The shadows of Einzbern Castle were gradually left behind, yet the cool night breeze of Fuyuki City seemed unable to dispel the thick, inseparable aura of darkness around Kanjuro. Jeanne d'Arc held the Holy Sword and followed half a step behind him in silence, her cold gaze falling on his back, which appeared composed but was actually a swirling vortex of undercurrents.
"To let them go so easily... that's not like your usual style of complete extermination." Jeanne d'Arc's voice broke the silence, carrying a hint of imperceptible inquiry. She had witnessed too much of Kanjuro's cruelty; today's "deterrence" rather than "extermination" indeed seemed unusual.
Kanjuro didn't look back; he only let out a soft sigh that held no regret, only cold calculation. "Those three, especially when they are allied, aren't so easy to finish off in one go. A forced confrontation, even if I won, would inevitably cost a price I'm unwilling to pay." He didn't stop, his voice low and clear. "They need to be dismantled one by one, broken from within. The seeds of fear have been sown, and the soil of suspicion is already fertile. Next... I only need to wait for the right moment for them to fall apart on their own."
"So, even you have... cautious moments?" Jeanne d'Arc's tone carried a faint, almost inaudible mockery, and perhaps a subtle confirmation she hadn't even noticed herself—that Kanjuro wasn't entirely without restraint.
Kanjuro scoffed and rolled his eyes, his tone returning to his usual playfulness. "Otherwise, why do you think I'd even set aside the life and death of my lost 'precious' daughter Rin and make a special trip to add some spice to this 'Banquet of Kings'? Sufficient deterrence is the only way to buy me more... precious time."
His eyes gradually grew deep as his mind raced with calculations. The power systems he currently controlled, enough to drive ordinary Magicians and even Servants to despair, surfaced clearly in his mind:
Gospel of John: Manipulating the mind, creating puppets invisibly.
Gospel of Matthew: Manifesting magic, transforming into all things at will, combining offense and defense.
gospel of luke: Interfering with time, stagnating moments, mastering the rhythm of the battlefield.
Gospel of Mark: The source of Black Magic, endless knowledge, and creative potential.
Eye of Truth: Piercing through essence, twisting personalities, and exchanging for the grace of the Old Gods.
Demon-Breaking Eye: Ignoring bounded fields and penetrating all restrictions.
Thousand Faces Garment: Possession and soul-stealing, perfect disguise, and infiltration.
Any one of these powers could be called terrifying. However, Kanjuro's brow furrowed slightly. It wasn't enough... far from enough! He clearly realized that facing Saber's holy light, which remained brilliant even in filth; facing the king of conquerors' crushing, majestic magic; and facing the king of heroes' nearly infinite treasury of Noble Phantasms—especially when these three might truly work together—his existing abilities, while enough to maneuver, could hardly guarantee he would emerge unscathed in a direct confrontation. Specifically, abilities like mind control and possession would have their effects and durations greatly reduced against beings with steadfast wills or immense magic.
"I must obtain more... more fundamental power..." he murmured to himself. The Eye of Truth was telling him that only by continuously creating chaos and twisting fate could he exchange for deeper authorities from those unnameable existences.
Just as his thoughts were churning and his thirst for power reached its peak—
Everything around him seemed to freeze instantly.
It wasn't the time stop of the gospel of luke, but a stranger, more detached state. The wind stopped flowing, the distant city's clamor came to an abrupt halt, and even the moonlight seemed frozen. In the air, a cold scent of plum blossoms inexplicably drifted, completely out of place with the night view of this modern city.
In this dead silent space where even colors seemed to have faded, a slender figure stepped onto invisible stairs and walked gracefully out of the void.
She was a woman whose beauty could not be described in words.
Her skin was whiter than snow, her features peerless, carrying a soul-snatching demonic charm.
She had long hair as dark as the night, and a pair of curved, pitch-black goat horns, symbolizing her non-human status, grew quietly from her hair.
Most pulse-pounding of all, she wore nothing at all. Her perfect body was revealed unreservedly to the air, every curve seemingly containing the truths of the universe and an ultimate attraction.
However, an invisible barrier that distorted light shrouded her. Everything around them was a static existence; time would forever remain still before Chiyo and Kanjuro.
Demon Sister—Chiyo.
One of the myriad incarnations of Nyarlathotep, a messenger who joyfully observed all the madness and chaos in the world.
She stepped barefoot onto the frozen air, each step rippling invisibly. With a smile that could captivate all living beings, she arrived before Kanjuro.
Her voice was lazy and sweet, echoing directly in the depths of Kanjuro's soul:
"My dear brother Kanjuro... it seems you've encountered a little 'difficulty'?"
Her eyes sparkled with the light of someone seeing an interesting toy.
"Really, every time I see you distressed over power, it makes me... unable to resist wanting to help you."
