Gilgamesh turned sharply.
His red eyes widened.
"…Impossible—"
But he was already too late.
At the same time, Kuro had already drawn a sword from his Gate.
Prototype Caliburn.
The magical circuits in his body flared brightly, emitting faint lines of light beneath his clothes.
With a single burst, his body shot forward.
CRACK!
The rooftop beneath his feet shattered from the pressure.
Kuro's body surged straight toward Gilgamesh like a living projectile.
In less than a second, he had already reached the same rooftop.
Without losing momentum, Kuro swung Caliburn immediately, aiming for Gilgamesh's right arm.
Gilgamesh reacted almost instinctively.
A small portal opened beside his body, and from within it emerged a golden sword that he immediately caught.
CLANK!!!
A massive metallic impact echoed across the ruins of the church.
Gilgamesh's sword blocked Caliburn's strike just in time, sending sparks flying between the blades.
Now, for the first time since the battle began, the duel turned into close-quarters combat.
Kuro still smiled.
"Why the confusion?" he asked casually. "I learned it from you, you know?"
Those words clearly made Gilgamesh's expression worsen.
Kuro's tone was light, almost conversational. But the meaning was pure provocation.
Admitting he had learned how to counter Gate of Babylon from Gilgamesh himself sounded like a veiled insult—or worse, theft of the King's concept.
Gilgamesh's face hardened.
His gaze filled with disgust and anger he could no longer hide.
"Learned from me?" he repeated coldly.
A sharp, arrogant smile formed on his lips, now far more dangerous.
"Don't make me laugh, faker."
CLANK!
He forcefully deflected another swing of Caliburn.
"You are nothing but a monkey stealing the way of humans."
CLANK! CLANK!
Metal clashes rang out again. Sparks danced between the blades.
"You may imitate my techniques, copy my treasures, even play with the King's toys for a moment."
CLANK!
"But imitation is still imitation."
His tone grew colder, his gaze piercing through Kuro with absolute contempt.
"No matter how hard you try, a zashu like you will never match the original."
Kuro only grinned in response.
Without much hesitation, he pressed forward again, swinging Caliburn repeatedly in an aggressive rhythm.
CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!
The sound of metal filled the night air.
Gilgamesh was not a close-combat specialist. He was far more accustomed to dominating opponents from a distance using Gate of Babylon.
But that did not mean he was incapable of sword fighting.
After all, his basic skill was still extremely high.
However, close range was clearly not his preferred battlefield.
And being forced into such a fight worsened his mood—something he would never admit.
The battle continued atop the ruined church roof.
Blades clashed endlessly as footsteps shifted rapidly among the debris.
Several times, Gilgamesh attempted to open Gate of Babylon beside him. Golden portals appeared almost instantly. But each time, Kuro moved faster.
Enkidu shot out like golden serpents, piercing each gate before it could fully stabilize.
As a result, the portals were disrupted. Gilgamesh's space for maneuvering was gradually restricted, causing the King of Heroes' expression to darken as he realized the situation.
He soon leapt down from the church roof.
For the first time that night, he was slowly being pushed back.
Kuro followed him down, his grin widening.
"How is it?" he asked lightly. "Not comfortable being forced to fight normally?"
CLANK!
Caliburn pressed against Gilgamesh's blade again.
"Or maybe," Kuro continued casually, "you're just too dependent on projectile spam?"
That statement added another layer of irritation to the King of Heroes' face.
Now, not only magical pressure filled the atmosphere around them.
Gilgamesh was truly being forced to fight in a battlefield he did not prefer. And Kuro was clearly enjoying every second of it.
Gilgamesh's expression sharpened further, and in his gaze there was acknowledgment—though still wrapped in overwhelming disgust.
"…I will admit one thing, faker."
His tone was low and cold.
His sword still held Caliburn in place.
CLANK!
"You are quite competent in using my authority."
It sounded like praise, but coming from Gilgamesh, it felt more like something filthy being forced out.
"Disgusting," he continued. "But at least, you are not entirely shameful."
In his left hand, a golden key with intricate design appeared.
Bab-ili.
A key-shaped artifact used by Gilgamesh to access the deepest part of Gate of Babylon—where his most treasured possessions were stored.
The moment it appeared, Kuro's pupils narrowed slightly, his Sharingan rotating once.
Time seemed to slow.
There was no room to allow it to be used.
