine mounts tore through the atmosphere, descending upon the decayed temple grounds of Ryūdō with earth-shaking force.
When the dust cleared under the chill of the night wind, three kings stood before Satsuki.
To her left, the King of Heroes stood tall, one hand on his hip, his body radiating golden light that rivaled the stars themselves. The crimson gleam in his eyes no longer held scorn or arrogance—only unwavering seriousness and solemn resolve.
To her right, the King of Conquerors had summoned his faithful steed, Bucephalus. Mounted proudly atop the divine horse, Rider's gaze shone with admiration, as if beholding the most precious treasure in existence.
And between them stood, without question, the King of Knights.
Her very presence seemed to ignite the air around her. The emerald brilliance in her eyes embodied the pinnacle of chivalry itself. With both hands resting upon her sword planted in the earth, her aura surged like that of the red dragon reborn—commanding heaven and earth.
Through her Tenseigan, Satsuki could glimpse the scene hidden behind those eyes.
A solitary figure stood upon a lonely peak, her tattered cloak fluttering in the wind. She brushed the dust from her scarred armor, lifted her blood-stained face, and smiled faintly toward the distant horizon.
Honor. Courtesy. Humility. Perseverance. Loyalty. Pride. Faith.
Even when faced with despair, they chose to stand. Even when faced with inevitable fate, they chose to fight.
This was what it meant to be a hero of ages past—this was myth itself—the pride of humanity as it bid farewell to the age of gods.
"Splendid… truly splendid!"
Even Satsuki could not suppress her admiration. This was not about strength, but about witnessing the radiance that shone purely from the soul.
"With such grace and valor, even I, the Demon Buddha, cannot help but offer my praise. You are indeed worthy of the name 'Heroic Spirit'... But the deeds of kings must be proven through victory."
Slowly, Satsuki rose to her feet. The lotus throne beneath her vanished into nothingness as she hovered effortlessly in the air. A crushing, mountain-devouring aura erupted from her being, overwhelming the heavens themselves.
"So then, kings—show me your splendor in this final battle."
As her voice fell, storm clouds gathered. A pair of colossal golden eyes manifested in the sky above—it was one of Satsuki's ultimate techniques.
Judgment of the Ten Kings: Veil of Light and Shadow!
Without hesitation or prelude, Satsuki unleashed her ultimate attack upon their arrival.
Rider's lips curved into a fierce grin as he raised his sword high.
"Saver, the same move will not work twice!"
"Rally, my comrades! Tonight, our valor shall become legend!"
The hot desert wind answered his call, sweeping through the temple grounds and banishing the lingering chill.
From across the bounds of time and space, the wills of the Heroic Spirits who once shared his dream began to converge—their resolve, their ambition, their eternal yearning gathered beneath the Celtic longsword.
Their fighting spirit erupted outward, their combined mana surging until it flooded the world itself, forming a grand illusion of countless warriors—a dream realm of a thousand conquerors reborn.