"This time, I've brought you another little 'gift'... are you ready to receive it? This is your reward for the twisted murder of Kariya Matou!"
Her smile grew deeper, as if she could already see the further despair and chaos this "gift" would bring. And Kanjuro, looking at this "sister" who represented the endless abyss, showed no fear in his eyes; instead, a hotter, more greedy fire ignited within them.
A new Authority was about to descend. In this space-time frozen by Chiyo's great power, Kanjuro did not hesitate. He reached out and, in a manner almost blasphemous yet strangely intimate, pulled this flawless body—symbolizing chaos and temptation—into his arms. Chiyo did not resist; instead, she let out a lazy, satisfied moan and nestled into his embrace, her goat horns gently brushing against his jaw with a cold touch.
"The ones you are facing are three of the most top-tier kings in human history..." Chiyo's voice was like the sweetest poison, whispering in his ear. "However, I have great confidence in you, my dear brother."
She raised her slender, jade-like hand, her fingers entwining in Kanjuro's black hair, while her crimson eyes swirled with phantasms of countless stars being destroyed and reborn.
"So, the little gift I'm giving you this time is a power... sufficient to rival, or even surpass, those so-called'strongest' Noble Phantasms."
A power to rival or even surpass the strongest Noble Phantasms?
Kanjuro's breath hitched. Even he was shocked by this description. The dark magic within him surged uncontrollably, as if cheering, as if craving.
Chiyo said no more. She tilted up that world-toppling face and pressed her soft, cold lips against the corner of Kanjuro's mouth.
This kiss was not one of desire, but the granting of Authority!
"Boom—!!!"
In an instant, Kanjuro felt his brain—no, his entire soul—be overwhelmed by infinite points of dark light! It wasn't pain, but a forced infusion of vast, boundless knowledge and power that transcended understanding! The already dense Black Magic aura around him erupted like a tsunami, expanding uncontrollably. One after another, massive, complex seal runes constructed from pure dark magic emerged out of thin air, rotating and combining around him like living things, forming a dark domain that shrouded all directions!
At the center of this domain, Kanjuro's eyes were tightly shut, his body trembling slightly as his consciousness was dragged into an unprecedented inner world.
It was an infinite dark void.
And within the void, there floated... swords!
Countless swords!
They were not real weapons, but "shadow prototypes" formed from the purest concept of "weaponry," reinterpreted, forged, and twisted by the magic of the dark bible!
He saw the dark reflection of the sword of promised victory (Excalibur), its golden light swallowed, leaving only an absolute sharpness that could sever hope;
He saw the chaotic copy of enkidu (Ea), simulating the chaotic storm from the dawn of creation, yet carrying an aura of silence and extinction that would end everything;
He saw the pitch-black lightning surrounding the king of conquerors' gordius wheel;
He saw countless projections of divine weapons, demonic artifacts, and even forbidden existences—some he recognized, others he did not—from various eras and legends, all containing terrifying power!
They floated quietly in the dark void, each emitting an ominous and powerful vibration, as if with a single thought, he could instantly manifest these "shadow concepts" into reality as sharp blades in his hand!
This was no longer a simple manifestation of magic (Gospel of Matthew); this was... creating and dominating an ultimate armory of his own, encompassing the "dark side" of thousands of weapons in the world!
[eternal night treasury (Armament of Eternal Night)]
—This was the terrifying Authority bestowed upon him by the Demon Sister Chiyo this time, comparable to, and in some aspects even surpassing, the king of heroes' "Gate of Babylon (Gate of Babylon)"! A dark bible version of Unlimited Blade Works belonging solely to Kanjuro!
When Kanjuro suddenly opened his eyes, the massive dark seal and the phenomena around him instantly contracted, as if they had never appeared. Frozen time resumed its flow, the wind rose again, and the moonlight remained as before.
Jeanne d'Arc still stood half a step behind him, as if the scene that had just overturned common sense was merely an illusion. She only frowned slightly, sensing that the aura on Kanjuro had become deeper and more unfathomable, like an abyss hiding ten thousand blades.
Chiyo's figure had already vanished, leaving only a faint, lingering scent of plum blossoms and her final whisper echoing in Kanjuro's soul, filled with endless pleasure and anticipation:
"Use it well, my cute little brother... Let those ants who call themselves 'Kings' tremble in complete despair under your 'Eternal Night' army... Heehee..."
Kanjuro stood in place, slowly raising his hand, feeling the surging new power within him that seemed capable of summoning a flood of destruction at any moment. The corners of his mouth couldn't help but stretch into a mad and ferocious arc.
