Fate: But This Is Not Solomon I Know!

Bayeux – Normandy, Central Headquarters of the Sword of Logos.

Days after the failed ambush, Frankenstein wandered like a predator, tracing every faint lead on Ritsuka's group — but to no avail. The ancient land of France had never felt so vast.

Only when she received a summons from Zoth — reporting Chaldea's appearance in Maine-et-Loire — did she hoist Gekido over her shoulder and return to HQ without hesitation.

Now, in the heart of a dimly lit hall veiled in a thousand years of darkness, she knelt on one knee beneath the throne. Atop the tall seat inlaid with crimson metal, Zoth sat in leisure, like an ancient monarch. He waved his hand lazily, either savoring the silence or simply enjoying the numb regret radiating from his most loyal subordinate.

Fires flickered faintly in old stone hearths, their weak glow just enough to outline the ancient rune patterns carved into the pillars — remnants of a mythic era long decayed. The air felt buried under the weight of time, dense and suffocating.

Zoth leaned back, tilting his chin slightly, eyes glancing at Frankenstein without a flicker of emotion.

"Hmm... A failure, is it?"

He chuckled softly — a dry, razor-cold sound of mockery.

"No matter. Stand, Frank."

"Ah—!"

Frankenstein shot upright, posture straight as a spear plunged into the earth, arms limp but radiating killing intent — like a war machine awaiting the order to fire.

"Now then…"

Zoth folded his arms behind his head, gazing up at the cold stone-carved dome, his indifferent eyes seeming to pierce through the clouds above.

"Before the Great Book erodes the world entirely… I don't want those Chaldea bastards laying a finger on it. Understood?"

From the corner of the room, a deep and rasping voice — like stone dragging across steel — rumbled forth:

"So… shall we act, then?"

Vlad Tepes.

He stood beside a massive pillar, his towering figure nearly merging with the surrounding darkness. His deep-colored cloak hung down like night drawing a blade. His face was hidden in shadow, only his eyes — cold as eternal ice — stood out with eerie intensity.

"Correct. Vlad, you and Frank…"

Zoth narrowed his eyes, a flicker of crimson flaring in his gaze — like embers of an undying grudge.

"…go to that refuge. Erase everything. Ah, but... leave Jeannette."

"Do you want them taken alive to—"

"No."

Zoth cut him off, leaning forward slightly, his voice sinking like cracking ice.

"Kill them directly. No mercy. No questions. Just do it — cleanly."

"…Understood."

Both nodded like machines receiving a code. Their heavy footsteps echoed as they turned and left the hall, behind them only the wind's howl whispering through ancient stone fissures.

Zoth waved a hand dismissively:

"Ah… bring some Shimi Megid and Ryuu Fang Soldiers. Let's make it a proper spectacle."

"As you command."

The stone doors closed behind them, their resounding slam like the punctuation mark of a death sentence. Silence reclaimed the hall once more.

Only then did Zoth slip a hand into his cloak and pull out [Omni Force] — the Wonder Ride Book, now awakened as the true [Almighty Book].

He spun it between his fingers, smoothly — as if toying with fate.

"Sigh… How should I kill time now without getting bored…"

He lazily leaned back, tossed the book into the air, and caught it without error. His eyes gleamed orange-gold — like blood-soaked amber, cold and inhuman — the eyes of something that no longer qualified as human.

And then — the space warped. A distorted ripple passed through the hall, like a lake's surface being crushed by a massive force. In that instant, Zoth's vision pierced through countless barriers, reaching the refugee shelter — where Jeanne, Ritsuka, and the Servants were preparing to greet death.

"Hmph... Let's see how far you can go this time…"

Zoth chuckled — a laugh drained of all humanity.

Suddenly, a calm voice echoed from deep within the hall:

"You've changed a lot, Zoth."

Zoth didn't turn. He knew that presence too well.

He smirked, eyes still gazing far beyond:

"Haha… I rather like the way you call me now, Master. 'Holy Lord Solomon' — doesn't it sound grander?"

From the shadows, a figure slowly emerged.

