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Final battle of Camelot still continued (215)
🕑 Added 2023-07-25 14:30:31 +0000 UTC“Stop!” Ainz stepped forward as Artoria's spear glinted in her hands, interested in her words and remarks.
“Wait a second, what exactly did you want to say about saving humanity and your plan!?”
Ainz had been preparing for this confrontation for a long time, honing the best of his excuses, remembering the most appropriate phrases and copious visualization training. And yet, at the last step, where he was to confront the big bad and after one big battle solve the Singularity, he had committed the greatest mistake!
Ainz had indeed made a mistake and disrupted someone's elaborate plan to resolve the Singularity!
Taking a step towards Arthuria Ainz looked at her seriously, inwardly trying to quickly put together a well-thought-out plan of action from his practiced, thought out phrases and actions. How to get Arthuria's plan to resolve the Singularity back on track? How to justify himself to her, to his subordinates, to Chaldea? Should he have stopped fighting right now… Wait.
Or was it all a lie, and really Arthuria was just trying to confuse him at the moment?
After all, ever since the Rome Singularity Ainz was always looking out for the various plans of the Demon Gods, wary of a conspiracy in the corners. The America Singularity also showed him that things were not as simple as it seems, there are figures in the Singularity that have their own agenda that might even solve the Singularity on their own.
Of course, whether they would be successful or not remains to be seen.
This Singularity, Ainz thought, was the more simple one, in fact, he thought that it was more like his first one, where a single large enemy was to be defeated for the Singularity to be solved. Was he mistaken somewhere? Could it be the Assassins, the ones that were responsible for the Singularity? It was already quite dubious to trust Assassins in the first place, after all… Of course, it’s also possible that ‘solving’ the Singularity here meant killing everyone.
‘Join me, and we'll rule the world!’ was often part of the standard options for completing some quest in YGGDRASIL, and extremely often, they’re the wrong option to pick.
Medb, who had previously prepared herself for battle, as much as she could, though it really doesn’t look like it. That is, her ‘fully prepared’ position was leaning back on a newly summoned throne, looking to the world as if she was simply lounging on her throne without a worry in the world. This Medb, who was already prepared to unleash her strongest attack, simply looked at Ainz and chose to do nothing, following Ainz’s lead.
At this moment, actually in a lot of times, he was grateful that he had such an unbreakable reputation as a genius, boss, commander and all that, as Medb didn't even raise an eyebrow in bewilderment. Medb truly believed that, if Ainz did something, then there was a reason for it.
Arthuria, however, did not possess such a favorable predisposition. Though, she still decided not to attack Ainz instantly when he found himself almost defenseless in front of her, well, at least in her eyes. Possible allies or not, Ainz would never allow himself to relax on the battlefield. Despite not attacking, she hadn’t lowered her horn-like spear, only pointing it at Ainz in a more than unfriendly gesture.
The perceived disrespect to her beloved caused Medb to let out a sort of growl, ill-suited to her features and high voice, and for Ainz himself to prepare for an incoming attack.
“I see no point in talking to you.” Arthuria's voice was cold, but not as cold as the voice of… Arthuria? That Ainz knew.
Ainz made a note to pick up another distinction between the two in the future, temporarily deciding to call Arthuria of Chaldea ‘Black’ and the Arthuria in front of him ‘Goddess’ in his mind. Either way, the voice of the Goddess was cold, but not imbued with the cold, almost arrogant disdain, of Black. But rather it was empty, detached, as if the speaker was simply repeating memorized phrases, perhaps not even understanding the meaning of the words spoken, or not knowing the language she spoke.
“A Fight for the Survival of mankind… A worthy goal to meet death in battle trying to fulfill it.”
At these words, Ainz could only frown. No, of course he had no problem with fighting Goddess, but, to be honest, it was the first time he had encountered someone in the Singularity who was trying to resolve the Singularity on their own. And more importantly, who he was hindering by his actions. Besides, Ainz wasn't so sure exactly how he was supposed to resolve Singularities anymore.
