Chapter 27: Prostrate Yourselves Before Me!

"What is the matter?"

At the center of the hovering battlefield, Zoran allowed the corners of his mouth to quirk upward, his gaze sweeping across the gathered crowd.

His voice was not loud, carrying a touch of elegance and composure, mysterious and magnetic, as if it had been refined through the long wash of time itself.

"I have merely made a slight move. Do not be nervous, haha."

He raised his right hand, and the decree that had shrouded the world finally dissolved. A bird streaked across the night sky, finally regaining its freedom. His presence now radiated the commanding aura of a monarch wielding absolute power.

Gazing toward the seabed, he shook his head with a trace of helplessness; it seemed that fellow still hadn't given up.

Shendu took a step forward, intercepting the path between them. He had fully recovered. Gilgamesh, that was his opponent.

"Go. Do not worry about mana consumption," Zoran said with a light wave of his hand.

Shendu strode toward the surface of the sea. On this battlefield, everyone harbored their own hidden thoughts.

"Lord, how should I proceed?" Lancer, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, secretly queried his Master, Kayneth. He was an exceptional knight.

It took a long time before Kayneth finally responded.

"I... I do not know..." he said.

"Lord..." Diarmuid gripped his Noble Phantasm tightly.

He sensed an indescribable shift; his Master seemed changed. Kayneth had always been decisive and supremely confident, yet at this moment, he had become hesitant and wavering. Was it because of that insurmountable Master of Caster standing before them? What exactly had his Master seen in that man?

"Lancer, act according to the dictates of your heart!" Kayneth issued his command.

On the back of his hand, a Command Seal faded into dullness. He had actually expended a precious Command Seal just for this, a mechanic usually reserved for forcing a Servant's compliance. And yet, the order he gave was for the Servant to follow his own will.

Strange. Truly strange.

What should I do? Diarmuid questioned his own heart.

Every Servant had a reason they had to win, a wish deep within their soul that had to be fulfilled. Without exception. And now, the most powerful competitor had emerged. From the very beginning, they were not standing on the same level or the same status.

Regardless of whether the answer was right or wrong, there was only one undeniable choice. He gripped his spear and began to walk toward Zoran.

Only by defeating Caster and his Master could there be any hope for this Holy Grail War. This was no longer about a knight's dueling spirit or will. What they faced was a foe without precedent.

Archer, Gilgamesh, had already pinned down Caster; he believed the others were thinking the same thing.

"Rider..." Waver whispered. "This is the only chance."

"Ah... indeed. That man is a monster!" his Servant, Iskandar the King of Conquerors, sighed. "But you, kid, you're not half bad when it comes to making a decision!" He slapped Waver on the back.

"As a King, one must absolutely never shrink back!"

With a mighty roar, he lashed his whip. The bull-drawn chariot made a sharp turn in the night sky, its hooves trampling restlessly as it faced the opponent firmly occupying the center of the battlefield. This was an enemy worthy of everyone's full strength to defeat.

"Saber, move out," Kiritsugu Emiya commanded.

To win, this was the only choice: unite all participants to defeat Caster and his Master. Otherwise, they would see no hope of victory. If they couldn't even manage this, then from the very start, this Holy Grail War was destined to have nothing to do with them.

With a primal howl, Berserker lunged out like a demon. It seemed his Master shared the same sentiment.

Bang—

The muffled crack of gunfire suddenly echoed across the wharf.

Just as Kiritsugu gave the order, his assistant Maiya had already fired the first bullet, acting as the clarion call for the assault. The bullet tore through the curtain of night, trailing a graceful streak. With her vast experience in assassination, a miss was an impossibility.

In almost an instant, the bullet streaked toward Zoran's head.

Yet, less than ten centimeters from him, it was stripped of all momentum, held firmly in place before Zoran.

Glancing at the bullet suspended in the air, Zoran smiled. He gave a soft puff of breath; a repulsive force decomposed the bullet from within, turning it into shimmering copper dust that scattered in the air.

Immediately after, he raised his hand. He made a grasping motion toward the source of the shot.

A tooth-aching screech of twisting metal instantly rang out. The shipping container where Maiya was hiding was crushed in an instant into a wrinkled ball of iron, suspended quietly in mid-air.

Zoran released his grip. The iron sphere fell to the ground with a dull thud. From the jagged folds, a stream of bright red blood began to seep out.

"Maiya...!" Kiritsugu's pupils shook violently.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remain calm. In choosing to oppose this terrifying Master, every sacrifice was within the realm of expectation.

Zoran, of course, knew exactly who he had killed. Kiritsugu Emiya's assistant. But what of it? This was a war, and death was merely an interlude in the conflict. Now, he appeared to be the target of everyone's scorn, with every killing intent surging toward him. This was the inevitable conclusion.

With a silent laugh, he raised his hand and blasted the oncoming Lancer away, slamming him deep into a shipping container.

Many people seemed not to understand the meaning of the word "villain," or rather, they did not understand the nature of a Demon. A Demon acts only according to his own whims. Or rather, according to whatever outcome grants him pleasure.

"That's it! All of you, prostrate yourselves before me!"

He spoke with a thunderous voice. Within dozens of meters of him, the earth could not withstand the pressure, instantly caving in to form a crater.

He hadn't fought in a long time. The current situation allowed him to taste a glimmer of joy. Standing motionless in the air, he lifted his restraints and allowed the remaining Servants to strike.

From the dark hole Lancer had smashed into the container, a beautiful and ornate red spear whistled through the air. This was one of his Noble Phantasms, Gáe Dearg, possessing the trait of ignoring magical defenses. If he couldn't get close, he had no choice but to throw his weapon; it was a move born of desperation.

The red spear flashed like a falling star, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. Zoran raised his left hand and gave a light sweep. An invisible, titanic force struck, violently wrenching the red spear off its trajectory and sending it spinning to pierce into the cold ground.

He turned and waved his hand. Before him was a figure in blue armor, Saber, Artoria Pendragon, who had already closed in. She raised her sword high, but a sudden, irresistible gravitational pull struck her from the side.

In an instant, she was dragged into a nearby container, creating a second black void. The sheet metal of the container twisted, groaning under the strain.

Thunder suddenly boomed in the sky. Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, descended from above in his chariot, the Gordius Wheel. Zoran pointed a single finger into the air, and a faint ripple of shockwaves instantly swept outward.

Vroom—

That unstoppable momentum was snuffed out in an instant. With a light push of his palm, he sent both rider and mount flying.

Killing intent rose from the ground as a black, hideous figure wielding a lamp post lunged from beneath his feet. With a cold snort, Zoran slammed his arm down.

A mountainous pressure descended like a falling meteor. Berserker was crushed into the earth, struggling but unable to rise.

And so, the four surges of killing intent were all extinguished. None of them had even managed to get close to Zoran.

Kiritsugu Emiya glanced at the time.

From just now until this moment...

Only two seconds had passed?