A quiet silence hung over the beautiful flower fields of Avalon. In the distance, Rikka stood utterly still with her eyes closed, the air around her small figure vibrating as True Ether gathered around her like a living storm.
A few paces away, Saber stood like a statue. She held Excalibur pointed down, her golden eyes locked on her opponent, honoring her promise to wait.
Despite the tension, Lady Avalon remained completely unbothered.
With a casual wave of her hand, she materialized an elegant chair and a small tea table right in the middle of the meadow, complete with a steaming cup of dark coffee.
Sitting down gracefully, she took a slow sip. A satisfied smile spread across her face-in dreams, coffee never carried any actual flavor, but here in the physical world, the rich, bitter taste was genuine.
"Would you like a cup?" Lady Avalon offered Gilgamesh smoothly.
But Gilgamesh ignored the invitation completely. She stood in silence with her arms crossed, her crimson eyes locked intensely on Rikka as she watched the energy swirl and disappear directly into the child's body.
Half a minute later, Gilgamesh's eyes twitched as she noticed a sudden, sharp shift in the swirling mana.
"She's finished," Gilgamesh said softly.
Instantly, a massive burst of wind erupted from Rikka's position, violently hitting the three of them.
"Kyaahh~!" Lady Avalon let out a surprised yelp. Because she was still sitting relaxed at her table, the sudden gale caught her off guard. The wooden chair was blasted backward, sending her tumbling across the grass while her dark coffee spilled through the air.
Gilgamesh did not seem bothered by the fierce wind. She stood firmly in place, her arms still crossed, refusing to remove her sight from Rikka.
"Ugh!" Saber grunted, quickly raising both of her hands to protect her face. The fierce wind violently whipped the dark fabric of her gothic dress around her legs, but she anchored her feet firmly into the grass, bracing her posture so she would not be pushed back by the sudden shockwave.
Then, the Avalon reacted. All across the endless fields, thousands of glowing petals lifted from their stems.
The flowers floated upward, caught in an unnatural current, and were rapidly sucked toward Rikka.
They began circling her motionless figure, spinning faster and faster. More petals constantly poured into the current, stacking together until they created a massive, towering tornado of flowers that completely hid Rikka from view.
A few seconds later, the wind died down, and the wall of petals gently dispersed into the breeze.
When the scenery cleared, Rikka had changed entirely. The young girl was gone, replaced by a breathtakingly mature woman who stood significantly taller.
She wore a pristine, snow-white kimono wrapped securely around her graceful frame, the stark fabric contrasting vividly against the vibrant meadow.
Her long, black hair cascaded down her back like liquid silk, swaying gracefully in the lingering breeze.
Her face had lost all its childish softness, replaced by sharp, strikingly beautiful features. There was no tension, no bloodlust, and no intent in her expression.
A long, elegant katana rested securely at her hip. Her eyes, once wide with youth, were now serene and unfathomable.
Yet, despite her striking physical transformation, there was a chilling emptiness to her.
Her eyes, once wide with youth, were now dark and completely unreadable.
She did not exude power, confidence, or anything. She radiated nothing at all. Standing in the center of the meadow, she felt like a hollow space in reality-an unsettling, perfect void devoid of any intent, emotion, or presence.
Saber's eyes narrowed, her grip tightening around the hilt of Excalibur Morgan.
As someone used to fighting, she tried to gauge the opponent standing before her, but her Instinct remained entirely silent.
Her Instinct usually guided her by predicting the flow of combat, but right now, it offered no warning of danger or magical energy.
It registered nothing at all. Rikka right now held zero killing intent, zero malice, and zero pre-motion aura.
For Saber's trained senses, reading her movements was like trying to catch a shadow. To Saber, reading her stance was like chasing a shadow. Her posture stiffened, pulling her dark blade closer into a tight, defensive stance as she realized the figure in front of her was completely unreadable.
Nearby, a slow, familiar smirk spread across Gilgamesh's face as she recognized the soul standing before her.
She vividly remembered the annoying, bored teenager who had used her connection to the Root to barge straight into the Throne of Heroes just to mess with her.
