The trio advanced under the Fuyuki moonlight, the city's silence broken only by the sound of their determined footsteps against the asphalt. Soon, the shadowy silhouette of Kotomine Kirei's church loomed before them, imposing, almost menacing, standing like a guardian of secrets.
The main gate was closed with a thick chain, rusted with age but still firm. A heavy padlock held it all together, as if the entrance itself screamed for no one to dare cross it.
Shirou approached, touching the cold iron of the chain. "Locked…" he murmured. "As if that would stop someone like him."
Tachie narrowed her eyes, observing the church's structure. "It's symbolic. Kirei never did anything by accident. If the gate is locked, it's because he wants whoever enters to know there's no turning back."
Toji, for his part, simply raised his cursed sword and gave a wry smile. "Nice speech. But jail is jail."
With a single blow, he shattered the chain and padlock. The metallic sound echoed through the silent courtyard like a funeral crack.
The gate creaked heavily as Toji pushed it open, revealing the stone path that led to the dark church doors. A cold breeze swept past the trio, carrying with it the scent of old incense and something else… a faint metallic odor, like dried blood.
Shirou felt his body shiver. "He's inside… I can smell it."
Tachie tightened his grip on his scythe, his expression hardening. "Then let's get this over with."
Toji walked ahead, unconcerned, as if crossing that threshold were nothing more than another chore. "Let's go, before the priest decides to prepare more surprises."
And so, the three of them passed through the broken gate, advancing through the silent courtyard toward the darkness of the church, where Kirei was waiting.
The silence of the church was almost suffocating. Each footstep echoed off the stone walls, resounding like a low, empty whisper. The high ceiling, lit only by the pale moonlight filtering through the broken stained-glass windows, cast distorted shadows that seemed to move with them.
Shirou looked around, feeling his skin crawl. "There's no one here…" His voice was low, but it reverberated like a shout.
Toji smirked, running his hand over the scar on his face. "It's too quiet. That kind of silence always portends trouble."
Tachie took a few steps forward, her scythe firmly in her hands. "Kirei's here. He's just watching… waiting for the right moment."
Suddenly, a soft crack echoed, not from their footsteps, but from the ancient woodwork. As if someone had stepped on the altar.
Everyone turned instinctively toward the sound.
The unlit candles suddenly lit themselves, one by one, spreading a faint light throughout the church. The altar was now lit, but empty… until a deep, calm voice broke the silence: "You have desecrated the house of God with your violent intentions… and yet you think you can find redemption here?"
The voice came from all sides, echoing off the walls as if the church itself were speaking.
Shirou clenched his fists. "Kirei… show your face!"
A low, restrained laugh responded.
The doors behind them slammed shut, leaving them trapped inside the church lit by flickering flames.
The tension that had already gripped the church exploded in an instant.
Out of nowhere, a bright red glow tore through the gloom, a crimson spear flying from the darkness with impossible speed. The air vibrated as the weapon sliced through space, as if death itself had been hurled.
Toji reacted reflexively. He twisted and threw himself to the side, the spear's edge grazing his face. A shallow cut opened on his cheek, but he didn't even blink. "Tsk…" he gritted his teeth, his sharp eyes following the weapon's trajectory. "That's not Kirei's. That's a servant's thing."
Tachie raised her scythe, magical aura flaring around it, and attempted to intercept the spear with a sideways thrust. The impact shook the ground, but the red weapon didn't stop. It grazed his blade, dodging just enough to miss it, crossing the space and plunging into the church wall with a deafening crash.
The spear vibrated against the cracked concrete, emanating a murderous energy so strong that even Shirou felt his legs tremble. His eyes widened, recognizing the weapon's shape. "That spear… I've seen it before…"
Toji took a step forward, his eyes never leaving the darkness. "So he let his dog out."
From the shadows behind the altar, steady footsteps echoed. A tall silhouette emerged, blue armor gleaming in the candlelight, wild eyes fixed on the three. An arrogant grin spread across his face as he drew the red spear back into his hand with a sharp movement.
