Chapter 842 A Broken Mindset

No one would have imagined that Iskandar's shadow warrior, the one who shared the king's destiny, his most trusted and loyal confidant, would reject the Ionioi Hetairoi and once harbor hatred for the king's greatest pride in life. This equates to denying the very way of life and existence of the king she had sworn loyalty to.

Yet, this is the reality. Even the one who conquered countless heroes could not unify all hearts and wills—perhaps he could in life, but after death, when the Holy Grail endowed him with the knowledge of both modern times and history, it's hard to say, especially considering everything that transpired after Iskandar's death.

Looking back at world history, Iskandar's final moments were clear. After the ultimate failure of his grand campaign, just before succumbing to fever, the king left behind the words, "Let the strongest inherit the throne." Though his true intentions remain unknown, those words completely extinguished the legacy he had fought his whole life to build.

To become the strongest, to seize that supreme position, Iskandar's subordinates went mad. Capable generals turned their blades against one another, and even Olympias, grieving the loss of her son, refused to remain idle. The vast empire, whose territorial expanse was a source of pride in human history, swiftly fractured and crumbled. The comrades who once aimed for the fabled ends of the earth forgot that absurd fantasy and engaged in blood-soaked battles, a struggle that their descendants continued, a conflict known as the Wars of the Diadochia.

This war spanned over a century, nearly wiping out all who claimed the right to succeed, and in the end, most of that vast territory fell into Roman hands.

Iskandar lived his life in a dream, only to find that at its end lay such a tragic outcome.

When the shadow warrior died, Iskandar was still alive, so she never witnessed such a miserable conclusion, nor did she know that the Earth was round and that the fabled ends of the earth did not exist. But upon being revived with knowledge granted by the Holy Grail, her mindset completely shattered.

In life, her loyalty to the King of Conquerors and her trust in those comrades was immense. Now, that loyalty and trust had turned into a profound hatred.

"Yes, I hate the Ionioi Hetairoi!"

Even though severely injured by Shinji, struggling to stay standing, the shadow warrior still exuded a terrifying aura.

"I hate those fools who destroyed everything the king accomplished, and I hate those who would still try to join them! I also despise Olympias, who taught me magecraft and tried to manipulate the king! And even my brother, who knew the outcome and still fraternized with those fools!"

Even if the king could accept it, she could not.

Even if the king could forgive, she could not.

Her near-pathological rage was ignited by tens of thousands of the king's subordinates. Perhaps it even included the king himself, who had forgiven them.

The shadow warrior's anger was so terrifying that it almost became tangible, capable of setting the entire train car ablaze. But amid this blazing fury, Waver suddenly laughed.

"Heh heh, heh heh heh."

His shoulders shook as he laughed inappropriately, ignoring the pressure emanating from her anger.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just so typical of him. A king who forces tens of thousands of soldiers on such a grand campaign, yet still manages to form bonds with them, but also manages to anger his shadow warrior to the point where she doesn't even want to deal with him anymore. That guy was always one step behind, wasn't he? Maybe he never had any real talent to begin with."

At the end of his laughter, Waver lowered his head and softly said, "Thank you."

He said this to the shadow warrior who had always looked down on him and had wanted to kill him.

"... Wh-why?"

"I've been thinking. Not a day in the last ten years has passed without worry. Even if I wanted to follow in his footsteps to the place I should reach, I didn't know what I could do. After all, I'm an irredeemable mediocrity, never destined to be a heroic spirit. Only my students have grown, while I can only watch helplessly as talent takes flight."

It was as if he had been carrying a heavy burden for ten years, compressed all this time.

But now, at last, it could be released.

"But now I can hold my head high and say it. No matter where we meet again, without a doubt, I can proudly boast to him. He'd probably allow it no matter how many times I repeat it. If my rationality doesn't allow me to sound like a broken record, then I can always drink a little. Ah, I never dreamed you would give me this chance. I must thank you properly."

"What are you... saying?"

"Hm? Oh, just that."

Waver nodded as if it was the most natural thing in the world and then continued.

"I took revenge on your beloved general—on another version of you. If I tell him that, I'm sure he'll laugh his head off too."

"...."

Everyone fell silent.

Hearing his audacious words and seeing his unwavering demeanor in the face of fury, no one could remain indifferent.

