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Chapter 479: The Thunder Emperor's Light
"Slow down! Slow down!" Muniere yelled, clutching his seat in a death grip. "Sir, it's time to slow down!"
Even after plunging into the glacial forest, Goredolf was still barreling ahead at full speed, powersliding through the crystalline trees one after another. Every drift made Muniere's heart jump; he was terrified they'd slam into a trunk and provoke the giant-kind.
But Goredolf shot back, "Don't underestimate me! And why am I the one driving in the first place?!"
With that, he stomped on the brake.
The Shadow Border began decelerating, skimming and drifting through the ice-crystal forest. Under Goredolf's constant corrections, it reached the leyline node with the least possible noise. But almost at the same time—
Rumble, rumble!
Deafening roars rolled out as the snow shook and shivered.
"The giants are here!"
"Holmes! It's on you!" cried Da Vinci-chan.
Just as Holmes was about to head out, he cocked an eyebrow. "Da Vinci—turn on the detector. Do you see any other Servant signatures?"
"There's one Servant reading!"
Prompted by Holmes, Da Vinci-chan called out at once, "It's an unknown reaction—an unfamiliar Servant. Everyone, be careful. I'm deploying the barrier right now!"
Hum.
With the Shadow Border docked near the leyline node, it could detect the leyline at this range and immediately began interfering with it, drawing mana to deploy a barrier.
But they were far too close. They'd already entered the giants' line of sight. Even with the barrier and optical camouflage engaged in time, their position was blown!
Rustle, rustle.
Along with the giants' roars, a petite figure appeared amid the ice-crystal woods not far away.
"Shirou, should we go?"
The nameless girl stroked the pure-white giant bear beside her, as if seeking its opinion.
Rescuing humans about to be attacked by giants wasn't really a choice for her.
After all, she had a clear handle on this world's situation by now: aside from the humans penned up in villages (who only got attacked occasionally), there was really only one kind of human who would be targeted.
Outsiders.
Those like her—beings from Proper Human History.
A low, throaty whine sounded; the pure white bear seemed to answer her, and the girl's face lit up with delight. "I knew it, Shirou—you're a good boy. Gonna be a champion of justice? Then let's begin, Shirou!"
She swung herself up onto the broad back of the giant bear. "Charge, charge!"
"Rooaar!"
The white bear sprang forward on all fours, surging ahead at incredible speed, its roar even suppressing the giants'.
The giants reacted as if facing a mortal enemy, whipping around without hesitation, yanking up tree trunks at hand and hurling them at the bear!
The fight began in an instant—and at the same time, the Shadow Border detected the nameless girl's Saint Graph.
"Multiple divinity signatures—an Alter Ego?!"
Da Vinci-chan picked up on the divinities inside the girl. She hadn't fully parsed which pantheon they belonged to yet, but she could confirm the presence of multiple divinities; the dominant one at the moment resembled the beastly divinity they'd seen with Jaguar Warrior back in the Seventh Singularity, Mesopotamia.
After all, that white bear was strong enough to rival a Servant—it clearly wasn't some random summoned phantasm beast.
Also—
"This one's face looks really familiar!"
Da Vinci-chan stared at the screen. The outfit was primitive, but you can't mistake a face—it looked like a certain someone's child version.
"An Einzbern homunculus, isn't she?"
Holmes, who'd halted mid-stride at the girl's appearance, said, "I've reviewed the data on the Fuyuki Holy Grail Wars. As one of the three founding families, the Einzberns are a magus family specializing in homunculi; their template features white hair and red eyes—this is that type.
And Chaldea has data on a homunculus from another worldline—the Heaven's Feel' Irisviel. Work backward from the facial features and you'll find she's almost identical to this girl."
"A homunculus with no feats of her own, turned into a Heroic Spirit by combining multiple divinities?"
Da Vinci-chan caught on at once. "In that case, we can classify her as a pseudo-Servant like Zhuge Liang or Ishtar—most likely an ally of Proper Human History, right?"
"Presumably a land-summoned Servant, like in the Russian Lostbelt."
Holmes nodded. "If so, our crisis might just be solvable—and we can proceed smoothly with producing the True Human."
The battle ended quickly. Even the giant-kind were outclassed by an Alter Ego stitched from multiple divinities and were swiftly routed.
Elated, the girl soon arrived near the Shadow Border and shouted at the empty air, "It's all clear now! Aren't you coming out?"
"Apologies—we just wrapped things up."
Holmes, who had risked going out, and Da Vinci-chan, fresh from the engine room, exited the Shadow Border and greeted the nameless girl. In the process, they learned her True Name at last.
Sitonai.
A being using someone tied to the Holy Grail as a core, fused with multiple Heroic Spirits.
