Chapter 44 (Patreon)

Inside the Eight Trigrams Stone Soldiers Formation—

“No… there’s no way out like this, let alone any way to destroy it.”

Within the fog-shrouded city, Kenjaku had no choice but to fend off the tide-like barrage of Noble Phantasms while desperately searching for a way to break through.

In that case…

Kenjaku finally unfolded an open-barrier Domain Expansion of his own.

Though its scale was nowhere near Ragnar Kagenou’s, at the very least, it would allow him to anchor himself and avoid losing his bearings inside the formation.

Kenjaku brought his hands together.

The moment Ragnar saw that, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

“So you finally couldn’t hold back anymore?”

Kenjaku spoke at once.

“Domain Expansion — Final Arrival: Third Reich.”

In an instant, black-and-crimson cursed energy spread outward with Kenjaku at its center.

This was not a Domain Expansion Kenjaku had ever used before, but one that belonged to the original owner of the body he had taken over.

It was the fusion of two powers—the abilities of a German officer from World War II named Karl, and Jack the Ripper—combined into a new open-barrier domain.

After expanding for several hundred meters, Kenjaku’s domain began to lose strength. Across the space it covered, red banners marked with reversed swastika-like emblems appeared one after another.

And behind Kenjaku, an iconic structure rose into view—

the Empire State Building.

“It’s impressive, Ragnar Kagenou,” Kenjaku said softly, standing atop the Empire State Building and gazing out at London, still encircled by the eight colossal stone pillars. “Your domain really is absurdly vast.”

Then he smiled faintly.

“So… why don’t we sit down and talk?”

Ragnar looked at him with complete indifference.

“Was what I said earlier too difficult for you to understand?”

Kenjaku did not get angry. If anything, the smile on his face deepened.

“I’m simply curious,” he said slowly. “Why are you so fixated on killing me? Is it only because of that special-grade sealing cursed object?”

Ragnar gave a cold snort.

“That’s only one of many reasons.”

Kenjaku narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Then what are the others? Care to tell me?”

A flash of cold killing intent passed through Ragnar’s eyes.

“There’s no reason for a dead man to know that much.”

His voice dropped, sharp and merciless.

“You only need to understand one thing—when it comes to killing you, I don’t need a list of excuses.”

At that, Kenjaku clicked his tongue, then shook his head with a faint sigh.

“So there’s no room left for negotiation.”

Ragnar answered without hesitation.

“None.”

Those words made everything clear.

Kenjaku understood it at once.

Just as he himself killed others, seized their bodies, and continued living through them—

Ragnar had already decided what he was.

There would be no compromise here.

This was not a conflict that could be talked away.

It was slaughter.

At that moment, behind Kenjaku, in front of the Empire State Building, the Gustav railway gun manifested, fully deployed and overflowing with cursed energy.

At the same instant, Ragnar spoke calmly.

“Seven Rings that Cover the Fiery Heavens.”

The moment the blast of cursed energy roared toward him, seven petal-like layers unfolded in front of Ragnar.

Boom!

In the blink of an eye, three layers of the defensive Noble Phantasm shattered.

At the same time, a stream of silver liquid flowed out from the Gate of Babylon behind Ragnar and silently sank into the ground.

Swoosh!

And in that very instant, Kenjaku appeared behind Ragnar.

Ragnar did not even turn around.

After all, Kenjaku could not shatter the remaining four layers of the Seven Rings that Cover the Fiery Heavens in an instant.

After barely breaking through two more layers, Kenjaku immediately withdrew.

The next moment—

countless Noble Phantasms rained down toward him.

In response, anti-aircraft fire erupted throughout Final Arrival: Third Reich, intercepting the incoming barrage one after another.

For a moment, it felt as though the battle had returned to the skies above Berlin in 1945.

Every second, thousands of Noble Phantasms hurtled toward Kenjaku.

Every second, the anti-air batteries within the domain roared in response.

Ragnar’s barrage did not stop.

And the guns around the Empire State Building continued firing at a frenzied pace.

“It’s about time the curtain fell.”

