The sky rumbled with dark clouds and lightning illuminated the bloody scene below. The cacophony of the wilderness was punctuated by the haunting echoes of mournful cries and clashing swords that persisted in the cold wind.
The gruesome remnants of the battle lay piled up, casting a grim and terrifying shadow over the already reddish-brown soil. The blood flowed ceaselessly, refusing to coagulate, and the thick haze above refused to disperse. The pervasive stench of blood was suffocating.
Despite the horror of the scene, the war raged on without mercy.
As the sun began to set, its blood-red hue painted the sky. The king's army, composed of both naval and land forces, stood resolute in the face of the beast tide.
A blazing trail of white-hot light burst forth from the heart of Camelot, streaking across the sky like a shooting star before plummeting to earth with a thunderous roar.
"Boom, boom, boom, boom--"
The sound of continuous artillery fire shook the ground beneath their feet, a relentless barrage that rained down indiscriminately upon man and beast alike. Explosions erupted across the landscape, each one accompanied by a deafening boom that echoed across the hills and valleys.
In the wake of the onslaught, the ground was littered with the dismembered remains of those who had been caught in the crossfire. Blood stained the earth a deep, crimson red, a grim testament to the carnage that had been wrought upon the land.
Shirou stood amidst the bloodshed, his eyes fixed on the carnage before him. With a fierce roar, he cried out, "Charge!"
"Charge!!!" echoed his soldiers, their battle cries drowning out the relentless artillery fire. They raised their spears, fully aware of the sacrifice they would make as they bravely followed their king's lead. Together, they charged towards the fortified city of Londinium.
Despite facing tens of thousands of airborne and land beasts with less than three thousand soldiers, their spirit was indomitable, making them akin to fierce beasts themselves.
Like lions and tigers, they braved mountains and rivers, fearlessly charging forward in the face of overwhelming odds.
Artoria rode her warhorse into the midst of the beasts, wielding two spears and the King's sword on her back. She fought her way through the hordes of enemies, carving a path with ease as if the land before her was empty.
As the battle raged on, both spears were shattered, but she refused to back down. She drew the King's sword, and with every swing, she created a living path of blood, relentlessly pushing forward.
As the sun began to set, Gawain, the sun knight, found himself covered in blood, having lost the blessing of the sun. However, he seemed more powerful than ever, his sword blurring with afterimages as he charged and fought his way through the sea of beasts.
His soldiers were no different, leading the charge with fierce determination as they fought their way in and out of the horde of beasts, drenched in blood but refusing to falter.
The army charged forward, and the sea of beasts let out a deafening roar. The two swarms of creatures clashed and intertwined, creating a gruesome spectacle in an instant. The air was filled with a thick mist of blood, and mournful cries echoed throughout the battlefield.
As the army charged forward, a one-eyed man emerged from their ranks, wielding his weapon with fierce determination to fight against the beasts. The sharp claws of the beasts howled, and the man, who had once boasted of his love for wine, found himself on the brink of death. Nevertheless, he summoned his "Battle Continuation" skill, using his body as a shield to resist the onslaught of the beasts.
Despite his injuries, he continued to fight, with blood dripping down his armor and staining his face a tragic shade of red. With a mighty roar, he thrust his spear forward, killing the beast before him. But his strength was fading, and his body grew weak as he collapsed to the ground, blood spilling out around him.
With his pale fingers trembling, he pointed towards the Londinium.
As tears mixed with blood, and sadness mingled with anger, another man strode past the fallen one-eyed man, wielding his spear as he charged headlong into the sea of beasts.
Together, they fought their way in and out of the fray, their ears filled with the mournful cries of the beasts, and their vision consumed by the sight of scattered bones in their wake.
In the end, Gae Bolg lay broken, and the armor on their body shattered, revealing their burly physique. But undeterred, they gripped the broken spear and launched a fierce and ferocious strike.
With one final effort, the broken spear struck home, sending sand and stones flying as the sky darkened. Yet even as the strike landed, the battle raged on around them, with sword, wind, stones, and fireballs whirling through the air.
The beasts swarmed like a raging sea, their grim faces and sharp teeth tearing at flesh. In their last stand, the soldiers seized one by the throat, sinking their teeth deep into the beast's flesh. The scorching hot blood flowed down their throats.
