Chapter 30: The First Elimination

Saber remained slightly crouched, her breath coming in ragged hitches. Within the fading glow of the assault, her clear, pale jade eyes reflected Zoran's magnificent silhouette.

As expected, even that strike had failed to finish him.

Zoran emerged from the radiance. His gaze descended slowly, sweeping over the Servants before finally coming to rest on Artoria's face. His bony fingers lightly brushed the hem of his garment; a corner of his opulent Taoist robes crumbled into drifting ash.

From the start of the war until now, this was the very first time he had sustained any damage. Though it was merely a fragment of his robe, the sheer power and resolve behind the blow were enough to earn his recognition.

He quietly observed Saber. She was indeed a rare beauty, striking features paired with eyes of tempered steel, like a flower atop a high peak that no storm could break. It was a pity, however, that she stood on the opposite side as an enemy.

Zoran was not some "soft-hearted" anime protagonist looking to build a harem. Perhaps it was the influence of merging with Tso Lan's memory and life force, but he was now a Demon through and through, pure and uncompromising.

Straightening his posture, he spoke in a deep, resonant voice. "Everyone, your will has indeed brought me a spark of pleasure. This resolve has earned the respect of I, the Moon Demon..."

As his voice trailed off, his body ascended higher, lifted by the invisible hands of gravity.

"And this is both your fortune... and your misfortune."

He slowly spread his arms, an indescribable cosmic rhythm flowing through his entire being.

"Caster's Master... is he angry?" Waver whispered from a short distance away.

"No," Rider, Iskandar the King of Conquerors, replied with a heavy gaze. His vast experience allowed him to detect something far more deep. "It isn't anger. It is a sense of... joy?"

"Joy?"

"Correct. He seems to be enjoying himself..."

Zoran's silhouette reached the apex of the sky, hanging just beneath the blood-red firmament. His current human vessel could not exert the full extent of his power; after all, it was merely a form he had fashioned for himself. While handsome and ethereal, it was worlds apart from his true self.

He cast a glance below. Shendu's body was reconstructing, and before him, the Sword of Rupture erupted with a gargantuan pressure never seen before. That was Gilgamesh's final strike, a gamble upon his very honor.

The state of the battlefield was clear to him. This long night had gone on long enough; it was time for it to end.

His voice boomed like thunder, sending faint ripples through the air. A circular moon, dark purple, bordering on a deep, abyssal black, slowly manifested behind him. In a single heartbeat, it expanded, hanging in the heavens with a crushing sense of oppression.

Within the Reality Marble, the Moon had appeared.

He closed his eyes. His human form slowly drifted backward, sinking into the lunar phase like a body submerging into a still lake, stirring only the faintest ripples.

One second... two seconds...

Time seemed to stagnate. Amidst the bated breath of everyone below, a Demon several meters tall slowly emerged from the moon.

This was his true form.

He sat cross-legged, with the five centers facing the heavens (palms, soles, and crown of the head), exuding an indescribable nobility. One pair of smaller secondary arms was pressed together in a light prayer at his chest, while his primary hands rested upon his robes, palms turned toward the sky. Floating just above his right palm was the Pan'ku Box, its faint blue glow flickering rhythmically.

There was no outward fluctuation of energy from him, yet simply by hanging there, he seemed to swallow all ambient light.

He opened his eyes, revealing the crimson orbs unique to a Demon. He finally drifted out from the lunar phase.

On the ground, there was a deathly silence.

"This... this... has he been replaced? That's a monster... a demon... absolutely not a human!" Waver stammered.

Even though he had speculated about Zoran's identity, facing the entity's true form inspired a primal, soul-deep terror.

"I suspect... this is what that being truly looks like," Kayneth muttered from afar, his face pale with shock.

A demon's appearance is difficult to call "handsome" by human standards. But there are beings whose worth cannot be measured by aesthetics. Facing him, visual observation became useless; the only thing left was the raw instinct of a living organism.

"Kneel!" the being decreed.

Gravity leaped to execute his command. The air pressed down like a solidified mountain range. The ground buckled and sank as his edict reached every inch of the Reality Marble in an instant. The entire world dropped several meters in a single breath, further distancing the mortals from the monarch in the sky.

Masters and Servants alike were forced to one knee, their bodies sinking into the collapsing earth. The decree was enforced unconditionally on everyone. The Reality Marble was partitioned into squares of varying gravitational intensity to match each target's strength, but the result was identical: everyone was pinned down.

They would never reach the "truth" of resistance.

Zoran could manipulate his authority with microscopic precision. At his peak, he possessed absolute control over gravity, provided it did not exceed his own limits. As it was now, those who behold a sovereign must naturally bow. This was a rule that could not be defied.

In the distance, Gilgamesh was suppressed for a fleeting moment, the light swirling around Ea nearly extinguished. But in the next heartbeat, the restrictions on him were loosened.

He understood instantly. He offered a slight, respectful bow toward Zoran in the sky. It was the necessary respect given to a being who, despite possessing overwhelming power, was willing to honor a battle between kings.

He raised the Sword of Rupture and brought it down with a roar. Shendu, having fully recovered, lunged forward with a snarl. Every Noble Phantasm-grade power within him surged to provide support. The mana Zoran supplied reached its zenith, ready to be drawn upon without limit.

It was the collision of kings from different worlds.

In an instant, a wave of pure destruction smothered everything. Its light outshone the sun. Following that blinding clash, the world returned to silence.

The night was as still as water; the wharf stood empty and cold.

In a distant manor, deep within a hidden basement, Tokiomi Tohsaka's body suddenly stiffened over his desk. A wave of vertigo hit him, followed by a searing, rhythmic pain. With sweating palms, he gripped the unfinished letter in his hand, his face a mask of absolute horror.

His connection with Archer... was severed.