Toji quickly ducked behind one of the church's columns, breathing calmly and steadily, his eyes following the white vapor escaping from his mouth. The cold was too intense even for someone like him. Every second of standing still could be fatal. The ice was advancing across the ground like a tidal wave, swallowing everything around it, and even the slightest touch could mean doom.
Shirou, still partially trapped, forced his body to move, the sound of cracking ice echoing like shattering glass. He looked ahead, where a figure with long, pale blue hair and an inhuman expression floated above the frozen ground. Her white robes shifted in the icy wind, and her gaze, empty and cold as winter itself, fell upon them with indifference.
"Uraume…" Shirou muttered, feeling the ice creep up his arm. "Why are you doing this?!"
Uraume's gaze fell on him, her voice echoing serenely, yet sharp as a thin blade: "Because my master wishes."
The words came out without hesitation, without emotion.
"Master?" Tachie whispered, her voice trembling not just from the cold, but from the foreboding of the name to come.
Uraume gave a small smile, a gesture that seemed more like a cruel reflection of the pleasure in seeing the despair of others.
"Sukuna-sama still sleeps…" she said calmly, raising her hand, and the air around him froze in an instant. "But I have prepared him. The world must be purified before he fully awakens."
Shirou forced himself free, gritting his teeth, trying to break the layer of ice binding his legs. "Are you saying you're… clearing his path?"
Uraume only nodded slightly. "Every soul marked by him must bow or disappear."
Toji, still hidden, watched everything with watchful eyes. He understood the gravity of the situation:
whatever Uraume was doing wasn't just a display of power, it was a ritual, a preparation. The cold was an extension of Sukuna's will.
Shirou managed to partially free himself and shouted, "You're destroying everything because of a monster that only brings suffering!"
Uraume's gaze turned to him, and for the first time, the smile disappeared.
"Monster?" she repeated, her voice echoing coldly. "You don't understand anything about him."
A blast of ice blasted toward Shirou, and the ice surged forward with brutal force. Toji leaped from his hiding place, his blade slicing through the air, and the ice shattered into a thousand fragments.
"Okay, enough fanatic talk." Toji said with a half-smile, steeling himself. "If this Sukuna guy wants to wake up, he'll have to wait."
Uraume looked at him with unwavering calm, and for a moment, the silence hung heavy. "You… have no idea who you're challenging."
And the entire floor of the church began to freeze again, as Toji, Shirou, and Tachie prepared to face the storm.
Uraume was about to advance, the air around him distorted with absolute cold, tiny particles of ice dancing in the air, reflecting the dim candlelight like frozen diamonds. Toji held his blade
tightly, his muscles tense, his gaze fixed. He needed no words, just waited for the right moment to strike.
But then, something happened.
Uraume stopped suddenly, as if an invisible presence had touched his mind.
His eyes turned to nothing, and an expression of recognition and loyalty took over his face.
"Sukuna-sama…" she whispered softly.
The temperature dropped even further for a moment, and then… it began to stabilize. The cold air lost its grip, and the ice crystals that had been hovering there began to break apart in the air, turning to vapor.
Shirou, still partially frozen, looked confused. "What… happened?"
Uraume slowly lowered her hand, and her gaze, once sharp and merciless, now seemed distant, focused on something far beyond that church. "I have been called," she said calmly, taking a small step back. "The awakening… is near."
Tachie tried to get up, leaning on her scythe. "Wake up? You're talking about Sukuna, aren't you?!"
Uraume just smiled enigmatically. "When the sun rises, you will understand." And in the blink of an eye, she disappeared into a freezing mist, the cold dissipating with her.
Toji lowered the blade, huffing. "Tsk… ran away," he muttered, breaking the ice covering part of the ground with a kick.
He walked over to Shirou and Tachie, who were still partially trapped. With brute force, he drove the blade into the ground, shattering the frozen layers that bound them. The sound echoed loudly, the ice cracking with cracks that resembled breaking bones.
Shirou took a deep breath, trying to catch his breath. "Thank you, Toji… without you, we'd be turning into statues right now."
Toji shrugged indifferently. "I didn't do it for you," he said, even though his tone made it clear it was a half-lie.
Tachie looked at the spot where Uraume disappeared, the air still thick with the lingering cold energy. "So Sukuna… is about to wake up," he muttered, clenching his fist.
Silence fell over the three of them. The sound of the wind rushing through the broken windows was the only thing that remained.
They knew what that meant: the real war was just beginning.
Toji stared at Lancer's still partially frozen body with the same cold, disinterested gaze as ever. Icy steam slowly rose from the ground, and the sound of cracking ice mingled with the faint hum of the wind passing through the church's ruined structure.
He tilted his head and asked matter-of-factly, "So... do you want me to finish him off or should I leave him there to turn into a popsicle? I already killed the priest, I can handle one more."
Shirou, still catching his breath, glanced quickly at Lancer, then at Toji.
"No need…" he replied, his voice firm but calm. "He'll disappear soon. Servants don't last long without a Master."
Toji gave a sarcastic half-smile. "Hm. Saves me some work, then."
Just then, a hoarse laugh echoed through the nave of the church. The ice around the Lancer began to slowly crack, and the blue glow of the frost mingled with the spiritual energy emanating from it.
"Heh… you guys are pretty confident for someone who thought I'd already kicked the bucket." Lancer said, opening one of his eyes, still surrounded by the ice that covered part of his body.
