Chapter 465: [465] The Lance That Shines to the End of the World!

"To defeat Black Assassin, we might need to employ some tactics..."

Having endured excavation work far beyond what a sports car should endure, the Chevrolet now resembled a battered vintage vehicle from three or four decades ago—its body riddled with dents, every component creaking miserably, even the engine’s roar reduced to a feeble wheeze.

Seeing this, Kairi decisively had Mordred cut the engine, then quietly rolled down the window and climbed onto the trunk.

"No matter how high-performance a sports car is, it can’t withstand continuous Mana Burst. Besides, my magical energy is limited. If this continues, neither of us will have any combat capability left."

"Then what should we do?"

"Saber, do you think she’ll follow us here?"

"Of course!" Though unsure where this premonition came from, Mordred answered without hesitation. "She won’t stop until she catches up with us!"

"Exactly." Kairi snapped his fingers. "In that case, let’s settle this with one decisive strike. Look at this tunnel—doesn’t it seem perfect for your Noble Phantasm?"

"Huh?!" The words struck Mordred like a revelation. She whirled around to examine the narrow, elongated mountain passage she had carved out.

Just as Kairi had said, her Noble Phantasm, ’Clarent Blood Arthur,’ was a concentrated beam of magical energy that obliterated everything in its straight path. Releasing it in such a linear tunnel would focus its destructive power to an unprecedented degree.

Mordred’s Noble Phantasm was already Anti-Army class. With this terrain amplifying its effect, just how terrifying would its power become?

"Since our ride is already on its last legs, let’s just block the only exit and unleash your Noble Phantasm at the enemy!" Kairi pumped his fist. "It might seem underhanded, but there are no rules on the battlefield!"

"Ohhh, that’s perfect! You’re amazing, Master! Are you some kind of genius?!"

A mercenary who thrived on danger had met a knight who fought without scruples—the compatibility of this pair was undeniable at this moment. Faced with Kairi’s proposal, Mordred’s eyes sparkled like a child’s as she lavished praise without restraint.

"Just you wait, Black Assassin! I’ll make sure you regret ever crossing me!"

"Stay safe, Saber."

After offering this brief reminder, Kairi slipped into the driver’s seat, taking over as the operator. To avoid being buried under collapsing rubble from the Noble Phantasm’s release, his role was to squeeze the last bit of life from the Chevrolet, using the recoil to propel them out of the tunnel the moment Mordred unleashed her attack. Even though he’d be facing away from Mordred, unable to see the battle or issue commands, it didn’t matter.

He trusted his Saber—just as Mordred placed unwavering faith in this necromancer.

Not long after Kairi tightened his grip on the wheel, Mordred spotted the silver warhorse charging forward like a drill, its rider wielding that golden spear that looked strangely familiar...

"What the hell, I can’t see a thing!" The flying debris and magical energy obscured Mordred’s vision. She shook her head, trying to dispel the inexplicable unease creeping up on her. "Get ready, Master—she’s coming!"

She vaguely heard Kairi mutter something like "Understood," but Mordred paid no heed. At this moment, her eyes were locked solely on the figure charging toward her atop a white steed, spear in hand.

Activate her Noble Phantasm—and then defeat her!

The Dragon’s Core within her roared to life, igniting her bloodline. Rising to her feet, she raised the cursed sword of kings high:

"Enough with this pointless chase, Black Faction’s Assassin! Now it’s time for the real game! Take this—Clarent Blood Arthur!"

Crimson lightning surged forward, dissolving even the hardest substances in its path. Yet, just as Kairi had anticipated, while the tunnel was destroyed, the chaotic magical energy was simultaneously compressed, concentrated into a single point, and unleashed in a furious, unified assault!

—The bloody twilight reflected in her eyes mirrored the sunset over Camlann’s hill.

The true name of Mordred’s Noble Phantasm echoed in Artoria’s ears, causing her to falter for a brief moment before she quickly regained her composure.

That was all in the past. The figure standing at the other end of the tunnel wasn’t the real Mordred—just an illusion carved into the Throne of Heroes.

And she was no longer the King of Britain, either—just a ghost who had lingered in Avalon for a thousand years, watching over the last of the Round Table.