"Heh… 'New' enemies, huh?" The voice held an almost amused, yet lethal tone. It was Lancer, emanating a predatory aura that made it clear: no one here was safe.
The metallic clang of the spear echoed through the silent church hall. Tachie's gaze hardened immediately, her memories flooding back like a cold blade piercing her mind.
"…You…" she murmured, clenching her fists. "Lancer. The first enemy I faced in this war…"
Her breathing grew heavy, almost trembling, but her eyes burned with determination. The sight of that spear sticking into the ground, of Shirou's blood gushing out that night… it was still a ghost that haunted her.
Lancer twirled the weapon between his fingers with ease, as if it were just a toy. He arched an eyebrow and let out a short, sarcastic laugh.
"Ohh… so you're that little girl I almost tore apart last time." His smile widened in defiance. "Heh, and speaking of almost… I almost finished Shirou off too, didn't I? Such a shame. It would have saved everyone a lot of work."
Shirou gritted his teeth, taking a step forward, his right hand trembling with rage. "You…!"
But Toji raised his arm, stopping him from acting rashly. His eyes remained sharp as razors, studying Lancer's every move. "So you're the one who brought this kid to the brink of death…" he murmured, his tone more curious than indignant. "Not bad. But I'll warn you… if you try to hit him again, this time, you won't get a 'near miss'."
Lancer laughed, spinning his spear and slamming the tip against the ground, the metallic sound echoing through the church like a challenge. "Hah! I like the bold. But watch out, big guy. That spear doesn't miss twice."
The atmosphere grew hostile, and Tachie stepped forward, gripping her scythe tightly. "I won't let you repeat that scene ever again. If I have to, I'll pierce your heart before you have a chance to touch them."
Lancer's smile only widened, his eyes shining with predatory excitement. "That's what I wanted to hear. Let's see if you can prove your point."
The magical energy in the air nearly exploded, the prelude to an inevitable confrontation.
Silence fell over the church once more as Lancer disappeared into the shadows, as if he'd dissolved into thin air. Only the distant echo of his laughter remained, like a mocking specter.
Tachie took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the darkness. She couldn't see him, but she could feel it… that same shiver on her skin, the same instinct for danger she'd felt the first time. The red spear vibrated like suppressed thunder, and her heart raced, not with fear, but with determination.
"He's here…" she whispered, raising her scythe. "And I can feel him."
Shirou stepped forward, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Then let's finish him off together, Tachie."
But she shook her head, firm, without hesitation. "No. This is my fight." Her eyes fixed on Shirou, heavy with memory and resolve. "The first time, I couldn't protect him. He almost killed you before my eyes… I've never forgotten that scene. If I run from this now, I'll remain a prisoner of my own fear."
Shirou remained silent, his fist clenched, but he recognized the weight of her words.
Toji, who had been observing without interfering, let out a light, pragmatic sigh. "Hmph. I can see in your eyes that I won't be able to change your mind."
Tachie turned to them, her tone soft but firm. "Shirou… Toji… I'll hold him back. You two have to find Kirei. He's somewhere in this church, and he won't wait forever."
Shirou hesitated, but Tachie approached, lightly touching his hand. "Trust me this time. I won't lose."
Her eyes glowed like fire in the darkness.
Shirou finally nodded, though his expression was pained. "Fine… but come back alive. I'll wait for you."
Toji adjusted his sword on his shoulder and gave a crooked half-smile. "If you die, I'll be angry. So try to win."
Tachie gave a small smile in response. "I will."
And so, Shirou and Toji walked down the aisle of the church toward the altar, where they knew Kirei might be, their footsteps echoing and receding.
Tachie remained alone in the darkness, her eyes fixed on nothing, her scythe firmly in her hands.
"Come, Lancer…" she murmured, her voice echoing through the hall. "This time, it will be different."
From deep within the darkness, the sound of light footsteps began to approach, and a satisfied chuckle echoed. "Hah… finally. This is what I wanted. A real fight."
And then the spear flashed, cutting through the darkness like lightning, aiming straight for Tachie's heart.