Her formation is thought to be akin to a pseudo-Servant like Zhuge Liang, but her manifestation resembles a high-grade composite Servant, extracting a particularly strong ego in the manner of an Alter Ego.
The person serving as the vessel is not a human magus, but the latest and last artificial lifeform crafted by the Einzbern—Illyasviel von Einzbern.
She possesses large-scale Command Seals covering her body, excels in magical precision, and has top-class Master aptitude.
It's also said she contains the function of a Lesser Grail.
Her True Name as registered in the Saint Graph is Sitonai, apparently indicating that among the three spirits gathered in the vessel, Sitonai is the one most clearly expressed externally.
That said, her personality seems closer to that of Illyasviel von Einzbern.
Thus the three divine cores within Sitonai were made explicit: the Norse goddess Freyja, the Ainu maiden-hero Sitonai, and the witch Louhi.
The first divinity: Freyja—the Norse goddess of love and beauty, also associated with fertility, magic, war, and gold.
Daughter of Njord, sister to Freyr. Benevolent and beloved, for in lands of ice and snow people longed fervently for spring.
She often wears heavy makeup and finery; sometimes she dons full armor and rides to battle. After the Valkyries select the fallen heroes for Odin, she takes the other half of the slain to her hall.
The other two divinities need not be belabored here. In conversation, Holmes and Da Vinci-chan also learned that Sitonai had once been captured by the Lostbelt King, Scáthach-Skadi, but recently escaped from an ice prison.
…
A short while earlier, in the snowbound castle—
The three Valkyries fought in perfect concert. Even faced with Cú Chulainn's spear, which had reached the divine realm and turned invisible, they could intercept a thrust or two. With Mash's support, Cú still held the advantage—until—
"Use your Noble Phantasm, Cú Chulainn! Mash, play it by ear." Knowing they couldn't afford to draw out the battle, Ritsuka Fujimaru decisively ordered a Noble Phantasm release.
"Got it!"
At the order, Cú Chulainn sprang back to open distance with the Valkyries. He crouched low, a predator tensing to spring; long, lean limbs swelled with muscle, radiating raw power even to the eye.
"Noble Phantasms!"
Seeing this, the Valkyries—Thrúd in the lead—spoke as one: "Input confirmed. Noble Phantasm, release."
A Noble Phantasm is a Servant's trump card—used to settle a fight. If the enemy brings theirs to bear, you answer in kind.
At Thrúd's word, Hildr and Ortlinde entered Noble Phantasm release as well.
Mash's expression tightened, but she drew a deep breath and planted herself before the Valkyries, shield raised.
"Little miss, I'm counting on you!"
Still building power, Cú flashed a grin. His Noble Phantasm, Gáe Bolg, was originally an anti-army weapon modified by himself into an anti-personnel thrust—his sure-kill and trump.
That made it superb against a single target—but only that, a single target.
If he wanted to strike them all, he'd have to use the original Gáe Bolg, the throwing version.
Unlike the B+-rank anti-personnel Spear of Piercing Death, the throwing Gáe Bolg is a B+-rank anti-army Noble Phantasm—his strongest attack with the spear.
He sprints, vaults high into the air, and from on high hurls it earthward with his full might to trigger it.
Unlike the original, it lacks the conceptual property of inevitably pierces the opponent's heart, but its power and area of effect are greater.
Its attack range carpets not just the target but the area around them as well—like a bombing run. Even a firm barrier or nimble step can be overwhelmed and a whole group blasted away.
In other words, an unavoidable strike you have to take head-on.
Almost simultaneously—at the instant Cú began his run-up—Thrúd and her sisters entered the activation steps for their Noble Phantasm. Their ethereal chant was precise as a cold machine: "Co-entities, begin manifestation."
It was the Valkyries' unique Noble Phantasm: Ragnarök Lífþrasir.
Multiple Valkyries gather, bind together the function meant to guide heroes' souls to Valhalla, and throw their Noble Phantasms—the Pseudo–Allfather's Decree—as one.
In that sense it's not unlike the Gáe Bolg Cú was using—they both involve a spear thrown. But what follows differs.
Ragnarök Lífþrasir not only inflicts the damage of the hurled lances, it also deploys a certain bounded field in its area of effect.
It grants mercy to all pure souls, and at the same time denies the existence of all lifeforms that are not correct.
It creates a space in which Servants or familiars, and techniques, phantasmal species, vampire species—anything of magecraft or mana—are made to vanish (any who fail a resistance check disappear).
Linked in full performance, the Valkyries shone head to toe, their angelic forms aglow. Their eyes locked onto the girl before them and the blue lancer preparing to surge. "Begin sync. Aim complete."
The Pseudo–Allfather's Decrees burst into brilliant radiance, spears of light raised high by the three Valkyries.
