...Your Noble Phantasm. Very well, you will get what you want, but I cannot hold this back!

[Gawain tosses his sword up into the air. It rotates slowly, forming what appears to be a miniature sun, its diameter equal to the sword's length. It lands in Gawain's hand as a sun pattern forms on the ground below his feet.]

Power of the sun, I command you -- be my sword of victory!