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registry
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Iri's storehouse
Mirror of Kibisis
Reopening
Persimmon cooking
Rider, bicycle, and the jealous Sakura
The King's clothes are a swimsuit (waterfront king: prologue)
Saber lately
Afternoon light
The battle of today's menu
Sakura-san lately
Fuji-nee's persimmon feast
Towards the "splash"
That past is already
Caster's shopping (hobby edition)
Quo Vadis
Lancer
Lancer's Heaven I
Lancer's Heaven II
Lancer's Heaven III
Wabi-sabi-tsumami
Horn (definitely)
Horn (no echo)
Matou residents
After coming back
Return of the wise man
The big three female Servants' super-battle
Sea of memories
Bridge of eternity - right
Warrior's knowledge
Murder at the Twin Mansion
Spearman at work (flower shop edition)
Her holiday villa
For your forgetful self
Murder at the empty mansion
Caster's delivery
Illya strikes back!
Rider and the sandwich
The light on the way home
Great problem at the archery club
How about a training camp?
Crest fever
Sakura and deluxe lunchbox
Sisters' lunch
Educational guidance
The student council chairman is still going strong.
Let's go for lunch!
Fuji-nee's teacher form
Cat-tiger family rampage
Rin and Mitsuzuri on campus
On the verge of a dream
Plushie
Potato sorrow
Marron pie temptation
Rider, reading, and the jealous Sakura
Light-hearted promise
A guest from 5 years back
The trap of high-class ingredients
Sugar candy teatime
This is not Heaven.
Rider's errand, no return
Cleaning alone
Cleaning with everyone
Caster's shopping (good wife edition)
Mimic Tohsaka Lvl 1
Mimic Tohsaka Lvl 2
Mimic Tohsaka Lvl 3
Familiar kid
Angel and a diamond
Visitor
Suspicious pair
Makidera and Rin's pendant
Loitering on the way, main road
Towards the cultural festival
Caster's cooking practice
Dowsing housing
100 views of corpses
Respecting the countless servants
Iron and the second button
Gorgon's cellar
Selected for the King
Pool tickets and a threatening letter
What kind of wedding?
Sakura's memories
Autumn, sky, and a golden taste
Because I groom it twice a week
Mitsuzuri visits
Rin and high tech
Three girls one day
Killing and a fancy bear
Persistent cooking Caster
Successor
Bridge on an ordinary night - left
Two detectives
Mitsuzuri's revival
Himuro Kane's inquiry
Smuggling, fishing boat, round-the-world trip
Rin's magic lesson
Invisible servant
Sakura, Mitsuzuri, and the archery club
Mitsuzuri Minori
Snake princess in the evening sun
Lunch with the track-and-field club
Day of the festival
Praying Fuji-nee
Rider investigates
Adventures of Himuro Kane
A samurai and a wild flower
Dragon trance military history (??)
Pool and the Mystic Eyes seal
Penguin-shaped shaved ice machine
Level up?
Tohsaka exploration party
The secret to finger pressure massage is devotion.
Dreaming cooking Caster
Gossip between the two
Anachro-analog Rin
Border
Adventures around the maid
Sakura and Caster, united edition
Shin-chan and the sea
Blue Panther vs. Black Panther
Big trouble! The ancient legend of the resurrected supreme king inscribed in stone
Big pursuit! Two teachers, an elf, and an apprentice
Flip-flop 2
Flip-flop 3
School maid
On the way home
Crosswords and shogi problems
Training camp, approval
Justice and the kitten
That night: ghost stories
Curse collector
National treasure
A cat, a priest, and a stubborn teacher
Rin at the temple
monster
Ath nGabla
Final night
Good night
Hero of the bath
Sisters' crisis
The future is now
Airmail
Emiya massage
Quartet overture
Stray tiger
Dead Bridge (I)
Dead Bridge (II)
The things that suit Rider
In London
Peace and quiet (I)
Peace and quiet (II)
Peace and quiet (III)
Peace and quiet (1)
Peace and quiet (2)
Peace and quiet (3)
Ritual window
Kagetsu Tohya
Awakening (fake)
Awakening (not yet)
Silver thread
Decisive battle
Temple guardian
End of the four nights
Cruel teacher
One last drink
Execution appreciated
Those that give and take
The shore where he stayed
Choice sake - proof of the wild
Streets at night (patrol)
Streets at night (battle)
Haunted mansion
Tohsaka's advice
Haunted night
Good night - Illya
Good night - winter
No trespassing
Ghost Gossip
Ghost Gossip Glamorous
Hotel Einzbern
Memory
Twilight castle
Not yet
Reopening
A moment in the morning
Rin comes back
Wish.
Sisters' summer (apple)
Sisters' summer (lemon)
Medical medicine
A siblings' game
Waterfront king
Heaven's dress
(31)
unlimited blade works
heaven's feel
Caren I
Caren II
Caren III
Caren IV
Caren V
Caren (?)
Spider ladder
Spiral ladder
Reverse Moon
Holy Grail
Heaven's Feel Backnight 1 (church)
Heaven's Feel Backnight 2 (rooftop)
Heaven's Feel Backnight 3 (Dialogue Möbiuslink)
Heaven's Feel Backnight 3 (out on the town)
Heaven's Feel Backnight 3 (love)
Heaven's Feel Backnight 4 (Endless)
Heaven's Feel Backnight 5 (Void)
Heaven's Feel Backnight 6 (arm)
Heaven's Feel Backnight 6 (church)
Heaven's Feel Backnight 7 (Cradle Hollow)
Chaldea
Accel/Zero Order
Unlimited raise/dead
Let's Tell a Tale of World Salvation
1 - Heaven's Feel Backnight 2 (inside) CW MENTION OF NECROPHILIA AND CANNIBALISM
The woman had parted ways and my lovely Master, lady Bazett, lies sleeping on the sofa.
Or so it appears. She’s dead, actually.
The reason’s obvious. She had her heart pierced by the Servant, Saber, right in front of the church.
Since she’ll start breathing again eventually, there’s no need to bother waking her up or burying her.
All I have to do is guard this place as her Servant.
AVENGER: Well, I’m bored out of my mind. Maybe I’ll screw around with her for a bit…
Honest to my own desires while never heeding the desires of others, that’s me.
I’m the kind of Servant that puts my own pleasure first, so I’d engage Bazett in some good old-fashioned necrophilia.
The usual me would start eating her midway through the deed without thinking, and the room would be a mess before I realized it.
Of course, I’d only do that if she wasn’t my Master.
If she were to wake up while I’m doing her, she’d be a pain in the ass to deal with later.
I’m used to getting hated and killed, but getting cried at? That isn’t love.
Since I have nothing else to do, I start to kill time in a simple way.
Click, click, click.
Click-click, click-click, click-click.
I slide the panels around, matched to the ticking of the clock.
Speeding up the tempo, I become seriously focused on the game.
BAZETT: --, ah--
I heard a sultry breath from the sofa.
Lightly shaking her head, Bazett glares at me as if I were her enemy.
AVENGER: Yo. Wide awake, eh Master? I hope you’re not about to tell me that your memory’s fuzzy again.
BAZETT: ....My memory is clear. I know that you are my Servant, that I am using this mansion as a safe house, as well as that I am a Master. I also remember my memory being uncertain when I awoke here previously.
AVENGER: Glad to see you’re quick on the uptake. Well then, c’mon, let’s go out and join the Holy Grail War already.
BAZETT: ...Wait. My memory before coming to this mansion is vague, but I do remember completely what happened afterwards. This includes being defeated and killed by other Masters.
AVENGER: --Well, well. You can’t even remember what really matters, but you still end up remembering the useless stuff. So, who cares? You’re alive right now, just leave it at that. Don’t worry about the details.
BAZETT: I cannot. Do you really think I can just put up with this absurdity. ...Answer me, Servant. We were defeated. Why are we still alive?
AVENGER: Why? ‘Cause we came back to life. Okay, to be precise, we just went back to the first night.
Bazett shows no signs of surprise.
I guess she must have been thinking over what happened from the moment she woke up.
I gotta admit, that adaptability of hers is a rare talent.
The problem is, she doesn’t realize she has that gift. Nah, more like she just looks down on herself.
Oh well. Not like I’m in any position to criticize her on that front.
BAZETT: ...Oh really. If that’s true, my Servant is quite the big shot.
Revival of the dead requires the use of sorcery: either time travel, control over parallel worlds, or negation of nothingness.
Are you telling me that you are a Heroic Spirit that can work such miracles?
Why are you looking at me like that?
You don’t believe me? No, actually, you’re making fun of me, no doubt about it.
No ma’am! Lowly little old me can’t do something that friggin’ nuts!
AVENGER: Alright, just think of it as an imitation of that. You’ll come back to life even if you die. As long as our contract is still active, you can start over as many times as you want. No matter who you lose to, you can keep starting from scratch, just like you are now.
BAZETT: ...I do not understand the theory behind it, but I do understand that we are being reset… No, we’re in a loop. I have no idea what Noble Phantasm is at work, but I will put that aside. At nighttime, you will be resurrected -- no, that would be incorrect. If you die, you will skip back to the time you were alive in this place. The result is that we escape death because we are still alive.
A type of Noble Phantasm that interferes with or alters destiny? --Yes, that would be an appropriate power for a Heroic Spirit. I see. This would account for the weakness of its owner.
So you couldn’t accept that I was that weak, huh?
Okay, so I did get killed without showing any of my good points. Anyone would get fed up after that.
AVENGER: Yup, that’s right. Feel free to die whenever you feel like it. Oh, one more thing. If you’re going to get killed, try your best to do it at night. I can’t fight unless it’s dark. See, I’m not very energetic during the daytime.
BAZETT: ...I see. So the condition for the loop to take effect is that it must occur in the evening. Yes, that Noble Phantasm would be too powerful without a weakness of some sort.
Boss, you’re getting a few things wrong there.
...Whatever. It all comes down to the same thing.
BAZETT: ...Very well. I will only be active during the night. I will be sleeping here during the day. Therefore, I expect that you will restrain yourself from doing things without my permission.