Zelretch.

Silver hair swayed with the current of mana. His face, marked by fatigue, still exuded authority — as one who had once touched the weave of dimensions. His crimson eyes, like aged wine, had witnessed far too many apocalypses to be surprised anymore.

He stood straight, hands clasped behind his back, voice steady but cold:

"I still prefer the name Zoth. After all… you were once my most brilliant disciple."

His eyes scanned the figure on the throne — and then frowned slightly:

"Your body… is decaying."

Zoth scoffed, the sound slicing through the air like wind through a crack.

"Really now… Still the same — always poking where it hurts. So many years, and you're still just as annoying."

Zelretch didn't reply. His gaze grew heavier.

"Zoth… What is it you truly want?"

Zoth slowly spun the Omni Force, one rotation… two…

"What do I want?"

He shrugged, as if too tired to lie.

"You've seen it — to destroy the world."

Zelretch paused for a beat, his eyes narrowing like a blade drawn.

"You caused all this chaos… for a village girl?"

The words cut through the air like scissors.

Zoth stopped spinning the book. The room went still. One second… two…

Then he laughed. Not like a man — but like a soul long since rotted away.

"Sigh… Still can't hide anything from you."

"That's right — for her."

His eyes lit up, voice low as a curse:

"She wasn't supposed to die like that."

"Zoth… that was fate. An inevitable end."

Zelretch's tone was that of a weary god passing judgment.

"Then…"

Zoth laughed — a loud, ringing sound that echoed like a death knell.

"I'll rewrite the ending."

He clenched the Wonder Ride Book tightly, the ground beneath the throne rumbling faintly.

His voice thundered — filled with both agony and madness:

"If humanity refuses to accept it… then I'll burn humanity to ash."

---

Maine-et-Loire Province — Refugee Zone

The early afternoon sun pierced through the makeshift tent, reflecting off the sweat-soaked face of Ritsuka Fujimaru — the last Master of humanity — as he hunched over, hauling crates of food into the storage depot.

Sweat dripped onto the parched earth, but he didn't stop. There was no room for rest at the end of the world.

"Senpai, you've worked hard."

Mash approached, holding a cup of cool water. Her gentle smile couldn't hide the worry flickering behind her glasses.

"Thanks, Mash."

Ritsuka took it and slumped down onto a wooden crate, sipping it slowly, letting his heavy breaths blend with the stifling air.

"Ah, Senpai… Lord Romulus has called a strategy meeting. It's about launching an offensive on Sword of Logos."

Mash's voice was soft but firm.

Lately, the Chaldea team had gotten a clear picture of this Singularity's state: the so-called Holy Master Solomon — the one pulling the strings — was attempting to erase the current world and recreate it in his own twisted ideal.

Worse, a report from Chaldea had left Ritsuka speechless: three Grand Servants had been summoned to deal with this Singularity.

"Three Grand Servants? What the hell kind of freak Singularity is this…"

He muttered, eyes heavy as he headed toward the command tent.

Inside, the Servants had already gathered.

"Ritsuka, you've arrived."

Charlemagne smiled. His tone was light, but tension was evident in his eyes.

"Yeah. We're here, Your Majesty."

Ritsuka bowed.

"Ritsuka! A~ you've come at last!"

Nero Claudius waved enthusiastically.

"Ah, it's been a while, Your Highness."

Ritsuka returned her bow.

"Let's not keep the others waiting. We should go in," Roland said with a cheerful grin.

The air in the tent was suffocating.

"You came at just the right time. The situation has grown critical."

Romulus stood before a map-strewn table, his voice deep and resolute.

"What happened, Lord Romulus?"

Mash asked, eyes clouded with worry.

"Rome dispatched scouts. The findings confirm that the [Great Book] is being guarded by five Heroic Spirits, each stationed at a distinct location."

His finger pointed at a map of the Normandy region. Five glowing points lit up: Manche, Orne, Eure, Seine-Maritime, and Calvados.

"We'll split our forces and strike from five fronts."

– Charlemagne, Roland, Astolfo, and Bradamante: a direct assault on Calvados, the center of the [Great Book].

