Chapter 449: Shakespeare’s Trump Card

Chapter 449: Shakespeare’s Trump Card

"You said you would remain a spectator until the end and never join the fray, didn't you? Why are you saying this now? Have you changed your mind?"

"Of course not."

Shakespeare, having read their thoughts, spoke to himself. However, he didn't rush to explain. Instead, he maintained an enigmatic expression, savoring the brief moment of being the center of attention for these great heroes.

After a while, he revealed a smug smile. "Father Shirou, Empress of Assyria, this is a rare opportunity. May I showcase my 'work' here?"

"Of course, I was just thinking of having others test it out," Shirou nodded happily.

"It's not just your 'work'; you must include me and my master," Semiramis corrected.

"Yes, as you said, it's a creation by the three of us together. This garden, blending illusion and reality, Father Shirou's miraculous power, my life's work, and the Queen's Noble Phantasm created this masterpiece, this miracle!"

Shakespeare declared loudly, as if on a grand stage, the focal point of everyone's attention.

"Now is the time for this miracle to be born. Assassin, Father Shirou, let us begin. First, Assassin—"

"Watch your tone, writer!"

Semiramis glared at Shakespeare, displeased but not rejecting his command.

Her slender, delicate fingers moved rhythmically in the air, and everyone felt an indescribable wave of magical energy.

Subsequently, the space began to warp—spatial manipulation, a domain of the Second Magic, yet Semiramis accomplished it. This was not only because she was a demigod, a powerful magus from the Age of Gods, but also because this was her garden, her territory.

Indeed, no matter which country this aerial garden traveled to, it would always function as her domain. As long as she stayed in the garden, Semiramis would enjoy the same benefits as Vlad III in Romania. All her attributes would be enhanced, her fame would rise to the highest level, and her attacks would receive beneficial adjustments. Performing magic at the level of true magic, such as spatial transfer or creating puppets, would not be difficult.

Of course, this came at a cost. This Noble Phantasm itself was almost at a game-breaking level. Once outside the garden, Semiramis would be powerless. However, this garden was a mobile fortress, making it impossible to leave.

The puppets created by Semiramis were not ordinary ones. Compared to the grotesque clay puppets made by Black Caster Avicebron, Semiramis's creations were undoubtedly more exquisite.

The puppets were made of metal, yet they did not give off a cold feeling; instead, they emitted a warm, ceramic-like luster. The construction of the puppets was incredibly detailed—from the overall shape and weaponry to the smallest lines on their bodies, all meticulously crafted as if by a master sculptor.

"Are you planning to use your Noble Phantasm to launch a psychological attack on the enemy, and while they are in a state of [absentmindedness], kill them with these puppets? Such a dirty tactic."

"No, no, you misunderstand, great hero blessed by the gods," Shakespeare waved his hand.

"First, I said I wouldn't enter the battlefield, so your guess is incorrect. Second, a truly strong person should be strong in both body and spirit. Mere physical strength is just the boast of a brute."

"Then do you want to test my strength?" Achilles was provoked by Shakespeare.

"I've already said, I'm not good at fighting. Or do you, a great hero, want to bully a weak and powerless writer?"

Shakespeare looked at Achilles with a faint smile.

Achilles scoffed disdainfully.

"A clown who only knows how to play with words and pens."

"Words and pens are also a form of power," Shakespeare said, making a grasping motion with his empty hand, causing a quill to appear out of thin air. "If certain conditions are met, this power can become real and overturn reality."

Achilles snorted coldly. "I'd like to see how you turn words into reality and overturn it!"

"Please enjoy—"

With that, the book in his left hand opened, and its pages turned one by one. The quill in his right hand wrote in the air—the words appeared in sequence and began to move.

Then, the scenery of the throne was replaced, and the content of the book began to erode reality.

"First Folio: (When the Curtain Rises, the Applause Shall Be as Ten Thousand Thunders)! Respond to the creator's (my) call and manifest here—"

"Macbeth, King Lear, Hamlet, Othello..."

PS: Yes, Shakespeare is just that dramatic. Before using his Noble Phantasm, he explains it to you, though even knowing it doesn't help you handle it.

PS2: Shakespeare: The lie of lies can instantly reverse truth and falsehood. The falsehood of falsehoods can instantly become reality.