AVENGER: Gotcha. But the same goes for you, lady. Never go out during the daytime. I’m really weak when there’s light out, and if there’s no Master around to protect me, I’m gonna get killed real fast.
BAZETT: ...I understand. For some reason, it feels as if our positions have been reversed, but I do have a grasp of your abilities. Your combat ability is nil, however, your special abilities are unique. I will do the fighting. You, on the other hand, can use that special Noble Phantasm as support.
AVENGER: Mmmf. I appreciate the offer, but aren’t you taking things a little too far, Master? I mean, I can fight a little. I’ll say flat out that I can’t beat a Servant, but if I really feel like it I could at least buy some ti-
BAZETT: Buy some time with what you showed me in the last fight? I do not expect you to be of any use in battle. You just need to stay around.
AVENGER: Oh… Hey, I’m fine with taking it easy, but you’re never going to win this way. I really don’t think you’re going to be able to separate a Master from a Servant again and again.
When it comes down to it, fighting in the Holy Grail War means beating a Servant.
Without taking down a Servant, you’re not going to be able to kill its Master.
Except there is no way a human being is going to be able to match up to a Servant.
That’s why I’m saying I’ll help her out, even though I really don’t want to bother.
But…
BAZETT: There is no need to separate them. I will defeat the Servant.
Bazett declares this with an unshakable confidence.
AVENGER: --
...Now that’s a surprise.
Here I thought I was immune to these things, but that one just sent a chill down my spine.
BAZETT: I have a more pressing question. You said that we would be revived as long as we were killed during the evening. Is there some sort of cost to this? For example, losing my magic circuits? Or is there a limit to the number of times you may use your Noble Phantasm?
AVENGER: Huh? Nah, there’s no cost. You don’t have to give up a dime. My element is emptiness. As long as there’s nothingness, we’ll keep coming back to life. Just relax and keep going until you’re satisfied.
BAZETT: ...Understood. So, I will not lose as long as my pact with you is in effect.
Right, right. ‘Course, you won’t win, either.
BAZETT: Then, this leaves me with one last problem… No, never mind. I shouldn’t be voicing any discontent with such favorable conditions… What am I thinking…
AVENGER: ? What now? Something else on your mind?
BAZETT: tch… Um, I have a stupid question. It is marvelous to be revived like this after dying. It is an advantage that borders on cheating.
Except, erm… Would it be in any way possible to get rid of that pain I experience while being revived? Even if it’s for the sake of escaping death, whenever I think that I will have to pass through that pain in the future, I get squeamish, or how should I put it…
AVENGER: Say what? Lady, you’re not scared shitless whenever you get revived, are you?
BAZETT: I-I am definitely not…! It feels uncomfortable and eerie, that’s all! ...I do not know whether that place is what people call “hell” or not. What I do know is that it was hideously repulsive. By their nature, the dead are mindless. Those who are deceased normally would not feel any discomfort at all, but to one possessing a mind, that is the foulest pit imaginable.
AVENGER: Oh -- is that so. That’s weird. I don’t feel anything special, though. It’s like, before I realize it, I’m here. Guess it’s just the difference between humans and Servants. But, y’know…
You’re going to have to put up with that much.
Come on, normally you’d be dead.
AVENGER: Umm, hey. You do realize how selfish you’re being, right?
BAZETT: ...I-I know that! I was only saying! If that is the price of resurrection, then I will withstand that level of torture.
AVENGER: Right, right. You’re gonna be going there a lot from now on, so you better get used to being on the receiving end while you still have the time.
BAZETT: Hmph, do you think I will let myself be killed countless times? The next one to be killed will be Servant Saber. I will definitely strike her through the chest, just like she did to me.
AVENGER: That’s my Master. Okay, so, let’s go continue the good fight while you’re still ablaze in enthusiasm.
I stop talking and aim for the door.
Honestly, I don’t give a shit about the Holy Grail War. But, I’m also a sore loser.
I want to find and kill my enemies now, right now.
I’ll kill those bastards that hurt me.
I’ll kill those bastards that didn’t do anything to stop them.
I’ll kill everything, I’ll murder every single living human I see.
If I don’t, I’m not going to be able to keep my insanity.
If I don’t, I won’t be able to keep myself from going sane.
AVENGER: WhAT is iT? Are you not GOinG, Master?
I swallow down my heart as it threatens to escape my chest, and turn back towards Bazett.
Maybe my thirst for blood just now reminded her of something.
Bazett is looking at me the same way as when she accused me of killing the people in that bloody house.
BAZETT: ...So it is true, I am careless. How could I forget to ask the most important question?
Don’t even have to bother wondering why.
You forgot because you didn’t want to remember.
BAZETT: Answer me. Just what Servant are you?
A question filled with hostility.
To that I finally answer -- grinning like a little girl waiting for her sweetheart,
AVENGER: I am Avenger -- the Servant of Vengeance.
A class that shouldn’t exist, its name proclaimed with hatred and joy.
2 - Tips and Chips
The breakfast stuff is done, and while I’m making sure the oily frying pans are sparkling clean, everyone’s relaxing after the meal and playing cards in the living room behind me.
They’ve probably been at it for an hour already.
At first, both Saber and Rider were just learning the rules and it was pretty quiet… But now, far from that, the atmosphere has become completely different.
Rider reaches for the card on the right.
Rider reaches for the card on the left.
Rider draws the one on the left, as if it was only natural.
TAIGA: Gah, she saw right through me!? How, why, by what means!?
There isn’t much to it.
Minor details aside, they’re playing Old Maid. Whenever Fuji-nee makes a face like that, the game definitely isn’t going her way.
TAIGA: Geez, Rider-san’s really just too good. It must be mind reading, no, you must have a partner! For instance, you there, housekeeper! Why are you spending an endless 30 minutes washing that frying pan!?
Fuji-nee points her finger towards the kitchen.
However, Rider’s sitting with her back towards me.
If anything, I could be helping Fuji-nee cheat by watching Rider’s hand.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Yeah, whatever. Stop with the boring talk and enjoy the game. If you keep losing until the end and become the Grand Loser, you could just retreat back to the Fujimura Group.
*squeak* *squeak* I’m rubbing the underside of the pan.
TAIGA: G, guuuuuuuuh…! Grrr. You’re almost my younger brother, what are you saying? No way I’ll be defeated. I’ll keep going until victory is mine! It’s still a game of chance, play it a hundred times and the wins and losses got to even out!
A howl echoes in the distance.
...Compare this and this, repeat a hundred times to determine whichever one is greater, what kind of game is that?
That is, in a game that balances both luck and skill, you can’t judge skill with just one or even ten rounds.
Skill is something that will be revealed over a long period of time, not a single match.
That said, Fuji-nee’s line of thought will destroy her.
Playing a hundred rounds won’t result in a tie, it’ll just make their respective abilities painfully clear.
Well, she seems to be an expert at deceiving herself with something like “I… Let’s see, I guess about three more times would be enough.”
Well, in any case…
Fuji-nee, her face as easy to read as ever, has another card drawn by a very apologetic-looking Sakura, sitting to her side. Needless to say, the game ends with Fuji-nee in the last place.
TAIGA: S-S-Something’s fishy! Could Sakura-chan be a psychic, too? That’s awful, why’d you hide it until now!?
Now that’s just funny.
SAKURA: ...Ahaha. Um, Fujimura-sensei, how about we try something else, instead of Old Maid?
TAIGA: …...For example?
SAKURA: Umm--
She’s probably trying to come up with something where revealing your hand through facial expressions doesn’t matter as much.
Bluff and President are the first ones out.
That said, after a nervous breakdown, going feral and messing up the whole place, the remaining difficulty is explaining the rules to the other two.
SAKURA: Umm… How about Blackjack?
TAIGA: Oh? Very well, I accept your challenge.
SABER: And how do you play that?
Sakura proceeds to explain the rules while pretty much just playing with Fuji-nee.
There are fewer hands than in poker, and the game itself is just a slow accumulation of points, almost like a sword fight.
Even letting your emotions show shouldn’t make you lose, but…
TAIGA: Kyaaah, I’m going bust, going bust! T-This is the gambling bankruptcy stuff that people talk about, isn’t it…!?
Well, it’s true that Blackjack isn’t a great choice for people who don’t know when to stop.
...Alright then.
The Blackjack round started with the score being reset to zero, yet the result is even more prominent than with Old Maid.
SABER: Ace of Spades -- I mean, Blackjack.
That’s right.
Fuji-nee, her hand full of face cards, and Rider, making use of her own intelligence, both have managed to hold on. But in the end, Saber emerged victorious.
It’s frighteningly addictive. Have a score higher than your opponent and you’ll definitely win the round, crazed instinct tells you.
...Gradually, the rules shifted, but basically, Saber ended up facing the other three as the dealer.
...However.
In a fight with Saber, the Great Dragon, all three of them had a weakness.
I guess Sakura and Rider are two of a kind, they both have essentially zero luck. They keep drawing inferior cards, and never quite get enough points to be competitive.
TAIGA: Wahh! I went over 21 again!
It goes without saying that Fuji-nee draws too many cards and destroys herself before she gets a chance to participate.
And yet, come to think of it, she is the only one to sometimes win against Saber.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...She’s up against naturally high luck after all…
And then there’s her wild nature.
Just like a battle between a dragon and a tiger.
TAIGA: Feh… Let’s up the stakes then, Saber-chan! You and me, one-on-one! Total after ten games, the loser gives up dinner’s main dish. What do you say?
SABER: ...Hm. You sure went all out, Taiga. In other words, the person that loses will have to remain hungry, constantly searching for food, is that it?
TAIGA: That’s right. Hehehe, I wonder if it isn’t too much risk for Saber-chan? So, are you brave enough to accept this challenge?
SABER: ...Hm. The certainty of an after-meal game victory has already been sealed in my heart, yet… --Very well. For a challenge of this caliber, I will start playing seriously. My deepest apologises, but the one going on an empty stomach will be you, Taiga.
Saber smiles with confidence.
TAIGA: Huh!? You mean you’ve been taking it easy until now!?
SABER: Well, if I did not, I would have burned a lot of calories.
But the thing is…
No matter who wins, I will likely have to bear the damage.