In less than a second, Kuro moved faster.
His foot slammed into the ground, cracking it and forming a spiderweb-like crater.
CRACK!
Caliburn swept diagonally in a sharp flash.
SLASH!!!
Gilgamesh's left arm was cleanly severed.
The hand holding Bab-ili was thrown into the air.
Blood spurted heavily, forming a red arc beneath the night sky.
THUD.
The severed arm hit the graveyard ground. Bab-ili slipped from the grasp, spinning in the air alongside the arm before finally falling.
Gilgamesh's eyes widened.
His body stiffened for a moment.
His expression froze, as if his mind refused to process the fact that he had just lost an arm.
Silence.
Then a terrifying aura erupted from him.
"…You."
His voice was very quiet.
Almost a whisper.
And because of that, it felt even more dangerous.
Gilgamesh's red gaze was now filled entirely with pure rage.
No more playful arrogance—only the fury of a wounded King.
"You dare!"
Kuro only chuckled softly.
"You think I'd let that happen?" he asked casually while lightly spinning Caliburn in his hand.
"Don't count on it."
Without giving any space, Kuro surged forward again.
Caliburn swept horizontally, aiming directly for Gilgamesh's neck.
SWOOSH!
Gilgamesh's reflexes were still extremely sharp.
In an instant, he stepped back half a pace, avoiding the fatal strike.
However, Caliburn's edge still grazed his skin, leaving a thin red line across his neck.
The wound was shallow—but enough for blood to slowly trickle down the King's neck.
Gilgamesh froze for a moment.
He raised his remaining hand and touched the blood on his neck.
His gaze lowered to his fingers.
Silence.
Then slowly, he let out a small laugh—not amused, but a cold, threatening sound.
"…I see."
He lifted his gaze back toward Kuro, his expression now completely dark.
"It has been a very long time since someone has made me this filthy, faker."
His tone was low, filled with anger that had gone beyond irritation and turned into something far more dangerous.
"You truly continue to surpass every boundary of insult."
Without saying anything further, Gilgamesh jumped back, crossing the ruined church roof boundary and landing on the ground below.
But Kuro gave him no time.
The moment distance was created, Kuro rotated his body and threw Caliburn. The sword spun rapidly through the air like a deadly blade, flying straight for Gilgamesh's neck.
This time, Gilgamesh anticipated it.
A golden portal opened in front of him.
CLANG!
A shield emerged from the portal and blocked Caliburn directly. Sparks exploded upon impact, sending the sword flying aside.
Gilgamesh smirked coldly.
"Cheap tricks."
But that was only a diversion.
Behind him, a small portal opened almost silently.
And instantly, the tip of Enkidu shot out.
SHNK!
Gilgamesh's eyes widened.
The chain pierced his back, driving straight into his heart from behind.
His body froze. His mouth slightly opened, blood dripping from the corner of his lips.
"Gh—"
His gaze slowly dropped to the chain embedded in his chest.
For a split second, his expression showed genuine shock—something nearly impossible.
"You…" his voice was heavy. "Even using that like—"
His words were cut off.
At the same time, Kuro's body shot through the night air, while a golden portal opened beside him.
From it, Kuro drew a new sword.
Prototype Durandal.
A cold glint reflected off its surface.
The moment he landed beside Gilgamesh, there was no pause.
SLASH!
One clean strike.
Fast. Precise.
Too fast for Gilgamesh's body, already restrained by Enkidu and fatally wounded, to respond.
Gilgamesh's head was severed.
It spun through the air.
Blood erupted from his neck stump as the headless body stood for a split second before collapsing.
THUD.
A moment later, his head fell beside his body.
Silence.
Only the sound of the night wind remained.
In the next second, Gilgamesh's golden portals began to fade one by one.
Their light dimmed and disappeared into the night air.
Kuro's own portals also slowly closed.
Enkidu dissolved into particles of golden light.
Around the church area, various Prototype Noble Phantasms embedded in the ground began to crack, then disintegrate into golden dust and vanish like ashes.
Kuro stood still for a moment.
Prototype Durandal still in his hand.
He exhaled slowly.
Finally.
That intense battle was over.
"…A bit troublesome," he murmured.
He spun Durandal lightly, then returned it into his Gate of Babylon.
______
Author's Note:
Creating something, even a fanfic, is not easy! Please support me! Leave comments, reviews, and some (or all) of your Power Stones! 😎
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