Fate: But This Is Not Solomon I Know!

The Next Day — Refugee Zone, Maine-et-Loire Province.

Dawn had just broken.

The first rays of morning sunlight shone down on white canvas tarps, stained with mud and dried blood, glistening on the morning dew still clinging to the edges of the tents. Wisps of cloud drifted slowly across the pale gray sky, and the heavy air left behind by yesterday's battle seemed to ease—if only for this fleeting moment.

The refugee camp had returned to its usual rhythm—exhausted, yet alive. Adults scrambled to reinforce their shelters, while children foraged for any unburnt firewood they could find. No one spoke much. Everyone was busy in silence.

From a tent near the edge of the camp, Ritsuka emerged with a stretch. His tousled hair fluttered in the morning breeze as he rolled his shoulders to shake off the stiffness. His eyes swept the surroundings.

No sirens. No gunfire.

He let out a quiet breath of relief and walked toward the groups of civilians at work.

On the far side, Mash was helping carry firewood to the cooking area. Her hair was damp with dew, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, unfazed by the grime.

Upon seeing Ritsuka approach, she promptly set her bundle down and bowed respectfully.

"Good morning, Senpai."

"Yeah, good morning, Mash."

Ritsuka offered a warm smile, his tone softening noticeably.

Rather than let her do it alone, he knelt to pick up a bundle of firewood nearby, passing it efficiently to the villagers with practiced ease.

Mash simply smiled — a small, faint one, but warm.

After a while of labor, the two of them sat down at a crude wooden table and accepted their modest breakfast: a bowl of thin soup, a hard loaf of bread, and a cup of lukewarm water — hastily prepared by the villagers.

No one complained.

They ate in silence —

savoring the fragile peace that lingered amid the chaos of war.

But just as breakfast ended, a long, low horn blew from the watchtower atop the hill — deep, drawn-out, and powerful enough to shake the camp to its core.

In the makeshift plaza at the camp's center, a large circle of cleared earth had been prepared. Standing tall in its midst was Romulus — clad in radiant golden armor that gleamed like the sun itself. His broad frame stood firm beneath the morning light, as if sculpted from ancient bronze. His deep green hair billowed in the wind, and his piercing golden eyes swept across every face gathering before him — solemn and commanding, as if each one were a vital part of the Roman legion.

He gave a short nod, then spoke — his voice deep and thunderous like a war drum:

"Our friends!

Rome (I) have summoned you here today...

Because it is time to end the farce that is the Holy Sovereign Solomon!"

The atmosphere tightened instantly. All eyes locked on him.

"That thing anchored in the sky…"

He pointed upward, toward the massive black silhouette of the [Great Book], still hovering, distorting space with its unnatural energy.

"…it has begun absorbing the Earth at a rate far beyond our initial estimates.

We no longer have the luxury of hesitation!"

Romulus raised his arm — the golden morning light gleamed off his armor.

"Today!

The Sword of Logos and that false Sovereign will fall!

Today, Rome (I), Chaldea, and all our heroes — march toward final victory!"

"OUUHH!!"

A thunderous roar erupted — all the Servants shouted in unison.

Spirits ablaze. Morale surging.

There was no fear left. No room for doubt.

At the rear of the formation, Mash gripped her round shield tightly — her eyes fixed on Ritsuka, voice soft but unwavering:

"Senpai… we're about to move out. Please be ready."

Ritsuka turned to her, gaze firm. He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled.

"Thank you, Mash… I'm ready."

Then, his eyes lifted to Romulus — and farther still, toward the north.

To Normandy, now cloaked in storm and shadow…

Where the final battle awaited.

Suddenly, a calm yet resolute voice rang out behind him — a woman's voice:

"—Please… allow me to fight alongside you."

Ritsuka froze, then turned around.

Amid the commotion of the mobilizing crowd, Jeanne d'Arc emerged from the ruined medical tent. She wore a weathered white-gray battle dress, now tightly fastened as if prepared for war. Her sacred banner — though torn and ragged — was held firmly in her hands, fluttering fiercely in the wind.

The morning sun caught her eyes — no longer hollow,

but alight with a quiet, burning faith.

"Lady Jeanne…" Mash whispered, visibly surprised.

Ritsuka stepped forward, but before he could speak, Jeanne gently shook her head.

"I know… I haven't yet overcome all my doubts.

But if I keep running from them — then that so-called 'faith' becomes nothing more than a lie."

She met his gaze directly, voice calm but resolute:

"I cannot let my comrades — those who still hold hope for the future —

face him alone. Zoth must be confronted.