Whichever one will be gaining weight, and whichever losing, it’s inevitable that the one being starved will eventually revolt. In the end, it will simply come down to one more main dish portion for dinner. As the household treasurer, I will not permit such an outcome.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Alright, that’s it for dangerous games. Tea is ready, it’s time for a break.
Tea and tea cakes in hand, I make my way through.
Feeling the strength of Saber’s assault, Fuji-nee reluctantly stepped down. Thankfully, Saber promptly withdrew, as well.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: So, did Saber dominate the game after all?
SAKURA: Yes… Obliterated without a trace of competition.
We chat while sipping tea.
Wait… Why is everyone but Saber ignoring the teacakes?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Hm? What’s wrong?
SAKURA: Err, to the victor go the spoils.
SABER: I don’t buy that excuse, Sakura. And it was Taiga who started gambling to begin with.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: …...Huh. So it wasn’t just at the end, she was gambling from the start?
RIDER: Yes. She said it will make a difference in the fighting spirit, that it isn’t a true game if you don’t wager something valuable.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...Fuji-nee.
As I glance to my side, she is lying down with her back towards me, totally innocent.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: By the power of a landlord, I declare gambling illegal. It’s communal property, and you aren’t allowed to privatize it. However--
I stop her as she leaps up in joy.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: In order to teach you a lesson, you’re being kicked out for saying stupid things.
TAIGA: H-How could you say that, ▓▓▓▓▓▓! Big Sis did not raise a child to be like this!
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Oh, be quiet. Some teacher you are, coercing people into gambling. Have some regret for your actions.
TAIGA: Waahh, ▓▓▓▓▓▓, you idiot!
Fuji-nee is stomping her feet like a child.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: That’s enough. If you need something in your mouth, have some tea or whatnot and leave already.
To reinforce my point, I take a teacake and put it in front of Saber.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Also, I don’t care about the details, but a promise is a promise. Fuji-nee’s dessert is now Saber’s. ...And if this happens again, make sure to put the brakes on Fuji-nee at that time.
SABER: R-Right, I will watch out from now on. I apologize, I got carried away by gambling without realizing it.
Saber reflects on monopolizing the supply of confectioneries. I wonder if she did regain her calm.
TAIGA: Naive, too naive! Fujimura Raiga pampers Illya-chan like you could not imagine, ▓▓▓▓▓▓! Saber-chan is also at fault! There were other people caught gambling as well! Yep, and that’s why I get a rice cracker.
Munch, munch, down goes the cracker.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ………………
It’s another common outrageous spectacle, but I did establish a new fact today.
In a gambling game of a hundred rounds, it takes merely ten for Saber to establish herself as a master.
3 - Will of the Holy Grail CW GUY KILLING HIS CHILD AND WIFE
The killing continued. With bullets, knives, poisons, explosives; piercing, cleaving, immolating, drowning, crushing.
He never doubted its meaning, not once; he carefully estimated each value. The ones on the lower side of the scales must be saved; the other side must be emptied, so he killed. He kept killing, and killing, and killing.
Yes, that was correct. The many should be saved, and the sacrifices should be recognized. If the joys he protected outweighed the misfortunes, would the world not have moved a little closer to its salvation? Even if innumerable corpses piled at his feet, as long as lives were saved, the ones that were protected were surely priceless.
“—That’s right, Kiritsugu. You are right.” Suddenly, he saw his wife at his side. With a smile filled with gentle kindness, she drew closer to him, standing next to him on the mountain of corpses. “I knew you would come. I believed in you, knowing that you would arrive here eventually.”
“Iri—” It was a nostalgic and lovely face, but something about it that bothered him. Was it the black dress he had never seen before? Part of it; however, he could not help feeling he was overlooking something more important.
That’s right; what happened to Saber? What happened to the remaining three teams of enemies? What happened to Kotomine Kirei? There were far too many questions. Which one should he start with? Helplessly, Kiritsugu asked the question that first came to mind.
“What is this place?”
“This is where your wish will be granted. We are inside the Grail you sought.” Irisviel answered with a welcoming smile. Kiritsugu was lost for words, and looked around him.
A pulsating sea of black mud. Rotten corpses formed sunken mountains here and there. The sky was crimson, like blood. In the descending rain of black mud, a jet-black sun held up the heavens. Winds of curses and resentment blew. If there was a word, for this place, how can it be anything but Hell?
“You’re saying … this is the Holy Grail?”
“That’s right. But fear not, it is still merely a shapeless dream, just waiting to be born.”
“Look, there.” Irisviel pointed to the sky. At the center of this world, there was a swirl of deep black that he originally thought was a sun, a hole that pierced the heavens. A hole filled to the brim with heavy, bottomless darkness, an incredible mass that seemed able to crush all. “That is the Holy Grail. It has yet to obtain a shape, but the vessel is already sufficiently filled. All that is needed now is to announce the prayer. No matter what wish you may ask of it, it will take a form most fitting to realize it. Once it obtains form and shape in this era, it will be able to go outside for the first time.”
“…”
“Please, hurry and give it shape. You are a human fit to define its nature. Kiritsugu, announce your wish to the Grail.”
Kiritsugu wordlessly gazed at that repulsive hole. It could not possibly be tolerated by any human of proper sensibility. How is Irisviel able to smile so calmly? Yes, that smile certainly felt out of place. After all—
“… Who are you?” Stifling his sense of dread with anger, Kiritsugu asked the wife who stood before him. “If the preparations of the Grail are in order, Irisviel should already be lost to me. Just who are you?”
“I am Irisviel. There is no problem in thinking that.”
The muzzle of the magecraft gun in Kiritsugu’s right hand, the Contender he had been grasping tightly the whole time since the battle with Kirei, was now thrust at his opponent.
“Don’t dodge the question. Answer me!”
Before the bloodthirsty muzzle, the woman in the black dress simply smiled with loneliness, seemingly pitying Kiritsugu for such demands.
“… True, I can’t deny that this is a mask. If I don’t put on an existing personality as a shell, we would not be able to comprehend one another. I had to take this form to convey my desire. But the personality of Irisviel which I recorded is unmistakably genuine. The last thing she touched before her extinguishment was me. That is why I inherited her last desire; it is my duty to personify her wish to remain this way.”
With that confession, Kiritsugu understood, not as theory but as instinct. In this place, the inside of the Holy Grail, an existence which would call itself one who is no one could only be—
“—Are you … the will of the Holy Grail?”
“That interpretation is not incorrect.” Irisviel’s form nodded in approval, but Kiritsugu further furrowed his brows in restless bewilderment.
“That’s ridiculous. The Holy Grail can’t be anything more than a colorless force. There’s no way it can have a will.”
“That might be so before. But it’s different now. I have a will, and a desire. The will to be born into this world.”
“That can’t be …” Strange—something was strange. If this was true, would this thing not be the convenient wishing machine that Kiritsugu had sought.
“—If you have a will, answer me this. How does the Holy Grail plan to grant my desire?”
As though she was asked something incredibly strange, Irisviel tilted her head.
“That? Isn’t that something you, Kiritsugu, know better than anyone else?”
“… What did you say?”
“The nature of a human being like you is infinitely close to mine. That is why you can preserve your rationality even after being connected to me. The mind of normal humans would have collapsed the moment they were washed over by that mud.” Irisviel spoke, cheerfully, brightly, as though in celebration. The smile disturbed Kiritsugu’s heart. “The way to save the world? Haven’t you already understood that a long time ago? That is why I, according to what you have built up, will inherit that nature, and achieve what you had prayed for.”
“What are you—talking about?” Kiritsugu could not understand. He did not want to understand, not even if he was mistaken. “Answer me. What is the Holy Grail planning to do? What will it start if it materializes in this era?!”
At this exchange of endless disagreement, Irisviel sighed in resignation, and nodded.
“It can’t be helped. From now on, I will ask from inside you.”
She held her white and graceful palm over Kiritsugu’s eyes, and the world blacked out.
Two ships floated on the ocean. One held three hundred people; the other held two hundred people. There were five hundred crew members and passengers in total, in addition to Emiya Kiritsugu. For this thought experiment, the five hundred and one were set up as the last survivors of the human race.
Emiya Kiritsugu will now take charge of this role-play and address the following propositions. Holes of critical size have opened up in the bilges of both ships at the same time. Only Kiritsugu possessed the skill to repair the ships. In the time it takes to repair one ship, the other will sink.
Now then, which ship will you fix?
“… The one with three hundred aboard, of course.”
After you make that decision, the two hundred aboard the other ship capture you and make this demand: “Fix this ship first!” Now then, what will you do?
“I …” Before he could speak his reply, a Calico submachine gun appeared in Kiritsugu’s hand. Flames savagely spouted from its muzzle, the machine seemingly acting on its own will. Kiritsugu watched it, dumbfounded. A single bullet pierced four people, and all two hundred people were massacred in an instant. That is correct. That is what one would expect from Emiya Kiritsugu. Kiritsugu watched in a daze as the ship sank, carrying its mountain of stacked corpses. He got the feeling that every one of the corpses scattered on the deck had faces that he recognized.
Now then, the surviving three hundred people abandon the damaged ship, split onto two new ships, and continue their voyage. This time, one ship held two hundred people; the other held one hundred people. Once again, holes open up in the bilges of both ships at the same time.
“Hold it …”
The one hundred aboard the smaller ship abduct you, and coerce you to fix their ship first. Now then, what will you do?
“But … that’s …”
With the flash of a naked sword, and a bomb burst, one hundred people disappeared into watery graves. That was the way of Emiya Kiritsugu. The slaughter was accomplished according to precedents he had set in the past. That is correct.
“That’s … that’s ridiculous!” What had been correct about this?
Two hundred people survived. Three hundred people died for them— that was the complete opposite of the scale’s balance needle. No, the calculation was not incorrect. You certainly chose to save the many and sacrifice the few. Now, on to the next quest. Indifferent to Kiritsugu’s protests, the gamemaster continued.
A hundred and twenty were balanced against eighty on the scales. Kiritsugu killed every single one of the eighty.
Next, it was eighty against forty. The Magus Killer ascertained the death throes of the forty. He remembered every face. They were the ones who had been killed by his hands in the past.