In Jeanne d'Arc's ice-like eyes, a clearly visible and difficult-to-hide shock appeared for the first time. She hadn't seen Chiyo, nor had she fully perceived the process of the Authority being granted, but as a Servant with a deep connection to Kanjuro, she keenly sensed that in that very moment, Kanjuro's essence had undergone a world-shaking, heart-palpitating change.
·· 0 Flowers 0 --- The aura around him became more restrained yet deeper, as if an undercurrent capable of swallowing everything was brewing beneath a calm sea. That feeling was like a demon sword that was already incredibly sharp, now cast into the core of the abyss to be reforged, tempered with an edge sharp enough to sever the rules themselves.
"Just now... what happened?" Jeanne d'Arc's voice carried a hint of gravity she hadn't noticed herself. She looked around; the air seemed to hold a lingering resonance that made her Holy Sword (though fallen) instinctively feel repulsion and a shiver—it was a power that transcended her understanding, a weave of pure "creation" and "ending."
Kanjuro slowly turned his head and looked at Jeanne d'Arc. His gaze was no longer playful or cruel as before, but a god-like calm and gentleness that came after obtaining supreme power. Yet beneath this gentleness was an absolute confidence more chilling than ever.
He didn't answer Jeanne d'Arc's question, but simply—as if showing a fine piece of art to his most intimate partner—raised his right arm.
In the next moment, Jeanne d'Arc's pupils suddenly constricted!
On Kanjuro's arm, dark magic surged and took shape like a living creature! There were no complex magic circles, no lengthy incantations; at the very moment his will drove it, a demon sword, entirely black and identical in form to Saber's sword of promised victory (Excalibur) but wrapped in ominous shadows and ripples of destruction, was easily held in his hand!
That was no simple imitation through the Gospel of Matthew. What it contained was the concept of the "sword of promised victory" itself, originating from the eternal night treasury and completely eroded and reconstructed by the dark bible! It was the dark holy sword that stood in stark contrast to its radiant prototype, symbolizing the "End of Vows and Despair"!
...Kanjuro didn't even make a slashing motion; he just casually gave the dark holy sword in his hand a light swing forward.
"Whir—!"
A faint hum sounded, as if space itself was being sliced open.
Then, destruction descended!
An invisible, light-distorting pitch-black sword qi, like ripples spreading from a pebble thrown into a calm lake, expanded silently yet as fast as lightning in all directions with Kanjuro at the center!
There was no deafening explosion, no soaring flames.
There was only... annihilation.
Wherever the sword qi passed—whether it was ancient trees that several people couldn't encircle, jagged rocks, undulating mounds, or man-made roads and fences—all matter decomposed and dissipated without a sound the moment it touched those black ripples, turning into basic particles and returning to nothingness.
Within a one-kilometer radius, the originally lush forest and the landscape dotted within it were completely leveled by this single swing! Not destroyed, but "erased" from the level of existence, leaving behind a massive, smooth-as-a-mirror, terrifying circular depression, as if a god had scooped out a piece with a spoon!
Jeanne d'Arc's hand holding her sword tightened instantly, her knuckles turning white from excessive force. Even with her mind, which had experienced countless fires of war, she was shocked by this power that changed the world with such casual ease. This had already surpassed the scope of a Noble Phantasm; this was... Authority! A crude tampering with the rules of the world itself!
Inside the courtyard of Einzbern Castle.
The wreckage of the broken banquet had not yet been cleared. Saber was being supported by Irisviel, trying to calm the disorder caused by the conflict of light and darkness within her body. Gilgamesh and Iskandar were also immersed in the pressure Kanjuro had brought and their own thoughts.
Suddenly—
The three of them looked up almost simultaneously, staring in horror toward a certain direction outside the castle! It was the direction Kanjuro had left!
An indescribable, extreme dark magic fluctuation that seemed capable of swallowing all light swept over them like a tsunami! Even from a great distance, the sense of "ending" and "void" contained in that fluctuation made their souls tremble!
Immediately after, they saw the scene they would never forget:
In the distance, as far as the eye could see, large patches of forest and terrain vanished before their eyes, as if swallowed by an invisible giant mouth! Only a shocking, massive circular blank area remained, like a scar on the earth!
"This... this is...?!" Iskandar, the king who had conquered countless territories, was speechless at this moment, his stalwart body stiffening slightly from shock.
On Gilgamesh's face, which always carried arrogance and laziness, a look of shock bordering on loss of composure appeared for the first time, his golden pupils shrinking to the size of pinheads: "That mongrel... what did he do?! This power...?!"
And Saber's reaction was the most intense!
"Whir—!"
The sword of promised victory (Excalibur) in her hand seemed to receive some kind of fatal provocation and resonance, vibrating violently out of control and emitting a sword's cry that sounded like both anger and a wail! The golden blade's light flashed wildly, its holy radiance clashing fiercely with the dark power coming from afar, making her almost unable to hold the hilt!
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