I will fight. Not for the past… but for the present."

The crowd fell silent.

All eyes turned toward Jeanne — no one objected.

From the front, Romulus turned as well. His golden gaze swept over her.

Then, he gave a solemn nod — like a general acknowledging a true warrior.

"Rome (I) welcomes you, Jeanne d'Arc.

The banner you raise — is for all mankind.

That alone is enough."

Jeanne tightened her grip on the flagpole, her eyes gleaming with resolve.

"Then grant me a place on the front lines.

I want to be the first to face him —

the one who tells him… humanity will never kneel."

Ritsuka smiled and nodded.

"We need your banner more than ever, Lady Jeanne."

Mash nodded too, voice warm:

"Welcome back, Lady Jeanne."

Jeanne didn't respond — instead, she planted her banner into the ground with force.

The flag unfurled sharply in the wind, as though it had torn away the lingering gloom that had haunted her since the day before.

It was time…

to bring light back into the darkness.

---

Alençon, Normandy – The Frontline

A blaring warhorn pierced the gray skies, echoing across the horizon like a call of death.

From atop Alençon's ramparts, a volley of flaming arrows shot forth like a rain of fire, tearing through the thick air. Each arrow burned bright red, streaking toward the oncoming tide of Megids.

"Squad Three! Resupply the archers!"

"Take down the ones on the walls first! Don't let them climb up!"

Shouts roared across the battlefield. The knights manning the defenses were drenched in sweat, eyes bloodshot, but the Megids showed no sign of faltering.

They crawled, ran, leaped — like beasts injected with madness, their grotesque forms scaling the walls, claws scraping, eyes glowing red-hot like furnaces, howling through the smoke and gunpowder.

The nightmare had begun in full.

[BOOM!!]

A massive Megid broke through — its body resembled a stone spider, six limbs gouging deep pits into the earth as it advanced. With flames erupting from its body, it let out a shriek and hurled itself toward a corner of the wall, aiming to bring it down!

"Damn it! Shields up!!"

A commander shouted. The knights scrambled to form a defensive formation atop the ramparts.

But before they could — a blade of white light cut across the battlefield like a divine scythe:

"Let us pray...

Protect my friends and comrades –

Luminosité Eternelle!"

[BOOM!!!]

The sacred banner slammed into the ground, releasing a radiant cross-shaped wave of light. The shockwave blasted the Megids away like dry grass in a wildfire. Jeanne d'Arc charged into the fray, her white flag a divine spear, her body a bastion standing firm against the monstrous onslaught.

"Do not retreat! This wall — must not fall!"

Her voice rang out like a church bell through the smoke and fire, her eyes alight with sacred flame.

Behind her, Ritsuka and Mash led the vanguard. Mash's round shield shimmered as it blocked a powerful charge from a high-class Megid. Ritsuka stood behind her, eyes scanning the battlefield, barking sharp orders:

"Lancelot – support the left flank!

Bradamante – cover the archers!"

Through the choking dust, a towering figure in golden armor surged forward from the center ranks — Romulus.

He charged like a meteor, his divine spear ablaze. With a roar, he struck:

"Nine Lives – Roma!!!"

The spear struck the ground — the earth exploded. Dozens of Megids were crushed and buried beneath the divine assault. The shockwave cleared the smoke, opening a direct path toward the enemy's stronghold.

Seeing the chance, Charlemagne shouted:

"The gate's open! Charge! Push into Alençon!"

Flags whipped in the wind. The Servants' radiance shone like dawn in the midst of doomsday. Screams, roars, battle cries — all blended into a bloodstained holy hymn.

Following the prearranged plan, the Servants swiftly split into smaller squads after helping the Duke of Alençon repel the Megids, each unit advancing toward different sectors across Normandy.

The battle had begun —

And Normandy...

was now the battlefield that would decide the fate of mankind.

---

Seine-Maritime Province – Northeastern Region of the [Great Book]

A silent flying ship glided through the gloomy skies, gradually approaching its target. On the deck, Taigong Wang and Noah stood side by side at the railing, their gazes heavy as they surveyed the desolate ground below — nothing but dust, rocks, and a deathly silence.

The ship slowly descended, then came to a halt on the barren land.

Both disembarked, walking forward in silence, eyes sweeping over the wreckage surrounding them.

"Haaah… That so-called Holy Solomon really went all in… I feel like I've been dropped back into Fengshen Yanyi or something."

Taigong Wang shook his head, slumping onto his Pixiu's back with a long, weary sigh.