Sixty against twenty—
Twenty-five against fifteen—
The choices continued. The sacrifices continued. The mountain of corpses grew.
“This … is what you wanted to show me?” Even as Kiritsugu recalled his nausea at the aim of this vile game, he listened intently to the thing that called itself the will of the Holy Grail.
That’s right. This is your truth, the answer within Emiya Kiritsugu. In other words, the acts that should be carried out by the Holy Grail as a wishing machine.
“No!” Kiritsugu shouted, his hands stained by blood. “I didn’t wish for something like this! I wanted some other method … that’s why I had no choice but to rely on a miracle …”
A method you yourself are not aware of could not possibly be included in your desire. You wished for the salvation of the world; therefore, it can only be realized by the means you are aware of.
“To hell with that! How is … this a miracle?!”
It is a miracle. What you had once aspired for, the deed that you were unable to achieve alone will finally be carried out on a scale unattainable by Man’s own hands. This is nothing short of a miracle.
Five remained. They were all important to Kiritsugu. But he was pressed to choose either the three or the two. Whimpering in despair, he pulled the trigger. The face of Emiya Noritaka was blown away. The gray matter of Natalia Kaminsky was scattered.
“You … you’re going to descend onto the modern era, and … do this to the entire human race? This is the realization of my ideal?!”
That’s right. Your desire is a suitable form for the Holy Grail. Emiya Kiritsugu, you truly are suited to bear ▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓▓▓▓.
Three remained. Will he save the two, or choose the one? He grasped the hilt of his knife with shaking hands. His tears had already run dry. With ghostly, empty eyes, Kiritsugu tore Hisau Maiya’s body apart. Again, and again, he swung the knife down.
And now, only two who survived in the world. Two equal values which did not need weighing on the scales, which could not be measured—the last hope he protected to the end, and exchanged with the lives of four hundred and ninty-eight people. Everything now accomplished, Kiritsugu, dazed and husk-like, was embraced by the warmth of a hearth.
In a nostalgic, gentle, warm room, smiling gazes were exchanged between the faces of his wife and daughter. This … was the world of tranquility which he sought. There would be no more conflict; no one will have to be hurt. It was a perfect utopia.
“Welcome home, Kiritsugu. You’re finally back!”
Her joyful face beaming, Ilyasviel swung her small arms around her father’s neck. The castle enclosed by clouds in the farthest north was the only place of tranquility. At the end of a bloodstained life, he found a kindness which should not even exist. If this modest child’s room was itself the entirety of the world, there would no longer be a need for discord.
“—See? You understand, don’t you? This is the Holy Grail’s realization of your prayer.” Sharing this moment of utter bliss with her husband, Irisviel smiled.
All that was needed, was to pray for it. His wife could be awakened. His daughter could be brought back. For a nearinfinite amount of prana, it would be a simple miracle. The only thing left was bliss. As the remnants of humanity on this planet of death where everything had perished, the family of three could continue to live in eternal happiness.
“… We, can’t go looking for walnuts anymore …” There was not even a snowy landscape outside the window, but simply a swirling back mud, like the bottom of the sea. At Kiritsugu’s absentminded murmur, Ilyasviel shook her head.
“It’s all right. I’ll be fine as long as Kiritsugu and Mother are together with me.”
Petting and hugging the head of the daughter he frantically loved, Kiritsugu cried surging tears. “Thank you … Daddy loves you too, Ilya. I swear, if nothing else, that is true …”
But the hands moved without faltering, like mechanical contraptions. Against the small chin of his beloved daughter, the Contender’s muzzle was tightly pressed.
“Goodbye, Ilya.”
The head of the little girl staring puzzledly exploded with the sound of a gunshot. On Kiritsugu’s tear-stained cheeks, a piece of meat, entangled with silver hair, landed. Irisviel screamed. Tearing at her eyes, tossing her hair wildly, she cried out in fury, without control.
“Wha—what did you do—?!”
His wife came reaching out to him with the face of a devil, but it was Kiritsugu who pressed down on her instead, entwining his fingers around that small throat.
“The Holy Grail is something that cannot exist …”
No matter what was inside, the personality of Irisviel it wore as a shell was real. The despair and lamentation of her daughter’s murder; the hatred for the husband who killed her own child; they were unmistakably what the real Irisviel would have bore— her genuine emotions. Staring at it, accepting it, Kiritsugu put all his strength into his two hands, and pressed down on the neck of his wife.
“What are … you … why did you … reject the Grail, reject us …? My Ilya … no, why?!”
“—Because I—”
The voice that leaked from his mouth was empty, like a wind blowing from a hollow cave through a crevice. There was no sorrow or anger; it was obvious that there was no longer anything inside Emiya Kiritsugu. He turned his back on the miracle he had pursued, and relinquished even the compensation for that betrayal. There could not be anything inside him now.
“I … will save the world.” The only thing left, persisting to the very end, was those words of his belief. How hollow those ringing words were! Irisviel stared at Kiritsugu as blood congested on her white face. The crimson eyes that always looked at him with nothing but affection and admiration were now stained by bottomless cursing and resentment.
“—Curse you—” The five small fingers, once so graceful, grabbed Kiritsugu’s shoulder. From the five fingers biting into him flowed a black mud.
“Curse you … Emiya Kiritsugu … to pain … to regret until death … I will never, forgive you …!”
“That is fine.” The hatred-stained mud circulated in his veins, flowing into his heart. It drenched the soul of the man who lost everything. Still, Kiritsugu’s fingers did not slacken. Forgetting even the meaning of the tears down his cheeks, he told the woman in the black dress as he continued to strangle her. “That is all right. Like I said—I will bear you.”
In his shaking hands, the woman’s spine snapped and broke. And the landscape was altered once again.
4 - The Third War
A voice reads the words over a deathly silence. In the broadcast, there is a woman with long white hair, standing at the end of a dark red summoning circle, most certainly made of blood. At the centre is a stone tablet - though it's ancient and worn, there is clearly discernible writing in a strange language on it. Over the tablet is a pillar of bright white light that shoots upwards, but there's a slight indication of something wrong: a shadow is beginning to pulsate within it, pluming out like a drop of ink in water. Wherever it starts to swirl out of the pillar, it fades for a moment, as if merely existing takes more strength than it possesses. At the centre, however, it's coalescing more and more, taking on a vaguely humanoid shape.
Though the darkness eventually starts to have enough presence to stretch outward without fading, the light itself seems to be unwilling to let it escape, flickering with something like static that makes it coil back in. This strange push and pull continues for some time, but finally the shape in the middle seems to have enough of a form that gravity pulls it down to the ground. It lands softly on its knees, still without any sound at all, but - even though it has emerged from the shadows, they still seem to cling to it, making it a featureless silhouette only barely recognisable as anything remotely human.
The woman is addressed by someone off screen, sounding like an older man: "What is that? With a catalyst this strong, it should have materialised properly."
Another voice, a younger man: "I'm surprised we managed to summon anything at all. I still can't believe something like this could be a Heroic Spirit."
The first voice, again: "If it is what we wanted, it should be worth the cost. Homunculus, show us your results."
The woman - doll-like in her appearance and movements, red eyes looking as if without any life in them - speaks, voice soft and emotionless. "Announce yourself, my Servant."
The shadowy figure raises its head, apparently looking up at the woman. When it speaks, the voice is strange and distorted, as inhuman as its appearance:
"▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓▓▓▓. Avenger."
The woman doesn't blink, doesn't move in response; in the first place, it doesn't seem like she's meant to be anything at all but the physical labor for the task. From off-screen, the voices speak again, the younger first:
"My god, it really did work..."
"Yes. Not only have we acquired a Servant outside of the seven classes, but the very first Heroic Spirit to bear the name Avenger. This War is ours."
"I'm still unsure if-"
He's cut off by a sudden movement- the shadow is lunging forward, now looking more like some kind of monstrous animal, baring its claws at the speakers. A sharply spoken word in German and a flash of light push it back with magical force long enough for the older man to call out to the woman:
"Don't just stand there - use the Command Spell!"
The woman, who's been watching with her eyes only slightly widened in surprise, raises her hand to show a red mark.
"Avenger. By the power of my Command Spell, I order you: do not disobey me. Now stand down, do not attack these men nor myself."
As she speaks, a part of the red mark disappears from her hand with a flash that seems to push Avenger back even further. It backs away slowly, returning to the circle and taking on a more humanoid form once again. After a moment, when the shock has worn off, the men speak again:
"...Why did that work? Such a general command should be extremely ineffective."
"I am starting to think the mighty ▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓▓▓▓ might not be all that his legend claims. Even so, that aggression should prove useful when channeled in the right direction. Homunculus, take Avenger to his designated quarters. Make sure he stays there. You are dismissed until we have confirmed the beginning of the War."
There's the sound of shuffling as the conversation returns, fading off as the men exit to a different room, and finally, the woman - the homunculus - moves forward, hesitantly approaching Avenger.
"...Come with me." She doesn't appear afraid, as such - perhaps she doesn't know how to express such an emotion.
All signs of hostility now gone, the shadow follows her out of the room, leaving it empty and silent.
What follows is a montage of scenes from the following few days, passing by in a blur. Questions are asked-
"Servant, describe your Noble Phantasm."
"Don't have one."
"Tch. Useless."
Snippets of conversation are overheard-
"-two!?"
"You weren't aware? The Edelfelts always split their headship between two sisters. It's only natural for them to summon two aspects of the same Servant."
A view of a castle, standing incongruously in the middle of a thick forest-
The homunculus woman, sitting quietly and staring off into space-
And then, suddenly, it's the fourth night and the first battle has begun. Avenger faces a small figure wearing a skull mask. He raises his strange, claw-like dagger, but-
It's already over. Before he's had the chance to strike a single blow, without even seeing what's killed him, Avenger fades away into the nothingness he came from.
5 - All the evils of the world
What ‘It’ dreamt of in the shallow slumber – was the endless ‘prayers’, unreasonable and unattainable, that had been entrusted a long time ago.
A beautiful world. A beautiful life. A flawless soul.
Because such longings were too strong, they had to entrust all other evils to one place; that was the wish of the fragile men.
