Tokyo: My Superpower Refreshes Every Week-Chapter 780 - 778: For the Glory of France!

The gloomy sky shrouded London, its dim projection onto the ground causing many of England's citizens to opt against venturing outside.

On Bond Street, hailed as London's shopping paradise, foot traffic had noticeably decreased.

Charles walked the streets, with his blond hair and blue eyes, standing tall at six foot three. Even before participating in the four trials, he frequently exercised.

His muscles weren't as exaggerated as those found in gyms, yet they possessed defined lines that attracted the attention of passersby.

He scrutinized the luxury boutiques around him, finding little of interest.

The only commendable aspect seemed to be the women from across the globe.

The various stockings, fearless of the autumn breeze, stirred in Charles, this French man, a desire to pursue a romantic encounter.

But whom to choose?

Charles found himself torn; he enjoyed the pursuit of women.

Whether or not he succeeded, witnessing a woman's smile during the pursuit always brought him satisfaction.

Charles pondered briefly and finally chose a tall blond woman.

He approached, intent on striking up a conversation, "Hello, miss."

Just as he spoke the words, the woman before him suddenly vanished. His eyes widened, quickly scanning the surroundings.

The once-populous Bond Street was now bereft of people, including the staff at Montblanc.

Everyone had disappeared in that instant.

Charles's expression turned grave, gripping the Durandal Sword at his waist, and he shouted, "Who are you? Come forward if you're bold enough!"

"I've never been hiding."

Aozawa's voice floated down from the rooftop.

Charles looked up, seeing a blond man standing beneath the gloomy sky alongside a familiar face.

The well-groomed hair almost prevented Charles from recognizing him. After pondering for a few seconds, he exclaimed in shock, "You're the former Prime Minister Will?!"

"That's right!"

Will nodded and introduced, "This is Alexander the Great, also one of the Holy Grail candidates. Encountering him is quite unfortunate for you."

"Four living people, four dead, it seems their guess was accurate."

Charles muttered, realizing that sometimes the experts' words aren't wrong.

In their expertise, experts' remarks carry significant authority.

"Then, bring it on!"

Charles's fighting spirit soared.

"I'll let you witness the majestic stance of the warriors who fought alongside me."

Aozawa brandished his sword, a simple action that stirred intense vigilance in Charles's heart.

"King's Army."

Aozawa swung his sword downward, opening a barrier.

Suddenly, Charles found himself standing not on Bond Street but in a desolate desert.

The sky was no longer gloomy but a washed-out blue. At the desert's edge, he saw a black line emerging.

The crimson flags fluttered in the wind, the thunderous footsteps echoed like rolling thunder in this space.

Watching the black line appearing on the horizon grow clearer, the endless army stunned Charles, yet he held fast to the Durandal Sword.

"I never imagined I'd get to experience what it's like to attempt to cut down thousands in this era."

He murmured to himself.

Will, standing on a chariot, wore an expression of full excitement—this was the king's army!

"Attack!"

Aozawa swung his sword downward, and the soldiers shouted in unison, launching an assault forward.

...

Like a massive cloud sweeping over the desert, armor and swords, spears were the lightning roaring within.

The yellow sand flew, Charles drew the Durandal Sword, "Come on!"

He shouted loudly, running forward, treading across the soft yellow sand.

The sky suddenly darkened.

Countless javelins tore through the air, a metallic storm descending from the sky.

Charles's heart surged with emotion, the Durandal Sword in his hand responded to his emotions, enveloping a silver-white sword curtain overhead.

Ping, ping, ping, the javelins aimed at him were severed, many embedding in the desert, sending sprays of sand into the air.

The first batch of soldiers soon advanced, spears thrusting forward.

The Durandal Sword in Charles's hand flickered, transforming into countless sword shadows shattering their attacks.

The Durandal Sword could be wielded at extremely high speed, continuously swung.

Tests showed that during a swing, not even a drop of water could penetrate.

The spear points were severed inch by inch, Charles advancing to the front of the soldiers, sword shadows swept above them, raising a series of blood flowers.

Armor simply couldn't block the Durandal Sword.

Charles continued his charge forward.

"Ah!"

The deafening roar echoed in his ears, Charles's gaze fixed on the chariot atop the dune.

Yet there were simply too many soldiers, attacking from all directions; he kept pushing forward, striving to reach the not-so-distant chariot.

No matter how many enemies he cut down, he felt the distance between them remained unchanged. Was the chariot moving backward?

Or was he not moving forward?

This doubt filled Charles's mind. His eyes glanced downward at the ceaselessly captured lives causing blood to spurt forth, dyeing the desert crimson.

