Fate: But This Is Not Solomon I Know!

Maine-et-Loire Province — Refuge Zone.

Ritsuka's group had been resting for two full days, ever since the life-or-death battle with Emiya Shirou at the anchor point of the [Great Book]—a place once shaken by the radiance of holy swords and the thunderous roar of clashing steel.

That battle had left more than physical wounds. It carved deep into their hearts a fear bearing a name: Solomon the Holy Sovereign—the true master of the holy swords and the Wonder Ride Books, whose power rivals even that of Grand Servants.

A force like that... cannot be underestimated.

They hadn't forgotten the crushing helplessness as they watched Heroic Spirits fall—bodies turning into radiant dust, souls dissolving into the ether, leaving behind an emptiness that could never be filled.

Yet from those losses, a new resolve was born:

This Singularity must be brought to an end. Even if it costs them everything.

"...Has everyone rested enough?"

"If so, then today... we strike directly at the headquarters of the Sword of Logos."

Romulus spoke, his voice deep and steady like a bronze bell. His eyes, cold as tempered steel, swept across the group. In that gaze—duty, and an unwavering resolve. There was no room left for hesitation.

"Hm... I'd like this farce to end soon too."

Taigong Wang shook his head, fingers brushing his temple, as though the killing intent from the last battle still lingered in layers behind his eyes.

"Yes. The sooner we end this, the sooner peace returns to the world."

Ritsuka nodded, clenching a fist—trying to ignite a fire in himself… and in the comrades standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Then let's move out."

"Today—we strike the sword order!"

"OOOOHH—!!!"

A thunderous chorus, like lightning cracking the sky apart, ignited every nerve and burned away the heavy air left by grief.

After thorough preparation, the army began its march toward Bayeux—holy ground of the Sword of Logos.

The journey stretched across a full day, winding through desolate forests and death-ridden plains. At last, they reached Normandy again.

Before them stood Castle Logos, rising like a spear aimed at the gray heavens. Its white walls were cold and still—like a corpse draped in burial cloth. Blood-red patterns pulsed across the surface like sluggish veins clinging to a dead heart.

The knights advanced along an ancient stone path.

Behind them, supply carts creaked under the weight of rations, weapons, and arcane tomes. From afar, the scene looked like a host from legend—solemn, ordered, and brimming with regal presence.

"It's... breathtakingly grand..."

Ritsuka murmured, eyes quietly sweeping over the ones marching behind him.

"Everyone's ready. Everyone's... betting their lives on this."

Mash smiled gently—her voice light as a breeze, but her eyes burned with unshakable resolve.

She turned to Jeanne, tilting her head slightly:

"Lady Jeanne, are you alright?"

"Ah... I'm fine."

Jeanne gave a soft shake of her head, as if to clear away a storm of thoughts.

"It's just... something weighing on my mind."

"A... Everyone—we've arrived."

The column came to a halt.

No one spoke. They stood before a palace white as snow, where light and death intertwined like silk and steel.

"Zoth-senpai really knows how to... show off."

Ritsuka muttered, voice dry.

"If you've got money, anything's possible…"

Someone chuckled—a joke half-hearted at best.

"Could you guys focus on that Logos over there!?"

Jalter snapped, hand already clenched around her sword hilt.

"Umu! Compared to my palace, this is second-rate at best!"

Nero lifted her chin proudly.

"You're the last person who should talk!"

—Shouts mixed with laughter. The air, strung tight like a bowstring, loosened just a little.

But the laughter had no time to fade—

BOOM!!

The ground trembled. A low, rhythmic thunder echoed—the sound of marching war-beasts.

From the distance, hordes of Megids and Dragon Fang Soldiers charged forth like metallic beasts, eyes ablaze, jaws of iron roaring in bloodlust.

"Defensive formation! Hold the line!!"

The knights' cries rang out like war drums. Shields raised, magical barriers flared to life, and spears and blades gleamed in unison.

"All Heroic Spirits and Chaldea personnel—advance!

The rear—leave it to us!"

Jeanne raised her sacred banner high, eyes gleaming like untarnished steel—unflinching.

"Thank you... Lady Jeanne."