In the past, he just defeated the opponents that courteously usually showed up in front of him, eventually, took the Grail, and… That was where it somehow ended on its own.
For plans regarding Raid sweeps, which he usually likens the Singularity to, that was usually enough. Though, the developers of YGGDRASIL did like to add one or more extra actions to complete the raid. Delivering an item, a conversation activating a key flag or something similar, and as arcane as some requirements might be, they’re at least clear-cut… To resolve a Singularity, on the other hand?
Ainz wasn’t even sure if any of his actions actually did anything.
But Ainz could not simply turn around and order his Servants to stop, to suddenly backtrack, it’s not like the Goddess’ subordinates would stop trying to kill his Servants just because they want to stop fighting. In fact, for the Goddess the logical move would be to remove any extras in her plans, so Ainz couldn’t just unilaterally decide to stop fighting.
He would need to find a very good reason if he wanted to do that… That and because he was still not sure that the Goddess opposite him was really his ally. In fact, the Goddess hasn’t given any proof that her words are true, which is a problem.
Ainz suspected that the Goddess would not be an easy conversation partner. The spear aimed directly at him also probably didn't help matters, Medb is still gnashing her teeth warning to attack, only being held back because Ainz hadn’t ordered her to attack. Sure, the Goddess was not attacking at the moment, maybe because Ainz also hadn’t initiated hostility, but she did not show in any way that she was relaxed either.
Rather, it seems as if she was simply judging the battlefield, waiting for an opportune moment, fearing that if she attacked against Ainz, she would be trapped.
A perfectly valid approach in a battle against any Player in YGGDRASIL, especially when one lacks information against their opponent, against Ainz, however under the current circumstances… It was extremely unproductive.
Ainz in turn paused at that thought. It was clear to him that according to the previous Singularities, he simply had to kill the Goddess to clear this Singularity. But if she wasn't lying after all? If she did have her own plan, what if had he destroyed it by his actions?
It would be a very well-thought-out plan by the Demon Pillars.
The silent confrontation between the two sides dragged on, moment by moment, before the Goddess finally deigned to open her mouth. “I see now… The demise of humanity is not enough for you. You wish to see my kind at the moment when the last crumb of hope is destroyed… When all my preparations are useless. I did not expect otherwise.”
‘If I knew what you and Hassan were talking about, things would be a lot easier…’ Ainz almost rolled his eyes irritably before he schooled himself, he doubted that the Goddess would appreciate him mocking her. But, right now is no better, frozen between two decisions, attack or try to make the taciturn Goddess, actually explain herself when she doesn’t want to, and risk letting Medb witness his uncertainty.
There was a tense silence in the air for a few seconds before the Goddess made the first move.
Fortunately or not, she chose not to deliver a lengthy monologue explaining her plans and the secrets of the Singularity, but rather an attack aimed at Ainz. Instantly, as if teleporting, she appeared at his side with her spear drawn to strike, with speed considerably fast even for Ainz, who was accustomed to the speeds of YGGDRASIL, and struck.
It was quite the well executed first strike.
Fortunately, the magic that Ainz had prepared blocked it, and a counterattack was quickly delivered by Medb. An emerald reflection of a creature appeared behind the Goddess’ back, the golem, as if made out of chiseled shimmering crystal, struck, with a blade that seemed to be created in unison with its entire body.
However, of course, it was impossible to deal with the Goddess so easily, she did not even turn towards the attacker, easily waving her hand as if to drive away a pesky fly. The wave generated by that hand movement was incongruous to the lightness of the action, it was like a blast wave hitting Medb's artistically created sculpture, shattering it instantly into hundreds of thousands of tiny shards, grinding it into sand. Immediately, the figure melted away before the sound of shattering glass could be heard.
Medb paid no attention to such a thing, either, she has many more in stock. Two, three, then five, and ten, and in the blink of an eye the entire throne room was filled with shimmering warriors and illusions, each one like a work of art. Medb's favorite emerald, giving way to all the shimmering colors of the rainbow. It was as if each warrior were made of a different kind of gem, from the whitish-transparent diamond to colors so strange and vivid that they seemed to have no place in the human world at all.