The beast let out a final, deafening scream before collapsing, motionless. However, the soldiers were also losing consciousness, eaten by the surrounding beasts. As they teetered on the brink of death, they gazed up at the gray sky that trembled and dissolved like an endless expanse of quivering sea.
Their consciousness slowly faded away until they were left with only a pale, bloodied hand pointing forward.
But even this final gesture was swallowed up and buried by the merciless beasts.
...
Camelot.
The god scowled, irritated by the ants' unyielding nature. He summoned all the magical energy from the Tower of Light and unleashed it towards Hadrian's Wall.
A blinding beam of light descended from the heavens like a whip, lashing out across the earth in a searing flash that illuminated every corner of the night world. In an instant, all life in its path was utterly obliterated, consumed by the scorching brightness.
The sky echoed with the deafening sound of explosions, a relentless barrage of force raining down from above. Life, fragile as glass, shattered and broke in an endless sea of blood, the landscape rendered a wasteland of devastation.
As they lay dying, the fallen soldiers saw the smiling faces of their wives and children in their eyes. Their once-beautiful hopes and dreams now lay in ruins, replaced by an overwhelming sense of despair.
The soldiers who were still fighting could only hear the piercing cries of their fallen comrades and see death swirling around them. The sight filled their hearts with great sorrow.
Suddenly, they heard the fallen soldiers shouting out their final words with their last dying breaths.
"We... march forward... through the mountains of swords... and the sea of fire. We charge forth to fight, never turning back.... even in death!"
Upon hearing this, the fighting soldiers shook with emotion, and the flames of determination were ignited within them, giving them the strength to continue the fight.
"We march forward through the mountains of swords and the sea of fire. We charge forth to fight, never turning back even in death!"
The soldiers' cries echoed relentlessly, like sparks igniting and burning fiercely across the land.
These brave people gave up their lives, leaving their legacy to shine across the land.
The king hurriedly made his way to the city of Londinium.
Upon his arrival, the general of the city was stricken with alarm and quickly activated the barrier, resembling a divine shield that would protect the city.
Despite being disheveled and stained with blood, the king maintained a remarkably calm expression.
He unleashed all of his "Evil," an ominous force that embodied the blood-red, inhuman evil and the pitch-black evil, intertwining to become the epitome of this world's malevolence. The wicked energy surged like a tidal wave, crashing onto the barrier.
"Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle--"
The thick malice eroded the barrier.
The general of Londinium was greatly alarmed.
"What is this thing? How could it destroy the city's barrier so easily?"
With no other choice, the general put on his armor, gripped his sword, and led the Saxon warriors out of the city to charge at the enemy.
The king lifted his sword high and shouted, "My heroes, victory is within our hand. Charge with me!"
The relentless barrage of heavenly artillery raged on without pause, each blast striking with the force of a thousand thunderbolts. And yet, the remaining soldiers refused to back down. With a fierce determination burning in their hearts, they charged forward, leaving a trail of broken corpses in their wake.
This was their final gamble!
The two armies surged forward with a primal ferocity, their lines colliding with a thunderous roar. In an instant, the battlefield was transformed into a whirlwind of steel and blood, as the combatants clashed with an intensity born of desperation.
The air was thick with a crimson mist, the scent of iron filling their nostrils as they fought on. The sounds of battle were deafening - the clang of swords, the screams of the dying, and the cries of grief echoing everywhere.
Amid the chaos, the king led his troops into the city, his sword glinting in the light as he carved his way through the enemy lines. The blades of his soldiers intertwined with those of their foes, the clash of metal ringing out like a symphony of death.
With each stroke, they cut down all those who dared to block their path, their weapons slicing through flesh and bone with ease.
After slaughtering the Saxons, Shirou, Artoria, and the other knights charged straight to the top of the city and into the throne room, where they slew the general inside.
...
The land around Londinium had already been conquered and divided among the various kings.
Monsters still rampaged on the ground, in the sea, and in the sky. Nevertheless, the moment they claimed the throne, it was undoubtedly declared that the city had changed hands!
However...
The Tower of Light, connecting the heavens and the earth, had not yet disappeared!