"True name—freeze and deploy—!"
Almost in the same instant—or even a fraction earlier—the girl intoned the true name of the shield in her hands. "That is the city of fantasy that bears countless roads and countless wishes—answer me, O already-fragile city of dreams…!"
This was the girl's protection—the manifestation of her heart—
Vague ramparts rose before her, becoming an uncrossable moat, seeking to block the Valkyries' Noble Phantasm bombardment.
Thud!
His run-up complete, Cú leapt high, his spear blazing with a terrifying scarlet light—a sure-kill cast with all the mana in his body.
"Gáe Bolg!"
The spear left his hand like lightning, ripping through multiple sound barriers in an instant. The shock rings even sheared open the ice coating the ground.
Ophelia, protected in advance by Skadi, watched this astonishing scene in silence.
Sigurd still hadn't finished his battle—on the contrary, his mana consumption was climbing.
A knight—at even that level of Saint Graph—could stall Sigurd?
If so—
Rrrrrrrumble!
The two sides' Noble Phantasms met. Silent destruction twined and clashed, shockwaves raging to the heavens. Countless ice crystals shattered and flew. Skadi herself had to act to suppress the devastation.
But in that moment—
"!"
Skadi's expression shifted. She snapped her head around, and the jade-pale hand she'd lifted only had time to add a few more layers of defense around herself and Ophelia.
More terrifying than that scarlet, vaster than the ramparts, more blazing than the Allfather's Decrees—
A bolt of lightning punched through the castle in an instant, breaking off the three-way Noble Phantasm clash!
"!"
Gritting her teeth, Mash planted herself before Ritsuka Fujimaru and Cú Chulainn, using her Noble Phantasm to block the onrushing thunderlight.
KRA-KOOM!
The lightning rampaged, blowing away most of the icebound castle. Even the deep ice prison was blasted apart. A certain white-haired girl, not even knowing what had happened, was hurled several miles away.
"You've got some nerve, I'll give you that!"
A stranger's voice cursed as a woman dragged herself out of the ruined castle, bronze skin laced with crimson divine markings.
It was Caenis, the deity they'd once crossed spears with in Russia—and not far from her stood the dragonslaying great hero, Sigurd.
The two of them had appeared together.
A bad premonition rose in Ophelia's chest; she turned to look into the distance.
Ritsuka Fujimaru, safe thanks to Mash's protection, didn't have time to spare a glance for Sigurd and Caenis. Following the path the lightning had carved, they strained their eyes and just made out a figure not far off.
"Is that—"
Mash caught sight of the figure and unconsciously held her breath. "Is that Alaric?!"
Cracks ran all over Alaric's body, but his fighting spirit was undiminished.
Auroral light swirled about him; the silhouette of an ancient divine beast roared skyward amid trailing filaments of lightning. Centuries of struggle had become proof in this moment.
It was the thunder of Ivan the Terrible.
Chapter 480: Reflection
A short while earlier, outside the castle—
Clang!
Crimson sword-light and pitch-black blade-flash intertwined, the formless shockwaves slicing out for dozens, even hundreds of meters. The thunder of their clash was like a giant chiseling a mountain, carving a natural wonder.
A battle beyond human sight was unfolding—the pinnacle of swordcraft crossing blades.
By now, the dazzling mana bursts and rolling curses were no longer the only colors. Both men had pulled inward until the fight became pure steel-on-steel.
Alaric, to conserve mana, had chosen to rein it in and focus it along his edge. Sigurd, to answer Alaric's kill-on-hit sword technique that had reached into the divine, had no choice but to do the same.
This wasn't like a few days ago. Alaric now had sufficient mana, and he had no Shadow Border to protect. After opening the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, he held nothing back!
Crick, crack.
Tiny shards flew up across Alaric's vision—things like skin-flakes tinged with a faint light.
Even though he'd kept his mana output within his Saint Graph's tolerance to pry at the mountain that was Sigurd, the same Saint Graph damage as days before had begun creeping in regardless.
Perhaps the massive mana he'd back-fed to Ritsuka Fujimaru was a factor as well.
In any case, Alaric could feel his Saint Graph tearing. If this continued, it would collapse completely sooner or later.
He knew it—but he wouldn't retreat. Instead, as his battle lust climbed, he laughed wildly. "Sigurd! You're not planning to drag this out and let my Saint Graph break so you can win, are you?"
There was no way Sigurd—Northland's great hero, keen-sighted among heroes—hadn't noticed Alaric's body on the verge of shattering.
Tactically, stalling was the best choice. Keep stretching the clock, and Alaric would die on the next Saint Graph collapse.
But that was too craven—that was a weakling's way of thinking.
Alaric didn't mind going out like that. But for Sigurd to use it—that would be disappointing.
