Hiss…

Damien suddenly realized that if he claimed to be ‘King Solomon’ in this Holy Grail War, it might actually work. No one would likely call my bluff.

Good grief!

The real Solomon had somehow become his stand-in.

“It seems I guessed right.” Kiritsugu said, interpreting Damien’s silence as confirmation. “It’s hard to imagine… this Holy Grail War with both the King of Conqueror and the King of Magecraft.”

Add in his own Knight King, Arthur, and this war’s ‘king’ quotient was absurdly high.

Zzt! Zzt!

“The little girl sparking with electricity.” Iskandar remarked, rubbing his chin, unable to discern Fran’s identity. “Care to introduce yourself first?”

“Aaah!”

Fran, not grasping Iskandar’s intent, flared with lightning, poised to attack at any moment.

“Careful, Irisviel!” Artoria gripped her holy sword, shielding Irisviel behind her.

Diarmuid’s expression grew serious, ready to fight.

“Hey, hey, hold on!” Iskandar protested. “Such a hot-tempered girl… can’t you let me finish?”

His words had no effect, but Damien’s command calmed Fran instantly.

As the arcs of electricity faded, Fran planted Bridal Chest beside her, awaiting Iskandar’s next words.

“I thought you were one of those non-communicative types.” Iskandar said, keenly sensing Fran’s nature. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was likely this Holy Grail War’s Berserker.

“Rider?” Artoria asked. “What exactly are you after? What’s your goal?”

“My goal?”

Iskandar didn’t answer directly. Instead, he tilted his head back and shouted.

“Hey! There are others out there, right?!”

“You lot hiding in the shadows, spying on us!”

His voice deepened. “Surely, Saber and Lancer’s clear clash of blades has drawn more than just me and this little girl.”

“Come now! Heroic Spirits summoned by the Holy Grail, if you don’t want to be scorned as cowards by me, Iskandar, the King of Conqueror, show yourselves!”

Heroic Spirits were renowned heroes of history, each with their own pride and legendary deeds.

Unsurprisingly, Iskandar’s provocation was something few could stomach, except perhaps an Assassin.

“This is…” Tokiomi Tohsaka, watching from the shadows, felt a headache coming on. “Trouble.”

Among the summoned Heroic Spirits, none would be more provoked by Iskandar’s taunt than Gilgamesh.

“The Nasuverse lamppost king lives up to his name.” Damien remarked, watching as Gilgamesh appeared atop a lamppost, unleashing a torrent of insults, branding everyone as worthless mongrels.

Without Lancelot present, Gilgamesh’s Noble Phantasms were aimed at Iskandar, who had dared to offend him.

But then…

“Aaah!”

Whether it was a natural clash between Berserker and Gilgamesh, Fran glared at him, her body wreathed in lightning, ready to pounce.

“Hm?” Damien was surprised but quickly understood.

In a way, the term ‘mongrel’ wasn’t just a trigger for Mordred… it struck a nerve with Fran too.

“Who permitted you to gaze upon me, mongrel?” Gilgamesh snapped, turning two Noble Phantasms toward Fran.

Boom!

Boom!

Two golden beams of light shot toward Fran on the ground.

She swung her massive hammer, deflecting the faster Durandal with force.

But the overwhelming strength from the holy sword slowed her attempt to block the second spear by a fraction.

Fran’s strength, among this war’s Heroic Spirits, was only slightly above Hundred-Face Hassan.

Against the overpowered Gilgamesh, victory was unlikely… surviving for long was the real question.

Still, Damien had never intended for Fran to play a major role in this Holy Grail War.

She had already provided valuable experience in Heroic Spirit summoning and a magical energy recovery buff.

“Leave it to you.” Damien said calmly, unconcerned for Fran’s safety, and called out, “Shion!”

“At your command!”

Without needing further instruction, a graceful, tall figure crossed space, positioning herself between Fran and the incoming Noble Phantasm spear.

Boom!

A slender, pale hand reached out, seizing the spear’s tip in front of the disbelieving eyes of the Heroic Spirits, halting it with sheer force.

Buzz! Buzz!

The Noble Phantasm spear trembled in Shion’s grip, emitting a low hum.

It struggled to break free.

But her hand, as if forged from steel, held firm, unscathed by the legendary weapon.

“Not a bad weapon, but…” Shion raised her head, her sharp eyes locking onto Gilgamesh atop the lamppost. With a sudden exertion…

Crack! Snap! Bang!

“How is this possible?!”

All eyes were fixed on the Noble Phantasm spear in Shion’s hand, their faces filled with disbelief.

The once-gleaming golden spear was now riddled with cracks, shattered by Shion’s brute strength.

“That spear!”

“No doubt, it’s a Noble Phantasm!”

And not just any… at least B-rank or higher!

Yet Shion had crushed it with her bare hands.

“Keep going, Shion.” Damien’s voice rang in her ear. “I need that golden shiny guy to keep using his Gate of Babylon.”

Getting close to Gilgamesh was no easy task.

So, the plan was to force him to fight, to keep unleashing his arsenal of Noble Phantasms.

And in the process…

[Noble Phantasm identified: Gate of Babylon]

[Analysis initiated]

[Analysis in progress…]

For Violet, there was no need to analyze abilities one at a time.

The more a target used their power in Damien’s presence, the more flaws Violet could detect, hastening the analysis of its essence.

“To dare touch my treasures with those filthy hands.” Gilgamesh seethed. His anger at Shion’s contact with his treasures surpassed his shock at the spear’s destruction.

“Do you desire death so badly, mongrel?!”

His handsome face froze with icy killing intent, devoid of expression.

The space around Gilgamesh warped like a mirage, and a divine radiance burst forth.

A new array of Noble Phantasms unfurled like a saint’s halo around the golden Heroic Spirit… sixteen in total.

Not just swords and spears, but axes, hammers, and lances.

Some were strange weapons of unknown purpose or origin.

Each gleamed like a mirror, imbued with potent magical energy.

Every one was a true Noble Phantasm, without exception.

—

Hi guys, Elenea here! I just want to announce that starting now I’ll be trying to focus on my own original fanfic, which I’ve been thinking about for the past few days (lol I really mulled this over briefly for a few days and decided I’m going to make it a full novel).

[Worse Than the Devil (DxD)]

Synopsis:

Devil.

An evil and chaotic creature, born from hell, which are often a scapegoat for humans. Blamed for the atrocities they themselves commit.

“The devil made me do it.”

A phrase always uttered by humans after committing crimes, casting blame and responsibility for their wrongdoings onto the devil.

But not all humans are like that, for there is one man who would gleefully commit atrocities that would be condemned by all of human history and accept the blame and responsibility for those wrongs with open arms.

His name is Michael, but in stark contrast to the meaning of his name ‘Who is like God’ he is not a devout man who draws near to God’s embrace. Instead… he is the one who sends lost sheep to meet God’s embrace much faster.

—

Btw, a quick note before you decide to read, if you have a heart as pure as glass, I suggest you don’t read this because it REALLY gets dark to early. The first chapter will give you a little idea of what I might explore later on in this fanservice harem-themed world like DxD.

Adios!

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep