IBHJ Chapter 807

Galahad opened a small breach in the corner of the city wall, allowing the knights to lead the troops in their retreat.

Seeing this, Bergelmir's eyes narrowed to slits. He shouted, "Don't let them escape! Kill every last one of them, or they'll regroup with the main force!"

The Fire Giant generals were neither individualistic heroes nor fools. They understood this fundamental truth all too well.

Conquering a castle was merely a means to an end; the true goal was to slaughter the living forces, to break their spirit and will to fight. Once most of the people were killed, their blood staining the earth, conquering the land would be a simple matter, a foregone conclusion. That was the true mark of victory, the spoils that awaited the winners.

As Bergelmir and the giants charged towards the retreating knights and soldiers, Galahad roared, "Don't even think about it!"

Galahad gathered his mana, the magical energy swirling around him like a tempest, and poured it into his Noble Phantasm. The castle walls shimmered and transformed, growing into longer, more imposing ramparts that blocked Bergelmir and the giants from pursuing, an impenetrable barrier.

Sigurd, who had retreated with the knights, stopped and looked back at Galahad's solitary figure. Was this betrayal, or... He didn't dwell on it, waving his sleeve and turning to leave. It was a resolve that a hero like him couldn't comprehend, a sacrifice he couldn't fathom.

"Don't let them escape!" Bergelmir bellowed.

The giants and the Kraken intensified their assault, their attacks growing more savage and relentless with each passing moment. Massive fists pounded against the walls, while the Kraken's tentacles lashed out like whips, sending shockwaves rippling through the snowy land. Even under this heavy bombardment, they still couldn't break through that one-man wall. However, the relentless, heavy attacks continued to chip away at Galahad's tenacious mind, each blow a hammer strike against his resolve.

"Aaaahhhh--!" Galahad roared, his voice raw and his eyes bloodshot as he single-handedly supported a wall against disasters.

A one-man wall!

Galahad's mind drifted back to Shirou's words at the Gate of Muspelheim. "You have something you want to tell Mordred, right? So, don't die, Galahad." 

Yes, he had something to tell Mordred, words that needed to be spoken. If he couldn't even do this, how could he call himself a knight?

His thoughts wandered to the day he first met Mordred, the spirited girl from the countryside. She had approached him with a wide grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hi there! I'm Mordred. Say, you look like a strong one. Wanna fight? Trust me, after a good fight, we'll be the best of friends!" Her smile was just as pure as her father's, reminding him of the first time he saw the king. It had instantly captured his young heart.

From that year on, he started to care for the child. However, Mordred was quite a handful, causing her fair share of trouble. Once, she even impersonated her father to tease Guinevere. The girl was far too daring for her own good.

"Geez, you're always nagging me, being so fussy. Is this what it feels like to have a big brother? It's really annoying. But, Galahad, do you want to be my..."

She had blinked up at him, those big eyes full of mischief. It might have been just a casual joke to her, but he took it to heart. So, when he finally obtained the Holy Grail and God himself invited him to heaven, he politely declined.

In that moment, even the omnipotent God was taken aback. But wasn't it obvious? His king, Mordred had given him one final order: to inherit the kingdom and pass on the legacy of the Eternal Kingdom. As a knight, how could he not fulfill that duty?

Galahad the Knight, the unyielding city wall, what he truly wanted to protect was not Pan-Human History, but the history that she was a part of. What he truly held dear was the lifelong oath he had sworn.

And then--

crack

The majestic wall crumbled.

Galahad stood there, holding his large shield, his eyes empty and soulless.

Bergelmir approached Galahad, "Even in death, you still resist? Human, you have a bravery that commands respect. Unfortunately, you're still an enemy."

With a flick of his finger, Bergelmir tapped Galahad's forehead. The sound of shattering glass filled the air as Galahad's body crumbled, dissolving into spiritrons that scattered in the wind.

"Sorry, Mordred. Looks like I won't be able to tell you..."

Galahad's final words faded as his spiritrons drifted like snowflakes, carried towards the distant horizon.

Meanwhile in Chaldea...

"Hmm?" Mordred turned her head, pressing her hand against her chest.

Little Mo looked at her strangely. "What's wrong, little runt?"

Mordred kept her hand over her chest, an uncomfortable expression settling on her face.

...

Bedivere burst into the meeting room, his expression frantic. Turning to Shirou, he said anxiously, "My king, Galahad, he..."

"I know, Bedivere," Shirou said, struggling to maintain his composure. How could he not know? When Galahad fell in battle, his Noble Phantasm had already notified him of Galahad's death.

He fought to control his emotions and keep his face neutral. Among the Knights of the Round Table, who did he admire most? It wasn't those who had followed him the longest, but the pure-hearted Galahad. Anyone who interacted with him couldn't help but like the innocent boy. Shirou, of course, liked him too. Galahad's death in battle filled him with sorrow. Even though Heroic Spirits could be summoned again, the death they experienced was real.

Agravain calmly said, "It's unfortunate, but before his death, Galahad successfully ensured the army's retreat, preserving our forces. Although we were defeated and suffered casualties, he performed admirably. It can be considered a worthy death."

Turning to face Shirou, Agravain continued speaking, his expression blank, "My king, Alfheim has fallen, and the giant army has converged. It's only a matter of time before the legions of Sir Gawain and the others are surrounded. Please issue an order immediately for the army to retreat and regroup."

Geraint frowned, "Retreat without a fight? Is that really our only option? Surely there must be another way to defend that place."

Salter shook her head. "No, Sir Geraint. This retreat is not a sign of cowardice or surrender. It is a strategic move to preserve our forces for the upcoming counterattack."

Agravain glanced at her, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before his expression returned to its usual calm. "As expected of the Second Majesty's alternate self. So, do you know what our next move should be?"

"Don't call me by such a cumbersome title, Sir Agravain," Salter said, frowning in annoyance. After a moment, she continued, "The giants have already taken our stronghold, and based on their demonstrated military prowess, it's not difficult to predict their next move. With Sir Galahad's defeat, we have completely lost the initiative. Our only viable option at this point is to gather our remaining troops and select a champion to launch a targeted offensive, countering the giants' invasion plan before they can consolidate their gains."

"Mm, not bad!" Agravain nodded. Even someone as strict as him couldn't help but look at Salter with admiration. She truly possessed the same military aptitude as the Second Majesty.

Agravain turned to face Shirou, his expression sincere. "My king, please summon her. At this point, our only option and chance of victory lies in summoning her. You know that she is the only candidate capable of carrying out this task."

The room fell silent, the eyes of every knight landing on Shirou, waiting with bated breath for his response.

Geraint, his voice filled with a mix of hope and urgency, spoke up. "My king, I wholeheartedly agree with Sir Agravain. Second Majesty's ability to lead our troops against seemingly insurmountable odds is unquestionable. If anyone can lead the soldiers in this counterattack, it is her."

After a few moments, the others finally reacted, earnestly advising, "Yes, my king, please summon her."