Chapter 89: The End of the Vengeful Demon Wolf Its true name was — Lobo the King of Currumpaw.
In the plains of Currumpaw in New Mexico, there once lived a gray wolf like a hero from legend. He led five fierce wolves, each terrifying in their own right. Among them was the white wolf Blanca — Lobo's mate.
Lobo was brave and a master of battle. His intelligence rivaled that of humans. He easily saw through traps set by humans and dodged bullets effortlessly. No matter how skilled the hunters were, none could catch him.
He reigned as the king of the plateau, hunting cattle from farms at will as his food.
In five years, he had devoured over 2,000 cows.
He even once, purely for revenge, killed 250 sheep in a single night — without eating a single bite.
Eventually, the hunters killed the white wolf Blanca and surrounded her corpse with thousands of steel traps. This lured the grieving Lobo, who, in his sorrow, stepped into the traps and was finally caught.
Even after being gravely injured, the wolf king fought humans to his final breath, dying in despair and agony.
His tale was later rewritten and recorded by the "Father of Animal Stories," Ernest Thompson Seton, in his famous book Wild Animals I Have Known, spreading across the world and making his name known everywhere.
As for the phantasmal spirit riding on the wolf's back — it was Hessian, a ghostly mercenary who died from a cannonball to the head and now wanders Sleepy Hollow as a headless revenant.
The phantasmal spirit of vengeance and hatred fused with the wolf king Lobo, combining into one being. Yet the dominant soul was not Hessian — it was Lobo.
Driven by overwhelming vengeance, he fed on hatred and humanity, growing ever stronger through fury and despair, until at last he became a monster who forgot all else, knowing only revenge.
"Lobo the Wolf King! There are no plains here that you long for, nor the wife you loved. So let me be the one to kill you," declared the silver-haired girl as she stared at the corrupted beast and raised her cursed war banner.
"Only in the dreamlike illusion of death can we Avengers find salvation! — Roar, O my wrath: La Grondement Du Haine!"
A blaze of hatred surged up, trapping the mutated demon wolf within.
The scythe in Shirou's hand changed form, transforming into a radiant spear.
It was the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad — one of the anchors that pinned the outer world and inner world together upon the planet.
A towering pillar of light at the end of the world, a beam that upholds the order of humanity.
Even though its full power was sealed, even a sliver of its might had destructive force equivalent to divine-level magecraft.
Shirou quietly chanted the gravedigger's incantation — a requiem to soothe wandering spirits filled with hatred, granting release to those who had lost their way and could no longer ascend.
"Gray…me… I am the one who buries…" "Gray…for-you… I dig your grave…"
The scythe rapidly absorbed mana from the surrounding space — the Great Source.
Though not equal to the Age of Gods, the magical energy of this mutated world was close to the mystic density of the fifth century, where the King of Knights once lived.
Once the scythe had absorbed enough mana, the connection with Yarde (Kai) was cut off. A mechanical-sounding female voice echoed from the Death God's Scythe:
"Simulated persona terminated. Mana absorption rate has exceeded designated threshold. Beginning release of second-stage seal."
It was like a key unlocking a chest. The mystery held in Shirou's hands revealed the true form hidden beneath the first layer.
Add (Kai) was the first seal placed upon this holy relic — an artificial personality created to prevent the sacred object from leaking its divine mystery into the modern world.
The seal was multilayered. Even at the third stage, it was said that to unleash the lance's full divine power, 13 seals needed to be activated simultaneously.
Even Shirou's own body was likely one of those seals.
Now, the second seal of the relic had been lifted.
The Death Scythe transformed and reshaped into a "spear" that defied the laws of three-dimensional space — a polymer of highly compressed mana, the crystallization of myth itself, proof that the legends of gods were real.
Though it was called a spear, it surpassed all spear classifications. It was a pillar that touched the sky. It was a volcanic eruption, a sun fragmented into spiral-shaped meteors.
[Holy Spear — Anchor Released! Radiant Lance of the Apocalypse, Rhongomyniad!]
The spear, now a spinning pillar of light, shone with unmatched brilliance. Like a spiral fragment of the sun, it vaporized surrounding mana and launched straight at the demon wolf.
Caught in the radiant blast, the wolf let out one final howl — no longer filled with rage and despair, but instead like a long sigh of relief, as if finally set free.
As he dissolved into motes of light, the wolf king Lobo lifted his head to gaze into the distance. Bathed in holy radiance, he remembered the plains of his youth — his snow-white mate, and the joy of running freely with his pack through the forest…
"Thank you, Shirou," Jeanne murmured as she watched the wolf king fade away.
Perhaps seeing herself in him, the straightforward girl fell into a brief moment of sentiment.
"I think that your kindness helped him change, Jeanne," Shirou said gently, walking up and placing a hand on her head.
Heroic Spirits are souls who ascended after death to the Throne — removed from time and no longer affected by life and death.
Their fates, as written in myth and legend, are fixed.
But if Heroic Spirits could have memories, emotions, and experiences like humans, then perhaps they too could grow and change.
At least Shirou didn't believe that the silver-haired girl before him was merely a fleeting dream destined to vanish.
"Even if we have no past, no future — even if we exist only for a brief moment — that is still real.
I met you here, Jeanne. To me, you're the real Jeanne. Not a saint, but my comrade — someone who fought beside me. I'll never forget you for as long as I live," he said sincerely.
"…I see…" Jeanne replied, smiling — this time different from the usual soft laugh. It was more natural, more beautiful — like a proud plum blossom blooming silently in winter, only smiling for those patient enough to wait through the cold.
But almost immediately, the silver-haired girl slapped away Shirou's hand from her head and snapped:
"Don't touch my head, Shirou! Say another word of that sappy nonsense and I'll burn you alive!"
"Shirou, ignore this thick-skinned charging girl," Artoria said dryly. "Her body's built like a steel wall — nothing to worry about."
"My, my, Shirou, even in this world you're quite the popular one. As expected of the one I took a liking to!" Add chimed in. "If it weren't for this 'sealed' state, I'd totally teach you my nine-day diving technique. The last person I taught was Bedivere — and he only had one arm, ahahaha!"
"Hahaha! What a great place this is — I even got to eat well! But let me be clear — I'm not handing over my little sister to anyone!" roared Kai, now back inside his cage-shaped relic form.
Then, in a stern voice, he warned:
"Don't get any ideas!"
"Shut up! My life isn't yours to control!" Artoria yelled back. "As king, I command others — no one tells me what to do!"
She grabbed Shirou's wrist and shook the tiny cage that held Kai like a swing.
"WAAAH! Stop shaking it! Artoriaaa!"