"This... this is... a Reality Marble?!"
Even the worldly, experienced Medea couldn't hide the shock on her face.
A grand magecraft that rewrote the world!
This nondescript Archer actually possessed such a terrifying ability!
Even Sasaki Kojirou halted his attack, scanning his surroundings warily. On this wasteland, every single sword gave off the aura of a Noble Phantasm.
Yet on Seiji Fujiwara's face, there was only fervent appreciation.
"What a magnificent sight... a graveyard of swords, empty of everything, built from countless ideals."
He even rose to his feet and clapped softly.
"Truly... it's beautiful."
Archer paid no mind to his ravings.
In the instant the Reality Marble unfolded, he had already pulled his two most familiar short swords, one black and one white, in reverse grip from the ground.
His figure became a streak of red lightning, lunging straight at Medea, who stood frozen by the sight!
"You're first! Witch!"
In the world of Unlimited Blade Works, his speed, strength, and Projection were all amplified to their limits!
But in the instant his blade was about to touch Medea.
A purple figure, like a phantom, blocked his path.
It was Rider, Medusa!
In her hand she gripped a chain glinting with cold light.
"Your opponent is me."
Medusa's voice was icy, without a trace of emotion.
-
The real world.
In the vast cavern beneath Ryuudou Temple.
A delighted, all-going-to-plan smile appeared on Seiji Fujiwara's face.
He could "see" it.
Within the cauldron of black mud, Artoria's proud, "king's" soul had completely abandoned its resistance.
Like a fallen fortress.
"Good."
He praised softly, like a craftsman appraising a work nearing completion.
"Then, let's begin the final dyeing."
A thought stirred in his mind.
The cauldron of black mud, once still as death, began to churn again!
This time, it was no longer violent and chaotic.
Instead, like an army that had received its sovereign's command, it began to corrode and remake that pure, sacred body sunken at the bottom of the pool, in the most thorough way, from soul to flesh, with extreme efficiency and purpose!
"Ngh... ah..."
An unconscious, pained moan escaped Artoria's lips.
Her Saint Graph was being forcibly flooded, stretched open, and reshaped by an immense, malice-filled magical energy!
The silver-white armor that symbolized her glory and protection, formed of magical energy, began to creak under the strain.
Pitch-black lines, like blood vessels, crawled out from the seams of the armor, spreading rapidly and covering that sacred silver-white.
Breastplate, vambraces, greaves...
The color of the armor shifted before the eye, from the "silver" that symbolized light to the "black" that represented despair and emptiness.
The once ornate, intricate decorations turned savage and aggressive.
The edges of the skirt armor sharpened like blades.
"Not enough yet."
Seiji Fujiwara raised an eyebrow slightly.
He could feel that a certain power was still stubbornly resisting the corrosion of the black mud.
His gaze fell upon the golden holy sword lying quietly beside Artoria.
Excalibur.
The "Sword of Promised Victory."
This god-forged weapon, hammered by the planet and entrusted with the "Hope" of countless humans, was now radiating a soft, steadfast golden light, like a small but impregnable fortress, guarding its master, putting up the final resistance.
"Such... a noisy sword."
Seiji Fujiwara's eyes went cold.
"Full of naive, unrealistic ideals."
"Since even its master has given up resisting."
"Then what right do you, a mere tool, have to argue here?"
[System directive: Lock onto target Excalibur's core concept, Protection.]
[Executing Concept Pollution protocol!]
[Implanting distorted concept one: The object of protection, revised to Seiji Fujiwara alone.]
[Implanting distorted concept two: The method of protection, revised to eliminating all enemies that pose a threat to Seiji Fujiwara.]
A power of "kingship" belonging to Seiji Fujiwara, more domineering and more unreasonable, struck precisely at the core concept of that golden holy sword through the medium of the black mud!
A wail rang out as Excalibur cried in anguish!
That brilliant golden light, representing "Hope," began to flicker violently, dimming and brightening like a candle guttering in the wind.
A layer of pitch-black filth, like maggots clinging to bone, began to spread wildly from the hilt toward the blade!