"It's hard to blame him… He was admirable," Noah replied quietly. "To change the world for the one you love... Not everyone has the courage for that."

Above them, a colossal book floated open — the [Great Book] — drawing vast amounts of True Ether from the Reverse Side of the World, forming a swirling vortex of light suspended midair.

Suddenly—

"Stop right there, you two Riders."

A sharp, piercing female voice rang out, freezing the air around them.

From the mist emerged a figure clad in black and pink armor, gripping the weapon Suzune tightly. Her deep crimson eyes flared like blades — frenzied yet lifeless, like a corpse long past death.

"I am Carmilla. Class: Assassin.

And I — am the guardian of this place."

She spun Suzune once and aimed it directly at the two Grand Riders.

"Another one of those weird holy swords…"

Noah muttered, narrowing his eyes.

"What a pain."

Taigong Wang sighed, his shoulders drooping.

"Well then... let's make it quick."

Noah stepped forward, entering a ready stance.

"Yeah. We've still got other fronts to support."

Taigong Wang casually flicked his divine whip, magic energy crackling in the air.

"You dare underestimate me!?"

Carmilla screamed and charged, swinging Suzune downward. A wave of shrieking sound burst forth, tearing open the ground beneath. The air trembled like war drums pounding from the deep.

Noah and Taigong Wang immediately split formation, circling from both sides.

"You think it's that easy!?"

Carmilla twisted her blade, pulling the trigger — a sonic pulse exploded outward, forcing both Riders to leap back.

[Jūsō!]

She shifted Suzune into Gun Mode, scanned her Wonder Ride Book twice, then fired:

[Bremen no Rock Band!]

[Yay-yay! Suzune Ondoku Geki! Yay-yay!]

BOOM!! — A blast of sound like a cannon echoed out, hurling dirt and rubble into the air. The ground shook violently.

"What the hell kind of weapon is that…"

Noah muttered, dodging the blast.

"Using soundwaves as your main attack… That's almost artistic."

Taigong Wang gave a dry chuckle, glancing over.

"Save your breath!! DIE!!"

Carmilla roared, reverting Suzune to Sword Mode, and slashed straight at Noah.

"Ha ha~! Not that easy, Assassin!"

Taigong cracked his whip — a surge of magical energy like a dragon's tongue lashed out, smashing into Carmilla and sending her flying.

"Noah! Finish her off!"

"On it!"

The two Grand Riders charged in — Taigong's whip struck down in rhythm, magic flaring like a storm, forcing Carmilla into a defensive stance. Noah circled swiftly, cutting off her counterattacks, driving her back step by step.

"Enough!!"

Carmilla screamed, opening her coffin and activating her Noble Phantasm, trapping Noah in a realm of illusion.

"Everything is an illusion.

Maidens shall enter here.

Phantom Maiden!"

[BOOM!!]

Noah was sealed inside the coffin. Without pause, Carmilla scanned her Wonder Ride Book three times and unleashed her finisher:

[Bremen no Rock Band!]

[Yay-yay-yay! Suzune Ondoku Geki! Yay-yay-yay!]

She lunged forward in a blur — soundwaves from Suzune howled like banshees, detonating the coffin in a single strike.

"Noah!!"

"I'm fine! Finish her!"

Taigong Wang nodded, his expression turning cold. He raised his divine whip and activated his Noble Phantasm.

"Activating all eighty-four inscription seals.

Come to me, scourge of the Gods.

Come to me, my weapon of old.

Let the sky open up!

Come...

Dǎ Shén Biān!"

The sky tore open — like a curtain of water being ripped apart. A colossal whip descended from the heavens, crashing down on Carmilla.

"UAAAHHHHH—!!!"

[BOOOOOOOM!!!]

Carmilla was hurled away, her armor cracking, body fracturing. She dropped to her knees, hands clawing at the ground, tears welling in her eyes.

"Why... why stop me... I just wanted to atone... I just wanted—…"

Her words caught in her throat.

Then — she dissolved into spirit particles.

Only a shattered fragment of her mask and the weapon Suzune remained, lying silently amid the smoldering ruins.

"Haaah, it's over... Not as easy as I thought."

Taigong Wang shook his head, gaze lifting toward the [Great Book] still devouring True Ether from above. He sighed deeply.

"Heh… Taigong Wang… we'd better go assist the others soon. These Sword of Logos pests — the faster we clean them up, the better."

Noah gave a quiet chuckle, patting his comrade's shoulder before running back toward the ship.

"Yeah… you're right. Let's go."

Taigong Wang rose and quickly followed.