Kenjaku frowned as he looked at Ragnar.

What exactly made him so confident?

Ragnar’s expression remained calm.

“The laws of victory were already decided from the start.”

Suddenly, Kenjaku sensed something strange emerging beneath his feet.

He looked down.

What he saw was a mercury-like liquid slowly seeping up from the ground.

“What… is this?”

A wave of doubt and unease rose in Kenjaku’s chest.

But before he could react, the mysterious liquid spread at terrifying speed, rapidly eroding the domain under his control.

The once-solid ground of the domain was completely submerged beneath the silver fluid, until it resembled a vast shimmering lake.

“Victory doesn’t require elaborate tricks,” Ragnar said calmly, his voice steady and absolute. “It only requires that nothing be left to chance.”

As his words fell, the silver sea that had engulfed the domain began to change.

Its surface rippled like real seawater, swaying gently under an unseen wind.

Then, without anyone noticing when it appeared—

a radiant moon hung high behind Kenjaku.

Its reflection gleamed across the silver sea below, creating an eerie, breathtaking sight.

Ragnar’s voice echoed across the field.

“Formation of Primordial Unity.”

Kenjaku’s eyes widened.

On the seemingly endless horizon, a massive sun was slowly rising.

Its light spread across the strange silver sea, bathing everything in a dreamlike brilliance.

Kenjaku stared at it in disbelief.

“That’s… the sun?”

The instant that false sun’s light shone across the domain, Final Arrival: Third Reich collapsed on the spot.

Behind Ragnar, a mass of silver slime floated into view—

The highest-grade Mystic Code, Volumen Hydrargyrum.

It was also the vessel used to deploy the Formation of Primordial Unity.

In the next instant, Kenjaku was thrown back into the Eight Trigrams Stone Soldiers Formation.

And once he returned to that labyrinth, he had no way left to break free.

“Your weaknesses are laid bare before me.”

Inside the fog, Kenjaku desperately struggled against Ragnar’s attacks, but he was already on the verge of collapse.

“Cough… cough…”

He staggered, half-laughing despite himself.

“Endless trump cards… seemingly endless Noble Phantasms… what are you supposed to be? Some pay-to-win bastard?”

Kenjaku was nearly dizzy from the relentless beating.

No matter what cursed technique he used, Ragnar always had a Noble Phantasm or tool perfectly suited to counter it.

And the cursed tools Ragnar kept bringing out were things Kenjaku had never seen even once in the last thousand years.

Even the Gate of Babylon—which Kenjaku had mistaken for some kind of cursed technique—was something completely beyond his knowledge.

Then Ragnar raised the Sword of Promised Victory and pointed it straight at Kenjaku.

“Noble Phantasm — Sword of Promised Victory!”

A golden torrent of light erupted forth and swallowed Kenjaku whole.

Under that overwhelming radiance, Kenjaku was blasted to his knees.

White steam rose from his body, and even the raindrops falling around him were instantly vaporized.

Then, as the Eight Trigrams Stone Soldiers Formation finally began to disperse, Kenjaku saw Ragnar standing before him.

Only a few meters away.

Ragnar’s gaze was cold and unwavering.

“Kenjaku… hand over the Prison Realm.”

Kenjaku stared at him and muttered hoarsely—

“Is this… the end…”

Noble Phantasm: Formation of Primordial Unity

Rank: B++

Type: Anti-Formation Noble Phantasm

Description:

The Formation of Primordial Unity is a silent formation.

More precisely, it is the Formation of Primordial Unity.

It embodies the essence of Sima Yi—not as a strategist who overwhelms others with dazzling schemes, but as a man who naturally sets his formations, naturally waits for the right moment, naturally secures victory, and then recites poems he never cared for while in a foul mood.

When the false sun and moon rise upon the horizon, whatever the enemy excels at is stripped away, and their weaknesses are exposed.

Therefore, once sufficient conditions are met—such as an opponent who has already been defeated once before, or an enemy whose data has already been collected—this Noble Phantasm becomes a trump card capable of doing far more than merely exploiting weaknesses.

It can even create them.