The sound of war split the air. Beneath the dark sky of Yamato, magical explosions shook the ground, igniting wild lights among the ruins and the remnants of battle. Five generals of Qihuang Shin formed a tight formation, their faces tense yet unyielding—while five Knights of the Round stood firm, their armor gleaming amidst the flow of magic.
Guan Ruoyang glared at Sir Gawain with a burning resentment, a challenge simmering in his heart. “Your legend is weak, Western Knight. Are those tales just foolish dreams?” he spat, eyes narrowed. Sir Gawain offered a faint smile, twirling his gleaming spear with confidence. “Prove me wrong, General. Show me if Eastern lightning can match the legend that has etched my name in history.”
As thunder rumbled, lightning struck. Both warriors gripped their spears tightly, their bodies taut with tension before launching into fierce attacks. Shockwaves spread through the battlefield, shattering stones and sending ordinary soldiers flying. “Watch out!” shouted a soldier, glancing toward the chaos. “That will destroy us all!”
Meanwhile, Zhang Feiyun swung his fiery sword, waves of heat surging toward Sir Kay, who stood resolute amid a circle of blue flames. “You know, the blaze of legends won’t let your pride overpower true fury, right?” he called out, determination in his voice. Sir Kay, barely flinching, countered the flames with a single swing of his spear, his eyes gleaming with resolve. “Fire isn’t merely a destroyer; it’s a guardian. Let’s see who genuinely masters this element!”
The two fires collided, red and blue, making the air tremble as leaves on the trees caught flame. The soldiers around them fell silent for a moment, mesmerized by the raw power on display. “Nothing will remain of legends but ashes! I'll bury your name in my memory!” Feiyun shouted with fierce conviction. One soldier turned to his friend, his eyes wide with anxiety. “Do you think we’ll survive this? They look like demigods battling it out.”
On the other side, Ma Shulian raised her fan, summoning a storm that whipped around Sir Gareth. “I bring you a new wind! Feel this ether's power, Western Knight!” she declared boldly. Sir Gareth, his hair billowing in the gusts, hovered half a meter off the ground, his gaze sharp and focused. “The wind you summon, Ma Shulian, is child’s play for me. I was born from storms of ages past, while you are merely a guest. Let us see what your game can do!” The storm clashed as the whistling and roaring of the vortex filled the sky, dust and sand swirling into a barrier between the two figures. “Look, all soldiers! This is no ordinary fight!” shouted one soldier, captivated by the spectacle before him.
Zhao Yunliang kept moving, her water whip slicing through the air toward Sir Percival, sharp pillars of water shimmering like spears in the light. “Prepare yourself, shield bearer! Water cannot be contained forever! I’m born of a river that never runs dry!” she declared, her voice brimming with energy. “And I, Sir Percival, guard this shield with honor! Each drop of water you shatter will only reinforce my resolve!” he countered, bracing against her assault with his shield, water splashing and flooding the ground around them as if the storm itself was alive. “You know, Percival, being a guardian doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun!” Zhao teased, a playful grin lighting up her face.
“Every wave eventually retreats. Defense isn’t just about holding firm; it’s about knowing when to let go,” Sir Percival responded, tapping into an extraordinary strength as he thrust his shield forward, unleashing a backlash wave that sent Yunliang staggering backward. “You're too gentle here! There’s no space for doubt!” he called out to his comrades, redirecting the intensity of the battle to flare up elsewhere.
Meanwhile, Huang Zhongsheng drew back and unleashed a radiant arrow toward Sir Leonhart, its glow reminiscent of a shooting star. “Look here, old knight; a new light rises from this world’s darkness!” he proclaimed passionately, hoping to instill a sense of fear in his opponent. With a swift motion, Sir Leonhart sliced through the arrow using his heavy sword, shattering the glowing projectiles one after another. “Light born from vengeance shall only invite deeper shadows,” he retorted coolly, his voice resonating with authority as the clash of battles echoed around them.
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Amidst all this, Wu Xianying fixed her sharp gaze on Fitran. “You really believe invoking legends will somehow make everything okay, Fitran? Do you genuinely trust in that shadow's power?” she questioned, her tone thick with skepticism. Fitran stood tall, his breath deep but his eyes sparkled with unwavering conviction as he replied, “Legends exist to be tested, Xianying. A new world demands sacrifice—blood and tears—yet old souls won’t depart without their final conflict.” He glanced toward the battlefield, where chaos reigned.
Mira dashed to the edge of the field, breathless at the sight of Takeshi teetering on the brink of collapse. “Takeshi! Get back! You can't win this kind of magical battle! You’re being reckless!” she called out, concern etched across her face. Despite the dire circumstances, Takeshi managed a bitter smile, blood trickling from his temple. “If we remain spectators, Mira, history will forget us. I'm fighting for the name of Oda, not merely to triumph,” he stated, his spirit resolute as he thought of his family's legacy.
Amidst the magical explosions, the five generals began their coordinated assault. “Come on, let's unite! We can't let them claim victory!” shouted a soldier from the back, rallying the troops. Wu Xianying raised her staff, conjuring a crimson magic circle—the symbol of Qihuang Shin glowing fiercely in the air. “Qihuang! Reveal your fangs!” she commanded, her voice ringing with authority. A searing aura enveloped the battlefield as her magic surged, causing the ground to shudder beneath their feet.
The five generals leaped forward, their powers combining to unleash a magical storm that surged ahead. “Watch out! They’re coming!” shouted a soldier, his voice cracking as the battle intensified. The Knights of the Round prepared themselves; Leonhart and Percival led the charge at the front, Gareth and Kay flanked them on the sides, while Gawain broke through the lightning vortex behind them, directing the assault. “We have to hold the line, everyone! This war will decide everything!” Gareth urged, his eyes burning with determination.
Then came the inevitable clash of energy—an enormous explosion rocked the battlefield, deafening everyone and sending shockwaves through the entire village. Stones shattered, the ground split open, and trees as well as buildings crumbled in an instant. “What’s happening?! We can’t hold on much longer!” yelled one of the Oda soldiers, panic evident in his voice. “Stay calm! We need to remain focused!” his friend urged, though his own expression betrayed a shared fear.
From a distance, the people of Oda screamed, but Nobuzan stood firm in the tower, hands clenched and eyes sharp as she fought back tears and dread. “I have to protect them,” she thought resolutely. “With my strength, they can survive.”
Wu Xianying shot a concerned glance at Fitran, who stood defiantly amidst the swirling smoke. "Are you really going to hold the line here? This is absolute madness!" she exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion. "You can hang on, but how long will it be before the world comes calling for your destruction?" Fitran responded, his voice laced with challenge as the fierce wind whipped around them, sending dust and smoke swirling.
His gaze remained unwavering. "As long as the people behind me still believe in our cause… I will not falter. But if the world demands destruction, then let me be the one to pen its final chapter," he declared, a fire burning in his eyes. "How can you say that?" Wu Xianying retorted, frustration surfacing. "You always think everything can change, but they are out for our lives!"
As the clash of magic continued, lightning erupted, tearing through the darkness and illuminating their fierce struggle. The Knights of the Round began to falter, some of their armor showing cracks, blood trickling from the faces of the generals, yet none dared to retreat. "We cannot give in!" shouted a soldier as he watched Gawain clutch his sword tightly. "He might just turn the tide!" His comrade's voice trembled in response, "But with their power, it feels like we're staring death in the face."
Wu Xianying and Fitran locked eyes, each understanding the weight of the moment: one more assault could change everything.