Now, all he could do was bravely press forward!

Charles thought, discarding all distractions, focusing on wielding the Durandal Sword with all his strength.

The cold sword light flashed, swiftly covered in blood.

The yellow sand trembled as a squad of heavy cavalry attacked from the flanks.

In Charles' mind flashed a thought: Can horses be ridden in the desert?

This thought was immediately interrupted by a spear stabbing toward him.

Charles swiftly swung the Durandal Sword in his hand, directly cutting the spear shaft, then slashing down to sever the horse's hoof.

Considering the horse's head was too large, and not knowing how many more enemies he would have to kill later, he naturally chose the small, easily cut part.

Without hooves, the horse's body pressed toward Charles. Before the cavalryman could land, he was decapitated by the Durandal Sword.

Charles had no time to feel any relief as more attacks came.

These men were fearless, no, in fact, they had already died once, so they didn't care at all!

Charles grit his teeth, knowing full well that his Noble Phantasm had a weakness, which was that when his mind wavered, the Durandal Sword would have a moment of hesitation.

Could he hold out until the end amidst the endless attacks?

No, he must persevere!

Charles roared loudly, "Ah!"

"What tiny insects, daring to oppose the king."

The chariot's position was atop a sand dune, and from here, Will could see Charles almost submerged in the sea of people yet still stubbornly fighting.

Compared to the seemingly endless soldiers around him, the struggling Charles seemed so small.

Aozawa watched his battle, glanced at the flattering Will, and slapped him across the face.

"Ah!"

Will was sent flying off the chariot, landing in the desert.

"Even the weakest warrior is still a warrior, not someone for a fly like you to judge!"

Though the slap seemed painful, Will dared not show any expression of pain and quickly nodded, "Yes, King, I misspoke, please forgive me."

Aozawa ignored him and continued watching the fierce battle of Charles, a hint of interest in his eyes.

He of course understood the Durandal Sword's flaw.

That Charles could still unleash continuous high-speed slashes showed he hadn't given up inside.

Such a scene of strong will power battling against despair was worth capturing in a photograph.

...

Getting farther and farther.

Charles realized that though he kept swinging his sword and moving forward, the distance to Alexander hadn't decreased at all. Instead, visually, it seemed even farther.

The sand dune was still the same sand dune.

Had he not advanced, but retreated instead?

The doubt flashed through his mind, and a spear suddenly pierced through the sword's barrier. Charles quickly sidestepped, the spear tip grazing his arm, bringing a trace of blood and slight pain that snapped him back to his senses.

"Betting on France's glory! I cannot fall here either!"

Charles roared, wagering on his honor as a Frenchman for one final battle, he would fight to the end!

He stared wide-eyed, his sword once again swinging at high speed as he charged forward.

What did it matter if it was far?

He just had to fight his way back.

He fought fiercely, not noticing a stream of golden light crawling across the azure sky before disappearing.

"What is that?"

Will looked up, recalling a short video, "David?!"

Boom!

A loud explosion echoed from the sky as a stream of golden light pierced through the azure sky, spiraling downward.

Aozawa showed a hint of surprise.

He had thought David would act only after Charles was eliminated.

Was he intending to deal with both of them together?

It didn't look like it, the spiraling fall was directed toward the sand dune.

Aozawa glanced quickly, and soldiers immediately tossed Will onto the chariot. He flicked the reins, "Hyah!"

Crackling, several bolts of thunder flashed around, and the chariot swiftly rose from the sand dune toward the sky.

Boom!

The golden spiral struck the sand dune, exploding with an earth-shattering noise, followed by an extremely strong shockwave spreading outward.

The yellow sand roiled like a sandstorm, lifting soldiers with its immense force.

The entire barrier began to crumble under this vast scale attack.

Charles stepped back and found himself back on Bond Street, surrounded by luxury stores.

Driving the chariot in the sky were Aozawa and Will.

There were people on the buildings on both sides.

On the left, a black-haired girl with ears covered.

On the right, a black-haired youth, with a Noble Phantasm at his waist.

Charles recognized them both as participants in the four-wheel trial.

A drone carrying a communicator flew to Charles' side, "Let's join forces, eliminate others first, and then we'll compete."

David's voice came from it.

Charles understood English and listened, "Why do that?"

"We once fought to protect the world, and now we obtain the Holy Grail, not to wish for anything harmful, but they might."

David spoke his judgment, choosing to trust his former comrades in arms over strangers.

"I see, I accept!"

Charles considered it a good plan and agreed to join David and the three of them.

Aozawa on the chariot witnessed this, thinking that things had become tricky.