The next movement of the spear of the Goddess, prepared for a new blow against Ainz, instantly generated upward currents of air to counter this.
The rumbling and whistling of cutting wind, which appeared not even as a consequence of the Goddess’ action, but only as a side effect of the swing of the Goddess herself. The clinking of glass was practically deafening as the rush of air was like a typhoon, grinding away at the crystal warriors.
The room now cleared, the Goddess’ spear was once again pointed at Ainz.
Ainz himself, however, had not stood idly by all this time. Casting his spells, chains of weaved bones erupted from the ground, crashing into the Goddess's legs and arms, entangling them without any tenderness to the target. If an ordinary man had been in the Goddess's place, even though this spell was one of Ainz's many spells aimed at limiting mobility rather than inflicting damage, they would have died in a very gruesome way. Their limbs, wrapped in bone chains, would have turned into a bloody dust and pulp under the pressure of the chains like a squeezed ketchup packet.
However, that would have been true for an ordinary person, and the Goddess was neither ordinary nor even human, and so the chains clamped on her body were able to stop her only for a second, no more than that. A second later, the Goddess, whose body had been struck by the blade of another illusory, but no less dangerous, warrior, jerked to the side, with the chains, following after her. The previously immaculate throne room was now buffeted by dust and debris.
That second of time was more than enough for Ainz, as he retreated a decent distance away and looked at the Goddess thoughtfully now already free of her bindings.
Perhaps the ideal thing would be not to kill her at this moment, but to try to immobilize her and ask her about her plans for resolving the Singularity… But at the same time, it would be too stupid to expose himself to blows just for the sake of it. She could be lying, after all, and besides, it was a little too late for Ainz to just shrug, call off the Servants, and say, ‘Now to negotiate.’ On the other hand, Ainz didn't want to just kill her either, if not to resolve the current Singularity, then at least to have information for the future.
So, teleporting away from the Goddess, forcing her to stop before switching her attacks to a much less likely target to escape, Medb, Ainz nodded, reaching a decision.
Of course, he would try to stop the Goddess' attacks, ideally in order to arrange a dialogue with her. If that failed, and he had to deal with her in a more permanent manner, either to help one of the Servants or simply because the battle with her was starting to drag on, he would finish her off.
Nodding to himself imperceptibly, Ainz made a decision, before focusing his attention on the Goddess once more.
He would do his best to disarm her… But not too much. If the Goddess is destined to die, well, it wasn't a great loss that Ainz can't take.
***
The luminous gleam of Gawain's blade could make others fall down before the splendor and power of the Sun's blade. A pillar of flame rising to the heavens, a shard of the power of magic, proof of the greatness of the Knight of Camelot, the blade called the ‘brother’ of Excalibur in the hands of the ‘invincible Knight’ Gawain.
For most ordinary, insofar as the word was applicable at all, magi, simply hearing of such a thing was enough. At most, after one glance at the shining shard of the Sun in the hands of a Knight of Camelot to instantly surrender, to repent of all their sins and admit defeat. Of course, reneging on that promise as soon as they’re an appreciable distance away from the source of danger – Magi are Magi, after all.
Even those who would have chosen to maintain their arrogance in the face of impending doom, be they magi, Servants or otherwise, meeting the blade with their heads held high, but also with no doubts about their end.
However, Ozymandias the Great was neither the former nor the latter.
Looking at Gawain's blade shining with the Sun, he did not even bother to wrinkle his face in contemptuous disgust at Gawain and his ‘stolen’ ability. The Knight of the Sun had no right to this title from the beginning, and therefore had no right to spoil Ozymandias' mood, and even less to distort his beautiful face with a grimace of disgust.
Neither, however, dare stupidity cloud Ozymandias' mind, and so he did not allow his contempt to cloud his gaze and mind, accepting death in his carelessness.
Then, Gawain's roaring solar flame crashed a moment later into the huge figure of the sphinx summoned by Ozymandias. The monstrous creature, capable of making any Servant retreat at its mere sight and aura of power, clashed against the blade of the Sun. In its wake, the dust and sand turned to glass for hundreds of meters around from the mere heat of the flame.