Toji arched an eyebrow. "Huh… still talks. Impressive."
Lancer forced himself to move, the ice cracking loudly as he took a deep breath. His body still trembled from Uraume's extreme cold, but his voice held the same provocative tone as ever. "Do you really think I'd die like this? I've faced worse than ice and holy spears…"
Shirou crossed his arms, exhausted, but with a slight smile. "Lancer..."
Lancer gave a short laugh. "Yeah, kid, dying quickly was never my style."
Toji approached, resting the blade on his shoulder. "So what are you going to do now, 'hero'? Are you going to just stand there and freeze until you disappear?"
Lancer looked up at the sky through the cracks in the ceiling, where the moonlight still shone.
Silence returned to the church, and the cold wind passed through the broken stained glass windows again.
Even though he was injured, even though he was about to disappear, Lancer still maintained the posture of a man who would not bow down to anything, not even death.
Shirou watched Lancer silently. The warrior was still partially surrounded by ice shards, steam escaping from his body as he stood tall, as if denying his own demise.
Toji, at his side, already seemed ready to leave, but something crossed Shirou's mind, a spark of reasoning and intuition.
He remembered Sakura. And most of all, without a Servant.
A dangerous void in a conflict like that, especially now that the remaining enemies were Kenjaku, Uraume, and Gilgamesh.
Shirou approached Lancer, stopping a few steps away.
The warrior raised an eyebrow, curious.
"So, kid? You going to change your mind and try to kill me too?" Lancer teased, still with that cynical smile.
Shirou shook his head. "No… I'm thinking of doing the opposite."
Lancer stared at him, the mocking tone slowly fading.
Shirou continued, "There's still a chance for you to remain in this world. You don't have to disappear, Lancer."
"And what would make me continue?" he asked suspiciously, crossing his arms.
"A new contract," Shirou replied firmly.
Toji and Tachie exchanged quick glances.
"Sakura…" Shirou continued. "She doesn't have a Servant right now. If you agree to form a pact with her, you can fight alongside us.
He paused, his gaze serious. "And we need all the strength we can get to face Kenjaku… and Gilgamesh.
Hearing that name, Lancer's face changed. His expression hardened, and the fire of anger flashed in his eyes. "Gilgamesh…" he repeated with disdain. "Is that bastard still breathing?"
Shirou nodded. "Yes. And he seems to be in league with Kenjaku."
Lancer clenched his fists, the ice around his feet cracking with the movement. "Heh… I don't need to think much then. If Kirei is dead and the 'King of Heroes' is still out there… that's more than enough to convince me."
He looked at Shirou, his smile returning, now with a hint of respect. "Alright, boy. I accept the deal. Take me to the girl."
Toji snorted, resting the blade against his shoulder. "Hmph, a cold, angry servant. It'll be fun to see what you do with it."
Tachie, on the other hand, smiled faintly. "A warrior who fights for revenge and honor… suits you well."
Lancer spun his spear, pointing it forward, steady. "Then that's it. Until the last enemy falls, I will fight with you."
The metallic sound of the weapon echoed through the church, and the pact, even if not yet formalized, was sealed there, among promises, scars and the same determination that united everyone: to finish off Kenjaku and put an end to that war.
Tachie looked around the church, the air still heavy and filled with the metallic smell of blood and frost. She felt the spiritual energy slowly dissipating, the end of that fight, and the beginning of another. With a serious look, she turned to Shirou, Lancer, and Toji.
"We need to get out of here. Now," he said, his voice firm, almost urgent. "The cold will attract curses, and… I feel something worse coming. We have to get home as soon as possible."
Shirou nodded, putting away the ethereal blade he still held. "Right. Yuji is still in seclusion. If what Uraume said was true… Sukuna might be close to awakening."
Lancer twirled his spear and nodded, his gaze returning to his soldierly stance. "Then it's time to run. No warrior wants to miss the real battlefield."
Toji gave a slight smile, the same smile that always preceded something violent.
"I hope the boy is still alive when we get there."
And so, the four of them set off, running down the dark Fuyuki road, the wind cutting into each of their faces as the moon illuminated the silent city.
About that...
At the gate of the residence, the night was far from peaceful. Explosions of energy echoed across the hill, the ground shaking with each impact.
Choso and Rin were on the front lines, guarding the house's entrance. Behind the gates, Yuji's body lay motionless within a dome of his cursed energy, the cocoon he had created to strengthen himself.
Rin cast defensive spells, magic circles spinning before her like luminous gears. The runes burned in the air, blocking the energy waves coming from the other side. "He can't wake
up now…" she muttered through gritted teeth. "If we interrupt the process, he'll die!"
Choso, at his side, clenched his fists covered in concentrated blood, creating crimson blades that vibrated in the air.
His gaze was fixed on the slowly approaching intruder.
Kenjaku.
The sorcerer walked calmly, his hair tied in a messy bun, a distorted smile on his face. The contrast between his serenity and the chaos around him made the scene even more terrifying.
"What a moving picture," he said softly. "The protective brother and the magician trying to protect the sleeping hero. It's a shame that all human endeavor is… fleeting."
Choso roared, anger burning in his eyes. "Stay away from him!"
He launched several blood spears in succession, slicing through the air with speed. Kenjaku dodged them with precise, almost lazy movements, as if he were dancing.
