[135] Regain Your Sanity, Berserker

"Trigger off!"

The circuits of projection flowed, and the jagged axe-sword materialized in an instant. The young man closed his golden eyes, and the twelve labours, the twelve glories experienced by the hero, flowed like blood through his body with each heartbeat.

Mana surged, lifting his robes, and golden sand swirled with a scorching heat.

"Nine Lives Blade Works!!!"

The spear thrust from below was effortlessly shattered. The massive, heavy axe-sword swung with his arm, cutting a mirror-like arc in an instant.

After a brief moment of stillness, nine fissures erupted behind the one-eyed old man, blood cascading like a waterfall, mingling with the sand, and the stench of blood filled the air.

"Cough..."

Antigonus's mouth uncontrollably spilled blood. After enduring this strike, his spiritual foundation inevitably crumbled, and golden spiritual particles scattered from his body.

"Indeed, compared to personal combat, I am more skilled in military strategy."

Sakatsuki slowly retracted the axe-blade, raising an eyebrow at the remark.

"The victor becomes the king, and the loser, the bandit. Or perhaps you've been sitting on the Throne of Heroes for too long, and your body has grown rusty?"

"Ha, can't you spare some face for an old man?"

In the midst of a hearty laugh, the figure of the God of War dissipated. After confirming Antigonus's departure, Sakatsuki sighed, dispersed the axe-sword, and suddenly felt a sharp pain in his fingers.

When Sakatsuki looked down, the pain had already turned into numbness, and all sensations disappeared.

He stared indifferently at his stiff fingers, then glanced around, surveying the scene—

Berserker was in conflict with Seleucus and his army, and it was only a matter of time before he was defeated. Saber and Miyu, though not in immediate danger, were likely to fall into a disadvantage under the pressure of Aristotle and Amon's priestly group.

Even for him, it was becoming difficult to continue.

Then, it was time to activate one of his trump cards.

"Kariya!"

"Understood!"

Kariya, holding a jar of insects, responded. He stared at the three Command Spells on the back of his hand and gritted his teeth.

The current situation left no room for hesitation. Berserker was their best chance to turn the tide.

Thus, he raised his right hand and exercised the authority of a Master.

"By the power of my Command Spell—regain your sanity, Lancelot!"

Concealing his true name was no longer necessary. Once that holy sword was drawn, the man's presence would surely shine like the light of the lake.

However, after the first Command Spell was used, Berserker only let out a roar, the madness around him slightly dissipating, revealing his black armour.

"As Sakatsuki predicted..."

Kariya smiled bitterly, finally letting go of his illusions.

"By my second Command Spell—break free from the cage of madness, Berserker!"

"By my third Command Spell—I release the chains of the prisoner, return from the chaos, Knight of the Lake, Lancelot!"

One after another, red lights flashed. Under the influence of the Command Spells, the highest achievement of Kariya Matou's life, the magical crystals capable of invoking "miracles," the mental effects of Berserker's class skill "Mad Enhancement" were gradually being negated.

This was one of Sakatsuki's trump cards. After all, Lancelot without Mad Enhancement and the Knight of the Lake with Mad Enhancement were two entirely different concepts in terms of strength!

As the Command Spells took effect, the madness that had consumed Lancelot gradually dissipated. The terrifying visage beneath his helmet returned to its original handsomeness, and the armour tainted by ominous mana regained its pristine lustre.

When the last trace of chaos vanished from his eyes, Lancelot finally returned to his rightful form—the "Knight of the Lake," who, like Diarmuid, had once captivated countless women!

"Master!"

The steady call confirmed that Lancelot had regained his sanity.

"Ber—no, Knight of the Lake, my Servant, you know what to do, right?"

Kariya took a deep breath, discarded the now-empty jar, and took out a new mana jar.

"Yes, though I was lost in madness, I remember everything you said."

Lancelot nodded slightly, his gaze involuntarily drifting past Seleucus, locking onto the distant figure with golden hair and green eyes.

With a look of longing, admiration, and slight intoxication, the knight slowly uttered the title he had called out countless times in his dreams.

"...My King."

Saber, too, had sensed the activation of the Command Spells. When she caught sight of the familiar man, even while surrounded, she widened her eyes in shock and disbelief.

"You are... Sir Lancelot! How is this possible? I never expected you to be Berserker... Is it really you, my friend?"

Even though they were too far apart to hear Saber's voice, seeing her anxious expression filled with joy, Lancelot couldn't help but smile wryly.

"Even though I was the one who destroyed the Round Table, you still treat me this way... Yes, this is just like you, my King."

He slowly knelt down, the man known as the greatest knight of the Round Table whispering:

"Please wait a moment, my King."

"This time, I will not miss my chance."

In the next moment, a hurricane swept through.

This was not the mindless slaughter of a beast. The terror of a beast lies in its "existence," but the terror of a human lies in their "actions."

Amid the splattering of blood, Lancelot moved as if he were in an empty field. He no longer mindlessly pursued the soldiers but instead carved a path with purpose and strategy. Even as fearless soldiers rushed at him one after another, the Knight of the Lake's charge never slowed. Instead, it grew fiercer, like a brilliant meteor.

"Ugh!"

Seleucus, who had tried to catch up to Lancelot, suddenly stopped, forced to catch a soldier who had been flung aside. He looked at Lancelot's retreating figure and couldn't help but smile bitterly.

"In the end, the soldiers became your best tools for counterattack... As expected of the legendary greatest knight..."

In just a few minutes, Lancelot broke through the encirclement, only to plunge back into it, arriving at the side of the person he most wanted to see.

"It really is you, Sir Lancelot!"

Saber's eyes were filled with the joy of reunion as she looked at the man approaching her.

"My friend, my pride, the knight of my ideals."

With a bitter smile, Lancelot shook his head at the king who had haunted his dreams.

"Please, do not call me that anymore, my King. That title belongs to a loyal, perfect knight. I, who betrayed you, am no longer worthy of it."

"No, no, you are—"

Saber urgently denied it.

"That was not a betrayal. I have already forgiven you, Lancelot!"

The man's handsome features grew even more sorrowful.

"Forgiveness... for trampling on that trust and friendship, for leaving your side?"

"Yes, I believe in you..."

"My King, you are always like this."

Cutting off Saber's words, Lancelot sighed deeply, pouring out the remorse and fear that had weighed on his heart for countless years.

"You are always like this... neglecting yourself, thinking only of others. That is why we, all of us, were willing to gather under your banner and fight for you."

"But my King, do you know? I always wished for you to punish me yourself. I wanted you to condemn me out of your own anger!"

"If you had done so—at least I could have convinced myself that the King of Knights who led us was not some terrifying, inhuman being, but a person with a human heart, a soul, who could cry, laugh, feel anger and joy—the holy king we loved and followed!"

"But you... forgave me!"

***

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