Chapter Ninety-Seven: The Final Sword Enki

Facing Roland’s provocation, Gilgamesh remained unexpectedly calm, refraining even from launching unnecessary attacks.

A solemn aura radiated from him as he locked eyes with Roland.

“Why so silent? This isn’t like you. If it were the you from the beginning, you’d be shouting to punish the fool who dares challenge the king’s dignity.”

Recalling the losses caused by his previous arrogance, Gilgamesh’s tone, though still icy, betrayed a flicker of anger.

“Indeed, if it were the king of old, I might have attacked recklessly. But now, Roland, stop these futile actions.”

“It seems Enkidu’s death has truly matured your spirit,” Roland said thoughtfully.

“When facing an opponent like you, one should never respond with such disdain. Even in my prime, you were a foe requiring all my wit and courage. That previous arrogance… will never happen again.”

Roland tilted his head, perplexed. The Conqueror King could never defeat him—Gilgamesh must know this from firsthand experience.

Then why act this way?

Staring into Gilgamesh’s vacant eyes, Roland summoned an unusual power.

—A call to the darkness within.

As his pupils turned a vivid crimson, he sensed the murderous intent beneath Gilgamesh’s calm exterior, as if it could drown everything.

“So, you needed Rider to buy time to sort out your mind?”

“Quite perceptive, otherworldly god,” Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow, glancing past Roland toward the magic circle left by Danik’s workshop behind him.

“I had thought you might believe I gained enlightenment from Enkidu’s death.”

“That’s possible, but even so, Archer is Archer. A Servant is merely a facet of a Heroic Spirit’s period in time. Even with memories, the current self dominates,” Roland admitted. “A man facing despair, who would rather die than surrender his treasures, stubbornly clinging to life before death—that alone is suspicious.”

“Hmph... hahahaha—!”

Gilgamesh first snorted coldly, then burst into wild laughter.

“Otherworldly god, you guessed perfectly. After that devastating defeat, I swore never to treat you lightly again.”

He spoke coldly: “Though initially, I only sought to punish thieves coveting my wealth, I must admit this war is fascinating—heroes clashing with bitter rivalry, a spectacle that makes one gnash their teeth wondering why such grandeur never graced my lifetime!”

“When Enkidu reappeared in this world, I was moved beyond measure. He was my only true friend, a promise made a millennium ago. I risked my dignity fleeing from you just to keep that appointment.”

The Heroic King spread his hands wide, staring at his trembling opponent, his loathing almost tangible.

“I’ve imagined countless reunions with Enkidu—being slain, being preempted, or victorious as always. I cannot grasp my friend’s demise but have tried to accept it, for those who have died once should not expect too much.”

“But… but that lowly bastard dared to reenact the tragedy of the gods before my eyes! He dared to profanely attempt to be reborn using Enkidu’s body as a vessel!”

Under Gilgamesh’s keen gaze, Danik’s intentions were no secret.

“I can accept Enkidu’s death, but not that he should be toyed with by humanity afterward. Compared to the gods who cannot resist, humans are insignificant.”

Gilgamesh floated up slowly, majestic despite being near death.

“Roland, if you understand my words, you should realize that Enkidu being toyed with by fate before me is far less worthy of anger than the scheming of that lowly bastard and your wretched retreat.”

“Though I hate to admit it, my friend’s death has brought a new turning point,”

Abandoning his regal demeanor, Gilgamesh mimicked Enkidu’s posture, arms outstretched as if embracing the world.

“But unlike before, I no longer seek the philosophy of life and death. Now, this body burns only with flames of pain and hatred.”

“Human desires have swollen beyond measure, indulging in the city’s pleasures yet never satisfied, foolishly chasing after hollow illusions. Be it you, Tokimi, or that bastard Danik, all are jesters in this city without a king, placing themselves above kings. The world is my courtyard, and I will no longer tolerate this.”

In Gilgamesh’s crimson eyes, waves of annihilation welled up to engulf all.

“Roland, the king you face now bears no grudge against you. My hatred is reserved for Danik, this city, and the civilization that gave birth to him.”

“Hmph… so it’s come to this? Saber, kill him.”