"Still the same as always, Choso," Kenjaku said. "Loyal, but blind."
Rin took advantage of the distraction to cast an explosive incantation, which struck the ground at the enemy's feet. A flash of light and fire erupted, sending sparks flying into the night sky. But when the smoke cleared, Kenjaku was still there. Intact.
He looked at the barrier where Yuji rested, the cocoon's aura pulsing like a living heart. "Ah… so that's it. He's trying to break through his own limits. How foolish…" His smile widened.
Choso stood in front of the gate, blood spreading around his body in spikes and chains. "If you want to pass, you'll have to kill me first."
Kenjaku laughed softly, a cold, empty sound. "That was exactly the idea."
The next explosion lit up the entire hill, and the true battle for Yuji's survival finally began.
Behind the trees near the gate, Arturia and Sakura watched the fight in silence, the glow of cursed energy illuminating their faces in the darkness of the night. The air trembled with the impact of the techniques, and each time Choso's blood slammed into Kenjaku's barriers, the ground vibrated beneath his feet.
Arturia maintained a firm stance, her hand on Excalibur's invisible hilt, ready to intervene at any moment. But there was a tension in her eyes; she knew that if she entered combat now, the house would be left vulnerable. "This man… his power is different," she said quietly, her eyes still fixed on Kenjaku. "He manipulates souls, not just magic, but blood as well…"
Sakura, crouched beside her, gripped her own arm tightly. The corrupted energy surrounding Kenjaku made her body tremble, as if something inside her was reacting, an echo of a cursed power she knew well. "Yeah… he's the same kind of monster that corrupted my body years ago," she whispered, anger and fear mingling. "But… he wants Yuji. He won't stop until he gets him."
Arturia glanced at her, noticing the dark glint in her eyes. "Sakura," she said calmly. "Don't let it consume you."
Sakura nodded with difficulty, trying to control the pulse of purple energy emanating from her hand. "I know… but seeing this kind of evil alive… makes me want to destroy him."
Arturia took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her decision. "It's not the right time yet. If we attack now, he'll notice Illya and Hana inside the house."
In the distance, another impact shook the gate, and Choso was thrown against a wall, leaving a trail of blood in the air. Rin still maintained the barrier, but his body trembled with exhaustion, the seals on his hands disintegrating with each spell.
Sakura clenched her fists. "If this continues… Rin will die."
Arturia was silent for a few seconds, carefully watching Kenjaku's movement, who began to slowly walk towards Yuji's barrier. She then spoke, in a serious tone: "If he touches Yuji, we attack. Not before."
Sakura nodded, her eyes burning with determination.
---
Inside the house, Illya watched out the window, her fingers trembling over the communication crystal floating in front of her. "Arturia… Sakura… please, hold on a little longer…"
"
she murmured.
Behind her, in the corner of the room, Hana sat on the floor, surrounded by a protective circle of white light. She appeared calm, but her eyes were open and glowing golden.
"Illya-oneechan…" Hana said, her voice soft but firm. "That man… he's not human, is he?"
Illya turned away, her heart sinking. "No…" she replied. "He's something much worse."
She looked outside again, feeling Choso's spiritual energy weakening, and a shiver ran down her spine. "And if Shirou doesn't arrive soon…" she whispered, clutching the crystal in her hands, "…we'll all be lost."
The battle at the gate intensified, and the fate of the house and Yuji hung in the balance.
Arturia raised her head at the sudden sensation, as if cold fingers had touched the skin of the world. Several presences were approaching, moving cautiously among the shadows of the walls and trees. She murmured a
short warning, and from the darkness emerged, one by one, Shirou, Tachie, and Toji, eyes alert; last, Lancer appeared, quietly, his spear resting on his shoulder, the familiar smile of one who lives for battle.
They arrived quietly, like those who prefer the silence before the storm. Arturia made an almost imperceptible gesture, gathering them into a semicircle, and explained in a low but firm voice the situation: the cocoon Yuji had
formed, Kenjaku's direct attack, and the need to hold their position until the isolation ended. Each word was measured, nothing lost in the wind.
Shirou listened with a tense expression, calculating a thousand possibilities in his head; Tachie closed her eyes for a second, remembering her own limits; Toji crossed his arms, more interested in the outcome than in the words; Lancer remained silent, the spear slowly slipping through his hand, eyes fixed on the house where the dome pulsed.
When Arturia finished, there was a moment of weight, the kind of silence that falls before big moves. Then Lancer smiled, a short curve that held anger and respect at the same time.
"Very well," he said, his voice sharp. "If I'm to stay until dawn and face Kenjaku and Gilgamesh afterward, I won't disappear into the hands of fate. I'll make a contract with the girl."
The comment echoed between them. Tachie arched an eyebrow; Shirou looked at Lancer with a mixture of surprise and relief; Toji just snorted, but his eyes grew sharper; Arturia allowed, for the first time all night, a hint of relaxation to round the corners of her lips.
Sakura, who was sitting beside the barrier, immersed in a mixture of exhaustion and determination, looked up at the mention of her name. There was a question in that look, and also a ready acceptance. She rose carefully, approached Lancer fearlessly, looking him in the eye. His presence commanded respect, but not oppression; there was a recognition in her of what a fighter raised by anger and honor could offer.