On the contrary, it burst forth with an even more dazzling light, as if it were about to unleash all of its power in the next moment to annihilate both Londinium and the king's army.
The king's expression grew heavy. Wasn't this supposed to be the solution to stop the power of the gods?
No...
It wasn't that it couldn't be stopped. It was that they hadn't taken enough land!
But now, there was no time left to take more land.
The fury of the god was already raging, and he was about to unleash his final divine punishment upon those ants who dared to drag him down from his throne.
No force could withstand this strike. It was the last strike of the last god!
However...
A blood moon rose slowly in the sky.
Suddenly, a terrified cry echoed from one of the kings through the alchemy stones that connected them.
"Monsters... monsters...!"
"What are these? What are these!?"
Eventually, all that could be heard was the sound of gnawing.
The blood moon loomed overhead, and as the last flames of the Tower of Light flickered out, only a faint outline of the tower remained visible.
The King gazed up at the blood moon, a heavy weight settling in his heart.
Meanwhile, the last god was seething with anger and clenched his teeth as he exclaimed, "Those damn bloodsuckers!"
It was evident that even the followers of the Crimson Moon, who held sway over one of the island's domains, felt the threat of the last god. Like the northern kings, they began to invade the land, ultimately becoming the final straw that broke the camel's back.
The fortress was captured, the commander slain, and the monsters that had lurked within its walls were left leaderless, scattering in all directions like headless chickens.
It was impossible to determine the exact number of casualties from this conquest, but it was enough to form an ocean of lost souls.
The soldiers in the land were but a plain of shattered remains, their reflections visible in the crimson blood. Those who remained had forgotten the joys of life, the sound of crying babies in their swaddling clothes, the sight of their hardworking wives tilling the fields, and the gradual withering away of their aging mothers. Their eyes were devoid of any sentiment except for the constant flow of hot blood through their veins.
Broken branches with unrecognizable limbs hanging from them could occasionally be seen. The sounds of fighting, roaring, shouting, and clashing that were audible just a moment ago had vanished, intensifying the already eerie silence.
It's unclear how much time had passed, but in the midst of the billowing smoke, the remaining fires were extinguished, leaving behind a deathly silence.
The sky rumbled with dark clouds and lightning illuminated the bloody scene below. The cacophony of the wilderness was punctuated by the haunting echoes of mournful cries and clashing swords that persisted in the cold wind.
The gruesome remnants of the battle lay piled up, casting a grim and terrifying shadow over the already reddish-brown soil. The blood flowed ceaselessly, refusing to coagulate, and the thick haze above refused to disperse. The pervasive stench of blood was suffocating.
Despite the horror of the scene, the war raged on without mercy.
As the sun began to set, its blood-red hue painted the sky. The king's army, composed of both naval and land forces, stood resolute in the face of the beast tide.
A blazing trail of white-hot light burst forth from the heart of Camelot, streaking across the sky like a shooting star before plummeting to earth with a thunderous roar.
"Boom, boom, boom, boom--"
The sound of continuous artillery fire shook the ground beneath their feet, a relentless barrage that rained down indiscriminately upon man and beast alike. Explosions erupted across the landscape, each one accompanied by a deafening boom that echoed across the hills and valleys.
In the wake of the onslaught, the ground was littered with the dismembered remains of those who had been caught in the crossfire. Blood stained the earth a deep, crimson red, a grim testament to the carnage that had been wrought upon the land.
Shirou stood amidst the bloodshed, his eyes fixed on the carnage before him. With a fierce roar, he cried out, "Charge!"
"Charge!!!" echoed his soldiers, their battle cries drowning out the relentless artillery fire. They raised their spears, fully aware of the sacrifice they would make as they bravely followed their king's lead. Together, they charged towards the fortified city of Londinium.
Despite facing tens of thousands of airborne and land beasts with less than three thousand soldiers, their spirit was indomitable, making them akin to fierce beasts themselves.
Like lions and tigers, they braved mountains and rivers, fearlessly charging forward in the face of overwhelming odds.
Artoria rode her warhorse into the midst of the beasts, wielding two spears and the King's sword on her back. She fought her way through the hordes of enemies, carving a path with ease as if the land before her was empty.
As the battle raged on, both spears were shattered, but she refused to back down. She drew the King's sword, and with every swing, she created a living path of blood, relentlessly pushing forward.