The flames of the church's ancient candles flickered with each impact, illuminating the scene in flashes of gold and crimson. Tachie swung her scythe steadily, the black blade reflecting the flashes of Lancer's weapon, while the Irish servant flashed that savage, confident smile.
"Hmph… you still dare face me?" Lancer spoke, his voice thick with irony. "This spear doesn't miss. It pierces flesh, bone, and destiny. It's the same one that nearly pierced your Shirou's heart. A weapon that knows no mercy."
Tachie planted her feet on the cold stone floor, her eyes blazing at the provocation. She raised her scythe, the curved blade clinking as if responding to the spear. "Perhaps… but this scythe isn't meant to fail either." Her voice was firm, almost solemn. "It cuts through illusions, pierces lies… and today, it will cut you."
Lancer swung his spear with a swift movement, the air hissing with speed. He positioned himself, his body relaxed like a predator about to pounce. "Hah! Fine speech. But words don't kill. Show me if that scythe of yours can truly match my Gáe Bolg!"
Tachie lunged forward, her scythe describing a swift arc that glinted in the darkness of the church. Lancer intercepted with his spear, and the impact resounded like thunder, scattering sparks that briefly illuminated the nave's columns.
The two separated quickly, but wasted no time in advancing again. Lancer delivered quick, precise, almost invisible thrusts, while Tachie dodged them by the skin of her teeth, using the long handle of her scythe to parry and redirect the blows.
"Good!" Lancer exclaimed, her blue eyes shining with adrenaline. "You're not the same girl as before!"
"No…" Tachie replied, her breathing steady, her gaze fixed. "Today, I'm not fighting to survive. I'm fighting to win."
And with that, the scythe swung again, this time charged by the energy she accumulated with each swing, as if the very air of the church were being sucked into the blade.
The battle intensified, blow after blow, each clash echoing like funeral bells, announcing that only one would emerge from this confrontation alive.
Meanwhile...
The silence in the church was heavy, broken only by the echo of Toji's boots and Shirou's firm footsteps against the stone floor. The scent of old incense still permeated the air, mingling with the mustiness of the forgotten walls.
Toji, with his relaxed and carefree manner, broke the silence: "So, kid… where did you come from?"
Shirou looked up, still focused on the darkness of the church corridors, and answered without hesitation: "I was born right here. Fuyuki is my hometown."
Toji arched an eyebrow, momentarily surprised, and let out a short, almost ironic laugh. "Hah… Fuyuki, huh?" He reached into his pocket, as if remembering something distant. "This city has a strange smell… a weight that never disappears."
Shirou remained silent, but Toji continued, his voice carrying something more serious than his usual tone. "I remember that fire… that 'disaster' everyone talks about to this day." He paused for a moment, staring at the candles dimly illuminating the wooden benches. "The red sky, the flames engulfing everything… an entire city doomed in a single night."
Shirou clenched his fists at this, his eyes hardening. "…I was there," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "I was one of the survivors."
Toji glanced at him sideways, his normally expressionless face carrying a flicker of interest. "So that's it." He let out a short whistle. "A boy born from the hell of Fuyuki… and now he's in the middle of another damned war. Fate has a sense of humor."
Shirou took a deep breath, but didn't look away. "It doesn't matter where I came from… it only matters what I choose to do now."
Toji gave a dry laugh, almost approving of the answer, before walking faster down the aisle. "Hah! You sound pretty, kid… let's see if this holds up when we find that damned priest."
The candles in the church flickered, as if an invisible breeze had passed through the sanctuary. The echo of footsteps ceased. A deep voice, thick with irony, broke the silence. "The Fuyuki fire… tragedy and miracle in equal measure."
Shirou and Toji instinctively went on guard, turning toward the altar. From the darkness between the columns emerged the imposing figure of Kotomine Kirei. His black cassock seemed to blend into the shadows, and his golden eyes glowed like embers in the pitch black.
He walked slowly, as if each step were a sermon. "And there you were, Emiya Shirou… saved from the flames by that man. Kiritsugu Emiya. The so-called 'magician killer.'" A cold smile curved his lips. "Funny, isn't it? The boy's savior was the same one who ignited the hope of so many others."