Rin approached, her hands already beginning to form seals; she knew that a pact with a Servant, even one who had agreed to fight for revenge, required caution. "I will seal the contract," she announced, already preparing the sigils. "We need to formalize this properly, before any bonds are prematurely broken."
Choso, standing outside, watched everything with his posture unmoving. He said nothing, but the blood around his hands vibrated with an alert rhythm; to him, each movement was another line in the protective wall he maintained around Yuji's cocoon.
Lancer approached Sakura with a solemn stride, turning his spear to thrust the tip into the ground as if blessing the moment. His face, behind the rhetorical skepticism, showed a flicker of something resembling respect: it wasn't friendship he offered, it was a blade oath. He spoke softly, words of war and promise: "I am not a servant who bows to empty demands. But I will fight for that which gives me reason to wield my spear. If you want me at your side, I will demand that you fight with everything you have. I do not protect weakness; I transform fury into purpose."
She paused, the gleam in her eyes never so fierce. "I accept the contract."
Rin began the ritual: circles of light, runes traced with precision. Her voice intoned the formulas as if constructing a complex, delicate, and uncompromising shield. Shirou helped by preparing a focus for the affinity, Tachie held the scythe, ready to cut through any interference, Toji maintained the outer guard, and Arturia aligned her presence so that the sacred energy wouldn't clash with Lancer's flame.
Sakura closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and spoke firmly, as if making a promise to herself: "I accept. I will fight by your side," she said, and in her voice there was the resolution of someone who no longer accepts being just a target.
As Rin completed the seals, a connection flickered between Lancer and Sakura: a spark that rose from her hand, snaking up the spear, and encircling her wrists. Lancer, in turn, nodded, a warrior's nod that was tantamount to anoath. The heat of their bond was dry, pure, not delicate, born of steel and sacrifice, not of soft promises.
Choso let out a low sound, somewhere between approval and vigilance. Shirou let out a suppressed sigh, as if weighing the odds and choosing to believe. Toji laughed dismissively, but it was a harmless laugh, an acknowledgment that they now had an extra weapon against the oncoming winds.
Arturia stepped forward, her hand resting on Sakura's shoulder for a brief second, a touch of approval and caution. "Don't use her as a shield to escape from yourself..." she murmured. "Lancer will fight alongside her, but it will be Sakura's courage that will sustain the alliance."
Lancer returned the brusque smile. "Then let it begin. When morning comes, we will never be the same. We will either fight, or we will disappear. And I prefer to fight."
With the pact formalized, the group retreated to better positions: Choso and Rin reinforced the perimeter, Arturia returned to guard the cocoon, Shirou and Tachie organized the defense routes and Toji kept a hard gaze focused on the path where Kenjaku had approached.
Lancer stood next to Sakura, his spear crossed over his back, looking at the house as if he already considered it a battlefield.
The night hadn't gotten any safer, but for the first time in that freezing dawn, there was a glimmer of hope, forged in metal and oath: Lancer would stay. And Sakura, now with a Servant, was no longer a loose piece on the board.
As Choso and Rin retreated from the main line of defense, a tactical retreat to counter the curses surging from their flanks, the wind seemed to shift. Kenjaku's presence, previously diffuse and distant, became palpable, almost like an invisible pressure crushing the air.
Toji was the first to cross the shattered gate, blade in hand, his gaze predatory, cold, and dangerous. Tachie followed close behind, twirling her scythe, her dark cloak swaying like a living shadow. The ground around Yuji's cocoon trembled with the cursed energy seeping from the fissures in the ground.
At the center of it all, Kenjaku waited for them. His body had the relaxed posture of someone who had already anticipated every move. His smile was thin, sharp, the kind of smile that belongs to someone who revels in chaos.
"Ah… the replacements have finally arrived." His voice echoed, sweet and venomous. "The little brother isn't available, so they sent the homeless father and the reaper? What sweet irony."
Toji responded by simply adjusting the grip of his blade. "Less talk, more action."
Tachie advanced first, wind ripping through the air as she swung her scythe in an arc, the blade lit with dark energy. Kenjaku dodged easily, moving his body almost liquidly, and counterattacked, drops of blood beginning to float around him, pulsing like tiny, living hearts.
Suddenly, each droplet stretched into red needles, shooting towards the two.
Tachie used her scythe to deflect several, while Toji jumped, spinning in the air, and slashed the attack with absurd precision.
Kenjaku laughed, a sound of pure pleasure, like an artist admiring his own chaos. "I remember you, Toji Fushiguro… the assassin without cursed energy. What a rare specimen. You know what's most fascinating? Even without a curse, you still behave like a living curse."
Toji landed, his gaze sharp. "And you talk too much for someone who's going to lose his neck."
He lunged forward, his blade sweeping through the air with such speed that the pressure of the blow cracked the ground. Kenjaku raised a barrier of concentrated blood, a pulsing red wall that trembled under the impact. The sound was deafening, steel clashing with blood congealed into pure cursed power.
Tachie took advantage of the opening and appeared behind him, scythe ready to split Kenjaku in half.
But before the blade touched his skin, blood spread from his body like a living cloak, forming tentacles that blocked the blow.
"So impatient…" Kenjaku said, looking away from her. "But I like to see determination. You're the Servant who carries the shadows, right? So nostalgic… you remind me of someone who believed the soul could be purified through sacrifice."