The clash sent a blast wave around them, but no cloud of dust rose up following it, nor was the howl and scraping of metal and flesh heard. The dust that should have been raised by the blast wave was instantly burned away, leaving not even a chance to hide the figure of the collision between the two incarnations of the Sun from view.
The blast wave struck so quickly that it did not have time to form into sound before it was over, and when it did, it was not like the sound of an explosion or a collision, but a celestial thunder. It was as if an angry King of the Gods had looked with fury at the world beneath his feet and decided to destroy whatever it had caught his ire.
The two solar fires collided simultaneously to produce a flash – the blindingly bright glow of Gawain's blade collided with the silver-black violet glow of the mighty Sphinx. Combined with the burning flames that struck in all directions, the light consumed the world around them for a moment, it was as if a second sun had appeared.
This state of affair did not last long, however. The veil of light that seemed to have engulfed the whole world receded a moment later, and the silver and gold glare that struck in all directions turned into soft reflections before, along with the fading thunder, disappeared into nothingness.
Revealing Gawain, on whose face several large drops of sweat rolled down, the black and purple Sphinx, howling a fierce and pain-filled howl, as an open wound scorched blacker than its entire body was cut into its side.
Ozymandias, sitting calmly on his barque, looked neither surprised nor angry, but seemed even a little bored, watching the circus troupe perform before him and in his honor. As if the clash between the king of all Sphinxes and the invincible knight was at best a small amusement that he liked to watch to brighten his evenings.
Ozymandias' gaze traveled to the wounded sphinx, who took a shuddering step back, staggering a little as if reliving the pain of the blow, before turning back his attention to Gawain.
Ozymandias then uttered the greatest praise he could bestow upon Gawain. "I expected a more pitiful sight from a thief who wished to appropriate the title of my knight for himself.”
To Ozymandias it was perhaps one of the most distinguished compliments that he could bestow from his own hand, it was an acknowledgment of his opponent's strength. In a sense even an acknowledgment of the right, in a small way, to Gawain’s title as Knight of the Sun.
Still, it was the maximum that Ozymandias could bestow upon Gawain.
Though wounding the sphinx, the king of all sphinxes, was, in a sense, a great achievement in itself, no less an achievement than wounding any legendary dragon. For Ozymandias, such a feat did not garner in anything more than a patronizing praise for Gawain.
After all, even if from the perspective of any legend such an accomplishment, wounding a powerful creature might be a great feat – here and now, standing against Ozymandias, Gawain had accomplished little more than to slightly amuse Ozymandias himself.
A wounded Sphinx was, after all, just a wounded sphinx, it’s not even dead yet. Ozymandias could destroy the enemy now, or he could send the Sphinx, who’s quite capable of continuing the battle, albeit not in its full strength. For Gawain, however, the situation was less ideal.
He had only been able to repel the Sphinx’s attack, inflicting damage on Ozymandias' Noble Phantasm through the use of his own Noble Phantasm. Now that this trump card has been used, he can’t use it again in close succession, far longer than it would take for Ozymandias to finish him off.
It could even be said that this was the end of Gawain.
So Ozymandias did not even pay attention to the furious roar with which the king of all Sphinxes rushed forward, seeking revenge on the knight who had wounded him. Ozymandias simply continued watching coldly as the huge, massive creature created from the purple and scarlet void and the heat of newborn stars attacked again, providing yet another great favor to Gawain. For not just anyone could have Ozymandias the Great himself watching their final moments.
Wasn't that in itself a great favor to his opponent?
Certainly under the light of the midday sun Gawain was at his strongest, but his opponent was not another Servant, but a legendary monster, as powerful as any dragon. And there was a reason for Dragon slayers to hold a place of honor at the top of the pantheon of all Heroes.
But, Gawain would not be himself if he were to give up now. In fact, if he did, he would actually disappoint Ozymandias, enough to even worsen his mood.