But illusions and ghosts—when she thought about it, they were a fitting pair.

A faint smirk tugged at her lips at the sudden joke, but when Artoria lifted her gaze forward, the regal majesty and overwhelming pressure of the Lion King radiated from her without restraint.

Forgive me, Master—I’ll be borrowing your mana.

With that silent apology, Artoria tightened her grip on her spear. The magical energy swirling around it was already eager to be unleashed.

Against an enemy’s Noble Phantasm, the only response was to release one of her own in kind!

"From the heavens to the earth, it is the shining wedge that anchors the world’s end—Rhongomyniad!"

With her battle cry, a golden vortex spiraled around the spear, expanding like a colossal drill that instantly shattered the mountainside! The spiraling force, propelled by her steed’s charge, collided head-on with the roaring crimson lightning—and tore straight through it!

This was the Holy Spear—the storm anchor that bound the stars!

When its wielder unleashed it without restraint, the enemy would learn firsthand what an A++ Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm truly meant.

And this spear just so happened to have a certain... special advantage (or so the joke went).

The golden vortex surged forth, widening the tunnel several times over and shaking the entire hillside violently. Countless boulders tumbled down, yet amidst the chaos, that radiant light remained unwavering, obliterating everything in its path as it advanced—relentlessly, unstoppably—

"Guh—!" Mordred gritted her teeth, her eyes bloodshot. Desperately, she poured every ounce of her remaining mana into the sword of kings, yet Artoria’s spear pressed forward undeterred, closing the distance with terrifying speed. As their black cloaks billowed, their emerald eyes met for the briefest moment—and the familiar gaze, the resonance of their shared bloodline, struck Mordred like a bolt of lightning.

"You... You’re—!!"

"Not good, hold on tight, Saber!" The Noble Phantasms clashed within, causing the hill to let out mournful groans. Kairi’s hair stood on end as he immediately floored the accelerator without waiting for the engine to warm up, using the recoil from Mordred’s Noble Phantasm release to catapult the sports car forward!

BOOM!

The mountain collapsed, the tunnel’s fragile structure destroyed. Massive boulders tumbled down one after another, only to be ground into dust by the residual shockwaves of the two Noble Phantasms. Yet even so, the entire hillside came crashing down with tremendous force. The sports car continued speeding forward as flying debris buried the golden light surging behind them!

Emerging from the tunnel, the car abruptly slowed as if having fulfilled its purpose. Mordred stood dumbfounded on the rear, her sword of kingship having ceased its radiance at some point.

"Tch, what a shame—only got to enjoy driving this beauty for one night." Kairi regretfully patted the steering wheel before sticking his head out the window. "Saber... what’s wrong with you?!"

No wonder Kairi was shocked. In the legends of King Arthur, the Knight King Artoria Pendragon never aged during her reign, maintaining the appearance of the handsome youth who pulled the sword from the stone.

Though now female, it stood to reason that her direct descendant Mordred would share that slender build and utterly adorable maidenly features.

But Kairi had seen this girl happy, angry, petulant, even deeply humiliated—never like this.

That lovely, delicate face was now twisted with emotion. Mere humiliation and hatred couldn’t compose such complexity—only when mixed with admiration, affection, and longing could such breathtaking intensity emerge.

Those emerald eyes overflowed with the joy of reunion and madness, with violent premonitions.

Wait—that familiar expression... where had he seen it before...?

"Master."

"Huh?" The icy tone made Kairi shiver as Mordred continued.

"Leave. Get as far away as possible. Otherwise—I can’t promise I won’t tear you apart by accident."

What kind of battlefield would make Mordred consider eliminating her own Master as interference?

Understanding dawned on Kairi just as the collapsing mountain was blasted apart by golden light—

"Still as reckless as ever, Sir Mordred."

That clear voice. That familiar tone.

Trembling, Mordred tightened her grip on the sword, every hair standing on end. She stared fixedly at the regal figure dismounting her steed, removing the black cloak to reveal that dignified countenance, and spoke the title through clenched teeth.

"Father..."

The rebellious knight. The cursed child. Thus she called out.

Along with the crimson lightning howling behind her.