Tachie replied with an icy glare. "I'm not a soul to be purified. I'm a reaper!"
She leaped again, spinning her scythe in a spiral, and her dark aura expanded, creating a whirlwind of energy that pushed Kenjaku back a few steps. Toji seized the opportunity and appeared as a shadow, slashing upward, the cut swift, clean, almost imperceptible.
Kenjaku narrowly dodged the blow, but part of his shoulder was cut off, blood spraying out and instantly transforming into dozens of needles that floated in the air. He snapped his fingers, and the needles shot out again.
Toji and Tachie moved in sync, she created a dark veil with her scythe, deflecting some of the projectiles, while Toji slid between the remaining ones, as if dancing with death.
Kenjaku laughed. "Yes! That's it, Toji! That's what I wanted to see! The man who transcended the realm of curses, and a reaper who carries the essence of the underworld! You are living art!"
"Shut the fuck up." Toji leaped across the ground, and before Kenjaku could react, he appeared behind him and delivered a blow that pierced halfway through his body.
Kenjaku's body dissolved into blood and reappeared a few meters away, already regenerated. "Do you really think you can kill me like that? I am the result of centuries of spiritual evolution. My body is just a tool."
Tachie breathed deeply, sweat dripping down her temples. She exchanged a quick glance with Toji, and without another word, they both advanced together. The ground shook. The darkness of the scythe mingled with the metallic glint of the blade.
Kenjaku spread his arms, and a red circle appeared beneath his feet, vein-like runes glowing. "Then entertain me a little longer. Show me what humans are capable of when faced with something divine."
The air exploded with cursed energy. The surrounding blood took shape, molding itself into grotesque creatures, deformed copies of Choso's brethren, each with empty eyes and thirsty mouths.
The air vibrated with the sound of chaos, the clang of blades, the metallic scrape of Tachie's scythe, the crackle of blood that moved as if it had a will of its own. Toji dodged with predatory precision, cutting through every tendril of blood that tried to ensnare him. But Kenjaku still smiled, serene amidst the devastation, as if nothing could shake his conviction.
Then a whistling sound cut through the air. A blackened arrow of cursed energy passed through Toji's shoulder and exploded against the ground, sending Kenjaku's body reeling back for the first time. time.
From the top of the entrance ruins, Shirou, Sakura, and Lancer descended together. Shirou held his reforged projection blade, his eyes fixed on the enemy. Sakura, her bow made of pulses of dark energy, was already nocking another arrow, and Lancer twirled his red spear, ready for battle.
"It seems we've arrived at the right time..." Shirou said, his tone firm, determined.
"You delayed the show, boy," Toji growled, still standing, his body covered in small cuts.
"Then let's cut it short." Shirou stepped forward. "Kenjaku… it's over for you."
Kenjaku spread his arms, the blood still pulsing around his body. "Is it over?" He laughed, a low, husky laugh, filled with something that sounded almost like... inverted compassion.
"Do you really believe you can 'end' me? That destroying this body means the end?"
Sakura drew the bowstring, and the air around her distorted. Her arrow was wreathed in black fragments, pulsing with pure cursed energy, the fusion of her power with the influence of her time trapped within the Grail.
"I don't care if you die or not." Her voice was shaking, but her eyes were cold. "I just want this to end."
She fired. The arrow tore through the field, streaking through the air like thunder, but Kenjaku merely raised a hand and stopped it inches from his face, the blood solidifying into a translucent shield.
"Admirable…" he murmured. "You are all driven by hope. But hope is just the pretty shell of despair."
Lancer lunged forward like lightning, Gáe Bolg's spear streaking through the air. Kenjaku dodged at the last second, but the spearhead sliced through part of his face, leaving a line of blood that evaporated into steam.
Shirou appeared from behind, conjuring two swords, Kanshou and Bakuya, spinning them in sync and striking Kenjaku's side, the impact raising a wave of golden energy.
Tachie approached, her black cloak fluttering. "Now, together!" she shouted.
Sakura nocked another arrow. Lancer threw his spear in a spiral. Toji ran straight ahead, the air hissing around him. Energies intersected: sound, light, blood, and darkness, all colliding in a single explosion that split the ground open.
When the dust settled, Kenjaku was kneeling, his body partially mangled, half of his face exposed, showing wires and nerves pulsing. Still… he laughed.
"You think…" he coughed up blood, the sound mixed with laughter "…that it matters? Even if my body is destroyed, even if this plan fails… the dream does not die with me."
Shirou approached, swords ready. "What dream?"
Kenjaku looked up. His eyes glowed an intense, almost hypnotic crimson. "Kagami no Yume... the Mirror of Dream. An artifact beyond any world, capable of reflecting not only existence, but consciousness." He laughed, spitting blood. "Even if I perish here, my mind will be transported... to another reality. Another world.
Another body."
Tachie narrowed her eyes, feeling the weight of those words. "So even killing you… wouldn't change anything."
"Exactly." Kenjaku gave a wry smile. "Death is just a pause. I always return."
Toji kicked his body hard, making him fall to the ground. "Yeah... until I find this mirror and break it too."
Kenjaku looked up, his eyes glinting with cruel pleasure. "You can break the mirror, Toji Fushiguro… but you can't break the reflection."