And so, facing the charging Sphinx, intent on ripping Gawain in two, Gawain raised his blade to catch the attack, and it was a close one. Even with his guard raised, the crushing paw of the Sphinx forced him to take a step backward, desperately trying to extinguish the inertia of the blow, plowing furrows with the soles of his foot. The Sphinx's second blow, forced Gawain to clench his teeth, suppressing the unchivalrous groan of pain from the claws and the heat that instantly fused his flesh and the metal armor of the invincible knight.
Before the Sphinx could launch its next attack, Gawain tried to strike back, and though his blade, Excalibur Galatine, easily withstood the temperature of the Sphinx, blazing with heat like a newborn star, Gawain's hands could boast no such defense. The heat emanating from the Sphinx's body fused Gawain's flesh to the metal gloves with ease, causing Gawain’s blow to do far more damage to himself than to his opponent. But even that desperate attack was for naught.
A moment later, the Sphinx's huge paw swept Gawain off the earth, causing his flesh to crack like a toy, with the second blow soon after crushing Gawain's armor. Gawain no longer has the strength to stand his ground, being thrown away like a kite.
The Sphinx's next action was to tear Gawain apart, and that would end the journey of the ‘Knight of the Sun’.
For Ozymandias, such an outcome was not surprising, anyone who stood in the way of the King of Kings would die, there was no other outcome to this battle. But at least Gawain could be honored by the fact that the King had to put in the effort to kill him. Few had had the honor of seeing more than a stroke of sunlight from his barque before they perished.
And thus Gawain should be proud of his achievements, Ozymandias the Great would even be gracious enough to allow him to say that Ozymandias himself had deigned to show him a hundredth of his true strength.
However, Gawain had not earned a favor so great that Ozymandias himself would personally observe the last moments of his life.
And therefore, turning away from the figure of the knight on his last legs, Ozymandias ordered his floating barque, now somewhat mangled under the blows of Gawain, but still functional, to fly towards his original destination. The thought did elicit a frown to appear on Ozymandias’ immaculate visage.
Ozymandias was somewhat sad to appear before his adversaries in his mangled vessel. But no blemish of this world could hide Ozymandias' greatness, and so even in the mangled barque Ozymandias the Magnificent looked better than all the other kings of the world in noble purple.
But it was at the moment when Ozymandias turned his back to Gawain that he sensed a surprising impropriety in the state of the world.
His Sphinx, his Noble Phantasm that was certainly wounded but more than capable of finishing its battle, and had even managed to prove it by turning Gawain into a definite dead man in just a few blows, just died. It had only managed to let out a strange howl, more out of surprise than anything else, before ceasing to exist altogether.
Ozymandias turned back a moment later, finding with his gaze the only one who could end the existence of his Sphinx, for all the seeming impossibility of such a thing.
Gawain, who only a few moments ago had seemed defeated, on death's doorstep, fused to metal as proof of his defeat, stood firmly on his feet, holding Excalibur Galatine aloft in his hands. The viscous black and purple blood of the King of all Sphinxes dripping from its blade.
Gawain himself, who had recently looked like a mutilated doll and a living corpse, stood still, now no longer wounded or even out of breath. His hand clutched his blade, and his gaze was fixed on Ozymandias himself, who had designed to shift his gaze to the body of the Sphinx beneath Gawain's feet.
Could Gawain have killed his Sphinx? For all the difficulty of such a thing, it was not something completely unacceptably impossible. If Gawain had chosen to endure the pain of burning flesh and struck at the right moment, perhaps he might have succeeded in cutting off the Sphinx king's head or piercing its heart. Though it would not have been easy or simple, Gawain himself, even under the bright midday sun, would have suffered for his audacity.
Yet still, despite the seeming impossibility, Gawain stood over the dead body of the Sphinx King, its body still so hot that it melted the sand beneath it to glass. There was only one justification for this oddity.
If even the midday Sun could not have Gawain enduring the great heat from the Sphinx, that in turn meant only that something even more powerful than this ability of Gawain's had come into play.