Shirou clenched his fists, his teeth grinding. Kiritsugu's name, spoken that way, was like a wound reopening. "Don't speak of him like that."
Kirei raised an eyebrow, unhurried. "It's just the truth. You inherited his emptiness. A life dedicated to saving others… but without ever saving yourself." His eyes narrowed, assessing Shirou with surgical precision. "You are living proof of the irony of the Holy Grail."
Toji, bored, rested his katana on his shoulder. "Hmph. Talkative priest. Are you going to preach until dawn, or are you going to show us why you're hiding in this rotten church?"
Kirei smiled wider, ignoring Toji for a moment, and continued, "And now… we have another boy caught up in this cycle. Yuji Itadori." He tilted his head, as if studying a rare collectible. "A cursed vessel. A burden as heavy as yours, Shirou. Both chosen, both damned."
Shirou narrowed his eyes, holding firm to the words, but his heart sank. The way Kirei wove his and Yuji's fates together sounded cruelly logical, as if it were a joke from the Grail itself.
Kirei spread his arms wide, like a priest before his faithful. "Kiritsugu… Yuji… and you, Shirou. All toys of the same tragic fate. The difference is that I…" his lips parted in a cruel smile, "I've learned to find pleasure in this suffering."
The air in the church grew stifling. Even Toji, with his carefree demeanor, tightened his grip on the katana, his muscles ready to react.
Shirou's gaze remained steady, piercing the golden glow of Kirei's eyes. "So tell me… where is Kenjaku?"
For a moment, the priest just smiled, that same smile that felt more like an open wound on his face. "Kenjaku?" he repeated as if savoring the word. "I wouldn't know how to answer."
Shirou narrowed his eyes. Something was wrong. Kirei's tone wasn't one of ignorance, but of someone deliberately hiding a secret. The lie was clear, but the priest maintained his mask masterfully.
Toji snorted impatiently. "This guy reeks of lies." He adjusted the katana on his shoulder. "All that's left to do is decide whether we'll force the truth out of him."
Before Shirou could take another step, a shiver ran through him. Something cut through the air, heavy, like a presence crushing the room. It wasn't Kirei. It was someone else.
Shirou turned his face to the shattered stained-glass window at the back of the church. A suffocating golden aura filled the space as if the sun itself descended upon them. He couldn't immediately identify it, but everything in his instinct screamed that this was an enemy on another level.
"Who…?" he murmured, his fingers already preparing to materialize swords.
Toji narrowed his eyes but remained silent, only moving a few steps forward, between Shirou and the new threat.
Kirei opened his arms, almost in reverence. "And here comes the true trump card of this war…"
Shirou felt his chest tighten. Tachie.
She was still facing Lancer, alone.
What if this new enemy was linked to him…
"Damn it…!" Shirou gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Tachie's in danger!"
Wasting no time, Shirou spun on his heel and sprinted down the church corridor, swords already appearing in his hands. He couldn't risk it. He couldn't leave her alone against an unknown enemy.
Toji raised his katana, a smirk appearing on his face. "Hah… that leaves me and the priest."
The echo of Shirou's footsteps faded into the darkness, while behind him, the golden glow intensified, reflecting off the church walls.
Toji's gaze narrowed. He twirled the katana in his hand, but instead of preparing to strike, he let it rest against the church's stone wall. The metallic clang echoed through the empty hall.
"Hm… I won't even need this," he muttered, clenching and unclenching his hands with a crack of bone. "I hear you're skilled. I'll show you how a 'nothing guy' can crush a priest like you."
Kirei maintained that same cold smile. His eyes glinted in the dim candlelight, assessing Toji as if he were a wild animal released into the arena.
"Interesting." His voice sounded calm, almost satisfied. "A warrior who gives up his weapon. Perhaps it's the first honest decision of his life."
Toji wasted no time in conversation. He shot forward like a bullet, his heavy, muscular body moving with inhuman speed. His right fist sliced through the air toward Kirei's face.