As the sun began to set, Gawain, the sun knight, found himself covered in blood, having lost the blessing of the sun. However, he seemed more powerful than ever, his sword blurring with afterimages as he charged and fought his way through the sea of beasts.
His soldiers were no different, leading the charge with fierce determination as they fought their way in and out of the horde of beasts, drenched in blood but refusing to falter.
The army charged forward, and the sea of beasts let out a deafening roar. The two swarms of creatures clashed and intertwined, creating a gruesome spectacle in an instant. The air was filled with a thick mist of blood, and mournful cries echoed throughout the battlefield.
As the army charged forward, a one-eyed man emerged from their ranks, wielding his weapon with fierce determination to fight against the beasts. The sharp claws of the beasts howled, and the man, who had once boasted of his love for wine, found himself on the brink of death. Nevertheless, he summoned his "Battle Continuation" skill, using his body as a shield to resist the onslaught of the beasts.
Despite his injuries, he continued to fight, with blood dripping down his armor and staining his face a tragic shade of red. With a mighty roar, he thrust his spear forward, killing the beast before him. But his strength was fading, and his body grew weak as he collapsed to the ground, blood spilling out around him.
With his pale fingers trembling, he pointed towards the Londinium.
As tears mixed with blood, and sadness mingled with anger, another man strode past the fallen one-eyed man, wielding his spear as he charged headlong into the sea of beasts.
Together, they fought their way in and out of the fray, their ears filled with the mournful cries of the beasts, and their vision consumed by the sight of scattered bones in their wake.
In the end, Gae Bolg lay broken, and the armor on their body shattered, revealing their burly physique. But undeterred, they gripped the broken spear and launched a fierce and ferocious strike.
With one final effort, the broken spear struck home, sending sand and stones flying as the sky darkened. Yet even as the strike landed, the battle raged on around them, with sword, wind, stones, and fireballs whirling through the air.
The beasts swarmed like a raging sea, their grim faces and sharp teeth tearing at flesh. In their last stand, the soldiers seized one by the throat, sinking their teeth deep into the beast's flesh. The scorching hot blood flowed down their throats.
The beast let out a final, deafening scream before collapsing, motionless. However, the soldiers were also losing consciousness, eaten by the surrounding beasts. As they teetered on the brink of death, they gazed up at the gray sky that trembled and dissolved like an endless expanse of quivering sea.
Their consciousness slowly faded away until they were left with only a pale, bloodied hand pointing forward.
But even this final gesture was swallowed up and buried by the merciless beasts.
...
Camelot.
The god scowled, irritated by the ants' unyielding nature. He summoned all the magical energy from the Tower of Light and unleashed it towards Hadrian's Wall.
A blinding beam of light descended from the heavens like a whip, lashing out across the earth in a searing flash that illuminated every corner of the night world. In an instant, all life in its path was utterly obliterated, consumed by the scorching brightness.
The sky echoed with the deafening sound of explosions, a relentless barrage of force raining down from above. Life, fragile as glass, shattered and broke in an endless sea of blood, the landscape rendered a wasteland of devastation.
As they lay dying, the fallen soldiers saw the smiling faces of their wives and children in their eyes. Their once-beautiful hopes and dreams now lay in ruins, replaced by an overwhelming sense of despair.
The soldiers who were still fighting could only hear the piercing cries of their fallen comrades and see death swirling around them. The sight filled their hearts with great sorrow.
Suddenly, they heard the fallen soldiers shouting out their final words with their last dying breaths.
"We... march forward... through the mountains of swords... and the sea of fire. We charge forth to fight, never turning back.... even in death!"
Upon hearing this, the fighting soldiers shook with emotion, and the flames of determination were ignited within them, giving them the strength to continue the fight.
"We march forward through the mountains of swords and the sea of fire. We charge forth to fight, never turning back even in death!"
The soldiers' cries echoed relentlessly, like sparks igniting and burning fiercely across the land.
These brave people gave up their lives, leaving their legacy to shine across the land.
The king hurriedly made his way to the city of Londinium.
Upon his arrival, the general of the city was stricken with alarm and quickly activated the barrier, resembling a divine shield that would protect the city.
