Suzuki's anxious heart was finally able to relax as Gilles de Rais and Jeanne d'Arc remained unharmed, while Berserker regretfully withdrew from the battle, leaving only three Servants remaining in this Holy Grail War. The witch Brunhilda was heavily injured and, unsurprisingly, would not be able to survive for much longer.
"It's not over yet... every one of you obstructs me! If it's purely based on strength, none of you Servants are a match for me!!!" Brunhilda pressed her hand against the pain inflicted upon her body and summoned her staff from the ground. She didn't want to give up like this. It was a rare opportunity for her to descend as Queen Austrasia; victory was within her grasp. However, due to the suicidal attacks of a Servant's lacking foresight, she was gradually being defeated. She refused to accept it. Before her blood and magical power ran dry, she would not submit to fate.
"If there are no surprises... the victor of this Holy Grail War will undoubtedly be me!" Brunhilda stood upright with her staff as she glared at Jeanne d'Arc and Gilles de Rais. She wished to pounce on the two Servants who were obstructing her and tear them apart.
"Milady, both deceit and conspiracy belong to warfare. In a fair place where victory is determined solely by one's fists, it is called a duel." Gilles de Rais pointed his broken sword at Brunhilda. Though his condition was far from ideal and his body exhausted, he still had confidence in dealing with an enemy who couldn't even stand properly.
Gilles de Rais was barely holding on, but Jeanne d'Arc did not need to struggle. Originally, she had intended to immediately retaliate and kill Brunhilda, but seeing the state of her barely surviving opponent, she refrained from taking action. "The outcome has already been decided, witch. Don't you wish to choose a dignified defeat?"
"Dignified? Honor? Hahaha..." The wounds on Brunhilda's body further ruptured. A Servant's body also had its limits for recovery. Having been struck by Berserker's Noble Phantasm head-on, she had sustained wounds that exceeded her limits. For a weaker Servant, it would have been impossible to stand up again. "All of you shall accompany me in death—"
As the staff rose alongside Brunhilda, the witch gathered all the remaining magical power. The fading magic core emitted a resplendent light as if experiencing a last burst of brilliance.
『A Trip to Hel Just For Me (Brynhild Komédia)』
Unable to comprehend what love is, unable to attain happiness, and plunging alone into the bottomless underworld, Brunhilda loathed her destiny. She truly desired to seize control of her future. Whether she was a witch or a Valkyrie, the journey she pursued would always end up being solitary. Therefore, she would destroy everything, ruin everything, and even destroy herself. Her twisted heart believed that only through such actions could she understand what love is and obtain eternal, unattainable happiness.
In the intertwining of myth and history, Brunhilda temporarily gained Odin's authority over runes, acknowledging her demise in exchange, unleashing a destructive light that shook the divine.
Brief runic characters floated before her as she moved her hand, and in that instant, all the magical power responded to the witch's incantation, leaving behind only the concept of destruction.
Flames erupted, and the unusually concentrated magical energy in the atmosphere immediately alerted Jeanne d'Arc and Gilles de Rais, who quickly moved away from Brunhilda.
The flames continued to intensify as if Brunhilda was igniting herself. In her mad laughter, she wrote down the final runic character. This act was not only her burial but also a self-destructive behavior that would drag everything within the range of her Noble Phantasm into the "Underworld."
Jeanne, upon seeing her own Master, had no time for joy. If it were only her and Gilles de Rais being taken away by the witch's Noble Phantasm, she would not be left with regrets. But her Master was still here. The Holy Grail War was not just a battlefield for Servants' clashes; it was also a battlefield for the competing magus Masters.
She stopped and turned towards Brunhilda in mid-air, resolutely holding the sword of Saint Catherine. The opponent had a hidden ace, and so did she. It was a coincidence that both were Noble Phantasms that could only be used once. Jeanne, as a Saber-class Servant, had refrained from using her Noble Phantasm precisely for this reason—once she unleashed it, she would inevitably perish.
Just as she was about to grasp the sharp blade, Jeanne was surprised when Gilles de Rais grabbed her hand, interrupting her action of revealing the true name of her Noble Phantasm. "Gilles de Rais, this Holy Grail War can come to an end."
"It can indeed come to an end. But please, let go of despair, Jeanne. You are not suited to wield a sword. Can I once again witness your figure proclaiming the name of the Lord?" Gilles de Rais took away Jeanne's sword of Saint Catherine and materialized a battle flag with his remaining magical energy.
"Luminosité Eternelle! (God is Here With Me)" Gilles de Rais, as well as any of the heroes of the Hundred Years' War who followed Jeanne in counterattacking the English, remembered that flag with the combined Cross of Lorraine and the royal emblem. Even if Jeanne died in the flames, that flag remained in their hearts.
The flag fluttered in the wind, requiring no further explanation. Jeanne immediately recognized it as the precious treasure she once held, the war flag she carried into the forefront of every battle.