Ritsuka gave a respectful nod, then turned and joined the strike force heading for Castle Logos.

Behind them—

Steel clashed against steel.

Screams ripped the sky.

The banner whipped in the wind. Blood spilled on stone. Light turned cruel and crimson.

"Everyone!"

Ritsuka looked back, shouting:

"To end this destruction—please, fight to the very end!!"

"OOOOHH—!!!"

His call thundered into the hearts of all who heard.

No one turned back. No one faltered.

Because they knew—

To end this apocalyptic fate...

There was only one path left:

Forward.

---

Bayeux, Normandy — Inside the Castle of the Sword of Logos.

The heart of the castle blazed with towering magical pillars of light, but the air was cold—cold like steel freshly drawn from its sheath, sharp enough to choke.

As Ritsuka's group stepped inside, they were struck speechless by the dark, fantastical scene laid before them:

Zoth, the Holy Sovereign Solomon, sat arrogantly upon a blood-red throne.

Its surface bled like open veins, spilling out over the floor in patterns that pulsed like the capillaries of a living beast.

His eyes glimmered with malice, and thick black miasma coiled around his form—gazing upon them like a god passing judgment on the last defiant sinners.

"Ooh… you've arrived~, Chaldea…

And—"

Zoth rose from his throne. His eyes flickered like infernal flame, and a grotesque grin stretched unnaturally across his face.

"—the Heroic Spirits~."

"Zoth-senpai!!" ×2

"You bastard, Zoth!!"

Three voices exploded like thunder. Their chests trembled with fury.

Fists clenched. Eyes burned. Every gaze bore down on the man who now stood atop the shattered ruins of their once-shared ideals.

"...I told you already…"

Zoth raised a brow and rubbed his temple like a weary old man tired of scolding children who never learn.

He sighed—long and exasperated.

"I am Solomon the Holy Sovereign.

Not the lazy otaku you used to know...

Got that clear yet?"

"We know…"

Mash gritted her teeth, her shield trembling in her grip.

"…But we never thought… Zoth-senpai would become this kind of person."

"Oh? Surprised~?"

His eyes suddenly flared with burning orange light. His face twisted—grin slanted like a mad clown's cracked mask.

"But hey~… does that even matter now?

This is who I really am."

His voice dropped—cold and ancient, like the breath of a glacial age.

"So then…

Are you all ready to die~?"

He reached behind himself. Slowly. But the motion alone exuded such pressure, the very air trembled—like the world was holding its breath.

"You—!!

Just how long are you planning to keep up this insane charade!?"

Jalter snarled. Her hand gripped her sword hilt tight, her eyes ablaze.

"Insane…?"

Zoth chuckled softly—his voice like a blade scraping raw nerves.

"No, no. I'm dead serious.

You don't like it?

Too bad~.

That's not my problem."

"You—!"

Jalter clenched her jaw, teeth grinding.

The flag in her hand quivered as the killing aura around her began to surge like a storm.

"Ah, looks like we've talked enough..."

His voice suddenly dropped—cold and dead, as if the entire space had frozen solid.

"Now it's time you all tasted something called... despair."

[Flick!]

He drew out a Wonder Ride Book—[Omni Force]—

The book trembled in his hand, oozing an aura as if a demon god was awakening.

He slotted it into the Driver at his waist.

[Omni Force!]

[The combined power of 10 Sacred Swords and 19 Wonder Ride Books! Behold—the Chronicle of the Neo Demon God!]

A pillar of golden dust exploded from beneath his feet—

like molten lava erupting from the deepest hell.

Black mist surged upward, thick as tar, like the blood of a rotting world bleeding out.

Behind him, a massive Wonder Ride Book opened, each page the size of a battlefield—

releasing an endless torrent of black ether that blotted out the entire sky.

The ground quaked.

Cracks tore across the floor in jagged lines.

The wind screamed.

Grass and trees withered to dust in an instant.

"What the hell is that?!"

Ritsuka gasped, eyes wide. His throat locked at the sight of this apocalyptic nightmare.

"Don't let that black mist touch you!"

Taigong Wang shouted, his magical senses violently ringing alarms.