Through answering that ‘prayer’, ‘It’ had once saved a world.
There is no evil apart from me. This is no imperfection apart from me.
I am the only one who should be hated. I am the only one who should be abhorred.
Like thus, ‘It’ saved the world, and let them obtain peace.
Therefore –
‘It’ was not a saint who saved men and aided the world. Without praises, without reverence, without tributes, but only with spurns, only curses, only disdain… before ‘It’ knew it, even its name as a human had been rubbed away, only left with a title of its ‘way of existence’, and finally ‘It’ became a concept that was passed down through the ages.
Until now, all that had already become a dream of memories that had had their full share of time’s baptism.
Just how much time had passed since then?
Right now, ‘It’ was thinking dazedly on top of the bed it slept on peacefully.
It felt like some complicated changes had occurred. That’s right; it was about sixty years ago. Something had happened almost in the blink of an eye.
Because it happened so suddenly, ‘It’ didn’t understand everything completely – when ‘It’ came to, ‘It’ was already at a place like a mother’s warm placenta.
An infinite darkness that sighed in the deepest place beneath the earth.
Back then, it had been a place that had concealed an ‘egg’ with endless possibilities. One day, like a seed, ‘It’ entered and planted its roots into this place. From that day on, that place because the abdominal cavity that nurtured a darkness that didn’t belong to anything, veritably became a uterus with the purpose of fostering ‘It’ into maturity.
Since then, ‘It’ had steadily absorbed the prana that flew in from the leylines in the earth like a baby that obtained nourishment from the mother’s placenta while sleeping in shallow slumber. While ‘It’ grew, ‘It’ waited without being discovered by anyone for the arrival of an opportunity.
Waiting to one day leave this scorching profound darkness, the moment of delivery.
Suddenly, ‘It’ – perked up its ears and listened for the sound coming from near ‘It’.
Just then, someone really did speak.
“…all the evils of this world… it won’t matter… gladly accept it…”
Aaah, someone was calling ‘It’.
Blessing and itself were both called by someone.
Answer him. It must be able to right now.
The prana whirlpool that had swelled long ago to an incomparable size in the darkness gave ‘It’ a concrete form.
The endless ‘prayers’ that had been entrusted to ‘It’ in the distant past should also be able to be fulfilled right now.
An ‘existence’ like something that was prayed upon.
‘Going to do’ all the things that were wished for.
All the pieces of the puzzle had been assembled.
The gears of fate grinded together, and were now turning bravely, accelerating with the day of completion as their goal.
All that’s left – was waiting for the birthing canal to open.
As ‘It’ dreamed in its shallow slumber, ‘It’ emitted cries that will dye the world crimson red…
‘It’ repeated its contractions in the darkness beneath the earth, unknown to anyone else.
6 - One day at the archery club
The sound of rippling wind comes from the practice floor.
Is the archery club holding a holiday practice session?
It’s been a while since I quit, but the sound of a quivering bow string still stops me in my tracks.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...I guess I’ll just watch for a bit…
Although, if a competition is coming up, it’d be best to leave them alone.
At least Fuji-nee or Sakura should be there, so just watching shouldn’t be a problem.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Excuse me. I’m Emiya, third-year. I’ll just be watching--
AYAKO: Oh, it’s Emiya. How nice of you to visit on a day like this.
The one greeting me is the former captain, Mitsuzuri.
And as I look for any other familiar faces--
SAKURA: ……………...
The present captain, Sakura, silently nods in my direction.
She doesn’t run up to me, so I guess she’s busy.
Fuji-nee, the advisor, seems to be absent.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: I just wanted to watch the practice. Can I come in?
AYAKO: Holidays are an odd choice of time for that. Even some of the regular members are absent.
She says that, but the club looks just as full as on a weekday.
The atmosphere is tense, as if everyone is meticulously preparing for a competition.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: You guys are picking up pace, right? I’ll go if I’m a bother.
AYAKO: It’s okay. Our club’s tradition is to not block passage to anyone who enters. Come on in, Emiya.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Alright then-- excuse me.
I take off my shoes and step onto the wooden floor of the archery range.
AYAKO: Here, this way.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Oh, thanks.
Walking along the walls, I sit down in the corner of the waiting room.
AYAKO: You’re okay without a cushion, right?
The club members seem to be aware of my presence, but being preoccupied with practice, do not look at me directly.
AYAKO: So, what are you up to with this weekend visit? What, did your own training start going downhill?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Nah, nothing like that. I just came here on a whim.
AYAKO: Oh? And here I thought you couldn’t take it any longer without your bow and came to pay the piper.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: If that were the case, I wouldn’t have come empty-handed. I still take care of my bow and arrows.
AYAKO: Is that so? Well, I do wish you’d bring them at least once before graduating. The fact that we still have unfinished business between us is what bothers me.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...Ugh. I would like to agree, but I have to say that it’s not in my control to do so.
That is, it’s a question of principle.
Similar to a mental trauma, unable to do what was simple before, I guess.
AYAKO: Good grief, don’t let yourself get rusty to the point of having to start from the basics again. And--
I turn to see what she’s been looking at, still maintaining her bitter smile.
SAKURA: Yamazaki-kun? You are turning the bow as you release, aren’t you?
STUDENT: --Yes.
SAKURA: Yugaeri happens not because of your wrist, but more like this -- Relax your grip and let it happen, don’t turn it by force.
STUDENT: Yes, Captain Matou.
SAKURA: Fujiki-kun, your uchiokoshi is too quick, isn’t it? It should be more like… steam rising up, you see it?
STUDENT: Right, I see.
SAKURA: Owaki-san, you seem to be leaning on it. Relax a bit more. You can practice in front of a mirror later.
STUDENT: Yes, Captain.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: …...Who’d have thought.
Sakura briskly gives out instructions to everyone.
She looks completely different from her usual self.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Hey, Mitsuzuri.
AYAKO: Hm?
I ask quietly, so as to not let others overhear.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Has Sakura always been that resolute?
AYAKO: What did you think she was like?
Asked a question in return, I scratch my chin in thought.
The way she usually is, it’s really hard to imagine her as a captain…
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...I thought that, being under such pressure, she’d try to take on all the problems by herself, fighting them alone fruitlessly, maybe… something like that.
AYAKO: Mmm… Well, she was like that right after she took over.
Mitsuzuri reminisces with a sigh.
AYAKO: I thought that being captain might have been just too much for her, but I guess it all worked out? But I sure had a lot of doubts at first. Although I’ve been helping out while trying not to interfere too much--
Well, my intuition was correct, after all. Matou matured beyond all reckoning, and is now the one true representative of the club.
Mitsuzuri grins, as if boasting about a piece of art she painted herself.
When I first heard that Sakura was about to become the new captain, it took me completely by surprise.
And while I might not get a chance to talk to her, seeing how busy she is, watching her become one fine captain makes me pleasantly surprised.
SAKURA: It’s the seniors’ practice next.
AYAKO: Oh, that’s our turn. Watch and be amazed, Emiya.
Mitsuzuri stands up and heads towards the range.
As I’m thinking to myself that her confidence is very well justified--
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Aah, Sakura.
SAKURA: We greatly appreciate you coming all the way here on a holiday, Emiya-senpai.
She comes to the waiting room and greets me with a deep bow.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: …………………….
My eyes widen.
Sakura here is not the Sakura at home, but rather Captain Sakura of the Archery Club.
SAKURA: ...What is it, Senpai?
I must have sat there dumbfounded for quite a while, as she asks in a quiet voice.
SAKURA: Um, did I say something wrong?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: No, not at all. Your greeting was so courteous, I was completely unprepared for it.
SAKURA: Eh…
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Oh, I’m impressed. The captain’s role really fits you well, Sakura.
SAKURA: Really? Me?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Now that you’re the archery club captain, I, ah…
SAKURA: Yes, Mitsuzuri-senpai helped me out a lot at first. And thanks to that, I was able to hold on and even receive praise from you, Senpai--
MINORI: Captain Matou, I have a request!
As we’re speaking, someone calls Sakura from the range.
That voice… Ah, it’s Mitsuzuri’s little brother. It looks like he’s glaring this way.
SAKURA: I’m sorry, the freshmen are…
▓▓▓▓▓▓: It’s okay. Captain’s duty comes first.
I see Sakura off.
The moment she stands up, her expression changes to that of the club captain.
I return the quiet bow she gives me on the way out.
SAKURA: --Emiya-senpai.
On her way to the makiwara, Sakura looks back.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Yes?
SAKURA: Um, it’s a little difficult to talk here, so… would you mind going home together after practice. If you could stay around for that long, of course…
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Okay. I’ll wait until it’s over, so do your best.
SAKURA: I will. Then I’ll see you later, Senpai--
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ………………
Sakura’s changed a lot.
When she came to our house, she was a girl that always cast her eyes downward and never smiled.
It’s all thanks to Fuji-nee-- that she’s become so bright.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: If I didn’t have Fuji-nee…
I was still just a kid when I took over Kiritsugu’s house, and we used to fight a lot. But above all, it was Fuji-nee who cheered me up the most.
The fact that Sakura was able to become such a fine captain is probably due to Fuji-nee’s influence, after all.
Like a deity of good fortune, it looks like Fuji-nee is someone our house cannot go on without--
TAIGA: Riiiight, hello everyone~!
STUDENTS: Hello, Fujimura-sensei!
TAIGA: So, is it practice to the death today~? Oh my! Even the former members are present. Did you come just for fun, ▓▓▓▓▓▓?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ………………
...She hasn’t changed one bit.
A bundle of light and joy that will shine until the destruction of the world, everyone’s advisor and idol, Fujimura Taiga makes her appearance.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...Hello, Fujimura-sensei. I hope you’ll excuse my presence.
TAIGA: Oh, it’s alright, take your time, Emiya-kun. Sorry we don’t even have tea around to offer you.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: No, it’s competition time, you shouldn’t be…
TAIGA: Hey, can someone bring out some tea~?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...I bet you just want to drink it yourself…
“That’s right,” nods the archery club advisor herself.
...There’s not an inkling of leadership that could set an example for Sakura.
