Chapter 100

The King's Gambit

Mahito continued his self-satisfied chatter, arrogance lacing his tone as he admired his handiwork. He relished in his apparent victory, taking pleasure in what he believed to be Artoria's defeat.

Yet, he had failed to notice one crucial detail—

Artoria had never stopped healing.

Her heart, the immortal core of Albion, was already restoring itself at an accelerated rate. The wounds inflicted by Mahito's cursed techniques were still potent, but the Dragon King's heart did not break so easily.

Even as she stood trapped in the form of a white horse, Avalon had continued its function. The divine artifact had protected her from absolute annihilation, though its power had been strained due to its constant collision with the barrier.

And then—

The dragon flames—her ultimate attack—had struck the same point in space where Avalon had been clashing with the barrier.

A faint shimmer appeared, an almost imperceptible ripple in the fabric of reality.

Then—

Cracks began to form.

For the first time, Mahito stopped talking.

His expression shifted—no longer one of calm amusement, but one of disbelief.

"You got me there," he muttered, his voice forced and unnatural. "I seem to have underestimated you."

Despite his attempt to maintain composure, his tone betrayed him—it was cracking, filled with something he had not felt in a long time—

Genuine rage.

He gritted his teeth, hands clenching into fists as his gaze flickered toward the forming fractures in space.

He had been so focused on his perceived victory, so caught up in his own power, that he had failed to notice the real danger.

Artoria had been stalling him.

Artoria felt no joy in his realization. There was no time for taunts or arrogance—this was a battle that could not afford hesitation.

The Konoha forces had yet to arrive.

She could not wait for them.

Her body was still weak from Mahito's cursed transformation, but her will remained unyielding.

Activating her transformation technique, she reclaimed her human form, her golden armor materializing around her. The once-enslaved King of Knights had returned.

Darkness surged in response, the underworld of Izanami pulling at her, seeking to drag her into oblivion.

But Artoria was done playing along.

"Excalibur."

The name was spoken not as a mere attack, but as an absolute declaration of destruction.

A blinding flash of gold erupted, illuminating the entire battlefield.

For a single moment, the world was plunged into darkness—not from an absence of light, but because every single photon of existence had been drawn to a single point—

Her sword.

The blade of the chosen king roared to life, its true power fully unleashed.

She pushed her body to the limit, the power of her draconic heart, her divine blood, and her sword's final miracle all converging at once.

For a fleeting instant—

She touched the realm of Kaguya Otsutsuki.

The True Domain of the immortals.

And in that moment, she unleashed an attack that did not belong to this world.

The darkness was devoured by the radiance.

The underworld was split apart, severed from its grip on reality.

Mahito, who had once stood untouchable, his power of soul manipulation absolute, found himself standing before something even he could not comprehend.

A power that ignored the concept of death and existence itself.

A power that erased him.

A power that even the immortals would fear.

The blade of light fell.

And in the next moment—

Mahito was gone.

Not shattered.

Not sealed.

Not even banished.

He was wiped from the planet as though he had never been there to begin with.

It was over.

But the cost had been too great.

As the last of Excalibur's radiance faded, Artoria could feel something breaking inside her.

Her body trembled, no longer able to withstand the forces she had unleashed.

Her sword, the blade gifted by the Immortals, began to crumble in her hands, its once invincible edge turning to dust.

The awakening had come at a cost—

She had finally touched the will of the world, but in doing so, she had lost the blade that had carried her this far.

Her vision blurred.

Her legs collapsed beneath her.

And then—

Darkness took her.

But fate was cruel.

Even as he was struck down, even as his soul was erased, Mahito's hatred endured.

The Seals of Izanami vanished.

His Immortal Mode collapsed.

And yet—

He survived.

Barely.

His once immaculate body was now a broken shell, his form reduced to a crawling husk.

His fingers twitched, his vision barely holding on, his very being on the verge of ceasing to exist.

It was then that the final strike came.

A rift tore open—

And a hand shot through the crack, reaching for his throat.

Ino.

