Chapter 741: Gray, Grave me, Grave for you!

Shinji softly uttered a name, a name with special significance.

To ordinary people, it was just the name of Glastonbury's most prestigious cemetery. But in Britain's oldest and most traditional mystical world, it held another meaning.

King Arthur's grave.

It is not a memorial site on the outskirts of London or elsewhere, but the true burial ground established by King Arthur's descendants. From that day on, King Arthur's descendants lived here, guarding it, and Gray was the current guardian of King Arthur's tomb, also the most outstanding guardian—although this guardian had a very ironic flaw.

"What? Afraid of ghosts?"

Luvia's cheeks twitched continuously. Considering that even being knocked down by the song didn't make her show such an expression, it's evident how shocked she was.

"But, didn't you say she was the guardian of that cemetery?"

"Because she's too excellent, too close to the essence of spirits. There are barriers even between the living, let alone spirits that exist between life and death?"

Shinji casually dispelled the spirits around the sword-wielding angel statue, helped Luvia and her maid lean against the base of the angel statue, and finally sat down on the ground. He said he'd leave it to Gray, so he wouldn't interfere.

"Then why are you leaving her alone?"

"Don't worry, even if she's afraid of ghosts, an expert is still an expert. Low-level spirits, no matter how many, are just weaklings."

...

Shinji and Gray weren't far apart, and their voices weren't low, but Gray didn't hear a word of what he said.

Because she was too scared, scared to the point her teeth were chattering, her body paralyzed. Her legs lost strength, and even her fingertips became immobile. It felt as if all her internal organs had been turned inside out, and cold sweat flowed uncontrollably.

Fear sprouted from the depths of her heart, spreading through every nerve to her entire body.

Just sensing the presence of spirits turned her into this state. The suffocation she felt when first entering the castle was largely due to the psychological shadow cast by the occasional dispersal of spiritual essence.

Terrifying.

Unbearably terrifying.

Terrifying, terrifying, can't stop wanting to vomit.

"Haha! A grave keeper afraid of the dead! This is just, just like me!"

The voice seemed to change again, containing elements of both Glannid and Jiroubou, but now Gray didn't even have the strength to think about it.

Only one voice echoed in her mind.

"Defective product. I am a defective product. A twilight defective product, a hopeless waste."

Then, the spirits released from the Castle surged like an avalanche, engulfing her body.

Spirits crawled on her skin, entering her body through her seven orifices.

Spirits gathered into the shape of an angel, grabbing her hair, and baring its fangs as if about to devour her.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Gray let out an uncontrollable wail.

Terrifying hateful despicable horrifying filthy hungry sharp numerous crazy pitiful nauseating screaming unburied sunken cruel should be buried exposed tortured should be destroyed—

"Hey, aren't you going to do something even now?"

"Don't rush, the real show is about to begin."

"Crunch!

A strange sound arose.

Like iron grinding against iron, a dissonant noise that would make anyone want to cover their ears.

It was the sound, known to very few, of devouring spirits. The spirits gathered around were completely devoured by the mouth engraved on the Grim Reaper's scythe.

If one's hearing was good enough, they could even hear the intermittent laughter flowing from that mouth.

"Hee hee hee hee! Delicious! This is too delicious! A long-awaited feast! This trip wasn't in vain, we've hit the jackpot."

However, these sounds seemed so distant to Gray, lacking any sense of reality.

What entered her eyes, or rather her soul, was an uncountable collection of spirits.

Due to her overwhelmingly strong spiritual vessel constitution, the presence of spirits was more intense than anything else.

More like the dead than the dead, more like the living than the living.

It was a scene she had seen countless times, all too familiar yet still unable to accept.

It was unreasonable, unnatural, unscientific, neither living nor dead.

Along with the scene was a sentence.

—"What you should destroy is that, is that, is that, only that."

"Exactly."

Her lips declared.

Her own will. Not her own will. She was created that way, and now that function has been revived. Even the spirit-devouring Grim Reaper's scythe is a stepping stone for this purpose.

"—Therefore, I must destroy."

She bent her knees.

The scenery disappeared.

It was pure explosive power, even more terrifying than when she fled earlier, almost beyond even Shinji's dynamic vision.

0.1 seconds? 0.01 seconds?

Unknown, only knowing Gray was dancing.

With the Grim Reaper's scythe leaping in her hand, she slashed through sound, shattered angels.

Everything standing before her crumbled like glass.

She approached the monster, her scythe deeply cutting into its body.

In the face of her speed, the difference in weight between them lost all meaning.

Glannid finally realized the danger, fleeing outward along with the beast while concentrating all the spirits, hoping to use this method to stop the unfolding reaper.