If you're a great hero, then beat me head-on—at full strength!
"Such noise."
Sigurd's voice was low as he swung his demon blade again and again.
At this point, even if Sigurd wanted to end it quickly, it was extremely difficult. Though he held a complete advantage, Alaric's Mystic Eyes of Death Perception and god-tier swordsmanship evened the scales.
With the added numbers from Mana Burst, every stroke Alaric threw carried lethal threat to Sigurd. And although Sigurd didn't fear death—
"Well now."
A light voice cut in, and a surging divinity rolled in like a tidal wave, swallowing both men.
A spear-wielding warrior—Caenis—stood not far away. "What luck. I no sooner show up here and I get to watch some demon sword and knight tearing up the sky. Hm. You're not your original self, but you'll do."
"I'll be the one to kill you. I haven't killed a single person these past few months and it's driving me nuts."
Caenis bared her teeth at Alaric, who was crossing steel with Sigurd. "Ready, knight?"
No coordination needed—razor killing intent, laced with divinity, howled toward him.
Sea-god divinity condensed into divine energy and became ten thousand spears. Wherever it passed, the ground heaved like waves and burst apart. Layer on layer of shock fronts stacked, finally becoming an apocalyptic seascape.
Rrrrumble.
Pinned by Sigurd, Alaric couldn't evade. Even with his instincts screaming a warning, all he could do was meet the attack head-on!
Azure divinity rampaged across the snowfield; like a raging sea, its vast godly might filled every corner of the air, declaring its supremacy.
With a single strike, it unleashed power on par with a Noble Phantasm.
When the azure divine energy dispersed, Alaric stood tens of meters away. Dazzling aurora flowed around him, forming a moat-like defense that shaved off and forcibly deflected every part of the oncoming attack.
He was unscathed—but the cost had spiked sharply.
Ignoring that, Alaric flicked a glance at Caenis, who shouldn't have been here. "So you're some kind of field agent? Russia, then the North—what, are you so useless to Kirschtaria in the Greek that he sent you out?"
"Keep yapping and I'll twist your head off."
Caenis's face darkened. She raised her divine spear and leveled it at Alaric. "Next strike, your head—"
"He's my prey. I don't recall yielding him to some mangy cur that never stops barking."
Sigurd, who'd been rattled by that one strike, spoke slowly, cutting off Caenis. "Before you demand your courier's fee, at least bring the Master a kind word."
Having once eavesdropped on Ophelia's comms, Sigurd knew why Caenis had come to the Scandinavian Lostbelt. Naturally he'd choose to liken her to a mere errand-runner.
"Can't stand someone stealing your kill, huh?"
Caenis didn't cede an inch. "What are you, a polite dog now?"
"'Dog,' is it? That's a nostalgic word."
Sigurd said, "That sort of thing turned to ash long ago. In this North there's nothing left worth the metaphor. Everything's destroyed, and everything will be destroyed.
You too, god Caenis. I don't know how hopeless your side's world is—but since you've come here, you'll walk the same road. If you don't mind, by all means, continue.
And then stay here—long, and forever."
It was a warning—someone's warning delivered by him.
Caenis, divinity and pride bristling, arched a brow. Just as she was about to spit back, she noticed something—remembered something. "—? Hey, you… looks like—
Ah. So that's it. Now this is interesting."
Standing at a higher vantage with more intel than Alaric had, Caenis could see things he couldn't. Naturally, she saw what was up with the man called Sigurd.
"Russia was straightforward. This place is a mess, huh."
Caenis squinted one eye and smirked. "Scandinavian Lostbelt is really something. Fine—I won't take the knight's life. I'll just take an arm. I can see it—you can't finish him right now, can you?"
"…"
Sigurd didn't answer. In his current condition, he indeed couldn't bring Alaric down.
If Ophelia lifted restriction after restriction and let his Saint Graph climb to peak, he could—but not now.
"Hey, you two trading lines like that—you've already got me in the bag, huh?"
Facing two great foes, Alaric seemed to come to a decision. His expression was relaxed, even cheerful. "Then let me show you—"
Hum.
The aurora bloomed—and lightning flared. The roar of an ancient divine beast made both god Caenis and the human called Sigurd blanch.
This was the coronation's true visage—using the essence of the aurora—or rather, Alaric's own essence—to reflect and preserve an if.
Though pruned phenomena are losers, cast into history's dustbin after futures are lost, their strength is beyond question.
There was no time to react—not even a surge of mana. The lightning that galloped out of the aurora reached godlike speed in an instant, too fast for even Caenis and Sigurd to dodge.
KRA-KRA-KOOM!
When the lightning faded, the castle that had stood on the snowfield for millennia was simply gone—only rubble remained.
Within kilometers, the snowfield melted, becoming a scalding sea.