MMMS 107

The open ground before Einzbern Castle stretched like a battlefield waiting for blood. Artoria's white stallion snorted, steam rising from its nostrils as she adjusted her grip on Rhongomyniad. The weight of the lance felt right in her hands, familiar as breathing. Morgan flanked Ryuuto's left, her staff crackling with residual mana from the bombardment, while Irisviel took position on his right.

"Let's settle this, you two." Ryuuto stepped forward as the golden warship and its dark companion broke through the smoke and debris.

Gilgamesh's crimson eyes swept the formation before settling on Morgan with obvious disdain. "So the mongrel who dared show disrespect to this king is nothing more than a failed pretender. How pathetic."

Morgan's jaw tightened, but she said nothing.

The King of Heroes turned his attention to Ryuuto, lips curling in amusement. "Are you Caster's Master as well? Of course you are. The Holy Grail's meager seven classes could never contain your mongrel Spirit Origin."

Ryuuto tilted his head, the gesture almost innocent. "You've got it backwards. Morgan's stronger than me. So is Artoria." He gestured casually toward his Servants. "They're the ones protecting me. I just happen to be a little stronger than you." His smile sharpened. "Wait, does that make you the weakest one here, Archer?"

The silence stretched for a heartbeat. Two heartbeats.

A muscle jumped in Gilgamesh's jaw. "Don't get carried away, mongrel."

Ryuuto kept his expression mild, but his mind was already working. The Golden King was powerful, sure, but that temper of his was a weakness waiting to be exploited.

"Oh, how interesting." His tone carried just the right note of false admiration. "I was wondering where all this confidence was coming from tonight. But look who's here—the King of Conquerors himself! With Rider backing you up, no wonder you're feeling so brave, Archer."

Golden ripples split the air. A blade came spinning toward his head.

Ryuuto's dagger met it with a sharp ring of steel. The sword tumbled end over end before burying itself in the dirt by his boots.

"Enough! Your pathetic taunts won't save you, mongrel."

But his jaw was tight. The bait had worked.

Ryuuto turned toward the massive figure approaching on his horse. "So you came after all, Rider."

"Of course I did!" Iskandar's booming laugh echoed across the courtyard as he folded his arms. "A king keeps his word.” His eyes swept over Artoria and the others. "Still, you've got your own army, don't you, boy?"

"The best I could ask for." Ryuuto glanced back at the three women behind him. "I'm grateful I entered this war. Finding people willing to watch your back... that's worth more than any wish."

Iskandar’s grip tightened on the reins. "I can see it in their eyes—the way they look at you. Complete trust. You really are what Archer claimed. The strongest enemy I've ever faced."

A wild grin split his features. "The perfect end to my journey!"

Wind began to stir. Not the cool evening breeze of the Einzbern forest, but something else. Something that tasted of sun-baked stone and endless horizons.

"Against you, I won't hold anything back!" Iskandar raised his sword high. "Come! Pave a new path of conquest! Ionian Hetairoi!"

The world exploded.

Light erupted from everywhere at once, washing out the trees, the castle, the very sky. Ryuuto felt the ground shift beneath his feet—soft earth giving way to burning sand that bit at his ankles. The cool night air turned scorching, carrying grit that stung his eyes and filled his nostrils with the scent of ancient battlefields.

When the light faded, they stood under a blazing sun in an endless desert.

Morgan lifted her chin, studying the transformed landscape with professional interest. Irisviel gasped behind her hand. "A Reality Marble? But you're not even a magus!"

"Assemble, my brothers!" Iskandar's voice rolled across the dunes like thunder. "Tonight we ride into legend!"

The sand shimmered. Figures began to take shape—first as shadows, then as men. Warriors in bronze and iron, cavalry on snorting horses, infantry with spears gleaming. Thousands upon thousands, all answering their king's call across time itself.

The battlefield divided cleanly: Iskandar and his army of legends on one side, Gilgamesh floating above them in Vimana; Ryuuto's smaller group on the other, with Artoria, Morgan, and Irisviel close behind.

Gilgamesh looked down at Ryuuto with something like distaste. "Normally I wouldn't stoop to such tactics." Golden ripples began spreading across the sky like cracks in reality. "But your existence offends me more than sharing glory with that oaf."

He gestured lazily. Golden mist swirled above the army, raining down weapons that sang with power. Every soldier, every rider now held blades that could cut through castle walls, spears that could pierce dragon scales.

Thirty thousand heroes, armed with the treasures of kings.

The army spread before them had become something beyond mortal comprehension. Thirty thousand warriors, each now gripping weapons that hummed with divinity. Blades that had split mountains, spears that had pierced the hearts of monsters, shields that had turned aside the breath of dragons.

This wasn't just an army anymore. It was legend given form.

Ryuuto studied the sea of heroes stretching to the horizon, each one capable of leveling a city block. The heat shimmer made them look like they were dancing, ready to sweep forward and erase everything in their path.

"Well." He scratched his head. "This is impressive."

For a moment, he considered using Prelati’s Spellbook to become a massive demon—it might level the playing field, but it would also make him a target the size of a building. With Gilgamesh's treasury and these heroes' experience, he’d last about ten seconds before getting turned into magical hamburger.

"What's this?" Morgan taunted him. "Is my dear Master actually considering retreat?"

Artoria shifted in her saddle, lance held ready but relaxed. "If you want to withdraw, I'll hold them off. But if you're planning to fight..." She met his eyes. "I trust your judgment."

Ryuuto looked between them. Morgan with her sharp smile and eyes that said she'd follow him into hell just to see what happened. Artoria steady as stone, radiating quiet confidence in whatever choice he made.

A laugh bubbled up from his chest. "Thirty thousand legendary heroes armed with divine weapons." He grinned at the impossible odds. "Against the three of us."

He rolled his shoulders, feeling the familiar weight of his dagger at his side.

"Sounds about even to me."