I rotated my wrist in measured increments—thirty degrees counter-clockwise, pause, forty-five back. Each twist was calculated for optimal integration.
Beside me, Artoria poured her mana into [Avalon] without pause. Her sheath drank it like a desert drinks rain, draining her and straining my barely functional magic circuits.
Fae runes lit up across its spine in succession. Light—bright and gold—began to radiate from it with escalating intensity, illuminating the room in a warm glow.
My stirring hand did not pause, even as Artoria strode back up to me, presenting her sheath with steady arms.
"Do you not want to keep it? It is yours, after all." I glanced at her with a slightly raised eyebrow.
"Master, I will feel better if it keeps you out of danger rather than accompanying me." Artoria's voice was firm, though a twinge of reluctance lingered in her slightly tense grip on the scabbard.
"You can keep it. I don't care either way." [Avalon] had undoubtedly saved my life countless times, yet I knew it was infinitely more effective in her hands. If not [Avalon], I would simply find or create another safety net.
Artoria's grip eased, then tightened. She pushed her scabbard toward me, more insistent now.
"Take it, Master... I want you to have it." Her hesitation had vanished, resolve replacing the slight reluctance from moments prior.
I took it from her with my free hand, securing it in my hold.
"Is there anything else I can do, Master?" Artoria asked while stepping back, gaze fixed on me.
"You have been to the Infinite Armory with me once before. Go there and fetch the Dragon Marrow from storage unit 002." I spoke while moving around the vat, each step calibrated to allow my spatula to stir from a different angle, keeping the solution from settling.
"Consider it done." Artoria nodded, turned, and walked toward our room's exit.
She stopped just before stepping out and looked back over her shoulder.
"Master, what about those locks? Biometrics, I believe they were called." Her question did not make my steps pause.
"Your biometrics have already been recorded. You will be granted access with a single scan." She nodded once, faced forward, and walked away with calm steps.
It had barely been a minute since Artoria left when—
Master!
Medea's voice resounded in my mind.
Something happened. I stated.
Yes, Master. Both Gilgamesh's Master and Archer's Master seem to have formed an alliance against us.
My expression remained unchanged. It was a variable I had already anticipated.
Have you secured the ingredient? I asked.
Master, we have it. But we have Gilgamesh at our front and Archer to our back, right now.
For a fraction of a second, my movements stilled. My mind went into overdrive, calculating, deducing, simulating different futures.
In a possibility, Artoria lay crumpled around a spiraling sword—that image cracked and rotated, replaced by Medusa's chains snapping taut before going limp as she slid from her mount—cracked again, Medea's barrier shattering under golden rain—cracked again. Hundreds of deaths tumbled over each other like fragments in turning glass, never settling into anything real.
Master? Medea asked again at my silence.
They won't let you pull back. Teleport Artoria over to you at my signal. I had just finished speaking when Artoria returned, carrying a black jar sealed with hundreds of layered, compound magic circles engraved across its surface.
We still won't be able to hold out for long, Master. Every single one of us is low on mana. Medea's voice came a moment later, delayed by the danger surrounding her.
Ten minutes. Hold out for ten minutes. I glanced down at the vat of ink solution.
I will follow your lead, Master. Medea affirmed.
"Here, Master. The Dragon Marrow you requested." Artoria said, holding out the jar to me.
"Open it for me." I took a step back, setting both spatula and [Avalon] on the low table nearby.
After a fluid step back to gain momentum, I kicked the vat with a sweeping strike, hitting exactly where blood had begun to crystallize.
BAAM!
The entire vat shook, dissolving a large amount of blood crystals that were about to form.
Artoria's eyes widened at my actions, her gaze snapping up from the jar.
"Forget opening it with your hands, those magic circles isolate it under countless seals. Use [Mana Burst] and break it open."
My shin struck another section of the vat.
BAAM!
Artoria brought her gaze down. [Mana Burst] roared within her veins like thunder before rain. Golden light burst from between her fingers, the impact shattering over a hundred magic circles simultaneously.
