"Would you like to test the sharpness of my holy spear?"
As the holy spear, Rhongomyniad fell into Alaric's palm, its chilling glow flashed before everyone's eyes. Only the oldest hero of humanity, Gilgamesh, felt a phantom pain at that moment.
"That spear—"
This was not the first time he had experienced such an illusion. The previous night, when Alaric first wielded Rhongomyniad, Gilgamesh had already felt this false sensation of being pierced.
Though he could not understand the reason, he was certain that it was caused by Rhongomyniad.
What exactly has this spear done?!
As Gilgamesh spoke, Alaric, seeming to realize something, curled his lips into a slight smirk and then chuckled:
"Didn't I mention before? I once killed a king."
"..."
Upon hearing this, Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes slightly.
The only thing he could confirm was that Alaric had slain the Primordial Goddess, Tiamat, as the traces of her blood were evident on him.
It was not divine blood refined through generations, but the purest primal god's blood, though in Alaric's case, it only served as the most basic foundation.
Gilgamesh could also discern the truth in Alaric's words. That was precisely why he acknowledged that Alaric's seemingly absurd achievements were, in fact, real.
Thus, Gilgamesh grew even more curious—or rather, he had already anticipated the significance of Alaric's so-called feat of slaying a king.
Alaric gently brushed his hand over the spiraling spear tip, his voice resonant and clear:
"Witnessed by the Primordial Goddess, the Mother of Beasts, the Sea of Life—Tiamat; as well as the Mistress of the Sky, the Goddess of Venus, the Deity of Uruk—Ishtar…
As the final knight of the Round Table, with this holy spear—this spear that anchors the fabric of the stars—I slew the oldest hero-king of humanity and ended the divine connection of the Anchor of Heaven.
Afterward, I bore witness to the great undertaking of the King of Magecraft, who returned to the heavens—
The King Who Severed the Bonds Between Gods and Men… The King Who Restored Divine Grace…
The farewell of the Age of Gods began with me and reached its conclusion under my witness."
His calm words spoke of a distant past, a history distorted, a world known as the Seventh Singularity, where only the gods remembered the grand achievements.
These were feats that belonged solely to Alaric, unknown to others, neither recorded as legends nor spread as myths.
Such deeds, never chronicled, would not be glorified with time. They remained mere feats in name, without the embellishment of history.
Yet, for certain special individuals, these feats were undeniably significant—just like now.
"Hmph?"
Gilgamesh, with arms crossed, gazed coldly at the man who had so casually spoken of such an extraordinary matter.
Undeniably true. That was Gilgamesh's sole verdict on Alaric's declaration.
"Hahahahahaha!!!"
At this realization, Gilgamesh couldn't help but raise a hand to cover his eyes, bursting into unrestrained laughter. His exuberant voice echoed throughout the Einzbern courtyard, spreading in all directions.
If Alaric had indeed slain the oldest hero-king of humanity, then it must have been an achievement he accomplished during Gilgamesh's lifetime—
Thousands of years ago, in Mesopotamia.
The Hero-King Gilgamesh, the Mistress of the Sky Ishtar, and the Primordial Goddess Tiamat.
Just the mention of these figures was enough for Gilgamesh to envision what a grand and spectacular battle it must have been.
A true mythological war.
An epic saga marking the beginning of the end of the Age of Gods—and Alaric had been there in person.
He had traveled against the current of time, participated firsthand in the mythical war that severed the Age of Gods, braved countless adventures, and witnessed:
The battle of the supreme deities
The revenge of the Beast Goddess
The ultimate ascension of the Chains of Heaven
The blossoming of the Underworld's flower
The crowning strike of an Assassin who abandoned their Grand status
And even the death of the Primordial Goddess
But above all, what stood out was the fact that Alaric had personally slain the oldest hero, Gilgamesh.
No matter how many years passed, nor how much wisdom he attained, Gilgamesh always recognized those who had value—those who unreservedly embraced their desires as true humans.
His laughter, lasting a full minute, was a genuine expression of joy from the Golden King.
"You truly are something, Alaric!"
As his laughter subsided, the Golden King revealed an expression of pure delight. He fixed his gaze on the Round Table Knight before him and declared:
"I've changed my mind. I will bring forth my full sincerity to defeat you.
Let me see what kind of spectacle you, who have experienced such a battlefield, can put on!"
"Then watch closely, Hero King!"
Stowing away his holy spear, Alaric grinned, his gaze steady. Even when looking directly into the Hero King's eyes, he showed no fear whatsoever, brimming instead with supreme confidence.
This banquet should have concluded here. However, as Alaric's battle-ready declaration fell, numerous dark figures emerged within the courtyard—
Dozens of figures, each differing in form, surrounded the banquet. Though they remained silent, an invisible pressure filled the air.