The ground still trembled, the marks of blood and magic scattered like scars across the mansion's entrance. Kenjaku, kneeling and panting, tried to hold his body together, but his cursed threads trembled, each attempt at regeneration failing against the absurd amount of opposing energy around him.
Suddenly, a golden glow tore through the smoke.
Arturia stepped forward with Excalibur in hand, the holy wind swirling around the blade.
Behind her, Rin and Choso appeared, forming a semicircle around the enemy.
Kenjaku looked up, laughing even though he was covered in blood. "Heh… so the whole army came to say goodbye to me?"
Rin pointed a flaming rune directly at him. "No. We've come to ensure that not a single fragment of you remains."
Arturia held her sword horizontally, the wind around her growing like a contained hurricane. "It's over, Kenjaku."
Kenjaku looked at her, still with that empty but serene gaze. "Funny… the 'King' and the 'Demon' fighting side by side. What a beautiful portrait of human irony."
It was then that Choso walked up to him.
Silence filled the field.
Choso's gaze was cold, completely different from the restrained anger from before, it was pure, almost ancestral contempt.
"…Do you know what I feel when I look at you, Kenjaku?" he asked, his voice husky, filled with a deadly calm.
Kenjaku tried to answer, but Choso didn't let him.
"Disgust."
Kenjaku chuckled softly. "Disgust? Of what, exactly? Of what I am… or what I created?"
Choso lowered his face, fists clenched, blood rising around him like a scarlet crown. "Of everything. The way you manipulate lives, erase identities, steal bodies… as if the entire world were just a tool for your whims."
He took another step, the ground turning red beneath his feet. "You may have given birth to me, but you will never be my father. Or anyone else's."
Kenjaku's smile faltered for the first time.
Choso crouched before him, his eyes fixed. "I don't care if your soul or your memories go to another universe."
Kenjaku blinked, confused.
Choso tilted his head, his smile cold. "Because even there, other versions of us will defeat you again."
The silence was absolute. Even the wind seemed to stop for a second.
Kenjaku's body still smoldered within the sealing circle. Rin's runes and Choso's blood still pulsed, but for some reason, Kenjaku hadn't disappeared.
He slowly lifted his face, even with half his flesh melted away, and smiled with that same superior air. "You… think this is the end?"
Arturia kept her sword raised, ready to strike again, but Kenjaku continued, coughing up blood. "The final battle… is not over yet."
Rin narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
Kenjaku tilted his head, a throaty laugh escaping his torn lips. "The true holder of the 'Throne' is still out there…" He looked up at the sky, his eyes filling with a mad, golden light. "Gilgamesh. The king who never accepts the end of anything."
Arturia felt a shiver run through her body, that name brought back an old memory, a presence impossible to ignore.
Choso, however, did not hesitate.
He stepped forward.
His blood began to vibrate, swirling around his arm, compressing into a crimson spear that pulsed like a heart about to burst.
Kenjaku turned his gaze to him, with one last sneer. "So this is how you dismiss me, son…?"
Choso gritted his teeth. "This is for all the bodies you stole… and all the lives you destroyed."
The blood vibrated and —
DRILLED KENJAKU'S HEAD.
The sound was dry, almost muffled. A red jet spread through the air.
Kenjaku tried to open his mouth, but no sound came out. His body fell to his knees, his eyes glazed over, and then he collapsed completely.
Rin took a step back, shocked.
Arturia just watched, silent, her expression unreadable.
The wind died down. The battlefield finally seemed quiet.
But then...
A distorted sound broke the silence, a deep, low echo that made the ground vibrate.
From Kenjaku's dead body, a dark cube began to emerge, floating slowly.
Their faces were covered by dozens, perhaps hundreds of eyes opening and closing, observing everything around them with an indifferent, almost divine gaze.
Rin instinctively recoiled. "What is this...?"
Choso stared, blood still dripping from his hands.
Arturia tightened her grip on the sword, but knew it would be no use.
The cube pulsed once, and all eyes turned to the sky.
Then he flew off, breaking through the clouds and disappearing into space, leaving only a faint light in his wake.
Rin muttered, without taking her eyes off the sky: "…That was the Kagami no Yume. The mirror of dreams…"
Choso was silent for a moment. The blood surrounding him fell in heavy drops to the ground.
He then turned, looking at Kenjaku's inert body. "Now… it's over."
Arturia slowly lowered her sword.
The wind blew again.
And for the first time in a long time, no curse responded.
About that...
The golden hall where Gilgamesh stood gleamed with the brilliance of hundreds of treasures. The walls were adorned with relics from forgotten ages—swords, crowns, and divine artifacts—all vibrating to the sound of his laughter.
Before him, Uraume knelt silently, her face frozen, her hands outstretched.
Upon them rested seven of Sukuna's fingers, each shrouded in a cursed mist and a purple glow that made the air tremble.
Gilgamesh descended a few steps from his throne, his crimson robe dragging on the floor. His golden eyes reflected the curses before him with pure delight. "Heh… finally. The power of the 'King of Curses' in its most primal form." He lifted one finger between two, observing the writhing energy that enveloped it. "A gift worthy even of a king."
Uraume kept his gaze cold, impassive. "Unfortunately… I didn't get the eighth."
Gilgamesh paused, his eyes narrowing. "Hm?"
"The eighth finger was stolen from Kotomine Kirei before I could retrieve it." Uraume's voice sounded like the crack of ice, cold and sharp. "Someone took it from its hiding place and disappeared."