"It corrodes everything—mana, spells, even life itself!"

"This power… it's way beyond the Zoth-senpai we knew in Chaldea…"

Mash's voice trembled.

"And now…"

Zoth raised his hand to the Driver.

Each finger moved with the weight of a death sentence.

"The fate of this world… will be rewritten—by me."

He pressed the Driver.

[Open The Omnimus!]

[Force Of The God!]

[Kamen Rider… Solomon!]

[Fear Is Coming… Soon!]

The heavens trembled.

A majestic armor of gold and silver materialized—

wrapping around him like the cloak of an ancient Dark King.

Veins of holy fire pulsed along the armor,

each step he took radiating divine brilliance twisted with infernal miasma.

He raised his arm—each motion like a ritualistic dance, ushering in death itself.

Then—

he laughed under the helm.

A brilliant, dazzling laugh—one of scornful beauty.

The smile of a man who was utterly done with the world, and ready to burn it all.

"Fighting inside a cramped castle's no fun…"

He flicked his wrist.

"Allow me to 'choose' a more fitting stage~."

Zoth snapped his hand.

The entire floor beneath them began to glow—

massive pages of a colossal book flipping open beneath their feet.

The surroundings blurred—then slash!

They were transported—

to a vast plain. The skies above: heavy and dark.

The earth: cracked and dead.

The wind howled—and every gust carried with it the cries of tens of thousands of souls lost in torment.

Zoth stepped forward—arms outstretched like a high priest welcoming guests to a god's funeral.

"Come then…"

"Let me show you… what true human despair looks like."

Ritsuka quickly shouted to the Servants:

"Everyone! Don't give him a moment to rest—force him to burn his power nonstop!"

"We know already! Charge!!"

"Understood!!"

Without needing a second command, the Heroic Spirits launched forward—

rays of hope surging into the abyss.

Their Noble Phantasms flared to life in unison, power converging into a devastating storm meant to crush Zoth instantly.

But—

"Ha ha ha!! Futile!"

Zoth slammed his foot into the ground—

The earth shattered.

Black-and-gold demonic blades erupted from beneath him like skeletal claws of hell,

lunging at the Heroic Spirits with inhuman speed.

They barely evaded death by a hair—

But then—

"Sir Bedivere!!"

"Bedivere!!"

"Kh... You... since when—"

No one knew when—

but Zoth had already appeared right behind Bedivere.

In his hand, the still-beating heart of the Round Table knight.

Bedivere's eyes were wide in shock… helpless.

[Squelch!]

Zoth crushed the heart in his hand—

like squashing an overripe grape.

Blood exploded in all directions.

Then, he threw back his head and laughed—a piercing, gleeful sound stretching to the ends of the dark horizon.

"Surprised? I only borrowed it for a moment~."

He swung his arm—

A crimson lightning storm erupted,

tearing Bedivere's spiritual body to shreds,

erasing him into the Throne of Heroes without a single final word.

"Tch… Attacking from behind? Doesn't that tarnish your pride, Lord Romulus~?"

From above, Romulus's voice roared, unwavering:

"If killing you is the price—Rome shall gladly sacrifice even Rome's glory!"

"Nine Lives — Roma!!"

A rain of divine spears fused with sacred fire fell from the heavens—

slamming straight toward where Zoth stood.

[Omnimus Loading…]

[Solomon Break!!]

Zoth lifted his hand,

absorbing all the glowing spears effortlessly.

Then, with a flick of his sword—

[BOOM!!]

A single crimson slash—like divine judgment—

struck Romulus and sent him crashing from the sky.

"Romulus!"

"His Majesty!"

"Founding Father! DAMN YOU! I'LL KILL YOU!!"

Nero roared, flames of hatred blazing in her eyes.

She drew her chained sword, now wreathed in crimson fire,

and charged Zoth like a mad fire dragon.

"Even you dare wave a sword at me, little Nero?"

Zoth scoffed,

pinching her flaming blade between just two fingers—

as if it were nothing but a wildflower.

Then—

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Three consecutive punches to her gut sent Nero flying like a broken doll.

"Hah! Eat this! Great Ram—Noah's Ark!!"

