Shinji Matou at Your Service-Chapter 1099: Ultimate Mastery of Technique

With one step forward, she treads upon the void.

Runes naturally appeared at her landing point, forming solid steps that supported Scáthach's ascent.

Seeing this, Gilgamesh switched Gram, the Demonic Sword, for a strange-looking item, resembling a ritual artifact from Africa or South America.

A purple-black ripple radiated from the artifact, causing the runes surrounding Scáthach to vanish instantly.

Not just the runes—every form of magecraft was disrupted by the artifact's waves, rendering them ineffective. Without a doubt, this was a special Noble Phantasm designed specifically to counter magecraft. Disabling it was tantamount to cutting off one of the enemy's arms.

Deprived of her runic protection, the Queen's movements remained unchanged. She continued to step upon the air, and though the runes were gone, ripples spread with each step, increasing her ascent rather than slowing it.

This, of course, wasn't magecraft but a purely physical skill. Mastery of such a technique allowed her to shrink distances and even walk on air.

However, by this time, the Gate of Babylon, no longer restrained by the runes, had turned its weapons on her.

At its master's command, the full barrage of Noble Phantasms was unleashed.

Without the protection of any Noble Phantasm or magical defense, no Servant could survive such an attack.

Indeed, not a single exception: not Karna, not Artoria, not Ozymandias, not Solomon, and not even Scáthach.

Thousands of Noble Phantasms effortlessly blanketed the area, making the already devastated land and space groan in agony once more.

Despite unleashing such an attack, Gilgamesh showed no sign of satisfaction; instead, his face displayed a rare solemnity. He gripped the artifact tightly in one hand, and the Sword of Rupture in his other hand roared once more—not forward, but backward.

Amid a violent exchange of power, the reason for his gravity became clear.

Somehow, Scáthach, who had been surrounded and was theoretically doomed, had escaped the encirclement and appeared behind Gilgamesh, now positioned on the same level as him.

Using the recoil of his sword swing to retreat, the Hero King launched more Noble Phantasms while speaking in admiration: "I'm surprised. Is it truly possible to achieve such heights with martial skill?"

"Before I realized it, I had done it."

Scáthach continued to step through the air, her form flickering in and out of sight like a phantom, weaving effortlessly through the torrential barrage of Noble Phantasms.

The Queen, who had refined her footwork to the utmost, could not only walk on air but also perform short-range spatial jumps. Using this technique, she escaped certain death and forced Gilgamesh to use the Sword of Rupture for a second time.

"You're getting quite close, Hero King!"

"And what of it?"

Gilgamesh snorted coldly, a defiant glint in his crimson eyes, as he switched to another Noble Phantasm.

An invisible forcefield radiated outward from Gilgamesh, thickening the very air around him as if it had become a dense liquid, severely impeding Scáthach's swift movements.

Taking advantage of this, Gilgamesh opened his treasury fully, launching a 360-degree barrage of Noble Phantasms.

Once again surrounded, Scáthach... summoned new runes!

These flowing runes wove themselves into a tangible curtain, like a massive shield, exuding the black and silver hues of steel.

This was the highest level of defense summoned by the Primordial Rune passed down from the god Odin—the Shield of Divine Iron. It was no longer merely within the realm of magecraft but in the domain of the gods. Noble Phantasms that could interfere with magecraft did not affect it.

Even the countless Noble Phantasms in Gilgamesh's treasury struggled to break through this defense. By the time they did, the Queen of the Land of Shadows had already broken free from the 360-degree encirclement and was continuing her charge.

Gilgamesh dared not be careless. He knew that his close-combat skills were far inferior to Scáthach's, and if she got too close, his chances of victory would be slim. So, he continuously drew more Noble Phantasms, each with different effects, to hinder her progress. Scáthach, in turn, relied on her wisdom and extraordinary technique to counter each one.

Without a doubt, this was a clash of extremes.

On one side, Gilgamesh stood at the pinnacle of what is commonly known as the equipment user with his nearly infinite collection of treasures.

On the other side, Scáthach had reached the peak of technique user, having refined both martial arts and magecraft to their ultimate forms.

Anything either of them exhibited could easily crush most other Heroic Spirits.

Yet, in the battle between these two kings, such exchanges were the most ordinary, the most frequent.

Before anyone realized it, Gilgamesh had already used more than 100,000 Noble Phantasms, each a crystallization of human ingenuity.

Meanwhile, Scáthach had displayed thousands of martial and magical techniques, each one a divine skill coveted by warriors and magi throughout history.

Even so, the battle between them showed no sign of ending, as if it were an endless cycle of reincarnation.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed—perhaps a long time, a short time. In the presence of these two unparalleled beings, time had lost its meaning.

Finally, the endless cycle presented an opportunity for a breakthrough.

At one end of the battlefield, Scáthach, who had become one with her spear, found a chance amid the seemingly infinite clashes. She closed the distance between them to just ten meters—a perilous distance for an Archer.

However, at this crucial moment, the Lancer suddenly stopped her advance. The Archer did not seize the opportunity to widen the distance or launch an attack either.

The two simply maintained their current distance, silently staring at each other, their lips curling into resolute smiles.

Both could see through fate and causality, and both knew that this was the final strike. Every clash, every victory or defeat, everything—all would be decided in the next moment.

For the third time, Gilgamesh raised the Sword of Rupture.

In response, the scattered Noble Phantasms around him began to resonate.

Amplified by the Noble Phantasms, the already ultimate power of the Sword of Rupture grew even more intense. Even before it was swung, the world itself began to warp.

Meanwhile, Scáthach retracted all her runes, condensing them into the tip of her spear. With a light slash, she left a terrifying rift in space.

This clash would truly be the battle between the "strongest" and the "strongest."

And so, in the next instant, as the two exchanged one final look and smile—

The sword and spear were simultaneously thrust forward.

"Enuma Elish! (The Star of Creation That Split Heaven and Earth)"

"Gáe Bolg Alternative: The Ultimate Death Strike"

Two forces, even more powerful than before, clashed—the power of creation versus the power of destruction—leaving their mark on the world.

The skies, the earth, the seas, and the hearts of all who felt this power bore a lasting imprint, as the two were swallowed by the overwhelming collision.