Gilgamesh was silent for a moment, then let out a low, arrogant laugh. "Typical. Those worms always fumble with power they don't understand."
He turned, sitting back on his golden throne.
With a snap of his fingers, the chains of the floating treasure, the Gate of Babylon, opened behind him, revealing ancient cups, jars, and vessels, each made of unidentifiable materials.
Sukuna's seven fingers floated before Gilgamesh, surrounded by a cursed aura that distorted the air.
Uraume watched him with a look of a mixture of admiration and devotion. "Do you intend to consume
them…?"
Gilgamesh crossed his legs and smiled, a mad glint in his eyes. "Naturally. The power of a demon god is only worthy of a king."
He clicked his tongue. "Sukuna… or whatever that being's name was. A king need not worship another. Only consume him."
Uraume lowered his head, but in his eyes was a cold flame of fanaticism. "My master… will be pleased to see that you are the one to inherit his power."
Gilgamesh just laughed. "Hmph. Inherit? No. I will claim this power. Like everything else in this world."
Uraume took a step back, watching his golden eyes turn a mix of gold and scarlet.
"Impressive…" Uraume murmured. "But what about the boy?"
Gilgamesh slowly opened his eyes, a cruel smile forming. "Ah, yes… the vessel."
He stood up, power emanating from him like a divine storm. "If he really carries thirteen fingers, as you say, then it will be a good time before the end of this age."
The golden gates opened behind him, and dozens of ancient weapons emerged, floating around the king.
"Yuji Itadori, is it?" Gilgamesh smiled. "Let him come. The king will judge him… and the world will see what true power is."
Uraume just watched as the icy wind of her aura met the oppressive heat of the king.
In the air, two opposing powers mingled, the ice of Sukuna's servant and the golden fire of humanity's first king.
And so, the real storm was about to begin.
The golden hall began to tremble as the last of Sukuna's seven fingers completely dissolved into Gilgamesh's body.
The cursed aura filled the air, thick, pulsing, almost alive, as if hell itself had opened its eyes.
Uraume, on his knees, watched reverently, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.
The ground was covered in a thin layer of ice, which spread as she muttered, "Finally… I will finally see my master again…"
Gilgamesh stood still for a few seconds, his body hunched over, his veins pulsing red and gold.
Then a deafening roar echoed, not human, but ancient.
Golden rays cut through the ceiling, and the shadows of the temple were swept by an absurd energy.
Uraume looked up, overcome with emotion, her lips trembling. "Master… Sukuna-sama…?"
But the silence that followed was strange.
The wind ceased.
And slowly, Gilgamesh straightened up.
His chest still glowed, and now, red tattooed lines spread across his skin, crossing his neck, face, and arms.
They were Sukuna's marks.
But… nothing more than that.
Uraume blinked, confused. "…Sir? Sukuna-sama…?"
Gilgamesh opened his eyes. The golden irises blazed, and the smile that played across his lips was the same as always: arrogant, cynical, domineering. "Hahahaha… so that was it?"
The sound of her laughter echoed throughout the room, vibrating off the walls.
He looked down at his hands, examining the red marks as if they were mere ornaments. "Seven cursed fingers, the power of a cursed 'king'… and yet, all I have left are tattoos? How disappointing."
Uraume stood up, the ice beneath her feet cracking. "This… this isn't possible! Sukuna's power should be fully manifested! His body is the ideal vessel…"
Gilgamesh slowly turned his face towards her, and the look he gave her was cutting.
"Did you really think you could use me, you little traitor?"
Uraume shuddered. "What…?"
He took a step forward, the sound of metal echoing as the gates of the divine treasury opened behind him.
Dozens of blades began to float, glowing with energy. "I realized it from the beginning. You didn't revere me… you revered that damned Sukuna." Gilgamesh lifted his chin. "You used your flattery to try to recreate your master within me."
His smile widened, savage. "But I'm not a vessel. I'm a king. Nothing dominates me."
Uraume was breathing heavily, the air turning frigid around her, forming ice crystals on the ground. "So… you knew all along?"
"Naturally." Gilgamesh crossed his arms, a sadistic glint in his eyes. "It was amusing to see how far his naiveté would go.
He pointed to his chest, where Sukuna's marks glowed. "This power is mine now.
Not even Sukuna would be reborn in me without my permission.
Uraume bit her lip, her expression for the first time wavering between frustration and fear. "So you… intend to use his power?"
"Use?" Gilgamesh laughed. "Enhance it.
The cursed energy swirled around his body, mixed with the divine golden light.
The air became so heavy that the ground cracked." He raised his hand, and a golden spear appeared.
In an almost imperceptible movement, Gilgamesh disappeared from where he was.
The sound of air being cut came an instant later, a bang, a sharp impact, and Uraume's body was thrown backward as if she had been hit by a cannon.
She crashed through a wall of ice she had created, falling through debris and dust. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, and her eyes flickered between shock and anger.
Gilgamesh appeared just ahead, his hands in his pockets, as if nothing had happened.
"Pathetic," he said, looking down at her. "I thought the King of Curses' devotee would be tougher than that."
Uraume tried to stand, ice forming reflexively around her feet, but one look from Gilgamesh was all it took for the chill to dissipate like smoke. "Don't you dare use ice in front of me again. I am not a toy to carry the legacy of a dead man."