– The Knights of the Round Table and Chaldea personnel: strike from the west, targeting Manche.

– Rome and Nero: approach from the south, into Orne.

– Noah and Jiang Ziya: attack from the northeast, into Seine-Maritime.

– Tezcatlipoca: responsible for the eastern offensive on Eure.

"Understood!"

Everyone replied in unison.

"What about me?"

Jeanne d'Arc stepped forward from the rear, voice calm yet resolute.

"Lady Jeanne… we ask that you stay and defend the refugee zone. If the enemy reaches us, the civilians won't stand a chance."

Romulus spoke softly, like a personal request.

"Understood."

Jeanne tightened her grip on her flagstaff, eyes as steadfast as wind brushing ancient towers.

"Well then—"

[BOOM!!!]

A deafening explosion thundered from the main gate! The entire camp shook as if the earth itself was breaking apart!

"We've got trouble!"

Ritsuka shot to his feet. Everyone dashed outside.

Dust and smoke blanketed the field. From the gray haze emerged a young girl with pale pink hair, clad in white ceremonial garb. A golden horn gleamed from her forehead, and in her hands was a massive orange-gray greatsword — Dogouken Gekido.

Beside her stood a middle-aged man in a black suit, silently gripping a spear in one hand and a sword in the other. Behind them: hordes of Shimi Megid and Dragon Fang Soldiers, poised to flood the zone like a tidal wave.

"Everyone be careful! Enemies incoming!"

Bedivere drew his blade, stepping protectively in front of Ritsuka.

"Evacuate the civilians, now!!"

Romulus roared.

Jeanne immediately turned back, leading the civilians to safety. But before leaving, she cast a sharp glance ahead:

"That's… Frankenstein and… Vlad III."

"Yeah, we figured…"

Ritsuka replied grimly.

Vlad stepped forward and planted his Kaiji into the ground.

"Frank, restrain yourself. The Master Logos doesn't want us showing all our cards this early."

[BOOM—!!]

Before he could finish, Frankenstein had already charged like lightning into the camp, Gekido slicing the air, earth cracking beneath her path.

"Tch…"

Vlad sighed, lightly tapping his blade twice on the ground.

The space distorted — and suddenly, everyone, including Frankenstein, was yanked back to their starting positions as if time itself had rewound.

"What just happened?!"

"We were… pulled back?!"

"Exactly."

Vlad responded coldly, drawing his spear. He opened his Wonder Ride Book and placed it onto the sword.

"Frank, go. Don't spoil the Master Logos mood."

[Ocean History!]

[The lives that sank into this deep azure still weave the engraved history even now.]

He split the sword's blade, flipping it into a trident. Its tip pointed to the ground.

"Henshin."

[Kaiji Gyakkai!]

[Toki wa… toki wa… toki wa toki wa toki wa toki wa!]

[Warenari!]

[Ocean History!]

[Ocean Basshān! Basshān!]

Dark-blue armor crashed down over Vlad like a tidal wave frozen in time — Kamen Rider Durendal!

Without delay, Frankenstein opened her own Wonder Ride Book:

[Genbu Shinwa!]

[There once was a mighty armored homunculus who bore a fragment of the holy beast's life…]

She placed the book on Gekido and squeezed the trigger:

"Rrrraagh—! Hen…shin!"

[Genbu Shinwa!]

[Ittou Ryoudan! Butta Gire! Dogo! Dogo!]

[Dogouken Gekido!]

[Gekido Juuhan! Zettai soukou no taiken ga hokuhou yori ouinaru ichigeki o tatakikomu!]

Gray-black armor engulfed her like the carapace of a divine beast — Kamen Rider Buster!

Ritsuka staggered back, heart pounding. His voice trembled:

"What… do you people even want?!"

Vlad twirled his trident, eyes cold as a frozen lake:

"Hm? We're just following the Holy Master Solomon's orders."

"Objective: Erase this place."

A deathly smile briefly flickered across his lips.

No hatred.

No reason.

Only annihilation.