Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight

This is not a difference in martial skill, nor is it a difference in strength. In terms of pure martial prowess, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne is not inferior to Alaric—he may even surpass him.

Though he marvels at what kind of trials Alaric must have undergone to attain such an exquisite level of martial skill, Diarmuid himself was raised by Aengus, the fairy king and god of love, as well as Manannán mac Lir, the sea god.

He is one of the most outstanding knights of the Fianna, who served Fionn mac Cumhaill as their leader.

While his martial prowess does not reach the level of divine arts, it is still at the pinnacle just below that realm.

After all, those who can reach the domain of divine martial arts are none other than world-renowned great heroes like Scathach.

However, in terms of sheer strength, even with an unlimited magical energy supply, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne cannot match the overwhelming might of Alaric, whose strength is comparable to that of a dragon.

Between the two, victory and defeat are not one-sided, yet even Diarmuid himself did not expect the gap between them to be this vast.

This is an insurmountable difference—one that cannot be bridged by martial skill alone.

"Was he bathed in the blood of gods or dragons?!"

Diarmuid should have realized this the moment his Crimson Rose of Exorcism failed to inflict any wounds.

Though Alaric is not a Servant, his level of mystery and abilities are entirely on par with one. He may not possess Noble Phantasms that have undergone ascension through legend, yet his inherent abilities achieve the same effect.

Diarmuid is certain that Alaric's body is constantly protected by a powerful defensive-type Noble Phantasm, capable of negating a significant degree of attacks—

Both of his cursed spears fall within the tolerance of this Noble Phantasm. No matter how much force he exerts, he cannot wound Alaric using these spears alone.

It is similar to the Armor of Fafnir of the great hero Siegfried, but unlike Siegfried, whose legend clearly states his weakness,

Alaric has never died. He walks the world as the strongest living being, his body—flawless, without a single weak point.

Only through absolute power—martial skill, Noble Phantasms, raw strength—a complete and overwhelming force in all aspects, can one suppress Alaric.

Diarmuid bitterly regrets that he is not summoned under the Saber class. If he had been, he could have wielded divine armaments, and this battle would not be so one-sided.

All these thoughts pass in an instant. Even knowing the insurmountable gap between them, Diarmuid does not give up the fight. Instead, he continues his assault on Alaric.

To retreat?

 A knight should never show such cowardice before his lord!

Yet, compared to Diarmuid, Alaric is even faster!

His fist strikes forth like a streak of light, carrying explosive, surging black radiance—a dazzling starlight burst illuminates Diarmuid's vision—

BOOM!

Diarmuid cannot evade—this attack is unavoidable.

Even with Mind's Eye (True): B, an ability honed through rigorous training, allowing him to predict enemy movements and find a way out of dire situations,

Even when forced into a corner, this ability enables him to calmly assess both himself and his opponent, grasping even a 1% chance of reversal and executing a perfect counterattack.

Yet in the face of this single punch, which he only realized upon impact,

None of that mattered.

Alaric coupled with assassination techniques, threw this punch with force comparable to the serious state of the Child of Light from Ireland.

Its power is immense, its speed is unparalleled, and few in the world could match it!

The instant his burning fist made contact with Diarmuid's face, even the slightest graze caused his skin to ripple like waves.

Almost simultaneously, the overwhelming force erupted—Diarmuid could not resist it!

At that moment, Diarmuid became a streak of light, blasted away like a cannonball, smashing straight into a shop hundreds of meters away.

Without sparing him a glance, Alaric turned his attention back to the Little Red Riding Hood in his grip—

At that moment, Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald's voice rang out:

"Now! Do it!"

Before the words even fully left his mouth, the Little Red Riding Hood in Alaric's grasp erupted with a surge of magical energy, the crimson glow so intense that even Alaric's palm felt a sting.

As a relic of the Age of Gods, the masterpiece of six Divine Era magi, Little Red Riding Hood was a manifestation of high-tier mystery, capable of bypassing even Alaric's monstrous defense and inflicting injuries upon him!

"An autonomous entity, similar to a Lesser Grail."

Not releasing his grip, Alaric raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing the Little Red Riding Hood, which was now directing magic attacks at him.

If it were simply a matter of infinite mana, the Einzbern Lesser Grail, when connected to the Greater Grail, could achieve the same level of operation, albeit with slightly more autonomy, even functioning as an independent Master.

After all, it was a homunculus.

But as an Age of God masterpiece, Little Red Riding Hood's magical energy was akin to the True Ether of Albion's Spirit Tomb, rather than the Fifth Imaginary Element Ether.