The clang of the treasury gates echoed again, and several golden blades whirled behind him, each shining with an almost divine force. He made them hover, simply to display his power; there was no need to attack again.
"Now listen, priestess of a ghost." Gilgamesh's voice echoed through the temple, steady, almost divine. "I've had enough fun with this farce. But I've decided to make it interesting."
He took a step forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet. "Tell your new 'companions'—the cursed heir, the false king, the soulless demon, and the worthless mage spawn—that the true ruler will give them a chance.
Uraume looked up, confused. "What… what do you mean by that?"
Gilgamesh's smile was arrogant, cruel, as bright as gold. "Fifteen days." He held up a finger, and the light around him grew brighter. "Fifteen days until the final battle. Let them use this time well… to pray, to bleed, or to kneel before their illusions of victory."
The wind blew hard as he turned his back. Its power was so great that the walls began to crumble. "And if any of them try to hide…" he added, glancing over his shoulder, "I'll go after them myself."
Uraume gritted her teeth. She knew she wouldn't stand a chance if she tried to fight again.
The cold emanating from her body condensed, and she used it to teleport into the midst of an ice storm, disappearing before he could change his mind.
When silence returned, Gilgamesh stood in the center of the destroyed temple, looking up at the night sky.
Sukuna's red features shone all over his body, blending with his golden aura, an impossible fusion of royalty and curse.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Fifteen days…" he murmured. "May they use this time well. In the end, everyone will see… that there is only room for one king in this world."
And with that, the King of Heroes disappeared in a golden beam, leaving behind only the echo of his arrogant laughter and the chill lingering fear that had spread throughout Fuyuki.
The sound of cold wind carried through the courtyard of the house as everyone stood guard. Rin, Toji, Tachie, Shirou, Arturia, Sakura, and Choso maintained their positions, forming a protective circle. The shadows of the trees swayed in the moonlight, and the air was heavy, a silent warning that something was approaching.
The first to notice was Arturia, who raised her sword and stepped forward. "Get ready…" she murmured, her eyes alert.
The ground froze in a matter of seconds, the air turned white and the cold took over the room.
Uraume emerged from the mist, kneeling, breathing heavily. Her body still bore the wounds from her confrontation with Gilgamesh.
Toji immediately raised his gun.
"Wait."
Uraume looked up, her face pale and her eyes tired. She looked… different. There was no longer that gleam of arrogance, only a deep regret.
"I didn't come to fight." His voice was weak, almost a whisper. "I… made a mistake. I thought my master still existed, that… there was something of him in that man. But what I saw… is just a monster using Sukuna's name."
Everyone remained silent. The cold around them slowly subsided.
Rin exchanged a look with Choso, suspicious. "And why should we believe you?"
Uraume looked away. "Because I've served him for centuries… and I know when the curse we follow has become something worse than any hell."
Arturia stepped closer, her aura intense and pure. "Are you saying you want to redeem yourself?"
Uraume nodded, still on her knees. "I want to fight… alongside you. Not for Sukuna, nor for the past. But to stop that man from destroying the world he so despises."
A silence fell. Toji grumbled. "Tch… this smells like trouble."
Rin crossed her arms. "This is crazy. She tried to kill us before."
But then Choso stepped forward. He stared at Uraume silently, remembering all he had lost—his brothers, his humanity, and how many times he himself had been consumed by hatred.
"…We all make mistakes," he said finally. "You believed in someone who only knew how to deceive. I believed in someone like that once too."
Uraume looked at him in surprise, not knowing what to answer.
Choso lowered his head slightly. "If you want to fight, then fight on our side. But know this… if you betray us again,
I will finish you off myself."
Uraume smiled, tired but sincere. "Fair enough."
The ice on the patio began to melt completely. The cold disappeared, giving way to a slight warmth coming from the house's lights.
Arturia put away her sword, Shirou took a deep breath, and even Rin relaxed her shoulders a little.
And for the first time since the beginning of the Holy Grail War, the entire group seemed united… even if by a thin thread of hope.
The wood of the door creaked slowly, a sound that cut through the heavy silence of the courtyard. Everyone turned instinctively, and the air seemed to grow denser, as if the very space around them was vibrating.
Yuji Itadori stepped through the doorway, the gloom of the house partially swallowing him, and when he took the first step outside, the moonlight revealed something impossible.
His shoulders were broader, his skin marked with black lines that spread like veins of living curse. And below his normal arms, two new arms emerged, muscular and perfectly synchronized with the others, as if they had always been there.
The entire group instinctively took a step back.
"Yuji...?" Rin murmured, her voice trembling.
But he didn't answer. The air around him wavered as if about to explode, pure cursed energy, unstable, uncontainable. His four arms moved naturally, one clenching and unclenching his hand, another wiping a small trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.
Arturia instinctively stepped forward, her golden eyes reflecting the power emanating from Yuji. "Yuji... what happened to you?"
Yuji slowly looked up, and for an instant, everyone could feel it.
The presence.
That crushing, heavy, familiar pressure, something ancestral, terrible and inevitable.
But Yuji's gaze was still the same. Determined, human.
"I... managed to control it..." he said, his voice hoarse, low but firm. "I managed to balance Sukuna's energy within me..."
These arms four arms… are the result.
End of chapter 26