"My flag..." She stretched out her hands and held the lost treasure, instantly feeling that she had found her distant past. The only thing that remained of her in Rouen, consumed by flames, was her faith. That's what she had always believed. The act of burning herself to give hope and victory to those around her would naturally leave nothing behind, and she dared not expect any reward.
Now the war flag had returned, and her former familiar comrades were by her side. That was her wish, the wish she begged for in the raging inferno. Until she lost consciousness, she had always fantasized about someone coming to save her.
"Thank you, and my friends who continue to fight and protect the flag."
The flames of despair and the stake gradually faded away, and Jeanne's heart was once again filled with that unique and sacred light. She had never forgotten that even if her body burned to ashes, a tiny spark of hope remained within, waiting to sprout and grow again one day.
Her wish had come true.
"Master! Marshal Gilles! Gather behind me! I will protect everyone now." Jeanne held the familiar war flag, and even as a Saber-class Servant, she could still call out the true name of her Noble Phantasm with hope in her heart.
"Oh, my flag, protect my comrades! My Lord is here!"
Jeanne raised the war flag and calmly faced the witch in mid-air. To protect her friends behind her, she was unafraid of the radiance that rivaled the Norse gods.
Suzuki and Gilles de Rais stood behind Jeanne, and despite being a gentle and delicate holy maiden, she gave them an incredible sense of trust. With the holy maiden guarding them, everything would be stopped.
"Disappear with me!" Brunhilda transformed into a witch, swung her staff, and her life came to an end. The intense black light engulfed everything around, including herself, all falling into darkness.
Without any sound, shockwaves, or light... No, Jeanne, who held the flag high, emitted a faint white light in this darkness that the darkness could not engulf.
Only two Servants remained, and the outcome was clear.
The darkness did not persist. When Suzuki regained consciousness, he saw that the sky was still azure. He and his Servant had emerged victorious.
---
"Has the battle over there ended?" Looking at the area shrouded in black light, Attila led her cavalry to briefly regroup in the center of the battlefield. She dismounted from her weary warhorse and mounted another. She could change horses on the battlefield, but more than half of the accompanying cavalry did not have that luxury.
They had charged like a broken bamboo towards the left flank where the heavy infantry of the Western Roman Empire was located, only to achieve a mutually damaging outcome. Understanding the consequences after the cavalry lost their speed advantage, Attila decisively led the cavalry to detour and retreat, refraining from engaging with the infantry.
Just moments ago, the right flank of the Western Roman coalition forces, consisting of the Goths, had lost their king. As a result, the morale of the right flank of the Western Roman coalition forces would rapidly decline and collapse. At that time, Attila could concentrate her superior forces and easily surround the elite left flank of Aetius. There was nowhere to hide on the plain, and this battle had turned into a river of blood within a few hours. But she believed that such sacrifices were worthwhile. The balance of victory had already tipped in their favor.
Attila did not care about the outcome of the battles between the Servants. With the Holy Grail in her hands, no one could take it away from her. If Brunhilda won, she could fulfill their shared covenant. If the future magus, Suzuki Yuki, won, she could refuse to recognize him and maintain complete control over the situation.
However, some would not allow Attila to have her way. In a normal battle, the current situation would determine the outcome, but Aetius was different. He flew out of the heavily guarded formation and used magecraft to forcibly rally the scattered mercenary cavalry. Though they numbered only a few thousand, they once again filled the center of the front line, reconnecting the crumbling Western Roman coalition forces.
"Aetius!" Attila shouted, snatching the large bow from her nearby guard and aiming it at the sky. In her eyes now, there was only the magus flying alone, and she was determined to eliminate him at any cost.
The arrow flew several kilometers and accurately hit Aetius in the air. The arrow, enhanced with magic power, shattered into wooden debris upon contact, while the arrowhead twisted into a piece of iron, piercing through Aetius' chest.
The magus did not fall. His body dissipated, revealing his true form nearby. The cunning Aetius had long been prepared.
"Come, Attila. Our battle needs to temporarily come to an end," he murmured, casting magecraft to boost the morale of the soldiers rallying on the ground nearby. As he anticipated, Attila led her cavalry towards his current position, launching another charge.
The mercenaries were undoubtedly doomed, but their fate would not decide the outcome. The chaotic right flank, where the infantry from both sides clashed, saw decapitations and fatal strikes happening at every moment, far more intense than the long-range exchanges on the left flank.
Aetius had arranged for the mobile cavalry detachment stationed on the high ground to arrive at this moment as planned. The death of the Gothic king was not part of his plan, and the situation was dire. The right flank could collapse at any moment. However, he was willing to take a gamble, betting on whether his forces would collapse first or if the enemy engaged amid the melee would be overwhelmed by the incoming mobile cavalry detachment.
Of course, this high-stakes gamble had one condition: he could not let Attila lead her cavalry to charge against his right flank. To achieve this, he willingly left the protection of his elite forces and led a group of remnants to buy time. As expected, Attila gave him the opportunity for a comeback.