Despite being disheveled and stained with blood, the king maintained a remarkably calm expression.
He unleashed all of his "Evil," an ominous force that embodied the blood-red, inhuman evil and the pitch-black evil, intertwining to become the epitome of this world's malevolence. The wicked energy surged like a tidal wave, crashing onto the barrier.
"Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle--"
The thick malice eroded the barrier.
The general of Londinium was greatly alarmed.
"What is this thing? How could it destroy the city's barrier so easily?"
With no other choice, the general put on his armor, gripped his sword, and led the Saxon warriors out of the city to charge at the enemy.
The king lifted his sword high and shouted, "My heroes, victory is within our hand. Charge with me!"
The relentless barrage of heavenly artillery raged on without pause, each blast striking with the force of a thousand thunderbolts. And yet, the remaining soldiers refused to back down. With a fierce determination burning in their hearts, they charged forward, leaving a trail of broken corpses in their wake.
This was their final gamble!
The two armies surged forward with a primal ferocity, their lines colliding with a thunderous roar. In an instant, the battlefield was transformed into a whirlwind of steel and blood, as the combatants clashed with an intensity born of desperation.
The air was thick with a crimson mist, the scent of iron filling their nostrils as they fought on. The sounds of battle were deafening - the clang of swords, the screams of the dying, and the cries of grief echoing everywhere.
Amid the chaos, the king led his troops into the city, his sword glinting in the light as he carved his way through the enemy lines. The blades of his soldiers intertwined with those of their foes, the clash of metal ringing out like a symphony of death.
With each stroke, they cut down all those who dared to block their path, their weapons slicing through flesh and bone with ease.
After slaughtering the Saxons, Shirou, Artoria, and the other knights charged straight to the top of the city and into the throne room, where they slew the general inside.
...
The land around Londinium had already been conquered and divided among the various kings.
Monsters still rampaged on the ground, in the sea, and in the sky. Nevertheless, the moment they claimed the throne, it was undoubtedly declared that the city had changed hands!
However...
The Tower of Light, connecting the heavens and the earth, had not yet disappeared!
On the contrary, it burst forth with an even more dazzling light, as if it were about to unleash all of its power in the next moment to annihilate both Londinium and the king's army.
The king's expression grew heavy. Wasn't this supposed to be the solution to stop the power of the gods?
No...
It wasn't that it couldn't be stopped. It was that they hadn't taken enough land!
But now, there was no time left to take more land.
The fury of the god was already raging, and he was about to unleash his final divine punishment upon those ants who dared to drag him down from his throne.
No force could withstand this strike. It was the last strike of the last god!
However...
A blood moon rose slowly in the sky.
Suddenly, a terrified cry echoed from one of the kings through the alchemy stones that connected them.
"Monsters... monsters...!"
"What are these? What are these!?"
Eventually, all that could be heard was the sound of gnawing.
The blood moon loomed overhead, and as the last flames of the Tower of Light flickered out, only a faint outline of the tower remained visible.
The King gazed up at the blood moon, a heavy weight settling in his heart.
Meanwhile, the last god was seething with anger and clenched his teeth as he exclaimed, "Those damn bloodsuckers!"
It was evident that even the followers of the Crimson Moon, who held sway over one of the island's domains, felt the threat of the last god. Like the northern kings, they began to invade the land, ultimately becoming the final straw that broke the camel's back.
The fortress was captured, the commander slain, and the monsters that had lurked within its walls were left leaderless, scattering in all directions like headless chickens.
It was impossible to determine the exact number of casualties from this conquest, but it was enough to form an ocean of lost souls.
The soldiers in the land were but a plain of shattered remains, their reflections visible in the crimson blood. Those who remained had forgotten the joys of life, the sound of crying babies in their swaddling clothes, the sight of their hardworking wives tilling the fields, and the gradual withering away of their aging mothers. Their eyes were devoid of any sentiment except for the constant flow of hot blood through their veins.
Broken branches with unrecognizable limbs hanging from them could occasionally be seen. The sounds of fighting, roaring, shouting, and clashing that were audible just a moment ago had vanished, intensifying the already eerie silence.
It's unclear how much time had passed, but in the midst of the billowing smoke, the remaining fires were extinguished, leaving behind a deathly silence.