“Saint of the Numerals.” Ozymandias said slowly, before shifting his gaze from the figure of Gawain to the midday Sun. “Not surprising, it is indeed somewhat difficult to tell the time at the moment.”
“Three hours at dawn, three hours at dusk.” Gawain smiled as he uttered these words, before weighing the blade in his hand, as if he was trying to see if there were any defects on his weapon after slaying the Sphinx.
“The Sun can hang over me as long as I like, but that ability is only dependent on time.”
Gawain was a powerful knight, one of the strongest in Camelot. Under the midday sun, he was three times stronger than he was before, on his belt he carried Excalibur's ‘brother’, a Noble Phantasm that was barely inferior to Excalibur, holding the power of the Sun itself.
But as if all of these things weren't enough, he possessed another overpowered ability for a single knight.
Saint of the Numerals. Ancient legend and belief linked Gawain to the holy numbers, for three hours at every dawn and three hours at every sunset, Gawain was…
Invulnerable.
Simple and unadorned, Gawain was invulnerable for six hours a day, a quarter of every day.
It was as if someone had simply wished to endow the Sun Knight with all possible powers at once, not particularly caring how such an invincible opponent could be defeated. Then again, that wasn’t so strange, after all, that was the idea behind legendary Heroes – the capstone of every legend. Stories of legend, from the one that tells them, would not create a hero that could defeat an enemy in one story and retreat before an invincible foe in another.
No, the legend of the Knights of Camelot created exactly such ‘legendary’ heroes, those that could not be defeated by any blade or magic at all… There’s a reason why most of them died only at the hands of other Knights of the Round Table.
However, where other Servants would have felt despair at facing an invincible monster, Ozymandias the Great felt anger. Not from powerlessness, though – quite the opposite.
“Rejoice, Gawain.” Ozymandias addressed his enemy by their name for the first time. "For you have done what many would have thought impossible. You have incurred my wrath… And at the same time, you will be a worthy target for my might.”
An invincible knight? Before Ozymandias the Great, there were no invincible enemies, no unruly empires, no insurmountable obstacles.
“Ramesseum Tentyris,” Ozymandias' words were short, yet filled with power and anger.
Ramses wanted to deal with his adversary and prove to him, once and for all, that it was not enough to be called ‘Knight of the Sun’ to display the full might of the Sun.
To actually experience the power of the Sun, you had to be a pharaoh.
***
The first Hassan is the living synonym for Death. He was the very embodiment of the inevitable final judgment that awaits everyone at the end of life, no one could escape his gaze, and every swing of his blade meant the end of a book of life. Where his path passed, someone else's ended.
That was the essence of the First Hassan.
Long ago, he was but a nameless old man that raised his blade in the name of his Lord, and has simply not lowered it since. His actions caused countless deaths, until terror became synonymous with his title. And as his name faded into the sands of history, along with his body, it left only his armor moving under the influence of undeath, and purpose.
Thus was born the First Hassan, the creator of the sect of the Hashashin, the origin of the very word, ‘assassin’.
Unlike so many other Servants, to look at him was not a grace, to look at him meant death. To face him in battle was no honor – it simply meant death. To strike him was no meanness, to strike him meant death.
Death and only death awaited whoever faced the First Hassan, an inevitable death that could not be held allayed, just as the funeral bell that tolled every time the First Hassan raised his blade could not be unrung.
And yet, Lancelot was alive.
Spinning desperately in place, his flesh being torn open with each blow, and yet Lancelot was still alive. With all his strength, all his gifted and borrowed abilities, strained in a futile attempt to hold on to the edge of doom, Lancelot was still alive. Still, despite the absolute lose-lose and hopelessness of his situation, he was still alive. A desperate, senseless struggle, but he was still alive, a second, two, three, five, who but Lancelot could boast that he had lasted ten seconds in a battle against the First Hassan? Twenty? Thirty?
Lancelot had no doubt that he would lose, die, and not survive a battle with the First Hassan, whatever was on his side…
But thirty, forty, fifty seconds of battle with the First Hassan, that was already a result no other Servant or hero could boast of, wasn't it? And that meant that Lancelot had already earned his title of ‘knight of all knights’.