She’s just like the Fuji-nee we know at home.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: …...I’ll have to decline the offer. But before that…
TAIGA: Did you perhaps… come to look at all the cute girls we have, even though you’ve got so many at home~? And perhaps Big Sis herself is your first target!?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: --
Er, I mean…
Maybe, deep down underneath this seemingly careless exterior, there is a strict policy that Sakura managed to scoop out… Could that really be it?
TAIGA: Mmm, mmm. It must be the side effect of having seen me in my kendo uniform when he was a child. That must be why he’s getting excited over girls in hakama now? Right? You definitely are, right? Kya~! Run away~! All freshmen girls, run away~!
SAKURA: Fujimura-sensei!
A thundering voice echoes throughout the range.
TAIGA: Sa… Sakura-chan…
SAKURA: Fujimura-sensei, this is a sacred dojo. Please refrain from such vulgar comments.
TAIGA: Uu… uuuuuuuu……
SAKURA: And please do not forget that you are also bound to hold up the sanctity of this place. Our visitor, Emiya-senpai, may be a former member, but it will look bad in the eyes of other members if you act so casually towards him.
TAIGA: Uu…
--Amazing.
Sakura’s disciplined Fuji-nee into total submission.
SAKURA: I apologize for the trouble our advisor caused you.
Although Sakura helped me out of that mess, I can’t simply -- thank her when she’s this angry.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: I-It happens all the time, so, I don’t really mind?
SAKURA: No, I must apologize to you as a captain, on behalf of the club…
MINORI: Captain Matou! Please!
Mitsuzuri’s brother comes at the most opportune moment to interrupt.
...But… why is he glaring at me?
SAKURA: I’m really sorry.
AYAKO: Thanks, Matou. Please go help out Minori.
Mitsuzuri finally butts in.
Although she is kneeling properly beside us, she still somehow has a careless air about her.
AYAKO: Matou sure took Fujimura-sensei down a notch. That alone makes her a better captain than me.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: You’re unusually complacent against Fuji-nee.
AYAKO: Well, she is a living legend of Homurahara, after all. Her skill is what I respect. I can never match her.
Mitsuzuri takes a stance with an imaginary shinai in her hands.
A side effect of having belonged to a vertical society that valued physical strength above wit for a long time, I guess.
TAIGA: Sakura-chan used to be such a good disciple of mine.
AYAKO: Whoa, Sensei!?
TAIGA: But then she became a captain and revolted against her own mentor overnight! Won’t listen to her Onee-chan anymore, how sad…
Two years ago ▓▓▓▓▓▓ quit, and down went my Archery Club Privatization Plan Number One. And with Sakura-chan this year, everything was lined up perfectly for Plan Number Two. Or so I thought… Now she’s my arch-rival.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: S-So is that why you recommended Sakura?
TAIGA: Thus I hoped to make Mitsuzuri, another influential figure, my guardian in order to protect me from Sakura-chan, see?
AYAKO: B-But even then… I am due to retire soon, and I thought I’d refrain from meddling in club affairs.
TAIGA: Yeah, when Mitsuzuri-san graduates, I’m going to be bullied by Sakura-chan every single day!
AYAKO: See, that’s when I’ll be leaving Minori to you. A shield, a substitute, a sacrifice. Use him however you like.
TAIGA: It’s no good. Mitsuzuri-kun is already one of Sakura-chan’s puppets! Mitsuzuri-san, you’re not the kind of cruel pupil that would just leave her old mentor in times of trouble, right? Right?
AYAKO: Uhh… That’s, well…
▓▓▓▓▓▓: D-Don’t give in, Mitsuzuri!
AYAKO: E-Emiya…
▓▓▓▓▓▓: The archery club’s future is in your hands!
AYAKO: Right, you just need to switch with me until you graduate...!
▓▓▓▓▓▓: I-Is that why you’ve been trying to convince me to rejoin for two years?
AYAKO: N-No, that’s not the only reason… Right?
SAKURA: Fujimura-sensei!
TAIGA: Auuuh!
SAKURA: With a competition upon us, seeing our advisor using up what precious time we have like this-- And you, Mitsuzuri-senpai, just what are you doing in this sacred dojo!?
AYAKO: I didn’t do anything! And Matou, I always told you as a captain to keep the reins tight on our advisor, didn’t I?
SAKURA: Um, that is true…
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Wait a moment, does that really fall under the captain’s responsibilities?
AYAKO: When will you come out of your shell? It’s about time you stopped being a rookie!
SAKURA: Yes, I’m sorry!
TAIGA: All right! Go, go, Ayako-chan!
SAKURA: Stop with that. This all started because of your inappropriate behavior in the first place, Fujimura-sensei!
TAIGA: Eeeek! Sakura-chan’s so scary!
AYAKO: That’s the spirit. You can’t always rely on the seniors.
TAIGA: Help me, Mitsuzuri-san! What kind of a martial artist are you, ignoring the perilous situation your master is in!? How heartless of you!
AYAKO: B-But the traditional spirit of kyudo is selflessness!
SAKURA: Sensei, swaying Mitsuzuri-senpai like that is cowardice!
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Th… This is…
SAKURA: Stop causing trouble for us, Fujimura-sensei!
TAIGA: Don’t leave me all by myself, Mitsuzuri-san!
AYAKO: Free me, Captain Matou!
And so before I knew it, a power relationship not unlike a rock-paper-scissors game had been established.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...Looks like you guys are really busy right now, so I’ll be going.
SAKURA: Y-Yes Senpai. I will see you another time…
AYAKO: Emiyaaa, take Fujimura-sensei with yooou!!!
TAIGA: ▓▓▓▓▓▓, bring me back the kind and caring Sakura-chan~!
SAKURA: Fu-ji-mu-ra-senseeeei!
TAIGA: Uaagh!
SAKURA: Ah, Senpai! Please wait for me by the school gate!
MINORI: Captain Matou! Pleeaasse!
What the hell is wrong with this club…?
7 - Heaven's Feel Backnight 2 (out on the town)
A right straight, that actually made me feel sorry for the enemy, mercilessly crushes the monster’s skull. Hard to believe it came from a human being.
Probably out of revenge for having had ten of their pals killed already, more prey come leaping at her.
The moment right after she punches with her right fist, cursed claws take the opportunity to strike at her seemingly immovable position--
She dodges just by lightly turning her head, while simultaneously driving her right leg into the monster’s head.
Sharp and heavy.
The head is blown off like a ripe tomato.
Not even bothering to visually confirm that, Bazett turns around to face the newcomers arriving from behind, once again intercepting them with lethal timing.
--It’s almost as if she were a spinning-top fitted with a blade.
Responding in every direction, clearing her attackers away… A deadly dance that shows no mercy for its target.
AVENGER: Well, damn. I’m not needed at all.
I was doing pretty well on my own even while watching her in fascination, but while I was slicing up one of these guys, Bazett pulverized around three.
And I mean literally pulverized. With those skinny legs and her fists, she is totally scattering flesh and cutting through bone.
Seriously, I’m impressed. To think human hand-to-hand combat would improve this much.
It seems like there are runes of hardening carved on her fists, legs, knees and toes, but the basic bodywork for that must have been an art perfected for use by “human beings.”
Way different from us when we go berserk, letting instinct take care of the rest.
Bazett’s technique is the legacy of the old days of blood and sweat.
How many years of effort went into being able to use it? I mean, she’s a girl, whoops, a mature grown-up woman.
Weren’t there other things she should have been learning? Guess not.
These monsters are no match for the walking weapon by the name of Bazett.
They’re no better than hapless sheep, a pack of game to be hunted. Homer, stop, stop, they’re already dead.
By the way, what the heck’s a homer?
BAZETT: --I see. So these are the “mysterious things” you spoke of before.
Sighing heavily, Bazett puts away her leather gloves.
Miss Walking Weapon, what the hell? You beat almost 20 monsters to death and all you do at the end is sigh…!?
BAZETT: ...They are most likely a type of familiar. Their level of intelligence is low, and they have no function other than to kill humans. However, they are fitted for use in large numbers. It is evident that there is an 8th magus, whose identity is not yet known to us, that was not picked as a Master… I cannot ignore a magus that would use this sort of familiar to attack people indiscriminately. Do you have any ideas regarding this?
AVENGER: Who, me?
[he thinks about Caren]
AVENGER: Err, I dunno anything about the guy you’re talking about, Master. Well, we’ll run into him eventually, right?
After all, we’ve got plenty of time.
This isn’t going to end regardless of what we do, so we oughta bump into each other one of these days anyway.
BAZETT: ...Very well. Also, I would like to apologize for doubting you earlier. The disturbance in this city was the work of these monsters’ master. You had nothing to do with this.
AVENGER: No problem. I’m used to getting all the bad rap. Besides, we’re all birds of a feather. The only difference is who got around to it first, them or me. These guys are running around killing everything in town, so my job’s been done for me, that’s all.
I like being able to take it easy, but y’know, a job is a job.
Really can’t let other people take it away from me. My whole meaning of life is on the line here. If I go unemployed, I can’t live.
BAZETT: --Hand in your resignation, then. I do not know which Heroic Spirit you are, but as long as you are my Servant, I will not let you drag bystanders into this war.
AVENGER: Look, lady, I haven’t killed anybody today, have I? Like that guy with the food cart before? I just watched him off while drooling, y’know? And I really wanted to munch on some oden and meat too. But I’m an obedient little puppy, doing what my owner says. C’mon, pat me on the head.
BAZETT: That is what you normally should be doing. Why should I praise you for that?
My owner’s being mean.
One of these days you’ll only have yourself to blame when I move on to the rebellious stage.
BAZETT: More importantly, I want you to clarify something. I know what your Noble Phantasm is, but I have yet to hear your true name. I know I may be late in asking this, but what hero are you?
AVENGER: Told you that in the beginning, didn’t I? I think it’s your own fault for not remembering, but-- Ah ha. Your memory’s still fuzzy, huh?
BAZETT: That is -- yes, that is true. There is no point in hiding it any longer. Avenger. I do not remember forming a contract with you. I had assumed that it would recover given enough time, but circumstances proved to be more difficult than I had imagined. I cannot wait forever for my memory to come back.