Noah activated his Noble Phantasm, summoning a massive tsunami.

"Again...? I told you already—it's useless~."

Zoth summoned the Nagare,

and with a single swing, the ocean froze solid.

He followed up by cleaving through it with Caladbolg,

shattering the entire wave, then casually shrugged.

"Anyway, it's about time you went to sleep, too~."

"Over my dead body! Laus Saint Claudius!!"

Nero screamed, transforming into a golden blaze—

charging straight at him,

carrying every last shred of imperial pride and blazing wrath.

[BOOOOM—!!!]

Dust and smoke swallowed the battlefield.

No one could see what happened—

only a single sound echoed from within…

[Crack—!]

"Told you… self-sacrifice is dangerous.

You've got to learn to love yourself more, you know~?"

The dust began to clear.

Zoth was standing tall—

clutching Nero by the throat as if holding a delicate flower.

His expression full of delight, like a parent lecturing a naughty child.

"Your Highness Nero!!" ×2

Without hesitation—

[SNAP!]

He snapped her neck.

Then tossed her body aside like garbage.

Her spiritual form burst into particles of light,

scattered by the invisible winds—

The proud Roman Emperor… had fallen.

"Well then~ Let's keep the game going, shall we~!!"

Zoth roared with unhinged laughter, helmet shaking, his voice echoing across the battlefield steeped in despair.

"First Sun Xibalba!"

"Per Aspera Ad Astra!"

"Gods-Smiting Whip!"

"Noah's Ark!"

Four Servants activated their Noble Phantasms simultaneously—

sacred radiance and the raw forces of the cosmos rained down upon Zoth, like divine punishment from both the heavens and the earth.

A blinding brilliance engulfed the battlefield, as if the world itself were jolted awake.

But—

[Demigod Stlash!!]

Zoth coldly pressed down on his Driver.

Omni Force flipped open a new page, and Caladbolg erupted with golden dust-like energy.

He swung in a sweeping arc—

shredding the mighty blasts of the Grand Servants like mere paper in a storm.

"Tsk… what a pain in the ass."

"Damn it! Does this power of his even have a limit!?"

"This is seriously pissing me off...!"

"You know~"

Zoth suddenly vanished from their sight—

and like a phantom, reappeared right behind Taigong Wang.

"Fighting me… while distracted? There's only one outcome."

[Squelch!!]

His hand pierced straight through Taigong Wang's chest—

blood splattered, magical circuits shattered like glass.

The sage barely turned his head, eyes filled with helplessness—

[Crack!]

Zoth crushed the legendary strategist's spiritual core,

then kicked his body away like broken trash.

"HAHAHAHAHA! Another one heading back to the Throne~!"

"Lord Taigong Wang!"

"Damn it—this bastard's crazier than we thought!"

Zoth screamed like a rabid beast, clutching his helmet.

Dark wind howled around him.

His twisted, grotesque smile was the very face of a nightmare given form.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!! KEEP GOING MAD!! KEEP FIGHTING!! LET YOUR FLESH AND BONES STAIN THIS WORLD IN DESPAIR!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!"

Omni Force snapped shut.

Three fingers tapped the Driver—twice.

[Omnimus Loading…]

[Solomon Stlash!!]

Zoth raised Caladbolg high into the sky.

Above him, a colossal Omni Force book materialized—

from it, a second, massive Caladbolg was born.

With a swing,

he unleashed a cataclysmic slash that tore through reality itself.

"Gah—!"

The Servants were blown away, clutching their chests as blood spilled from their lips—

each impact cracking their very souls just from being near the blast.

"W-what… is that…?"

Ritsuka trembled, feeling smaller than dust before a being beyond comprehension.

He whispered—eyes wide, heart frozen:

"How… do we beat this…?"

Zoth's distorted voice echoed like it was crawling up from the depths of hell:

"COME, CHALDEA!! LET'S CONTINUE THIS LITTLE GAME!!"

He spread his arms, laughing madly within the abyss.

A fallen god—

a madman rewriting the world with blood, tears, and death.

Before them stood—

no longer a man

nor a Heroic Spirit.

It was the embodiment of:

DESPAIR.