[Assassin — Hundred-Faced Hassan]
Alaric glanced at the multiple clones conjured by Hundred-Faced Hassan's Noble Phantasm and turned to Gilgamesh, saying:
"By the way, Hero King, I plan to visit Tohsaka Tokiomi later. Please don't get in my way."
Now that he had obtained Little Red Hood, Alaric was confident in visiting Tohsaka Tokiomi. His goal, of course, was the magical texts of the Second Magic—Kaleidoscope, which were held by the Tohsaka family.
As long as the Marshal of Magecraft himself did not intervene, even if he had to face Gilgamesh in person, Alaric was confident he could secure them.
For years, Alaric had coveted these texts, but the presence of the Marshal of Magecraft had always made him hesitant to act recklessly.
But now, with Little Red Hood in hand, even if the unlimited ether cannon—the very weapon that had once defeated the Crimson Moon—were used against him, he was confident he could withstand it, even if only for a moment.
And now, after confirming Gilgamesh's stance, Alaric felt even more assured about going to see Tohsaka Tokiomi.
Though the Second Magic—Kaleidoscope already had a rightful wielder, its related applications could still be studied and utilized by others.
Alaric had no intention of mastering it entirely—he just needed to find a method of traveling between parallel worlds.
To prevent himself from randomly shifting and ending up in some unknown place again.
The Second Magician—Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg used gems as anchors to traverse parallel worlds.
For instance, when traveling from World A to World B, the gems of World B would gather in an instant to form Zelretch's body, while his soul transferred into it.
Simultaneously, his original form in World A would revert into a mountain of gemstones.
As long as a world contained minerals and gems, he could travel there. However, since his soul remained singular, he could not exist in multiple worlds at once.
Of course, this did not mean Zelretch only used gems for parallel world travel. Originally, he had moved physically, but over time, he found his method using gems to be the most effortless.
Additionally, his Jewel Sword Zelretch could create pathways between parallel worlds, allowing him to draw limitless mana from them.
Alaric was confident that, by obtaining the texts on the Second Magic, he could develop his means of traversal.
Even if there was no real accuracy.
"Hmm?"
Hearing this, Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow but did not object to Alaric. Instead, he said, "Do as you wish."
"Then wait a moment, I'll take care of my fellow assassin first."
Alaric smiled as he looked toward the Hundred-Faced Hassans not far away. Hundred-Faced Hassan momentarily freezes in surprise.
Alaric raised his hand, forming an ancient and unadorned greatsword. It was a weapon passed down within the Order of the Old Man of the Mountain, only appearing when an Old Man of the Mountain strayed from the righteous path.
Although the Hundred-Faced Hassan did not recognize this sword, they were quickly captivated by the technique Alaric displayed.
The technique that concealed breath—without a doubt, it was something only the Old Man of the Mountain would use.
With the greatsword in hand, Alaric strode forward with large, confident steps, his presence diminishing to the point of near invisibility as if he had transformed into a silent shadow. As he advanced, he spoke:
"You could say I'm half an Assassin myself. After all, I studied under the Old Man of the Mountain for a time. Strictly speaking, I should be calling you Senpai."
Buzz.
The air trembled. As Alaric approached, the Hundred-Faced Hassans, who had appeared to test him, moved in unison, attempting to force him to reveal techniques beyond the Gate of Holy Judgment!
But the moment they moved, an invisible slash came whistling through the air!
Not even a fraction of a second passed before many of the Hundred-Faced Hassans were sliced in half at the waist!
Alaric's assassination arts came from the same lineage as the Old Man of the Mountain.
However, the Old Man of the Mountain, the origin of the Assassin class, had elevated assassination to a divine level—an unattainable realm far beyond Alaric's reach.
Yet, in those four years, Alaric had never stopped honing his assassination skills. And in doing so, he had come to understand the true essence of the Old Man of the Mountain's assassination:
A righteous, direct kill.
As long as one could conceal their presence to the utmost limit, even in plain sight, they would remain undetected. Thus, the swing of a sword would face no resistance.
As long as all witnesses were eliminated, the assassination would be perfect.
Against the current Alaric, the likes of the Hundred-Faced Hassan were no match at all. They fell like weeds being cut down until only one remained—
The true body of the Hundred-Faced Hassan.
Alaric, however, did not deliver the final strike. Instead, he smiled and said,
"If there's nothing else, let's just leave it at that, shall we?"
Even though he had just slaughtered nearly all of the Hundred-Faced Hassans, Alaric spoke as if nothing had happened, casually engaging in conversation.
"Who taught you assassination?"
For the first time, the remaining Hundred-Faced Hassan broke their silence, even going so far as to disregard their Master's command to ask,
"You… are not the Old Man of the Mountain."
"I learned from the First Hassan."
Alaric waved a hand dismissively. "It took me a hell of a lot of effort, too. Hmm… Come to think of it, if I ever stray from the right path, the First Hassan wouldn't come out and chop me down, would he?"