AVENGER: Okay, so you want me to give you the lowdown again, right away. But look, the stuff I know is what you probably figured out already. You summoned and made a contract with me to be your Servant. Before I could tell what was going on, I was in that mansion, leashed and being bossed around by you. Now, back then I did give you my true name -- well, not that it’s a big deal if anybody hears it.
BAZETT: Not a big deal…? What do you--
AVENGER: See, I don’t have my own name. Don’t have a clue to what my name was when I was alive.
BAZETT: That’s ridiculous…! The fact that you are a Servant makes you a Heroic Spirit! There is no such thing as a hero without a title…!
AVENGER: Yup. That’s why I have a title. I just don’t have a name as a human being. I can tell you the title other people call me by, though. Is that good enough?
BAZETT: ...Of course. When our contract was being formed, I should have heard your name. Thus, I must have judged that I trus… No, I judged that you possess a power suitable for achieving victory in the Holy Grail War. So, what was this name that I have approved?
AVENGER: Angra Mainyu. The name of an old tradition from the middle of nowhere.
Yeah, don’t really need to hide it.
First off, it wasn’t that big of a deal, so I just gave her a straight answer.
BAZETT: Angra Mainyu -- that, that name…
Isn’t the name of a hero.
Or, isn’t fit to be a hero.
It isn’t a name you’d give to a person to begin with.
Yeah, yeah. Your face is just telling me all of the above.
I understand how my dear Master feels. It’s not as if I live up to my namesake.
Angra Mainyu. The name of the most powerful demon in ancient Persia.
The greatest nemesis in Zoroastrianism, embracing all evil, that kept fighting for 9000 years against the god of light, guardian of the good of humanity.
The god of evil, you could say.
The bad part is the friggin huge scale. Overseeing half of the entire world? Give me a break. This name is a bother.
...Honestly, something of a smaller genre, say, the god of desks or pots, would have been a much better fit.
The tale of Zoroastrianism revolves around the discord caused by the two gods of good and evil. It’s the first religion to introduce the duality of angels and demons.
Of course, I’ve never seen an angel in my life and I’m not exactly acquaintances with any demons.
I was just one villager that idolized those teachings.
Apparently, just one good deed was enough for me to get treated like a hero and elevated to Heroic Spirit status after death.
AVENGER: Don’t get the wrong idea. It’s not like I’m the real god himself. My element probably just happened to be close enough to warrant getting the name as a pseudonym, that’s all. My stats are low for a Heroic Spirit and, as you already know, I’m a useless third-rate loser.
BAZETT: I’m well aware of that. I’m beyond needing you to justify it at this stage.
Hahaha. --That stings, Master.
BAZETT: But -- Angra Mainyu -- no, the Servant I summoned should have--
Had a more different, endearing name?
Bazett Fraga McRemitz wonders to herself.
AVENGER: ...Hmm, endearing, huh? What was there some other spirit you wanted to summon? Had a strong, handsome Heroic Spirit in mind, not a bozo like me, eh?
BAZETT: Ah-- N-No, not at…
“Not really,” she adds quietly.
Yeah, you’re being reeaally obvious. Had some other guy on your mind… Okay, so I already knew that, but who would have thought you’d be so picky about your Servants, too!
Tch. Ah, so our relationship was just a compromise. And I was being relatively serious about it too. Ah well, I’m over it.
7 - Heaven's Feel Backnight 2 (out on the town) (cont.)
BAZETT: W-Why are you bringing this up? We are not talking about my taste in men! I was only thinking about the difference between you and another Heroic Spirit.
AVENGER: Now look, that’s the same thing as talking about men. The most important thing when looking for a familiar is the user’s personal tastes, so normally a female Master would summon a hot stud, right? Ah. What, you wanted to summon a woman? …...Now that’s deep stuff. Never woulda guessed that manly suit was for business and pleasure.
BAZETT: I don’t let personal feelings interfere with my work. I made my contract with you because it was the correct cause of action. Feelings towards the other sex are irrelevant to that. ...However, I do admit that I said something misleading. Yes, I did have feelings of attachement to a particular Heroic Spirit.
AVENGER: Yep, keep going. If you’re going to admit that much, just spill it all out. You’ve got nothing to lose, so let’s just lay it all out in the open, shall we? So, Master. Which Heroic Spirit were you going to summon?
BAZETT: …”Going to summon” is not the right phrase. I had no guarantee that I would be able to summon him, and a part of me did not believe he had really existed.
She starts trailing off.
Must be going over some old memories.
The emotional state of the woman standing in front of me is regressing fast, like she’s berating herself.
AVENGER: Now I get it. Can’t summon a hero you don’t believe in. But, you wanted to meet the guy, huh?
BAZETT: ...Perhaps. It is embarrassing, but I am not sure myself.
...When I was a child. I, ah… I had not been interested in anything. I could not understand what others considered “fun.” Often this put my parents at a loss as to what to do with me. ...Then my father told me, “You go through each day as if it was work.” He always apologized to me with sad eyes.
The ones who suffered had only been my parents, probably. Unable to sense the guilt my father held, I wasted my youth as tediously as ever. The majority of my childhood memories are of plain days like that. ...But, there was one thing that enthralled me. I still don’t know why it alone was special. In the study, I discovered a book that could be found anywhere in the country. Reading those old legends always made me sad.
AVENGER: --Old legends, huh? So that’s it.
Someone she didn’t believe in but still wanted to meet.
One of the many phantasms that young children dream of and forget in maturity, tossed away in great number, huh?
BAZETT: ...Yes. It was only when I was in this fairytale that I could become like other children my age. It was the tale of a hero, one that was vivid even to a child. But the story had an ugly ending. It wasn’t a tale that should be celebrated.
...Yes, they all say it was a story of bravery, but I always saw it as something else. Back then, I thought to myself that I wanted to save him. ...I wondered if it really was okay to wish to save him, even though I couldn’t do anything.
AVENGER: ……………………
To be fair, the desire to “save someone” exists in all human beings, that much I can admit.
Heck, I can even feel it myself.
Now, the definition of “saving” is going to be different from person to person. But as long as that desire is just a wish, it’s not something that others can condemn.
The problem here, though…
(Should it be okay to wish to save him?)
Is that the little girl didn’t understand something that obvious.
There’s Bazett, who turned something that anybody can do into a “wish.”
Then there’s the mythical hero, the only one the little girl looked up to.
AVENGER: --Ha.
I take back the “I’m over it.”
Bastard, next time I meet you, you’re dead meat.
AVENGER: You’re not selfish enough. That’s your wish? That’s a pretty cheap thing to use a Holy Grail on.
Wicked laughter.
Honestly, the idea of using one fairy tale against another is damn amusing.
BAZETT: T-That’s my childhood and nothing more. We were talking about which Heroic Spirit I would choose, yes? If I had a catalyst for that particular hero, that’s the one I’d be inclined to summon. That’s all.
AVENGER: Hahaha, but you ended up summoning a bum like me. You’ve got no luck with men, eh!
Cackling again.
Seriously, she definitely looks like she hasn’t gotten any luck with men.
BAZETT: Avenger. My current desire is to secure the Holy Grail and bring it back to the Association. I have no personal wishes to make with the Grail.
AVENGER: Yeah, I know. You aren’t that resourceful.
After all, you can’t make a wish with something that doesn’t exist.
Zero times anything is still zero.
BAZETT: ...It’s your turn, Avenger. I told you, now you tell me. What is your wish.
AVENGER: Huh?
Nuts, she turned the tables on me.
Actually, like my Master, there’s no wish I want to make using the Holy Grail.
Sadly enough, there’s just one thing that I voluntarily engross myself in these days.
AVENGER: My wish? Hmmm, if I had to choose, I’d say that I want to finish a picture.
Heheheh, she’s looking at me like a clueless idiot.
When we get back to our hideout, she’s going to find that puzzle I was working on and yell at me for a more serious answer.
BAZETT: --Wait. Did you feel a strong burst of magical energy just now?
AVENGER: Sorry, don’t have no magical energy detection. But if you want to know where it came from, I just saw it. Something flashed on the roof of that building.
Bazett is quick to react.
She picks Rach off the ground and, throwing it over her shoulder, runs towards the Center Building without so much as asking me to follow.
Obedient as I am, I chase after Bazett.
...However.
It’s still bugging me. Just what is that?
Bazett is carrying some kind of a tube.
I thought that, surely, there’s a weapon inside, but she didn’t take it with her when that last free-for-all happened.
I can’t help but wonder about this funny container when it’s being carried right in front of me.
AVENGER: Hey, what’s that?
BAZETT: …………
Bazett is looking for the back entrance into the building. From what I can tell, she’s pretty tense.
AVENGER: Oh come oooon, tell me. What is it?
I’m being persistent, too.
BAZETT: --*sigh*...
Maybe my sincerity got through to her. Bazett stops moving and shows me the container.
Length of observation: approximately one minute.
After showing it to me,
BAZETT: Well?
AVENGER: Yeah, I get it. There’s a tea set inside, I bet.
BAZETT: ………………………….
Whoops, pissed her off.
Wrinkles forming on her forehead, she reluctantly takes the lid off.
Several balls plop out.
Size-wise, they are about the same as track and field shots, and about the same mass, I’d guess. Looks like it can hold no more than five, but right now there are only three.
I see, I see. It all makes sense now that she’s shown me what’s inside.
To think she was carrying this relic. I tremble in your presence, Bazett Fraga McRemitz.
By the way…
AVENGER: What’re those?
The mystery had only deepened.
BAZETT: I am not going to dignify you with an explanation. But I’ll have you kow that this is not a tea set, at the very least.
She puts the spheres back inside and remounts the cylinder on her back.
So she won’t explain her trump card to someone she can’t trust, I see.
Moving on.
AVENGER: You sure are a strong one. Got enough muscles in those shoulders to support that chest of yours? For somebody not using them at all, they’re friggin huge, y’know?
I tell her the objective truth, as observed with my keen eyes.
Bazett stops dead in her tracks, turning around slowly, like a rusted doll…
BAZETT: --How charming. Your wittiness is occasionally accurate and daring enough to make me want to murder you.
Now this is more like it.
This is how a Master and Servant should be.