The gold was retreating step by step.
The black was pressing forward inch by inch.
This was a war between "ideal" and "reality"!
A slaughter on the conceptual level between "protecting all beings" and "protecting one person"!
In the end...
When the last trace of gold was completely devoured by that domineering pitch-black.
The entire holy sword shuddered violently.
All of its light vanished.
In its place was a death-still, bottomless black that seemed capable of swallowing all light.
Across the blade, countless ominous veins of magical energy began to surface, dark red and pulsing like blood vessels.
The shape of the crossguard turned more savage.
A pulse of magical energy, more immense, more pure, and more concentrated than before, radiated from the blade.
Having cast off the heavy, broad constraint of "protecting all beings," its power instead became more focused, more... lethal.
It was no longer a "holy sword."
It was the most terrifying "demon sword," swung only to carry out one person's will.
The moment the holy sword fell utterly.
Artoria's tightly shut eyes snapped open.
Those once clear, emerald-green eyes, like the sky after rain, were now replaced by a cold, utterly emotionless... "gold."
A color like gold itself, cold, noble, yet hollow.
On her face, all the confusion, all the pain, all the struggle, had vanished.
In their place was an absolute, death-still "nothing."
Like a most precise puppet that had just been programmed.
Slowly, she rose from the pool of black mud.
The viscous black mud slid off her pitch-black, savage armor without staining a single inch of it.
Her hair, once dazzling as sunlight, had now lost all its brilliance, faded to a dull, grayish flaxen hue.
The only thing unchanged was her snow-white skin, as if it had never seen the sun.
Black and white.
Forming the most extreme, most striking contrast.
Full of a fallen, forbidden beauty.
She reached out and grasped the demon sword that had turned equally black.
In that moment, sword and master achieved a brand-new "synchronization" thick with an ominous air.
"How does it... feel?"
Seiji Fujiwara's voice, carrying a playful smile, echoed through the cavern.
"...My... King."
The black King of Knights slowly turned her head and "looked" toward the man standing at the edge with those cold golden eyes.
Her lips moved slightly.
And spoke the first words after her "rebirth."
"I have come in answer to your summons."
Her voice had lost all emotional rise and fall, like the purest ice.
"...I ask you, are you my Master?"
-
Hearing that familiar question, now so jarringly out of place.
The smile on Seiji Fujiwara's face grew even more radiant.
"No."
He shook his head.
He walked slowly to the edge of the pool of black mud, reached out, and crooked a finger at the black King of Knights standing in the center of the pool.
"I am not your Master."
His voice carried an irresistible authority belonging to an "owner."
"I am your... King."
"And you..."
"...are the sharpest sword, belonging to me alone."
In the black King of Knights' cold golden eyes, a glimmer of light seemed to pass.
As if understanding this brand-new "definition."
The next second.
Without any hesitation, without any question.
She stepped forward, treading across that pitch-black surface of mud, walking step by step until she stood before Seiji Fujiwara.
And then...
With a heavy thud, she knelt on one knee.
She lowered that once-noble head, the head that had refused to bow to anyone, laid the black demon sword in her hands flat across her knee, and offered it up with both hands.
In the most humble, most complete posture.
She offered everything to her new master.
Her loyalty.
Her power.
Her existence.
"...As you command."
Her cold voice rang out again, but the title had already been revised.
"My... King."
"Haha... hahahahaha!"
Looking at the scene before him, Seiji Fujiwara finally couldn't hold back and burst into hearty, exhilarated laughter.
To take a noble, stubborn, idealism-filled hero-king, from spirit to flesh, from conviction to power, and shatter her completely and utterly! Then remake her!
To make her cast off her laughable name.
To make her abandon her heavy past.
To turn her into a killing puppet, the most perfect, most powerful, most obedient, existing only to carry out his will!
That thrill of trampling the "sacred" beneath his heel, then staining it with his own color!
It was ten thousand times more exhilarating than conquering those mere mortals in his last world!
[Ding!]
The system's chime sounded right on cue.