There are people who, even without the strength to fight, can still shine with a brilliant radiance. There are people who, despite their weaknesses, can still accomplish earth-shattering feats.

At this moment, everyone naturally believed that Waver and that king were meant to meet again, that the king should witness the man Waver had become, a stubbornness that, though almost laughable, was even more admirable.

The shadow warrior was stunned as if mesmerized by a mystic eye. Waver's declaration hit her soul like a great magecraft beyond the capabilities of modern magi.

"Do you intend to defeat me?"

Regaining her senses, her anger reignited, this time not at the foolish king and his foolish subordinates, but at Waver himself.

"Do you think these injuries are enough to defeat me? Listen up, the man with the soul of a warrior, and all of you! As long as a warrior still stands, they will continue to fight!"

The female warrior raised her trembling sword, her stance as if to tear the sky apart.

No, her rising magical energy had already torn through the sky.

"This is bad!"

"No way!"

Realizing the danger, Lorelei and Gray rushed forward to stop the rampaging female warrior, but before they could move, the sword, charged with immense magical energy, was already swinging down.

A flash lit up the night, and something beyond reason appeared in the void, pushing aside the air, and creating a tremendous shockwave that descended upon the train car below, crashing down upon the people inside.

"Wind!"

Lorelei lashed out with her short whip toward the sky. Her magic circuits roared with terrifying intensity, amplified by the nearly two thousand years of mystery accumulated by the Barthomeloi family.

It was a vacuum magic powerful enough to demolish city walls, a mark of strength even in the Age of Gods.

Yet, this mighty magecraft could not stop the threat descending from the sky. After breaking through the shockwave, it was nullified by the falling lightning.

Dense bolts of lightning descended from the dark clouds, striking around the armored woman, and blessing her.

At the center of the lightning was a chariot, a crystallization of faith formed by transcending time and space—a Noble Phantasm.

The shadow warrior's Noble Phantasm was a chariot, very similar to Iskandar's Gordius Wheel, a rough yet classic two-horse chariot, a symbol of devastation on the battlefield.

However, the chariot was not pulled by the divine bulls symbolizing Zeus's power but by two skeletal dragons.

Of course, these were not true dragons, but wyverns, a subspecies of dragons. Originating from the dragon-serpent worship in Dionysian beliefs, they were often driven by witches and magi in ancient Greece. It is said that Medea once used such a dragon chariot as transportation, and the shadow warrior, who had been a disciple of Olympias, was well-versed in such arts.

From the chariot's identical appearance to the Gordius Wheel, it's not hard to infer that the female servant charioteer once drove the chariot under Iskandar's name, rampaging across battlefields. However, she was not a child of Zeus, unable to command beasts related to Zeus, and so had to use magecraft as a substitute to drive the chariot.

Even though wyverns fall far short of true dragons, they are still powerful symbols as fantasy creatures. Every step of the skeletal dragons pulling the chariot burst with lightning, erupting with a power comparable to the earlier falling lightning. If an ordinary magus were struck by this lightning, they would be reduced to a pile of charred remains. Even Lorelei didn't want to test what it felt like to be hit by the lightning, repeatedly unleashing vacuum magic to counter it.

Though she was able to prevent the lightning from striking for the moment, everyone knew it was only temporary because lightning was just part of the chariot's power. The chariot's greatest strength was in a head-on charge.

The female warrior leaped onto the chariot and said to Heartless:

"Forgive me, Master. This time I intended to serve you faithfully, but I cannot ignore such provocations."

"Sigh~ sigh."

The red-haired magus let out an exaggerated sigh.

The blue suit he wore fluttered in the roof's howling wind, and his sigh was scattered into the darkness.

"I anticipated things might turn out this way, so I tried to stop you before. But there's no helping it now. Fortunately, I wasn't unprepared either, so let's make a grand spectacle out of this!"

Heartless wore an innocent smile as he gently placed his hand over his left chest.

"Turn around, my heart."

P.S.: Lorelei is a powerful being on the level of the Twenty-seven Dead Apostle Ancestors, but only when fully prepared. She didn't expect so much trouble on this trip and didn't bring the various Mystic Code of the Barthomeloi family, so the pressure of opposing a Noble Phantasm is still too much for her.