"Your assistant is experienced with firearms, but she never expected a Magus to use something as 'unorthodox' as a technological bomb, did she?"
By combining ancient magecraft with modern tech, Kiritsugu Emiya had made himself a legend among "Magus Killers." But Kirei Kotomine was a quick student. He had realized that occasional use of so-called technological advancements could provide a decisive, unexpected edge.
Kirei had set this trap with surgical precision, using Irisviel as the ultimate bait.
"You really are a man who must be eliminated," Kiritsugu said, his voice heavy with a suppressed, agonizing pain. He forced the thoughts of Maiya and Irisviel's fates into a cold, locked compartment of his mind.
Survival and victory were the only things that mattered now.
Saber's scabbard had been stolen, and while its exact location was unknown, Kirei Kotomine was the most likely bearer. If he had indeed integrated Avalon into his own body, then even fatal injuries would be little more than a temporary inconvenience.
Kiritsugu's estimation of Kirei as a threat reached a new peak. A Magus who combined careful strategic planning with a complete lack of traditional restraint... a man who was, in many ways, a reflection of Kiritsugu himself.
If he didn't end Kirei here, the priest would become an insurmountable wall in the struggle for the Grail.
Assassin is pinned down and cannot intervene, Kiritsugu analyzed. If I can time my Origin Bullet to strike just as Kirei invokes his magic, I can inflict devastating damage. But with the healing power of the scabbard...
He felt a rare moment of uncertainty. Crippling an opponent who could simply heal from the brink of death was futile. He needed to know for certain if Kirei had the scabbard within him.
I have to test his limits.
Holding onto this resolve, Kiritsugu decided to use standard rounds first. If Kirei recovered instantly from a mortal wound, it would confirm the presence of the divine scabbard.
Bang!
...
"Hahaha!! Truly fascinating!"
From his vantage point, Gilgamesh watched the scene unfold with a wide, arrogant grin. Archer found Kirei's rapid transformation—the way he had begun to mirror the methods of the Assassin he commanded—utterly delightful.
The priest who had once claimed to be void of all worldly desire was finally reaching for the very things he had spent a lifetime suppressing. It was the beautiful beginning of a moral collapse.
"It seems some reckless fools are planning to intervene in the proceedings," Gilgamesh remarked, his golden eyes flashing. "Excellent. It is high time the King of Heroes made his grand entrance."
"With a presence of supreme majesty, I shall open the eyes of these mongrels to the true meaning of power."
Without a word or thought to his Master, Tokiomi Tohsaka, Gilgamesh vanished from his position, his golden armor shimmering as he departed to join the fray.
...
In his hidden basement, Tokiomi Tohsaka's face was a mask of frustration. He looked at the Command Spells on his hand, his heart heavy with hesitation. This was far from the first time his Servant had acted without permission.
Every attempt to communicate with the King had ended in a stinging rebuke. Gilgamesh considered him nothing more than a "disappointing and boring subject."
"Fine..." Tokiomi sighed, trying to regain his composure. "As long as he doesn't do anything truly catastrophic, I will let him have his way."
The three Command Spells remained unused, a final insurance policy he prayed he wouldn't need to cash in. Given the support he received from Risei Kotomine, perhaps it was time to move forward with his own endgame.
"Meanwhile, the Matou family remains frustratingly silent..."
His letters had gone unanswered. Tokiomi frowned, unable to read the intentions of the rival family. Kirei had reported that their Servant was a Berserker of unknown identity, but beyond that, the Matous were a black box.
He had proposed an alliance of sorts, a way to test the other factions, but his offer had been met with silence. Zouken Matou was a man of cold calculations; such an "arrogant" dismissal of a peer was unlike him.
"Is there some hidden factor I'm missing?"
Left with no choice, Tokiomi prepared to send his own familiars to investigate the Matou manor personally.
...
Kariya Matou watched as Berserker walked the streets of Fuyuki, feeling a strange sense of familiarity with the bizarre sight.
In modern civilian clothes, the black-armored giant looked like nothing more than an exceptionally tall and enthusiastic "Good Samaritan." He helped elderly women with their groceries, pushed stalled carts, and played with the neighborhood children.
The Servant who had radiated an aura of pure, unadulterated evil in his combat gear was, in his "off" time, a pillar of the community. Despite never speaking a word, he had become incredibly popular in a remarkably short time.
Among a group of children, a bright-eyed, red-haired boy looked up at Berserker with undisguised admiration.
"Hey, Mister? Can I borrow this book for just a little while?" the boy asked excitedly. "I'm almost at the end of the story! I'll finish it tonight and bring it right back to you, I promise!"
He held up a thick, weathered volume titled [Heavensward Memoirs]. It was a collection of tales detailing the life of a legendary hero.
"..."
Berserker nodded slowly, a silent permission.
"Awesome! Thank you!"
The boy beamed as he tucked the book under his arm and ran toward his home.
"Berserker, we should head back," Kariya said, watching the broad-supported figure. "Sakura will be upset if we're late for dinner."
To the children of the neighborhood, this silent man was a hero—cool, omnipotent, and always ready to help.
"Is it really okay to lend that book out?" Kariya asked as they walked back toward the Matou estate. "I thought Sakura was quite fond of it too."
Berserker simply shook his head, a gesture of dismissal. Kariya didn't press the matter further.
When they arrived at the manor, Sakura was already waiting at the gate, her cheeks puffed out in a mock pout.
Kariya braced himself for a lecture on punctuality, but his words died in his throat as Sakura reached into her pocket and pulled out a large, glowing bead. Within the crystal, several stars shone with a brilliant, pulsing light.
Kariya recognized it immediately. A Dragon Ball. The ultimate prize of this war.
"Berserker," Sakura said, her voice surprisingly steady. "I've made my decision. I want to win this war."
"Wh-why, Sakura?" Kariya asked, his voice trembling. "You told me you didn't want any part of this."
"This war will end eventually," she said, looking up at the armored giant. "And when it does... you'll disappear, won't you? I won't let that happen. I have to get the other Dragon Balls."
Hidden behind her innocent facade was a bottomless, focused desire.
"You'll help me, won't you? Berserker?" Sakura asked, a faint, chilling smile crossing her lips.
"..."
Berserker let out a silent sigh, but he didn't refuse. He had answered her original call for help, and if this was what she wanted, he would provide it. His own wish—to restore the lives lost in the Great Calamity that had destroyed his world—was a distant second to her request.
"Go and fight, Berserker!"
The command was given. In an instant, the civilian clothes were gone, replaced by the terrifying, pitch-black armor of the black-clad warrior.
The "Demon King" vanished into the night.