Now, watching that same soul manifest a physical form even older and more mature than the brat she knew, Gilgamesh felt a thrill of genuine amusement.
Meanwhile Rikka slowly looked down at her own pale, adult hands, then out at the blooming fields of Avalon.
"This feels... strange," she spoke.
Her voice wasn't the energetic, expressive voice of the eight-year-old child they knew.
It was completely flat. Cold, quiet, and devoid of any human emotion, her words drifted through the air like a hollow breeze.
Forcing her body to age so fast had dragged her Origin straight to the surface. While the real Adult Rikka had grown into her powers naturally over time-learning for years how to balance her human side with her connection to the Root-this instant change offered no safety net.
The sheer concept of "Nothingness" flooded her young mind all at once, washing away her usual bursts of emotion and leaving only a chilling, hollow detachment.
Saber's eyes widened. She was used to a Rikka who was always full of bright, bursting emotions, even when they fighting. Hearing that dead tone sent a sudden chill down her spine.
Though Rikka's mind had submerged into a void, she still held onto the single purpose behind her transformation.
Turning her gaze toward Saber Alter standing in front of her, she rested her hand on the hilt of her sheathed katana.
Before drawing the blade, she focused her attention entirely on the weapon at her hip.
She did not cast a spell, chant an incantation, or activate her Mystic Eyes her eyes remained completely dark and unreadable.
Instead, using her direct connection to the Root, she targeted the concept that governed the sword's structural limits-the inherent concept that allowed steel to crack, bend, or break.
With a quiet murmur of her authority, she erased that single concept from the weapon's existence.
A faint, barely visible ripple of light glided down the scabbard for a microsecond before disappearing.
The rule that allowed her katana to shatter was simply gone. The weapon at her side was now conceptually incapable of breaking against any strike.
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"Rikka?" Saber asked cautiously. Without any hostility or intent to read, she could not predict what this mature version of Rikka would do compared to the expressive child she was facing before.
"Saber... let's start," Rikka replied, her voice remaining perfectly flat and detached.
With a smooth, effortless pull, Rikka unsheathed her katana. The long blade slid from the scabbard with a quiet hiss, and she simply let it hang loosely by her right side.
She did not fall into a recognized stance or adopt any specialized footwork. She just stood there, casually holding the weapon in one hand like a complete amateur who had never swung a blade before.
Then, Rikka stepped forward. She started with a normal, unhurried walk across the grass. Slowly, her pace increased, shifting from a calm walk into a steady jog, and finally breaking into a direct, straightforward run toward Saber.
For Saber, the simple approach was incredibly jarring. Normally, her Instinct would have already painted a clear picture of the incoming strike, warning her of the exact trajectory so her body could react before the opponent even swung.
But with her Instinct remaining completely silent, Saber was forced to rely entirely on her vision. She had to manually watch Rikka's shoulders, track the angle of the drooping blade, and calculate the closing distance herself.
Because she had to process everything with just her eyes instead of her precognition, Saber's reaction time was noticeably delayed, forcing her to raise Excalibur Morgan in a rigid, purely defensive guard rather than preparing a fluid counterattack.
As Rikka closed the final distance, Saber took the initiative. She stepped forward and swung Excalibur Morgan in a powerful, sweeping arc, aiming to overwhelm the unreadable woman with sheer force.
However, Rikka did not attempt to block the attack directly. As the dark blade closed in, Rikka casually shifted her wrist, tilting her katana into a downward slanting angle right in the path of the horizontal sweep.
When the two weapons connected, there was no massive shockwave of kinetic energy. Instead of clashing against Saber's raw strength, Rikka's slanting blade acted like a ramp, smoothly catching the edge of Excalibur Morgan and guiding its horizontal momentum sliding downward toward the grass.
By letting the immense force of Saber's attack slide harmlessly along the side of her own blade, she redirected the corrupted sword toward the grass.
The sudden lack of resistance pulled Saber slightly forward, leaving her guarded posture momentarily broken.
Seeing Saber's posture pulled forward, Rikka stepped straight in with a swift counter-slash aimed at Saber's chest.