Roland watched Gilgamesh ascend higher and higher, issuing a quiet command. Despite the dire situation, he made no move, his expression growing even more pleased.

Saber, already uneasy, leapt swiftly into the air, soaring two hundred meters above, treading the starry sky.

Though lacking flight skills, with Roland as Master and unlimited magical energy, maintaining this airborne state in battle was no fantasy.

While ascending, Saber repeatedly kicked the air, unleashing wild winds to accelerate further.

The speed surprised even Archer, who simply waved his hand, causing the space around to ripple golden like water.

Hundreds of radiant Noble Phantasms shot forth like arrows from a drawn bow, aimed straight at Saber.

Yet, thanks to keen eyesight and agile control of the gale, Saber deftly blocked and dodged the storm of weapons, sword in one hand.

Though not the absolute best, Saber’s skill ranked among the elite. With ample mana, this barrage was merely a powerful volley.

“Compared to Tristan’s unerring arrows, lacking precision, this quantity is manageable.”

As he dove toward Gilgamesh, Saber exhaled softly, recalling the melancholic knight who had once fought alongside him. Since the kingdom’s decline, for unknown reasons, that sorrowful knight had shunned him out of shame and eventually left, unable to understand him.

As a former comrade, Saber was naturally curious.

But now was no time to ponder; such thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind.

A Servant should be their Master’s sword, charging into battle like a knight for their lord.

Dodging the hail of Noble Phantasms, Saber raised his blade and delivered a heavy slash as Gilgamesh’s hand reached into the golden ripples.

Even if the opponent planned to draw the world-dividing artifact, before its true power was unleashed, that sword named “Kairi” was ill-suited for close combat. Saber only needed to imitate his Master and sever the arm before Archer could fully draw it.

He intended not just to sever—

The invisible holy sword rose high, clearly aiming to cleave Archer in two.

Yet Gilgamesh did not immediately unleash his Noble Phantasm’s power; instead, he swiftly withdrew, placing the weapon before him.

“Clang—!”

Metal clashed with sparks and a crisp ringing. Saber realized Archer had not drawn the Kairi sword but a pair of unusual blades.

Golden in hue, with angled tips and twisted hilts, Gilgamesh parried with astonishing swordsmanship, finally retreating at the cost of a blow to his back, escaping the endless entanglement.

Seizing a moment’s gap, he combined the two blades, restoring their original form.

A bow.

“Enki, the End Sword, it’s been a long time…”

Gilgamesh gazed at the weapon long sealed deep in the treasury, tightening the bowstring forged from light magic, his other hand resting on an arrow that appeared from thin air.

Ironically, this was the first time the Archer Gilgamesh had drawn his bow in this Holy Grail War.

“Ah, so it is… An archer using a bow after all,” Roland’s lip twitched as he sighed. Compared to Kairi, his Killer Queen was even less effective against this.

For this Noble Phantasm had but one purpose—

—to summon a flood.

“From now on, let the world feel pain—!”

Gilgamesh declared loudly, drawing the bowstring. Golden runes spread in strange patterns around the arrow like ripples, forming golden wings on either side of the crimson, pupil-like glow.

Fully drawn, Gilgamesh released the arrow.

Without aiming at anyone, it pierced the tiled floor of Ryutou Temple, embedding deeply.

This act signaled the Noble Phantasm’s activation had completed.

This imprecise shot was no accident but a prelude to positioning.

After enduring countless humiliations and pains, Gilgamesh laughed with exhilaration.

“Roland, I have finally found a way to defeat you! Not by targeting you directly, but by simply resenting this city, this civilization, this world!”

“Look to the heavens—now is the time for reckoning!”

Filled with the spirit of destruction, the Heroic King proclaimed the true name of his Noble Phantasm with pride.

“‘The Endfire Falls from the Firmament!—The Wrath of Nabhustin Approaches!’”

The sky darkened—not with thunderous destruction, but with an overwhelming storm of rain, tides, and floods blotting out the sun.

“Interesting—”

Roland watched Saber descend, instinctively gripping his holy sword, whispering softly.

(End of chapter)