The moment she broke through, her energy surged with the purest form of vengeance, and Mahito barely had time to react before—

CRACK!

His entire body was torn apart, nearly shattered beyond repair.

Desperate, with only one final act of survival, he activated a final teleportation technique.

His head vanished, barely escaping the battlefield, just as Ino's strike was about to finish him for good.

And though he had lived—

It was not a victory.

It was humiliation.

Lying in a pool of his own broken essence, far away from the battlefield, Mahito clenched what little remained of his fists.

His wounds screamed in agony.

His pride had been obliterated.

And yet, his hatred only grew stronger.

"I will kill you for this," he swore, his voice filled with venomous fury.

The King of Knights had defied him.

And for that, he would make her suffer in ways no mortal had ever imagined.

As the dust settled and the battlefield lay silent, Merlin appeared beside Artoria, his violet eyes gleaming with something between admiration and satisfaction. His ever-present smile deepened as he knelt, gently lifting her unconscious form into his arms. His King had finally begun to awaken.

His robes fluttered slightly as remnants of divine energy still lingered in the air, curling like golden wisps around Artoria's body. Her form, though battered and drained, had begun a profound transformation—one that even he, the great magus of legends, had only ever theorized about.

And it was unfolding before his eyes.

A rare chuckle escaped his lips.

"You truly are remarkable, my King."

A gust of wind heralded Ino's descent as she landed gracefully a few steps away. Her sharp, cerulean gaze remained locked on the unconscious knight, brows furrowed with a mix of concern and curiosity.

Her heart was still racing from the battle, from the sheer devastation that had been unleashed in the past few minutes. This woman—this King of Knights—had eradicated him from existence in a single strike.

And yet, Ino's instincts told her this was just the beginning.

"How is she?" she asked, stepping forward cautiously.

Merlin turned his gaze towards her, his expression unreadable, yet his mirthful aura never wavered.

"Ah, the lovely Yamanaka Ino." He greeted smoothly. "You need not worry—our dear King is in the process of something truly magnificent."

Ino folded her arms, studying the woman before her.

It was impossible to ignore Artoria.

Even in her unconscious state, her presence was like the rising sun—undeniable, brilliant, and commanding. Her once-pristine golden armor was cracked in places, but instead of looking weakened, she seemed to radiate an overwhelming sense of renewal.

Like something greater was emerging.

Her skin shimmered, light pulsing through her veins like rivers of pure divinity. Faint draconic sigils flickered on her forehead, barely visible beneath the strands of her golden hair.

There was a shift in the air, something raw and ancient.

Something Ino recognized all too well.

Naruto's words echoed in her mind.

"She is the chosen of the world, and the world has finally decided to bless her with power."

The world itself had acknowledged Artoria, and now it was giving her what was rightfully hers.

Ino could feel it.

The power that lingered in the wind, the very energy that resonated through her own soul, was responding to Artoria. It was unlike anything she had ever encountered before—it was as if the laws of the universe were rewriting themselves around this woman.

For the first time in a long while, Ino found herself deeply unsettled.

Yet she did not fear Artoria.

No, it was something else—something unknown, something that whispered of change beyond mortal comprehension.

Her fingers twitched, and for a moment, she wanted to reach out, to touch that overwhelming radiance.

But she held back.

Merlin, ever the enigma, simply smiled knowingly, his eyes twinkling with something mischievous and unreadable.

"You have a keen intuition, Lady Ino," he mused. "But some revelations are best left for later, don't you think?"

His words held a hint of finality, and before Ino could press for more answers—

He vanished.

A swirl of white petals danced in the air where he once stood, leaving nothing behind except the faint lingering scent of flowers and mystery.

Ino exhaled sharply, biting back her frustration.

She hated his type—the kind that spoke in riddles and disappeared before giving any real answers. But she forced herself to let it go.

For now.

Her gaze fell back on Artoria, watching as the golden aura around her continued to shift, solidifying into something new—something utterly transcendent.

It was clear.

This was not just a recovery.

This was an ascension.