But this was of no use. At this moment, Grayl was like an emotionless harvesting machine, swinging the scythe representing death again and again amidst the shrill explosion in the air and the dissipating magical light of destruction.

Reap! Reap! Reap!

The countless spirits became sparse in this uninterrupted reaping.

And that monster, which terrified all magus, had its limbs and claws cut off in the continuous reaping.

The monster roared.

In the tiny gap created by the roar, flames suddenly appeared as if inserted, preventing Gray from further reaping.

"Abirahōnkenshubaha!"

Shugendō.

It was Jiroubou's, or rather Glannid's magecraft.

The monster was just a familiar, the real enemy was Glannid.

Realizing this, Gray turned her scythe, switching targets.

But it was useless.

Monks from Shugendō backgrounds all possessed strong physiques and excellent skills. Although not reaching the level of human behemoths like Gray and Shinji, they weren't easy to deal with. Especially here in the Castle Adra, Ashborn's workshop. If Gray couldn't end the battle quickly, the advantage she had gained would shift to the other side.

So.

Gray murmured.

Reciting those predetermined words.

"Gray... Rave... Crave... Deprave."

Suddenly, there was a change.

No, it should be said to have flown away.

All the surrounding magical energy, the great source, was devoured just like the spirits earlier. Seeming to be dragged into that space which had become a vacuum in terms of magic, Ashborn's monster let out a wail, shrill and fearful.

"Grave... me..."

Gray, head lowered, continued to chant softly.

Her consciousness was being extinguished.

It had been dying long ago.

So, this wasn't her voice. But a different one—another self lurking deep within her heart.

Another monster was created by her homeland.

"Grave... for you..."

Ancient mystery, be extinguished.

Let that sweet enigma return to nothingness.

"[Pseudo-personality suspended. Magical energy yield exceeds regulation. Second stage restraint rescinded.]"

A voice devoid of emotion, unrecognizable as Add's, echoed in the night.

As if the right incantation to open the door had been spoken, the mystery in Gray's hand was unsealed.

That Grim Reaper's scythe, capable of devouring spirits and magical energy and altering the user's physical abilities, wasn't Add's true form. No, even the simulated personality of Add was merely a temporary seal set to prevent the mystery from dissipating needlessly in modern times.

A seal set for this... Rhongomyniad.

Perhaps even one of the seals on Gray herself.

"Ahhhhh—!"

The monster roared.

It was impossible to count how many times this had happened.

However, in the face of that extremely compressed magical energy surrounding Gray, its roar had only one outcome: self-destruction.

The mystery will be eliminated by a stronger mystery. According to this natural law, even Ashborn's monster, which had reached the pinnacle of mystery, couldn't possibly withstand the holy lance.

"You..." "Miss Gray," "That weapon," "Your weapon,"

The voice, whether Jiroubou's or Glannid's, sounded so distant.

"Sacred lance, removing restraints!"

The Grim Reaper's scythe unfolded.

Its angle and volume transformed into a shape impossible to exist in three dimensions, forming a holy lance.

No, this object overflowing with majestic magical energy had already exceeded the specifications of a lance. Like a tower standing at the end of the world, it was a crystallization of mystery proving that numerous legends were true.

It was the end of legend.

It was the cursed divine lance that drew the period to King Arthur's legend.

Gray calmly chanted its true name.

"Rhongo—"

The time had come.

The divine lance was stirring.

That uncontrollable vortex of magical energy made even the Castle Adra seem to tremble in fear. The Castle Adra, which should only respond to preset vibrations, was forced to activate due to absorbing a large amount of overflowing magical energy. This manifestation, completed by devouring all the surrounding great source, was itself a disaster.

With the originally set Thirteen Restraints not released, only the tip of the iceberg of its original power was revealed. But even so, it was a condensation of violent authority capable of exercising god-level magic.

Highly concentrated magical energy feels similar to heat.

And now, it was like holding a volcano in hand.

Unstoppable.

What appeared in Gray's hand was a Noble Phantasm second only to the Sword of Promised Victory (Excalibur), which could be called the synonym for the legendary king. It was the divine weapon that pierced the rebellious knight.

"—myniad!!!"

Despite being deep in the night, it was as if the sun suddenly appeared—that beautiful crimson spiral was like a suddenly fallen fragment of the sun. The flash of the divine age boiled the magical energy and moisture in the air, merely rushing forward violently.

Glannid and the monster both disappeared before that light.

That beam of light gouged through the spire of the Castle Adra, penetrating from the canopy to the castle walls, gradually disappearing in the crumbling of the mountainside.