Saber did not fight her momentum. With her front foot planted in the soil, she dipped her torso low beneath the incoming blade.
Using her planted foot as a pivot point, Saber swung her back leg in a rapid arc around Rikka's side.
Her black dress swished through the air as she ducked beneath the strike. Rikka's katana slashed through empty air, and Saber completed the spin, landing cleanly on Rikka's flank with her stance reset.
Now positioned perfectly at Rikka's blind side, Saber instantly unleashed a sweeping, upward strike.
Saber relied entirely on her vast combat experience, using her formidable physical strength to make the swing fast and lethal. Excalibur Morgan tore through the air, aiming to launch Rikka off the ground.
Rikka did not flinch or scramble to retreat. Before the sword could connect, she simply pivoted on her heel, turning her body just enough to meet the attack. She brought her katana down at a steep angle, catching the edge of Excalibur Morgan.
Once again, Rikka refused to match Saber's strength directly. Instead of a jarring clash, she let the momentum of the upward slash slide smoothly along the flat of her blade, fluidly guiding the immense force over her shoulder.
Saber adapted instantly. Realizing her upward swing had been parried away, she twisted her wrists and snapped her blade back down in a brutal overhead cleave.
Rikka sidestepped gracefully, her white kimono fluttering as the dark blade crashed into the earth beside her, throwing a spray of dirt and grass into the air.
Without missing a beat, Rikka flicked her wrist, sliding her katana along the side of Saber's embedded sword in a rapid thrust aimed directly at Saber's throat.
Saber jerked her head back just in time, feeling the wind of the thrust graze her skin. She ripped Excalibur Morgan out of the ground and launched a relentless flurry of strikes.
She swung from the left, then the right, stepping forward and pressing her offensive advantage to overwhelm the eerie emptiness in front of her.
Rikka answered every single strike. She moved with a hauntingly quiet efficiency, stepping back and angling her katana to deflect, parry, and redirect each blow.
The Avalon echoed with the sharp, continuous ring of sliding steel as the two women moved across the field, locked in a rapid, high-stakes exchange of strikes and deflections.
She moved with intense precision, chaining her strikes together in a continuous, flowing sequence.
Yet, no matter what angle she chose, Rikka's blade was always there to meet it.
Deciding to change her rhythm, Saber stepped in and feinted a high, sweeping arc.
Midway through the motion, she abruptly twisted her wrists, turning the attack into a vicious horizontal slash aimed directly at Rikka's side.
It was a flawless, deceptive maneuver that should have bypassed any normal defense. But before Saber even fully committed to the horizontal swing, Rikka was already shifting her weight.
She angled her katana perfectly, waiting in the exact spot needed to deflect the strike before it even arrived.
A sudden realization settled over Saber. Rikka was not relying on enhanced reflexes or speed to keep up with the flurry of attacks. She was simply anticipating her movement.
Saber immediately broke the exchange, kicking backward off the ground to slide across the grass and create a safe gap between them.
She kept Excalibur Morgan positioned defensively in front of her, her eyes narrowing as she studied the unreadable woman.
"It can't be," Saber said, her voice carrying a clear edge of caution. "You already know my swordsmanship. You are reading my habits and countering every single movement before I even make it. How can you do that?"
Rikka however did not say a word. She simply stared back with those dark, hollow eyes as the wind swept through Avalon.
Then, moving with deliberate precision, she shifted her footing. Sliding her right foot back, Rikka raised her katana.
Instead of letting it hang loosely like before, she gripped the hilt with both hands, lowering the blade's tip toward the ground at a highly specific, guarded angle.
Saber's breath caught in her throat. It was not a traditional kenjutsu stance. It was a flawless mirror of her own two-handed grip on Excalibur.
As Rikka settled into the posture, an eerie visual overlay seemed to distort the space around her.
For a fleeting second, Saber did not just see the woman in the white kimono standing across the field but she saw a phantom silhouette of herself superimposed right beside Rikka.
But it was not the dark, corrupted reflection she are now. It was the proud, radiant silhouette of her former self-clad in her blue dress and silver armor-perfectly matching the two-handed stance down to the very last millimeter.