"So, five times it is."
Fang Mo's voice, calm and devilish, echoed softly.
"...Huh?"
The little girl, who had just sighed in relief, instantly raised her head in shock and disbelief, her childlike face frozen in surprise.
But before she could fully comprehend, Fang Mo's next attack had already begun.
With a single hand pressed against the ground, the earth trembled inexplicably.
All the artillery fire ceased simultaneously, and the smoke and flames dissipated. Berserker, no longer recognizable as human, lay in a large crater. The saturation bombardment had worked well, costing him another life.
But as mentioned before, Berserker possessed the skill *Twelve Labors*, which meant he had to be killed twelve different ways to be truly defeated.
Just as the bombardment stopped, Berserker's body began to heal. All his wounds vanished as if by some form of accelerated regeneration—more like time reversal. In just a few seconds, his eyes snapped open once again.
"Roar!"
As soon as he revived, Berserker let out a furious roar, raising his massive axe-sword.
But at that moment, Fang Mo's next move unfolded.
Out of nowhere, construction materials appeared on the ground—red bricks and more, which rapidly multiplied and formed a cold, eerie structure.
The outer layer of the building was made of red brick, but the interior was reinforced with meter-thick metal blocks. Aside from two lead-gray blast doors, the building had only a few specialized glass windows and valve-like mechanisms.
Through the windows, they could faintly make out Berserker's towering silhouette inside.
"...What is that?"
Saber, bewildered, stared at the strange structure. As someone from medieval Europe, she had never seen anything like it and had no idea what its purpose was.
"I don't know either," Shirou Emiya shook his head, equally confused.
If even a modern person like him couldn't understand, it must be something very unusual—perhaps some kind of specialized prison for Berserker? Maybe a sort of high-security facility?
"...Wait a minute," Rin suddenly realized something, her eyes widening as she turned to Fang Mo. "This building, it couldn't be—"
"Here's a trivia question for you."
Fang Mo ignored Rin and instead looked at the little girl, like a kindly elder patting her head. His tone was warm and gentle. "As a fellow German, do you know why our German showers always have at least eleven holes?"
"What?"
The girl was clearly frightened, her voice shaky. "I... I don't know. What are you planning to do to my Berserker?"
"Because Jews only have ten fingers," Fang Mo said with a smile before snapping his fingers.
At that moment, a hissing sound emerged from the brick structure, and green gas began to fill the room rapidly.
Berserker, inside the building, staggered as if realizing something was wrong. He spat out blood, but instead of showing fear or retreating, he roared and lashed out, swinging his axe-sword at the walls.
With a resounding crash, the ground trembled, a testament to Berserker's terrifying strength.
But strangely enough, the metal walls inside the building only showed a slight scratch.
"How... how is this possible?"
The little girl, standing beside Fang Mo, was dumbfounded. She knew better than anyone just how powerful Berserker was. His strength was top-tier among all the Servants.
Yet even with such monstrous power, he couldn't damage the metal walls?
"As everyone knows, German products are exceptionally durable."
Fang Mo chuckled confidently. "If even our civilian goods are this reliable, imagine the quality of our military-grade materials. This shower room, for example, is lined with a meter-thick precision-cast vibranium. It's guaranteed to last until the Jews are exterminated. Even if a nuclear bomb goes off outside, we'll make sure they die from the gas, not the blast..."
"Ex... extermination?!"
Shirou Emiya gasped, horrified.
"I knew it," Rin sighed, rubbing her forehead in exasperation. "I should have expected this..."
"Raaahhh!!"
In the span of a few short sentences, Heracles, trapped in the gas chamber, let out a painful roar.
While in the *Fate* universe, Servants, being beings of high mystery, could resist many conventional attacks, Fang Mo's creations were on an entirely different level. Even if Berserker could withstand poison, he couldn't resist the myriad negative effects from Fang Mo's MC world potions.
In a matter of moments, Berserker collapsed.
But then, *Twelve Labors* activated, and he revived once again—only to face another wave of poison.
Though Berserker was tough to kill, the logic behind *Twelve Labors* wasn't as exaggerated as one might think. For instance, immunity to poison only covered the specific poison that had killed him. If the mechanics were that outrageous—granting full immunity to physical or thermal damage—he'd be more like Doomsday than a Servant.
The reality was more nuanced.
Illyasviel still didn't quite understand what he meant.
"Forget that lousy Berserker!" Fang Mo suddenly threw up his arms excitedly. "Why don't you become my Master instead? Let's reignite the flames of will and unify the world once I obtain the Holy Grail!"
"Huh?"
Illyasviel was completely dumbfounded.
"Archer!"
Rin, on the other side, was clearly more panicked. Was her Servant actually plotting to betray her now that he'd learned about the girl's heritage?
"Oh, right, I should introduce myself too."
Fang Mo said kindly, "You can call me Uncle Adolf. Seeing how pure your bloodline is, I'll consider you my niece. How about that?"
"A-Adolf?"
Illyasviel's eyes widened in shock, her pupils trembling. "Adolf!? *That* Adolf!?"
"That's right," Fang Mo smiled kindly as he patted her head again. "So, what do you think? Want to join Uncle's side? You could be just like those great ancestors... contributing to the construction of the Empire."
"I..."
Illyasviel hesitated, unsure of how to respond.
It wasn't that she was considering joining him; her bond with Berserker was too deep to simply replace him with another Servant. But Fang Mo's proposal was shocking.
Was this man really the terrifying figure who had once ruled Europe?
However, it seemed like he had mistaken her identity.
She was just an ordinary homunculus on the magical side, not some noble descendant.
"So, have you decided to join Uncle's camp?"
Fang Mo pressed, still trying to sway her. "Think carefully. Unlike a certain someone who claims relatives all over, I rarely acknowledge kin."
"I..."
Illyasviel quickly weighed her options.
Though young, the fact that she had been chosen to participate in the Holy Grail War proved she wasn't foolish.
The situation was dire, and she knew it. If she refused him now, Fang Mo might kill her on the spot.
The man before her was known as a ruthless, cold-blooded demon. He wouldn't hesitate.
So, the best option was to pretend to agree, find a chance to escape later, and maybe even sow distrust between him and his Master.
Having made up her mind, Illyasviel nodded, biting her lip. "I... I'll join you."
"Excellent."
Fang Mo nodded, clearly pleased. With a wave of his hand, the ominous brick structure vanished, and Berserker reappeared before them.
"Berserker..."
Seeing her Servant unharmed, Illyasviel finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"My dear niece."
Fang Mo spoke again, looking at Illyasviel. "Fighting for the Empire is a great honor. Let me confirm one thing with you: based on the intel I've gathered, this Holy War will be as tough as the last one. Are you ready to die for the cause?"
"Archer!"
Rin, hearing this, couldn't take it anymore. She instinctively raised her hand, Command Seals glowing, and looked at Fang Mo in disbelief. "Are you really going to betray—"
"Yes."
Illyasviel noticed this and quickly jumped in to stir the pot further. "I agree—"
*Pssh!*
But before she could finish her sentence, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her chest.
"Wha—"
Illyasviel looked down, stunned, to see a hand piercing her left chest, blood gushing from the wound. She coughed up blood, her face filled with confusion, unable to understand what had just happened.
Everyone was stunned by the sudden turn of events.
"What's wrong?" Fang Mo's calm voice broke the silence. "Why that expression?"
"...Weren't you prepared to die for your country?"