And so, continuing his desperate defense, oblivious to the very possibility of attacking his target, Lancelot frantically moved his blade, clawing out second after second of his continued existence. Fifty-two seconds… Fifty-seven… A full minute
For over a minute, Lancelot had lasted in battle with the First Hassan, and hadn't even lost his limbs – wasn't that an achievement!
However, this battle could not go on forever, not even for long. Blow after blow even as he survived, Lancelot realized that he was losing. In fact, he had lost the moment the First Hassan decided to take it into his own hands to destroy Lancelot, but the moment when his head would roll off his shoulders had not yet come… But it was approaching all the same, in all its unstoppable momentum.
Lancelot's gaze slid around the battlefield, he could afford to look away from his opponent. What was the point of scrutinizing the First Hassan if Lancelot knew he was dead no matter how closely he watched his opponent?
Lancelot's gaze traveled down the ranks of his opponents, Arthuria… Galahad… Bedivere….
The last figure caused Lancelot to freeze for a moment, for which he paid for when a huge slash that bled scarlet landed on his body.
Lancelot had little time, mere moments, perhaps less than a few seconds left before his death and… As pathetic as it sounded, but now, once again under the command of his king, Lancelot wanted to show his loyalty in at least some small thing. To take one enemy with him to the grave, even if it was a futile gesture.
It was nothing more than a pathetic attempt at self-satisfaction, an excuse to himself that ‘this time I fought for King Arthur to the end’. Even knowing that it was just for such a paltry reason, Lancelot wished to do so.
Lancelot was not certain that Bedivere was the most dangerous of all opponents. Moreover, he knew nothing of this Bedivere, only that he had once known of a knight with that same name. And that with his actions, the simple touch of his hand, had somehow managed to dispel the Gift of the Goddess that Tristan possessed.
Was he the most dangerous of the Goddess' opponents at the moment? Perhaps not, but he was definitely the most unpredictable, able to change the fighting field with one careless move. And also the most vulnerable to attack.
And so, abandoning his defenses, Lancelot rushed forward in a last desperate attempt to perform one last ‘heroic’ feat in the service of his King. If attacking someone in ambush could be called anything ‘heroic’, but that was the story of his life, wasn’t it?
Overcoming the Servants' defenses was not difficult, especially after sacrificing his own defenses and exposing himself to the First Hassan's attack, giving him his back and especially when they weren’t expecting such suicidal move.
Lancelot's steel grip closed on Bedivere's silver hand…
And in a mechanical wrench, ripped it from the knight's shoulder.
The scream that rang out across the battlefield, however, was drowned a moment later in the rush of sensations, memories, thoughts, and words in Lancelot's mind. In his last moments, Lancelot had found the answer why this arm has the power to dispel the Goddess’ gifts.
"Excalibur…"
Lancelot's skill, 'Knight of Owner', began to work to its fullest, feelings, memories, thoughts and feelings, all the things that connected Excalibur to King Arthur, to Bedivere…
To Lancelot.
Lancelot's steel grip clutched at Bedivere's silver hand, at Excalibur, burning out words and thoughts forgotten and never known in Lancelot's memory, an eternity of wandering, hundreds of battles, an unfulfilled duty…
But even that was too little for Lancelot.
“It seems that your work here is done, old man.” Jacques' voice broke through the shroud of incomprehensible thoughts and sensations, making Lancelot shudder. Jacques, she’s!
Whatever last thought Lancelot could’ve had was lost as he was swallowed by an abyssal ichor.
“You might return to your ruined fortress, I will take care of the rest. Vendredi Treize!”
Comments
Kevin L
He tried talking but the “Goddess” didn’t care for talking started the battle without pause and so his plan at the moment is try to restrain her to interrogate later. If that’s not possible then he’ll take her out.
NOBADI
Wait a second, so Ainz decided to confront the misunderstanding by yelling Stop and then staring like a dead fish to nowhere for 20 minutes?
Abaddon Lucifer
Thx man good chapter
