Abnormality In Type-Moon: Madness Of Animeverse

"Brat, are you planning to oppose this king as well?"

With a wave of his hand, Gilgamesh summoned a golden shield that materialized beside him, effortlessly deflecting Musashi's strike.

His eyes, sharp and venomous like a serpent's, bore down on Roy with an oppressive intensity. The silent threat within them was unmistakable.

If Roy truly intended to stand against him, even the faint admiration Gilgamesh held for the boy or the unanswered questions wouldn't spare him. He would show no mercy.

"Roy! Get out of here!"

Thanks to Musashi's timely intervention, Jeanne managed to catch her breath. She turned to Roy and shouted urgently.

She was an Archer, an ephemeral existence bound to this battlefield. Her death meant nothing in the grand scheme. But Roy—he was alive, tethered to the present. If he died, everything he cared about, everyone who cared for him, and even his yet-unfulfilled wish, would all perish here.

Then, Jeanne froze. Her gaze fell upon herself.

The dark miasma coiled around her was dissipating. The pitch-black aura enveloping her was unraveling, revealing her original form bit by bit.

It was clear now—her Master, Chiyoemon, was dead.

Her transformation, a grotesque distortion born of his overwhelming hatred, was being undone.

"Heroic King, I truly have no desire to fight you," Roy said, ignoring Jeanne's warning.

He met Gilgamesh's frosty gaze without flinching.

"But when it comes to Lancer—her—there are no compromises I can make!"

"Roy…" Jeanne's voice softened. Her violet eyes lingered on him, a wave of unfamiliar emotions washing over her.

For a moment, she faltered.

A delicate thread in her heart seemed to quiver, sending ripples through her chest.

His unwavering resolve, even in the face of futility, left her conflicted.

Though she had never experienced such a feeling before, she wasn't naïve.

His expression, firm yet tinged with desperation, was more than enough to reveal the truth. Jeanne understood now what Roy sought from her—what he desired.

"Oh, what a delightful expression," Gilgamesh remarked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

The oppressive air around him lightened just a fraction—but only a fraction.

"Roy, you say? Hmph. You remind this king of someone from long ago. Still…" His lips curled into a dangerous smirk. "Your offense against this king cannot go unpunished. Yet, I am feeling merciful today. Consider this an opportunity."

With a snap of his fingers—snap!—the ruins around them illuminated, their brilliance akin to the break of dawn.

Roy instinctively looked up, his breath catching in his throat.

The night sky was alight with countless golden ripples, forming intricate arrays and vortexes that swallowed the heavens.

"A thousand? No… ten thousand?" Roy's voice trembled, his mind reeling at the sheer scale.

This damn golden tyrant—did he have to go this far?!

Musashi retreated to Roy's side, her expression grave as she prepared to defend him.

"Hahaha! Yes! Behold! When this king becomes serious, this is the result!"

Gilgamesh's booming laughter echoed across the battlefield.

"One volley! I will grant you one volley as punishment for your impudence. That is my mercy. If you survive, I shall forgive you this once. But if you perish, it simply proves your incompetence! Prepare yourselves for the banquet this king has prepared for you! Hahaha!"

As his words faded, a deafening hum filled the air.

The golden ripples surged, glowing brighter than ever, flooding the ruins with light. All across Fuyuki City, people turned their gazes toward the source of the radiant, overwhelming power, trembling at its might.

Then, like the advent of an apocalyptic storm, countless golden projectiles rained down.

Musashi gritted her teeth, her knuckles whitening as she clutched her blade. Yet, against this onslaught, there was nothing she could do.

No one could.

"Don't move!"

Jeanne's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

The once-corrupted Lancer stepped forward, her armor gleaming silver once more. Her blue-violet habit radiated an aura of purity, and in her hands, she clutched a pristine white banner adorned with a golden fleur-de-lis.

She was no longer the vengeful specter of moments ago. Before them stood the resolute warrior who had once led armies across blood-soaked battlefields—the Holy Maiden herself.

"Lord, I beseech Thee! Grant me the strength to protect what I hold dear!"

With a powerful flourish of her banner, Jeanne unleashed a surge of divine light.

"Luminosité Eternelle—My Lord Is Here!"

The light expanded, forming a radiant, translucent barrier that enveloped them. Within its embrace, it felt as though they had stepped into another world—an inviolable sanctuary against the storm outside.

"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!"

Countless golden weapons clashed against the barrier, each collision reverberating like thunder. The cacophony of steel against divine protection was relentless, shaking the very air around them.

For those within the shield, every second felt like an eternity.

Gilgamesh stood at a distance, his gaze fixed on the resilient barrier. A flicker of admiration crossed his face.

"To regain your original form at the last possible moment… Hmph. Even fortune seems to favor you. You are but a step away from embarking on that path," he murmured.

"Interesting… In this forsaken world, someone of your caliber has emerged. Fascinating. Truly fascinating!"

A broad grin spread across his face as he turned and walked away, his laughter echoing behind him.

True to his word, he unleashed only a single volley. He never intended to go beyond that.

Ten years ago, the Great Holy Grail had decimated ninety percent of humanity.

The outcome had far surpassed Gilgamesh's expectations, and even Roy could surmise that the Counter Force must have been rendered useless. Gilgamesh, naturally, had noticed the same.

So, he had decided to exert himself—just slightly.

He had even used a fraction of his omniscient power, though the secrets of this peculiar world remained elusive. The more he peered into it, the more obscured it became, like a dream veiled in mist.

Yet, amidst the mystery, one truth stood out: the boy named Roy.

The artificial human wasn't just any pawn—he was the chosen center of this world.

A creation of the Second Magic user, perhaps?

But Roy was different. Unlike other protagonists, he bore an extraordinary weight—a mission and secrets that set him apart.

"Born from humanity's malice, destined to consume humanity itself… How amusing."

Gilgamesh's laughter echoed as his figure disappeared into the distance.

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