Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight

Similar to how Lancelot's Noble Phantasm, Arondight Overload, this is the purest application of magical energy release. Without chanting spells to limit its power, the immense magical energy is simply unleashed to perform an unprecedented large-scale strike!

With magical energy far surpassing any previous release, it is infused into the Holy Lance to accelerate and enhance its power.

The mere acceleration of magical energy produced a resonating hum!

Buzz. Buzz!

As the hum, akin to the pulse of a star, reverberated, the atmosphere and the Age of Gods' ether surrounding Alaric began to flow and form visible whirlpools!

This phenomenon was so extraordinary that even Merlin could no longer remain calm.

This was the first time Merlin had seen Alaric fully draw on the ether of the Age of Gods, combined with the ingenious use of the Holy Lance as a magic energy circuit to accelerate its flow.

What stood out most was the disturbance caused by the generation of this magical energy.

The fact that the mere generation of magical energy could influence the surrounding environment and even create a resonating hum was utterly incredible.

This indicated that the rapid operation of magic circuits in such a short time had accumulated shockwaves, which in turn affected the atmosphere!

According to Merlin's knowledge, the last person capable of such an astonishing feat was someone from a distant future—someone who holds the Fifth Rank.

The Fifth Magician—Aoko Aozaki.

Though the quality of Alaric's magic circuits was not outstanding, the operational speed of those circuits was unparalleled, a singular existence.

Yet here, in the distant past, Alaric achieved a comparable feat.

Even Merlin, a Grand Caster, couldn't help but marvel at Alaric's extraordinary talent.

If not for Artoria's dragon blood, Alaric, as a mere human, could have risen to become a remarkable magus, one whose potential would allow a single individual to rival the accumulated knowledge of generations of other magi.

He was a true prodigy.

But when Alaric directed his natural talent toward combat, he became a born warrior!

Whether it was the techniques of physical combat, the mastery of weapons, or the use of magical energy, he could grasp them quickly and grow stronger with each battle.

Having survived hundreds of battles and faced countless armies without fear, he was nothing short of a hero!

Merlin couldn't help but think that Alaric was someone worthy of the title of Knight of the Round Table, unlike those stagnant individuals who only caused trouble for Artoria.

In just a few seconds, the magical energy fluctuations around Alaric reached their peak.

Crimson lightning appeared before Merlin's eyes.

Within the radiant blackness, streaks of crimson light emerged.

With the addition of crimson lightning, the hum of the Holy Lance ceased, replaced by a howling storm!

It was as if a red dragon was slowly ascending, leaving everyone present in awe.

For the first time, they witnessed a glimpse of the dragon within Alaric.

The one who felt it most profoundly was none other than Merlin.

At the moment when the red dragon's aura surged, Merlin, watching Alaric's profile, felt a fleeting sense of illusion.

It was as if he saw the figure of an old friend.

But that was impossible. Even Mordred, a clone identical to King Arthur, had never given Merlin such a startling illusion.

Neither the red dragon's blood within Alaric nor his slightly similar features to Artoria could compare to Mordred's resemblance.

Yet Merlin could clearly distinguish between Mordred and Artoria—they were like two completely different flowers.

Only Alaric evoked such an illusion within Merlin.

"Artoria, you truly are a willful king—"

The Sixth Singularity, born from pain and willfulness, had nurtured such a monster.

Even someone like Merlin, who enjoyed observing humanity, felt the need to teach Artoria a lesson.

Was it because he hadn't guided Artoria well enough?

At this moment, Alaric spoke.

"Holy Lance, weigh anchor—" With the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad tightly gripped in his hand, Alaric gazed at the approaching horde below and slowly uttered these words.

Hearing Alaric speak, Merlin, who had been reminiscing about his friend, was instantly taken aback.

The adjusted Holy Lance was no longer capable of a true name release; even Alaric could only use pure magical energy release.

But at this moment, Alaric was performing a Noble Phantasm's true name chant.

Was it just for ceremonial effect?

At this thought, Merlin's smile grew wider.

This bold and straightforward fellow, Alaric, seemed to be someone quite similar to him!

During his time with Alaric, Merlin had felt that their personalities and overall disposition were strikingly similar.

Even without the connection to Artoria or membership in the Round Table, they could have gotten along well.

Of course, that was assuming Alaric was a normal person.

Merlin didn't want to spend his days constantly on edge.

As Merlin descended into a whirlwind of thoughts, Alaric's preparations approached their conclusion.

The tip of the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad, raised high, erupted with a blinding black radiance, resembling a black sun descending upon the city walls. A terrifying magical vortex shot skyward.

In an instant, it spread across a hundred-meter radius of the wall, causing the soldiers below to lift their heads and gaze at the black radiance in awe.

"..."

Merlin, the closest observer, bore the full brunt of the magical impact. The fierce winds blew his white robes and long hair into disarray, stripping him of his formerly leisurely demeanor.

But Merlin had no time to care about his appearance, his gaze fixed entirely on Alaric and the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad in his hands.

At this moment, Merlin truly witnessed for the first time the power Alaric possessed.

Far beyond Alaric's skill in close combat, the sheer release of his magical energy alone reached the level of Anti-Army Noble Phantasms—a truly terrifying power!

"This is truly extraordinary—"

Merlin muttered to himself, clutching his hood.

Power was only the surface. As Alaric unleashed his magical energy and the dormant force within him surged, Merlin could finally see Alaric more clearly.

And it was precisely this clarity that left Merlin—

Astonished.

Was it due to the Age of Gods? Or was it the destruction of the Sixth Singularity that triggered it?

The embryo had already begun to grow.

"Holy Lance, proclaim the end—Rhongomyniad!"

Oblivious to the thoughts of others, Alaric gazed at the horizon. A smile unknowingly curled at the corners of his lips. As the magical energy within him reached its peak, the emotions brimming in his heart began to overflow.

With the chant as a catalyst, Alaric's ultimate light was about to shine.

[Imaginary Noble Phantasm - Rhongomyniad: Spear of the End]

A tribute to the King of the Past, the glory, and figure of a king long gone.

A strike born from ephemeral memories and six months of longing.

Light rose.

Like a radiant black light at the end of the heavens, it ascended under everyone's gaze, piercing the vast sea of clouds.

The vaporized clouds scattered without ever touching the black radiance, revealing the blue sky beyond.

Under the watchful eyes of all soldiers, the black light left an indelible mark on the heavens, a black scar that seemed eternal.