The priest didn't flinch. Moving with the coolness of a veteran, he raised his arms in guard and took the impact. The sound of the clash echoed like thunder through the nave of the church. The stone floor beneath Kirei's feet cracked, but he stood firm, sliding only a few inches backward.
"Hah!" Toji smiled, his eyes shining with adrenaline. "So you can really take a beating."
Kirei responded with an immediate counterattack: a side kick aimed at Toji's ribs. The impact vibrated the air, but Toji twisted, blocking with his arm, and then unleashed a hook punch that grazed Kirei's chin.
The two moved quickly, exchanging blows like beasts in a tight cage. Fist to fist. Knee to rib. Elbows slicing through the air. Each impact shattered pews, cracked walls, and made the church shudder.
Toji chuckled softly between blows, his excitement brimming over. "Hah… I haven't had this much fun in a long time!"
Kirei, his smile widening, replied without missing a beat: "Finally… a worthy opponent."
And the fight between them became a brutal dance, two superhuman forces testing each other in the very house of God.
Toji had dropped his weapon not only out of arrogance, but also as a provocation. He wanted to see how far this priest could go without relying on tricks. His muscles tensed, every fiber of his body ready to explode with speed. Kirei, on the other hand, remained calm, his eyes fixed on Toji with a subtle gleam of satisfaction. He was facing someone who could fill the void in his existence, at least for a few moments.
The first impact had already shaken the church. Toji's fist had caused the ground to crack beneath Kirei's feet, but the priest hadn't backed down. Now, the two were locked in a frenetic exchange.
Toji used a raw, visceral, instinctive style. His strikes were crushing; there were no traditional flourishes or defenses, just aggression. Each punch felt like a battering ram through the air, and each kick was so fast it resembled a blade more than a leg. He used his body as a demolition weapon, testing Kirei's durability with every blow.
A straight punch from Toji sliced through the air, aimed at Kirei's face. The priest blocked it, but the impact sent him sliding backward, destroying the bench behind him. Before he could regain his composure, Toji was on top, delivering a rising uppercut. The air seemed to split with the force of the punch, and Kirei had to leap back, letting his fist pierce the void and strike the church column. The stone shattered into pieces.
"Hahah! Now that's fighting!" Toji shouted, his breath coming in short gasps, but his eyes were alive, almost in ecstasy.
Kirei, unlike anyone else, was a martial monk trained to transform his body into a precision weapon. He absorbed blows, redirected them, and counterattacked in the smallest possible space. There was no waste in his movements, only surgical coolness. Each punch he landed on vital points—throat, liver, solar plexus—seeking to destabilize, not just wound.
When Toji advanced again, Kirei intercepted with an elbow, striking Toji's chin. The impact made the mercenary bite his tongue, blood splattering on the ground. Wasting no time, Kirei unleashed a sequence of three well-aimed strikes: a kick to the knee, a straight to the liver, and a punch to the chin to finish.
Toji staggered back a step, but soon laughed, spitting blood onto the ground. "You're really good… but it's still not enough!"
The fight escalated. Toji began to move like a wild beast: he ducked, darted sideways, and attacked from unlikely angles. His body seemed indestructible, oblivious to the pain. He let a few of Kirei's blows land only to find the opening to crush the priest with devastating punches.
Kirei, for his part, was beginning to enter an almost religious state. Each blow he received only increased the glow in his eyes. He felt the pain, but within it lay ecstasy, a feeling he had long sought. He reciprocated with increasingly aggressive attacks: kicks that shattered benches in their wake, punches that left craters in the ground.
A critical moment came when Toji landed a side kick to Kirei's abdomen, slamming him against the church wall. The stones shattered, and the priest was buried under rubble. The silence lasted only a second. Then, a shadow emerged from the dust: Kirei emerged unharmed, his fists raised, and shot toward Toji.
The two collided in the center of the nave like two meteors. Fist to fist. The impact shattered the stained-glass windows and shook the ceiling.
Toji unleashed a brutal barrage, punch after punch, as if he were crushing a mountain with his bare hands. Kirei absorbed each one, blocking some, dodging others, until he found an opening. With a perfect turn, he landed a spinning kick to Toji's face. The impact was so powerful it threw the mercenary against the altar.
