Melusine, Become my Noble Phantasm!

The outer shell of the Holy Lance began to form around the city like a celestial cage. Black flames rained down, dyeing the world in strokes of midnight and gold. The infernal fire licked at the lance's shell, relentlessly burning away the divine barrier.

At last, cracks appeared—first tiny fractures, then spreading fissures.

The Lion King's calm expression shifted ever so slightly as she observed the weakening shield, but her eyes soon relaxed.

It matters little, she thought. The outer shell is only just breached. The rebels may soon enter, but they still cannot hope to defeat me.

Sitting upright, the Lion King raised a golden Holy Grail, its radiant power spreading like liquid light. Within it, the Demon Pillar writhed and shimmered, its influence reaching out to the Knights of Justice.

Affected by the grail's dark blessing, the knights began to transform.

Their bodies swelled larger, golden lines tracing intricate patterns across their armor like sacred veins. Where their helmets once bore simple visors, rows of topaz-like eyes blinked open, casting an eerie glow.

Though these Upright Knights retained their imposing, solemn presence, something deeply unnatural now lingered beneath their sacred facade—an unsettling distortion.

If one could see their current "occupations" above their heads, it would no longer be their old titles—but rather the color black, stained irrevocably by the Demon Pillar's corrupt power.

Meanwhile, the outer shell of the Holy Lance finally shattered.

The once impenetrable barrier protecting the sacred city had fractured.

Now, the heavily fortified doors could be broken by sheer force.

Mordred stared at the familiar yet alien gate before him. Seeing the protective shield shattered, a grin spread across her face. She stepped forward and kicked the door hard.

Thunder roared as the door slammed backward, smashing into the stone wall behind it. Dust billowed up—an impossible sight within this legendary sanctuary, now sullied by war and ruin.

"Oh my god! How did these puppet knights get so ugly?" Mordred muttered, swearing in a sharp British curse.

Morgan, nearby and weary from unleashing her treasure, winced, momentarily forgetting she had taught Mordred such foul language.

How was Arturia supposed to educate this child? Morgan thought, a twinge of irony in her heart.

Despite Arturia's care, Mordred had somehow picked up such habits—proof that the king was a good ruler but a poor father.

It's a pity Mordred died too early. She never had the chance to be re-educated.

"Mordred, calm down!" Morgan said, unable to help herself.

Mordred curled her lips but tried to hide her smirk.

As the city gate swung open, the power of the Holy Grail spilled outward, seeping into the Upright Knights still fighting outside.

Their bodies twisted and ballooned grotesquely, armor cracking apart only to be refilled with shimmering gold. More topaz eyes bloomed on their bodies like malignant flowers.

Da Vinci frowned. "Ritsuka, you and Mash should head straight for the palace. I'll hold these puppet knights off for you."

Morgan glanced at Da Vinci, then summoned a blue flaming spear from her staff and drove it into her own body.

The pain was minor.

Spears burst forth from the surrounding Knights of Justice as if impaled from within.

"Aslan... Artoria... Please," Morgan murmured, eyes fixed on the advancing puppets, "Even after a thousand years, I still don't know how to face her. I simply cannot meet her. Besides, this Artoria is not the Artoria I once knew."

Her expression twisted with conflicted emotions.

To admit is one thing, but hatred remains. It doesn't feel right to treat her purely as an enemy... yet to be sisters seems impossible.

"This Lion King is not the Artoria I hurt. She even hates me."

Perhaps in another thousand years, Morgan thought, she might face Arturia with calm.

Aslan nodded at Morgan, understanding her reluctance.

Since Morgan refused, he would not force a meeting.

After all, Morgan was his teacher and deserved respect.

Hearing Morgan's words, Mordred chuckled darkly.

"Really? Fine by me that you didn't follow. I've been too relaxed. Humph! Let's go! Time to see that bastard goddess who stole my father's body!"

Mordred growled as the corrupted Knights of Justice barred her path.

"Why are these knights blocking me?! If this keeps up, I'll never reach that damn goddess!"

She vaguely recalled the goddess clutching the Holy Grail.

It was impossible to wait for the goddess to exhaust her magic power and let these puppets consume themselves.

More likely, the Lion King intended to use the knights to wear down their enemies before capturing them all.

Whether by divine design or Agravain's last desperate gambit, only he could conceive such a fiendish strategy.

Earlier, Lancelot had cleaved an Upright Knight in two, and Agravain had felt the Camelot shield shatter.

"How could this be?! That's the Holy Lance's shell! Tsk!"

Agravain placed his hands on several Knights of Justice, absorbing their magic to strengthen himself.

With the protective shield broken, he would stand firm—no matter if he was tainted by the Demon Pillar's power.

-End Chapter-

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