The difference lay in the density of mystery.

The difference in raw magical power was secondary—what intrigued Alaric more was Little Red Riding Hood's autonomy.

It only acted after Kayneth spoke. Before that, it had been practically inert, like a doll.

Was it a contract? A linkage mechanism?

Alaric was curious about how Kayneth was controlling Little Red Riding Hood—and beyond that, the potential of its mana reserves.

Even though the modern magical environment and the absence of sufficient mana supply had made Alaric's current strength weaker than before,

If he could tap into Little Red Riding Hood's mana, Alaric could fully restore his Mesopotamian power—

No, he could surpass it.

For years, Alaric had never ceased honing himself, not even for a second.

His brief contemplation ended. Ignoring Little Red Riding Hood, Alaric chose to spare its life, uncertain if killing it would trigger unforeseen consequences.

Then, with a smile, he turned his gaze toward the cautious Kayneth and his fiancée, Sola, but before he could speak—

The sky was engulfed in thunderous light.

Rolling thunder shook the heavens.

At dusk, a divine ox-drawn chariot descended from the sky, its path paved by blue-white lightning, forming a stairway of the gods, declaring the arrival of the son of Zeus.

The one who conquered the world—

Alexander the Great—Iskandar!!

"Hahahahaha!! What a lively day!"

The boisterous king didn't hesitate. He charged forward aboard the Gordias Wheel, rushing straight at Alaric!

This time, he didn't even exchange words—the moment they met, battle commenced!

Step. Step.

The sound of footsteps followed, accompanied by the melodious clink of armored skirts—

Even with Iskandar before him, Alaric whirled around sharply.

Reflected in his eyes was golden hair, approaching with deadly precision.

The King of Knights, her expression cold, her invisible Excalibur poised to unleash radiant destruction.

A pincer attack from both sides, aiming to trap Alaric completely.

"They've joined forces?"

Even amid the dual assault, Alaric kept thinking.

This coordinated strike between Iskandar and Artoria—this wasn't mere battlefield synergy.

The most probable answer was that the two had formed an alliance.

The only target was him—

"Not only do you want to rescue Irisviel, but you also intend to stop me from taking this guy?"

As the Knight King, Artoria, approached, the laughter of Iskandar echoed from behind, accompanied by someone's scream.

Whether these two had formed an alliance last night or today was unclear, but to Alaric, it did not matter at all.

The only thing that concerned Alaric was the threat they posed to him.

The Sword of Promised Victory, the Excalibur wielded by the Knight King Artoria, was an A++-rank Noble Phantasm, far beyond something Alaric could withstand head-on.

Not only that, but the Gordias Wheel, the chariot driven by the Conqueror King Iskandar, was also an A+-rank Noble Phantasm, capable of inflicting immense damage on him.

"Projection… begin."

Unfazed, Alaric quietly activated his magecraft. However, what he constructed was not the Gate of Holy Judgment, which had been continuously refined for divine sanctions, but rather the pitch-black Chains of Heaven.

Clang—!

The dark chains danced wildly in the streets, constructing an inescapable domain at astonishing speed, blocking the Gordias Wheel's advance!

But this mere imitation could not stop the sword of the Knight King.

Where the sword of the king points, victory follows!

The holy sword that was swung was a blade that severs steel, its edge sharp enough to cut through anything!

The Chains of Heaven, constructed by Alaric's mana, failed to halt Artoria even for a moment. In less than an instant, she was already before him!

At the same time, behind Alaric, the Gordias Wheel, descending from the heavens, surged forward with divine lightning, shattering the Chains of Heaven that formed the domain. With overwhelming authority, it crushed toward Alaric!

The surging bolts of lightning caused the surrounding air to heat up at an incredible rate. The roar of the divine bulls exploded in Alaric's ears, resembling the true sound of a thunderstorm.

"Haaah!"

Artoria, now in close range, let out a fierce cry as she swung her holy sword at Alaric's arm—the arm that was gripping Little Red Riding Hood's throat!

Realizing that the Chains of Heaven had failed to stop them and that moving freely while holding Little Red Riding Hood was impossible, Alaric decisively let go.

Yet, even so, he could not completely evade the descending Excalibur—

Slash!

A mist of blood burst into the air.

Dragon's blood splattered onto Artoria's face, and within her emerald eyes, an aura of draconic majesty seemed to surge.

A severed arm soared high into the sky, reflected in Alaric's gem-like eyes.