The altar shattered, and Toji rolled amid the rubble, but quickly rose to his feet, his face bleeding and a feral grin. "Now… you're cheering me up."
Kirei, breathing heavily, his fists trembling, returned the smile. "Toji Fushiguro… I've finally found someone who can show me what it means to be alive."
And then they clashed again, with the intensity of two titans trapped in a small space, each blow an earthquake, each breath a roar. The church was no longer a temple; it had become an arena, the stage for a battle between flesh-and-blood monsters.
Kirei had a wicked grin plastered across his face, his every breath heavy but filled with satisfaction. Toji, on the other side, wore the same savage grin, as if he were facing the perfect opponent, one who wouldn't back down and had the courage to face him to the limit.
They continued exchanging blows relentlessly, the sounds of punches and kicks echoing through the destroyed church, each impact shaking the air. Both were covered in blood and sweat, but neither showed any signs of weakness, only a growing desire to continue.
Then, mid-swing, Toji took a step back, as if preparing another punch. Kirei followed the movement, but deep down he knew: this man wasn't playing fair. In the blink of an eye, Toji slid his hand to his blade, drawing it, intending to slash the priest in the back the instant he created an opening.
Kirei realized the trick, instinct and experience telling him what was about to happen. Before the blade could sink into his back, Kirei twisted and, with a precise and brutal blow, plunged his own knife into Toji's leg, piercing muscle and tendon.
Toji grunted in pain, his knee giving way for a moment. But instead of retreating, he laughed, a hoarse, animalistic laugh. Even wounded, his strength didn't wane. He grabbed the blade back, his eyes gleaming with savagery. "You're good, priest… but I'm better."
With a devastating movement, Toji thrust the blade at Kirei, this time true. The priest staggered, blood trickling from his mouth. His eyes, however, still held that glint of satisfaction, almost as if he'd achieved something he'd always sought.
He fell to his knees, still wearing a wicked smile, before collapsing to the ground.
Toji, limping from the wound in his leg, remained standing, breathing heavily. His victory wasn't clean, but it was still a victory.
The church was now plunged into silence, broken only by the sound of blood dripping onto the ground and Toji's labored breathing.
Toji limped toward the entrance, blood streaming from the still-fresh wound in his leg, but his expression betrayed no pain, only the cold instinct of a hunter who couldn't stop. It was then that he heard the explosion echo in the distance, reverberating off the church walls like muffled thunder.
He followed the sound hurriedly, ignoring the throbbing in his body, until he reached the main door that led to the larger hall. But when he tried to push it, he felt an unnatural resistance: the wood and iron were coated in a layer of thick ice, crystalline and glistening in the little light that remained. The cold bit his fingers as soon as he touched the surface.
"…Tsk," Toji growled, gritting his teeth.
Without hesitation, he raised his blade and, with sharp, brutal blows, shattered the ice into shards that scattered across the floor. The door creaked loudly, yielding to the weight of his strength, until it finally swung open.
The scene unfolding before him made even Toji narrow his eyes: the hall was blanketed in an artificial blizzard, ice crystals suspended in the air like sharp blades. And in the center stood Shirou, Tachie, and Lancer, their bodies rigid, partially frozen, as if an icy prison had swallowed them each.
"What the fuck?"
Shirou struggled to move, his arms trying to break the layer of ice that bound him, but he could barely breathe in the suffocating cold. Tachie was kneeling, her scythe lying at her side, the ice creeping up her legs and arms, binding her like invisible chains. Lancer, however, for all his strength and endurance, was almost entirely imprisoned, only his burning eyes betraying his fury.
The air was heavy, sharp, every breath seemed to burn from within. Toji narrowed his eyes, his hand firm on his blade, his body ready to react. He needed no explanation to understand: there was a new enemy there.
And then, the voice echoed through the cold darkness, calm and imposing, as if coming from the ice itself: "...Did you really believe you could play war without paying the price?"
The ice on the ground began to move like a living serpent, making way for the slowly revealing figure.
"Then the ice woman has arrived..."
End of Chapter 25