Fate: How About a New Savior?

During the Fifth Holy Grail War, Shiomi had fought against several of Solomon's Demon Gods.

Though they had taken on forms resembling those described in legend, each one possessed combat strength comparable to a standard Servant. If not for the inherent limitations of the Fuyuki Grail War ritual, which prevented all 72 Demon Gods from manifesting at once and unleashing their full might, the mere appearance of all of them would've meant certain death for both Shiomi and Morgan.

The form Makiri Zolgen had taken as Barbatos now displayed strength that surpassed even top-tier Servants like Artoria.

But Shiomi had quickly identified Barbatos' biggest flaw: Makiri, as the foundation of the Demon God Pillar, had yet to fully adapt. His control over power was crude and reliant on brute force.

Worse, despite being a seasoned Magus, Makiri was showing signs of impatience and recklessness—an alarming departure from what should have been calculated control.

Even with Artoria, Mordred, and Sakura keeping up the pressure, as long as they didn't land a serious blow, Barbatos' focus remained locked on Shiomi.

As the battle wore on, Shiomi grew more and more certain of this.

After sidestepping another strike and summoning his crimson spear to slice through the oncoming tentacles, Shiomi leaned on the weapon and pointed his staff at Barbatos. Given the difference in size, the gesture looked absurd—like Don Quixote challenging a windmill.

"Barbatos—no, Makiri Zolgen. You're this desperate to take me out… there's only one reason I can think of!"

The moment he spoke, all those crimson eyes zeroed in on him. Light flared, and the ground he'd stood on was blasted apart.

But there was no blood, no dust. Shiomi was already gone.

Splurt—

The sound of an eye being pierced echoed through the air. Shiomi had rammed his spear straight through one of the Demon God Pillar's eyes. No fluid leaked out—just the sound of something crystalline shattering, like a gemstone crushed to pieces.

It had looked soft… then suddenly turned hard.

Almost like a non-Newtonian fluid, Shiomi thought, stifling a sarcastic complaint in his mind.

Standing atop the Demon God Pillar, he looked down at the remaining intact eye and gave a cold sneer.

"You can't hold that form for long, can you?"

Of course, Shiomi didn't actually believe Barbatos was that fragile—he was baiting him, trying to provoke a reaction.

Barbatos' attacks were increasingly frenzied. Even if it wasn't due to fatigue, Makiri clearly had a reason for wanting this fight over quickly.

And Shiomi's words hit their mark.

The undamaged eye twitched violently. Then came a flood of mana—blinding beams of light erupted toward Shiomi, trying to swallow him whole.

"That's quite a surge. More mana than most top-level Magi could muster," Shiomi said, appearing midair over ten meters away. "I don't know who your so-called 'King' is, but for a Magus to go this far… he's certainly earned some praise."

If words worked, then he'd keep using them.

Makiri had claimed to abandon his humanity—but he hadn't let go of his human heart. That contradiction was his weakness, and his fate had been sealed from the start.

As expected, Barbatos snapped.

More tentacles surged up from the ground, surrounding Shiomi from every direction, leaving no path to escape. This time, they were going to bind him for good.

"In the end, all you've got is that silver tongue. Then die!"

The voice that rang out was flat and emotionless—unlike Makiri's usual tone—but it couldn't mask the burning rage behind it.

Not rage at being mocked.

But at having their "King" mocked.

Barbatos had issued a death sentence.

And yet… something felt wrong.

"What?!"

Shiomi had clearly been restrained—there should've been no way to escape. But something unexpected happened.

The tentacles began to lose their color, as if drained of power. They withered, cracked, and crumbled into dust.

"Fourth Primordial Rune: Rune of Liberation—Rune of Liberation." Shiomi lowered his gaze and spoke calmly. "No form of magecraft or physical restraint can bind me. That includes something as trivial as these tentacles."

Barbatos' enormous form began to shudder. His eyes twitched and spun chaotically, out of sync.

Fear and panic started to ripple through him.

"Primordial Runes… a Magus from the Age of Gods! So this is what His Majesty meant when he said it was unbeatable!"

A roar of denial echoed like a grinding machine struggling under strain.

"What?"

Shiomi narrowed his eyes, sensing that his assumptions had been slightly off.

The "King" Makiri spoke of may have foreseen this failure from the very start. For reasons unknown, Makiri and the others had stood in Shiomi's way—perhaps to atone, to redeem themselves.

It might not have been a command from that King at all, but a mission Makiri and the others had taken on themselves.

Either way, once they found the King Makiri had spoken of, they'd have their answers.

Who was this person who could command the 72 Demon Gods of King Solomon and bestow the power of a Demon God upon a human Magus?

With that thought, Shiomi raised his staff.

The time was right. Mordred and Artoria once again unleashed the mana of their Noble Phantasms, coordinating with Shiomi's spell to launch an all-out assault.

"Be gone, Demon God Barbatos—!"

The blast was even more devastating than the one they had used against Paracelsus.

Disoriented by Shiomi's provocation, Barbatos failed to defend or counterattack. That allowed Shiomi to conserve mana—enough to focus on retrieving the Singularity's Holy Grail and beginning restoration.

"'Noble Phantasm—Roadless Camelot: Reaching the Ultimate Utopia."

True Ether, compressed and released.

It merged with the Holy Spear, the Magic Sword, and Sakura's Imaginary Number Magecraft, converging into a single torrent that engulfed Barbatos.

At first, he erected a magical barrier—but within seconds it shattered, collapsing like a landslide. The surge of mana consumed the towering pillar, incinerating every last tentacle that still writhed on the ruined streets.

...

When the wave of destruction faded, at the far end of the devastated road, near the path to the museum, Makiri Zolgen lay sprawled on the ground.

He tried to move, to act—but even lifting a finger was impossible. His Magic Circuits were completely burned out.

"Give it up. Your body's already past its limit." Shiomi pressed his spear blade to Makiri's throat.

"You… you've only defeated us... not our king..." Makiri gasped, barely clinging to life.

Shiomi twisted his wrist. The blade flashed coldly.

Makiri's head fell. He didn't get to finish his sentence.

"The dead don't get to talk about what comes next."