“The so-called Assassins were already dead the moment they stepped into the Queen’s garden.” As Morgan’s cold words fell, the courtyard of the Matou Residence—no, the very concept of the entire space—was displaced.
The originally warm summer night breeze vanished instantly, replaced by a biting cold current enough to freeze the soul.
Countless faint blue light spots emerged in the air; it was the magical dust unique to Fae Britain.
On the walls, among the treetops, and within the shadows.
More than eighty clones of Hassan (Assassin) wearing skull masks lunged toward the banquet in the center.
However, at the very moment they leaped into the air— Crack.
Time seemed to stand still.
One Hassan, who had jumped the highest, saw the dagger in his hand about to touch the edge of the barrier when he suddenly discovered with horror that his body had lost all sensation.
Starting from his fingertips, pale blue ice crystals spread frantically.
In just one second.
His entire being turned into a lifelike ice sculpture in mid-air, even the terrified look in his eyes beneath the mask was perfectly frozen.
“Wha…
at…” The other Hassans tried to retreat, only to find that the ground beneath their feet had turned into mirror-like ice at some unknown point.
Countless sharp ice thorns, like blooming flowers of bramble, pierced out without warning from the ground, the air, and even from their shadows!
Puchi!
Puchi!
Puchi!
The sounds of piercing followed one after another, yet because of the low temperature, not a single drop of blood was spilled.
The red blood turned into ruby-like ice beads the moment it flowed out, clinking as they fell onto the icy surface, playing a bizarre and hauntingly beautiful movement.
This was [Fae Britain: Night of Britain].
It wasn’t a simple Reality Marble, but rather Morgan using her authority as a “Lostbelt King” to forcibly rewrite the surrounding reality into a territory under her dominion.
Here, any creature that defied the Queen’s will found even breathing to be a capital offense.
“Boring.” Morgan stood where she was, not moving a single step.
She merely gently swayed the folding fan in her hand, as if watching a clumsy pantomime.
“As fertilizer, these low-mana mongrels will only give my flowers indigestion.” Snap.
She lightly snapped her fingers.
Those eighty-plus “Hassan ice sculptures” pinned in the air instantly shattered into countless fine ice particles, dissipating into the night wind.
Even their souls were crushed.
Total silence.
Sitting by the wine table, the Conqueror King Iskandar stopped his wine cup in mid-air.
He had been preparing to draw his sword, and was even ready to deploy [Ionian Hetairoi] to teach these Assassins a lesson.
The result?
Before he could even stand up, the battle was already over?
“…Good grief.” Iskandar swallowed hard, the look in his eyes toward Morgan losing some of the dismissiveness toward women and gaining more of the wariness toward the strong: “Brother Saber, this wife of yours…
this level of magecraft is probably approaching the realm of True Magic, isn’t it?” “Hmph.” Although Gilgamesh still maintained his arrogance on the surface, a hint of gloom flashed through his red snake-like pupils.
Even for him, without using Enuma Elish or unleashing the full bombardment of his treasury, it would be difficult to achieve such an “artistic” and “instant” total annihilation.
That woman…
is a massive threat.
“Thank you for the compliment.” Arthur smiled and raised his glass, as if everything that had just happened was merely clearing away a few flies: “Alright, the nuisances are gone.
Let’s continue drinking.” [Ding!
Hostile Servant ‘Assassin (Hundred-Faced Hassan)’ has been annihilated.] [Congratulations to the host for obtaining 4,000 Dimensional Points.] [Achievement Gained: The Queen’s Absolute Domain.] …Meanwhile.
Tohsaka Family Residence, underground workshop.
Clatter.
The red wine glass in Tohsaka Tokiomi’s hand fell to the floor, the dark red liquid staining the expensive carpet.
But he didn’t notice.
He stared fixedly at the transmitter, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.
“Kirei…
what…
what did you say?” Tokiomi’s voice was dry and raspy.
From the shadows, Kotomine Kirei’s emotionless voice came, but to Tokiomi, it sounded like a death knell: “They’ve been wiped out, Teacher.” “Just a moment ago.
All my contracts with Assassin were severed.
Of the eighty clones, not a single one escaped.” “Not even…
a single piece of information was sent back.” “Impossible!
This is impossible!!” Tohsaka Tokiomi clutched his head in a loss of composure, his originally elegant noble poise completely gone.
Although an individual Assassin’s combat power wasn’t strong, there were eighty Heroic Spirits!
Even if the three kings joined forces, they should have been able to cause chaos or at least force out their trump cards!
How could they be wiped out instantly like dust?
“That master of the Matou Family…
and that woman named Morgan…” Fear finally surfaced in Tokiomi’s eyes.
He had always thought he was in control of the situation, believing that as long as he got Gilgamesh to take things seriously, he would win.
But now he realized that he was facing a group of monsters who didn’t follow logic at all.
“This isn’t a Holy Grail War at all…
it’s a one-sided massacre…” …Back at the Matou Family garden.
“The wine has been drunk, the words have been said, and the flies have been swatted.” The Conqueror King Iskandar tilted his head back and drained the last drop of “aurora dew,” wiping his mouth with satisfaction.
He stood up, and the Gordius Wheel once again let out a thunderous roar.
“Tonight was truly enjoyable!” Iskandar looked at Arthur, then at Artoria: “Brother Saber, although your kingly way doesn’t sit well with me, I acknowledge your capacity!
And the little girl over there, though I don’t like your tragic wish, your sword is indeed sharp!” “The next time we meet will be on the battlefield!
At that time, I will use my [Ionian Hetairoi] to test your so-called ‘perfection’ and ‘protection’!” “I look forward to it,” Arthur raised his glass in farewell.
“Hmph.” Gilgamesh also slowly dissipated into spirit particles, but before leaving, his blood-red eyes stared intently at Arthur and Morgan: “Mongrel, and that witch.
Don’t die at the hands of some trash.
Your lives are reserved by this King.
Only this King’s Enuma Elish is worthy of being your funeral bell.” As the two powerful presences departed, the courtyard finally returned to peace.
“Phew…” Artoria let out a long breath, her tense shoulders relaxing.
The amount of information tonight was too much.
Not only was she negated by Iskandar, but she was also affirmed by Arthur, and she had witnessed Morgan’s terrifyingly peerless strength.
“It seems we are the only winners.” Arthur set down his wine glass and looked at Morgan beside him.
At this moment, Morgan’s face was slightly pale because she had just released a large-scale spell.
“Are you tired?” Arthur asked gently.
“How could that be?
This level of…” Morgan was about to retort when her body was suddenly lifted into the air.
Arthur picked her up directly in a “princess carry.” “You!
How insolent!
There are outsiders present…” Morgan looked at Artoria nearby in a panic, her face instantly turning red.
“Saber isn’t an outsider; she’s family.” Arthur said cheekily, then turned to the dumbfounded Artoria and winked: “Saber, you’ve worked hard tonight too.
Get some rest early.
Tomorrow…
is the preparation for the final battle.” After speaking, Arthur carried Morgan toward the house with large strides.
“Since your mana is depleted, we’ll ‘replenish’ it well tonight.” “Shut up!
You pervert!” Although Morgan was scolding him, her hands honestly hooked around Arthur’s neck, burying her head in his chest.
Left in the garden, Artoria watched the pair’s departing backs, then looked at the messy lawn.
She touched her slightly burning cheek and then pressed her hand against her chest.
There, besides the confusion about the future, a seed named “longing” seemed to have been planted.
“Is this…
what it feels like to be favored?” The King of Knights looked at the moon in the night sky and, for the first time, felt that perhaps Britain’s winter could be warm.