Grand Master of the Knights Templar, an honorable knight or a demon worshiper. The one with two sides… or rather, should I say ‘she’?
At least, what appeared before my eyes right now was definitely a man.
‘There’s no way the Rinnegan would show me a lie. He is definitely the real Jacques de Molay. The problem is…’
His capacity as a Servant, his Saint Graph, was below even Bedivere’s. At best, he was a second-rate Servant.
If I played my cards right, he was the kind of guy I could just ‘Assassin’ out of existence. For a moment, the thought of simply slicing him away crossed my mind, but I concluded it would be better to observe for now.
I had read all the memories of those who had become cold puppets, but they contained no information on any Servants, including the Jacques de Molay I just saw. To put it another way, even for those at a rank roughly equivalent to a Servant's direct subordinates, information was being strictly restricted.
Information restriction meant two things: they were being thorough in concealing themselves, and they moved so little that even those on the front lines had trouble recognizing their faces.
If I were to kill Jacques de Molay… Since only a Servant can kill a Servant, another would surely emerge, but it was highly likely that the thin connection I had finally managed to establish would be severed. As for crushing Molay’s soul and pressing him into my service as a Servant—that was out of the question. He was a Heroic Spirit who shouldn't exist in this era, so he must have been summoned through the Holy Grail. If I did something like that, the mastermind who used the Grail to summon him would surely notice.
‘According to the reconnaissance using the chimera birds, the forces besieging the Lion King’s Holy City number roughly 100,000. However, they rotate troops periodically to manage exhaustion, and that’s not counting the forces out requisitioning supplies or pillaging from civilians outside the Holy City, or those besieging the base of the Hassans. Raiding their main camp would be suicide.’
Even assuming I excluded the troops participating in the siege, those on patrol, and others absent from the main camp for various reasons, the number of troops residing in the headquarters seemed to exceed 500,000. Even this was the result of reconnaissance I had cut short for fear of my summons being detected; if I included the numbers I couldn't account for, the total would be even more staggering.
Bombarding them with the Asura Path or launching nuclear-level strikes was out of the question. Jacques de Molay’s presence suggested that many Servants related to the Crusades had been summoned. If I attacked now, I would likely just kill off the chaff, failing to lay a finger on the Servants who were the real targets. No, there was even a possibility the attack itself would be blocked entirely.
‘And Ritsuka… I’m not sure. I hope Gareth escorted him well…’
Mulling over various thoughts, I began to bury the fingers I had severed beforehand, little by little, into the ground.
I wouldn’t need them immediately, but it was 99 percent certain they would become my main enemies. If that were the case, wouldn’t it be better to prepare in advance rather than wasting precious Prana on attacks later? As I scattered these items—read as fingers, written as bombs—into the earth, I suddenly felt something through the vision of the Human Path I had sent out as a scout.
A soldier standing nearby rang a bell and blew a trumpet, his expression frozen in terror. Almost simultaneously, something looking like an invisible thread flew in and cleanly severed his neck.
‘…Threads? No, magical energy shaped like threads, like Arjuna’s… no, it’s an arrow!’
And… in this Sixth Singularity, there was only one person who would use such a weapon.
In the distance, along with the clouds of dust kicked up by horses' hooves, a knight with red hair and narrowed eyes was charging forth alongside the Lion King’s Enforcement Knights.
*
In an instant, the camp turned into a living hell.
The Enforcement Knights, who were evaluated to be capable of fighting a Servant if grouped together, and the Servant who was carving through such Enforcement Knights as if they were nothing—the sudden surprise attack instantly breached the camp's palisades. Knights clad in armor so thick it looked cumbersome to move in began mercilessly slaughtering the soldiers, who wore light or leather armor.
“Do not panic! Form up and surround them five-to-one!”
“Commanders, use Reinforcement on your bodies! If you sever the limbs of those puppets, they will naturally collapse!”
The crusader side at the camp certainly had the numerical advantage, but the disparity in troop quality and the Heroic Spirit commanding them dictated the battle's outcome.
The strength of the Enforcement Knights, who attacked without recognizing me, was impressive, but Tristan, a Knight of the Round Table, was overwhelming the commander, Jacques de Molay, with a barrage of attacks.
“The commander is being pushed back!”
“Hold the line!!!”
Whenever massive weapons like halberds, spears, and war hammers swung, blood sprayed and the bodies of the crusaders fell.