[Congratulations, Host! You have successfully remade the core target, Artoria Pendragon!]
[Target has been transformed into a brand-new form: Saber Alter (exclusive to Seiji Fujiwara)!]
[Conquest progress: 100% (fully complete)]
[Final reward settlement in progress...]
[Settlement complete! Congratulations, Host, on receiving the final reward, the permanent ability Heart of the Dragon (False)!]
[Ability description: The Host has obtained a vast magical core derived from the bloodline of the Red Dragon. Your total magical energy is increased by 500%, your magical energy recovery speed is increased by 1000%, and you exert an absolute, conceptual-level suppression and domination over all dragon-attribute Heroic Spirits!]
An immense, scorching power erupted inside Seiji Fujiwara in an instant!
He felt as though his Magic Circuits had been replaced by a never-drying, surging, roaring fusion reactor!
In this world, his greatest weakness, magical energy, had been completely made up for!
"Good! Very good!"
Seiji Fujiwara savored the surging power within him with satisfaction.
He lowered his head, reached out, and gently pinched the small, delicate chin of the black King of Knights before him, forcing her to raise her head and meet his eyes with those hollow golden ones.
"From today on, you are no longer Artoria."
"And you are... no longer Saber, either."
He admired the girl's expressionless face, lovely as if carved from white jade, and spoke slowly in a wicked tone, like one bestowing a divine name:
"Your new name is... Alter."
"You are my number one collectible."
"Have you remembered?"
"...Yes."
The black King of Knights, now named "Alter," answered coldly.
In her eyes there was not the slightest trace of humiliation or resentment.
Only... absolute, complete "obedience."
The "King's" will was her everything.
Looking at his most perfect masterpiece, Seiji Fujiwara's heart was filled with an unprecedented satisfaction.
But...
He knew this was not the end.
This was merely... a beginning.
The Holy Grail War was not yet over.
There was still one most magnificent, most ancient "collectible," waiting in some corner of this city for him to "hunt."
"Alter."
Seiji Fujiwara released his hand and slowly straightened up.
"Stand."
The black King of Knights immediately obeyed and rose, attending at his side like a silent statue.
"It's time..."
Seiji Fujiwara's gaze seemed to pierce through the heavy strata of rock, looking toward the city above, shrouded in the cover of night.
The corner of his mouth split into a savage smile full of bloodlust and possessiveness.
"...to go greet our final guest."
The very instant Seiji Fujiwara finished naming his new collectible.
A deafening roar erupted!
Like an earth dragon turning over, like the wrath of the heavens!
The entire cavern beneath Ryuudou Temple, no, the whole of Mount Enzou, began to tremble violently and wildly!
Dust rained down from the rock walls, and the immense magical energy in the air was churned into a raging vortex.
A terrifying aura, so immense it was suffocating, so ancient it seemed to come from the dawn of creation, brimming with supreme majesty and divinity, descended abruptly over Fuyuki City like an awakened primordial beast!
The mere descent of this aura forcibly stained the sky with an ominous gold, as though the entire world had been dragged into the domain of a king who tolerated no equal!
"This... this feeling... impossible..."
Medea, attending behind Seiji Fujiwara, her pretty face that always carried a hint of composure, was now drained of all color, white as paper.
Her body trembled uncontrollably from the instinctive fear of "god" branded deep in her soul, until even remaining standing became agonizingly difficult.
"It's... the King of Heroes... Gilgamesh!"
As a witch of the Age of Gods, she understood better than anyone what this aura meant.
It was not ordinary strength, but an absolute suppression at the level of "rank"!
It was the world's most ancient king, standing at the pinnacle of all Heroic Spirits, all myths! He had gotten serious!
"Oh? So you've finally deigned to crawl out of that gaudy turtle shell of yours?"
Yet facing this pressure, enough to make even an Age of Gods witch tremble, there was not the slightest surprise or tension on Seiji Fujiwara's face.
On the contrary, what flickered in his eyes was the undisguised excitement, greed, and fervor of a hunter watching his long-coveted final target finally step into the trap.