Cracks spread across that black glass, and a subtle black gleam began to diffuse from within. Artoria held the failing jar out to me from my right, her arms unwavering.
My left foot slid half an inch back, spine straightening and weight dropping. I shifted sideways, left side toward the vat, right side toward Artoria.
Both fists coiled back.
For an instant, I held my stance.
Then—
BOOOM!
I released them with perfect synchronization.
My left fist met the vat. Tremendous force travelled through the ink solution, sending a splash of liquid skyward.
Shockwaves of my punch rippled in concentric circles within the vat, shattering any clusters that were about to form.
A moment later, all that airborne solution splashed back down into the vessel below; not a single drop spilled.
At the exact same time, my right palm snapped out, slamming into the last magic circle sealing that black jar just moments before Artoria's grip crushed it.
A draconic roar resounded in both my and Artoria's minds.
RROOOAR
That roar was followed by an invisible force, a residual draconic nature, trying to wrap our perceptions to overpower our wills.
Reality fractured. Our room melted away, replaced by a stormy sky. The silhouette of a black dragon with closed eyes swept between colossal clouds, tearing them apart in its wake even as lightning rumbled and rain fell below.
[Ultimate Despair] stirred.
The concept of despair bled into this illusion, infecting it. Grey clouds rotted into crimson, weeping blood-rain. That dragon roared, asserting its dominance—
Then, it felt it.
An absolute, suffocating void. From the bleeding earth below, an inevitability rose. Not a fist of violence, but of pure, crushing indifference.
The dragon's slit eyes snapped open. It thrashed, overwhelmed by the sheer hopelessness of facing something inevitable. Before it could even breathe defiance, that inevitability closed around it, erasing it like extinguishing a candle.
Both Artoria and I once again stood in our room. Her expression was bewildered, but it soon turned composed—though her fingers trembled almost imperceptibly.
I broke my stance and walked over to Artoria, taking the broken jar from her hands. Under her watchful gaze, I added a grey, jelly-like substance—Dragon Marrow—to that vat of ink.
Bubbles started to froth up from the solution, its color deepening from dark blue to midnight.
"Artoria."
I spoke without looking back.
"Yes, Master." She snapped to attention, her fingers clenching around empty air.
"I want you to go and help the others hold Gilgamesh and Archer back for ten minutes."
She did not question why or even how this time.
With a single nod, silver armour materialised around her in successive flashes—breastplate, gauntlets, plated battle skirt—condensing into a silhouette of war.
Her hands curled around something invisible. Compressed air sheathing the outline of a blade.
Excalibur.
Medea, you can teleport her to you now. I reached for Medea through our bond and notified her.
"I will hold them back till the very end, Master." Her voice was determined and regal.
I turned back and walked forward, coming face to face with her.
"Ten minutes."
She looked up. I looked down.
Silence fell.
A magic circle flashed beneath us, illuminating our faces with its violet glow.
Artoria started to vanish into specks of light.
I watched as a struggle flashed within her eyes.
Fear? Resolve?
My hand rose.
Not by calculation. Not as part of a grander strategy. It moved on its own, settling gently onto her hair.
A completely unnecessary action.
Her eyes widened, surprised, just as she dissolved into flecks of violet light.
I brought my hand back and turned my palm over, staring at the lines carved across it.
The warmth of her hair still lingered on my skin.
I was... becoming someone else.
...
..
.
***
[200 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter]
[5 chapters ahead on P@tr3on = [email protected]/Not_Aaryan]
...
Ultimate and their combinations used in this chapter -
[Ultimate Martial Artist] + [Ultimate Pharmacist] + [Ultimate Analyst] - Hitting the vat with pinpoint precision.
[Ultimate Analyst] + [Ultimate Detective] + [Ultimate Precognition] - Calculating futures.
[Ultimate Despair] + [Ultimate Illusionist] - To tamper with the illusion.
[Authors Thoughts]
Honestly... I had finished this chapter a day prior, but I just wasn't getting the satisfied feeling I get after a well done chapter, so I reworked it completely.
Have a productive day, everyone!