Whenever a few soldiers tried to show their backs and flee, knights in black armor would step forward and turn their backs into pincushions. Knights who bunched together in groups of five to resist were soon roasted into golden-brown treats by the bombardment from magi wearing light armor and cloaks.
Of course, some soldiers succeeded in their escape.
Some fled to save their own lives, others to seek help from another camp. Driven by one of these two goals, soldiers tried to leave the barracks to find their own path to survival, and it was impossible for the small number of Enforcement Knights to catch them all.
“How persistent.”
“That is not for you to say, after slaughtering my men!”
Naturally, total annihilation would be possible if Tristan took action, but as long as Molay held him at bay—even if he was losing—Tristan lacked the leeway to pursue them.
Yes, Tristan lacked that leeway.
“Co-Commander, what are you doing here… Gaaah!!”
A fake commander hidden among them.
“I-I’m going to live, I’m going to survive! Get out of the way, please let me escape… Aaargh, noooo!!!!”
And five fake soldiers.
Since I had split the abilities of the Six Paths into six puppets, their individual stats were on the lower side. However, they were more than enough to handle dregs who knew nothing except for basic physical reinforcement through magecraft.
The fleeing soldiers and those carrying seemingly important documents were caught in an instant and decapitated. Those who returned from the retreat blocked by the beasts summoned by the Animal Path were eventually ended, brutally slaughtered by the Enforcement Knights.
Finally, there was Jacques de Molay.
Holding a sword in one hand and a shield in the other, he resisted Tristan's attacks flying from all directions. However, perhaps he couldn't handle the additional pressure from the Enforcement Knights who had finished clearing the surrounding forces; before long, a massive wound was carved into his thigh. At that moment, three arrows fired by Tristan took his head in an instant.
“…Phew, how sad.”
“Quite the skill, Tristan.”
“No more so than yours.”
As I revealed myself from my hiding spot, Tristan greeted me with an easygoing smile.
“How did you know?”
“One would have to be a fool not to make the connection after seeing the six puppets assisting the Enforcement Knights and the Phantasmal Beasts surrounding the camp.”
“…That’s true. Is Ritsuka in the Holy City right now?”
“Sir Gareth escorted him. It hasn’t been long since they arrived, but fortunately, everyone is safe.”
“That’s a relief. Then explain things to me as we go—how exactly this Singularity is working, and who holds the Holy Grail.”
“As you wish. Everyone, burn the camp to the ground and prepare to withdraw.”
I spoke up, puzzled by Tristan’s command.
“Is there a need to go so far as to burn it? Since we’ve made such a mess of the place, they won’t be able to use this camp anymore anyway… More importantly, what’s with these soldiers? If they were summoned by the Grail, shouldn’t they all be scattering into light…”
In that moment, I felt an intuition that something was wrong.
The head was severed, a limb was gone, and the spiritual core was shattered.
…So why wasn’t Jacques de Molay demanifesting?
“…Master, you must listen carefully to what I am about to say. In this Singularity, they do not demanifest when killed.”
“A resurrection trait… Looks like I’ve drawn a damnably troublesome lot. That means we’re forced into a war of attrition.”
“No, it is not resurrection.”
[Abîme, abîme, domina. Chant in chorus, eternal brothers.]
I saw it.
The sight of a headless corpse, which until just moments ago was wearing armor that clearly identified him as part of the ‘Knights Templar’… transforming.
Ash-colored hair, nearly gray. The glasses were the same, but the appearance had changed completely.
A shield covered in sharp thorns, a sword blade stained black, a décolletage-style outfit and dress that provocatively exposed the chest instead of armor and cloth garments… and a woman’s body to match.
It was likely the first time I had seen a ‘Foreigner’ class since coming to Chaldea.
“…That’s not an Alter. This isn’t a case like Jeanne d'Arc.”
“…The King described it as ‘Corruption,’ but in truth, we do not know either. We do not know its true essence. All we can do right now is seal them by storing them within the King’s Holy Spear—Rhongomyniad, but the casualties are high and the depletion is extreme, so we have effectively given up on that.”
“I’ll seal it for now. That much should be fine, right?”
“Yes, please.”
Just before the severed head could reattach, I transformed my hand with the Asura Path, forcibly keeping the head away. Then, I opened the mouth of the Naraka Path and threw Jacques de Molay’s body inside. That form, now completely mutated with not even a shred of the former ‘knight’ remaining… seemed to imply that this Singularity would be anything but easy.
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