The anger she’s radiating could end up with me dead if she figures I’ll revive anyway.
8 - Heaven's Feel Backnight 6 (Angra Mainyu) CW TORTURE, FINGER AND EYE SQUICKS
For a long time, he had been living in happiness.
He was born in a plain, not so wealthy family.
He had parents that were normal and a sister much younger than him. He woke up early in the morning, helping his father in the forest, carrying back the yield of the day to the village.
That world of his was simple. His everyday life didn’t change.
That work had gone on for decades.
His father and his father’s father probably entered the forest and lived under the grace of the mountain the same way. Just like his father and grandfather, he was also going to live a dull and boring life.
There was the restlessness of youth, but he knew that would leave him as the years passed.
A roof to sleep under, enough food not to starve, and the warmth of his neighbors. That was all he could ever ask for.
But why, why did it have to turn out like that?
Villagers were at least entitled to this dull life. It hadn’t been a rich village, but it brimmed with the rightness of being able to live normally and die quietly.
The other villagers weren’t any different from him.
The other villagers thought of him as one of them.
...This vexes him even now.
Nothing had suddenly gone wrong.
There was no mistake anywhere.
The choice that was made had been, undeniably, the will of humanity, including himself.
--That’s why it still vexes him even now.
Had it at least been the will of heaven, he could have cursed god’s cruelty and been done with it.
“--Filthy demon--”
It came without any warning.
As naturally as saying “good morning” to another.
“--First, the eyes--”
Leaving the house, he went towards the woods like always.
He said “hello” to a passing neighbor, but was ignored.
The disaster took place in the middle of the village.
Villagers he had never met surrounded him, and he would never return there again.
“--Hey, save the left one for later--”
The ceremony was performed calmly.
Apparently, he had been the devil himself.
This fact, unknown even to him until now, left the people in grief and disgust. Finally, their anger rose up, and his fate was decided.
“--Damn noisy he is. Should’ve taken care of the throat--”
There was more doubt than fear within him.
Why?
Why do this?
Why did this happen?
Why did it have to be him, of all people?
After all, no matter how hard he thought about it, there wasn’t a trace of a pretext to be found.
...And on top of that, how?
“--Yeah. Just let him breathe, I guess--”
How could they do such a thing?
“--Cut the tendons in his arms and legs. Only the tendons, mind you. His body belongs to everyone in this village, you must leave enough for everyone--”
Several men took care of the ceremony.
Cursed by almost everyone he knew, his arms and legs lost their function even while retaining their shape.
“This is your punishment for not endowing our lives with abundance!” they said, and they meted out appropriate punishment to every part of his body.
“--Cut his tongue off too. As if we’d give him the satisfaction of letting him die--”
Insulted by many of those he knew, he was covered in filth.
“This is what you get for threatening our lives!” they said, and every part of his body rewarded their discontent.
“--Serves you right, you damned demon--!”
That was the end of him as an individual human.
His emotions were destroyed by the pain of losing his body.
His rational mind was destroyed from the sorrow of losing his dignity.
(I’ll slaughter you.)
And so…
He had been kneeling for who knows how long.
Not a single moan escaped him.
The branch piercing through his throat had started to rot.
His tongue had been ripped out long ago.
His vocal organs had become inflamed after a night of screaming.
(Why?)
People that knew him, people that didn’t know him, he was abused by everyone alike.
The administering of justice needs no reason.
They, with their righteous anger and morals, hated the demon confined atop the mountain without an ounce of shame.
“The likes of you should not live,” they laughed.
Yet they would not even do him the kindness of killing him.
Hatred begets more hatred.
Going beyond terror and confusion, a hatred was eventually born within him.
But who must this hatred be directed at?
Why?
Why?
Why?
He thought and spoke this question too many times to count.
Even as one of his eyes was crushed, and as his fingers were cut off by some scissor-like tool, the words he managed to squeeze out of his throat were, “Why me?”
None of the villagers would tell him.
Please stop.
Please send me back.
Please save me.
He did not put voice to those wishes he had already given up hope on.
He had accepted it when the last of his fingers and toes, the big toe on his left foot, was cut off by the person who had once been his father.
He had only a single wish left.
Why me? That question alone was his final request, but nobody would tell him.
The moment he realized the answer, he became a real demon.
There was no reason as to why he was a demon.
There was no reason for him to be chosen as the sacrifice.
To begin with, the village elders -- the people in power never even knew him.
Anyone would have been fine.
It was not that he was hated because of his sins.
Neither was he isolated because of his good deeds.
As a completely dull, ordinary person, he was chosen completely by chance.
...Just for the sake of a one-day luxury, people he never met ended the life of a human that they never knew.
That’s all there is to it.
Merely to fulfill the desires of a single night, his life, fostered well for decades, was trampled upon and crushed.
This world is governed by things that are not people.
The moment he realized that, he decided upon the target of his hatred.
--Angra Mainyu (“All the Evil in the World”).
The revered effigy thus became a genuine demon.
An egg that will never hatch.
An anti-hero of this small world that would rid it of all sins.
He had no limbs to struggle in pain.
His limbs were completely severed.
Only his heart was still alive.
No arms, no legs, no dignity left. He had no functions as a human, but his sense of pain alone had yet to fail him.
He took on a countless amount of hatred,
while bringing forth hatred just as infinite.
His collapsed personality gained order in its own broken way.
He was stone.
Never going outside the stone prison, his body wasn’t allowed to move at all.
The eyelid of his remaining left eye was fixed, not allowing it to close.
His dry, cracked eyeball continued to stare at the outside world.
He was just like a stone statue. A stone statue that was conscious.
Without taking a single step, he watched the unchanging scenery for a month, a year, decades.
He could neither avert nor close his eye.
The treatment that would make him forget the fact that he was still alive before the tedium sickened his mind would, in fact, continue until his death.
What frightened him, however, was the fact that this torture, difficult to bear for even a single day, would last for his entire lifetime--
A healthy person’s sanity would surely fall apart in no more than seven days.
What allowed him to endure it, what preserved his soul, was the fact that his sanity had already been broken.
Unchanging scenery wouldn’t break him.
That which spread beneath his eye was his hometown.
The people that called him a demon as they turned him into a real one. The village that the hatred came from. He had an unbroken view of it all.
A repulsive mass of good will, prospering by sacrificing the weak.
He will continue to hate as long as he lives.
This absurdity.
The hidden repulsiveness of mankind.
The overly tolerant world that approved of it.
All that’s left in this stone prison is the hatred that has been scorched in.
Neither the personality nor the body that once belonged to him are in here.
The soul in his physical body was annihilated long ago.
It has already become something else.
Only the hatred born from within him continues to smolder within his body, even to this day--
Who knows how many years passed like that.
To him, having lost his sense of time, the world continued its dizzying transformation even as it stagnated.
The ties he had from back when he was human were no exception.
The people that chose him, the people that took away his legs and arms, the people that were his blood relatives, the people that hated him, the people that he loved.
Their hatred did not last as long as that held by the human they sacrificed.
Those who stole everything from him disappeared from this world before he did.
...Like shooting stars.
The strong, merciless flicker of the ever-coming days burned into his eyeball.
For a long time,
he was left in that sunny spot.
He saw so many lives.
The result of too many meaningless lives.
Consuming time and space, burning up their own lives recklessly, bearing children, amassing riches, yet ending without a trace.
Hollow as they may have been, they were not void.
Although they ended, it wasn’t as though they did not continue.
The wheel of time keeps turning.
Lives wither, then bloom again.
The cycle of prosperity and decay.
The scenery before him kept on spinning.
There were times of destruction, overrun by believers of a different faith.
There were times of expansion, taking in fresh blood.
Throughout it all, he continued to stare with hatred.
Hatred was the only means by which he could connect to it.
--There is evil atop this mountain, breathing malice into all of us.
That became a teaching passed down in the village since old times.
As long as there was hatred, as long as he was hated, he would not die.
The new villagers hated, worshiped, and thanked him as their everyday enemy.
The young man who had become the demon didn’t even exist there anymore.
Hatred that gave birth to nothing.
A blank space that existed to help life advance smoothly, day after day.
An open hole in their everyday life, a dumping ground that received all their overflowing emotions.
What a convenient -- false void that could never become anything.
That village, too, disappeared in a flash.
Neither decaying, nor prospering.
Times changed, people changed, and the mountain village, having fulfilled its role, went back to being an open field.
Everything he hated disappeared without a trace.
His name and body had been lost, and he had even lost sight of his soul.
And in the end, even hatred left him behind.
And yet, he is still connected to this place.
Many years passed.
People perished, the village perished, but even after his own body died, he cannot move from here.
The hatred burned into this place is unchanging and undying.
As long as the world of humans continues on, it will exist forever.
In this empty wasteland.
Forever gazing at the end of the world--
9 - Confrontation CW Decapitation
--I had a feeling…
That by doing this, things could finally begin.
...I am walking up this familiar hill.
Looking up at the sharp moonlight, I’m almost blinded.
It might be because the stars are dark tonight, or maybe the moon just happened to be close.
Below the tranquil empty sky, so close that I could touch it if I stretched my arm out, two silhouettes await our arrival.
SABER: --A Servant--
Saber reacts instantly. She runs out in front to guard me, and raises her invisible sword. I…
BAZETT: We meet again, Saber. --No, I suppose this would be the first time for you.
I stare fixedly at the magus, utterly stunned.
BAZETT: ...Were you the only one to come? I have no idea of your intentions, but dealing with one Servant is all the better for us. I have already defeated the other Servants. No, I shall defeat you and check the king.
SABER: !
Sparks run through Saber’s body.
Her fighting spirit has flared up. She must know that what this magus says is true.
SABER: You… defeated the other Servants?
BAZETT: ...No. You and your Master, as well as the Einzbern Master and her Servant, still remain. Once I defeat you, I will attack the Einzbern castle and obtain the Holy Grail.
Saber’s readiness to fight has changed to open hostility.
She sees the woman before her as nothing but an enemy, and is now waiting for me, standing behind her, to give the order.
--Namely, “destroy our foe.”
But surprise has forced the gears in my head to a standstill.
Forgetting even to breathe, I take in the scene before me.
So there really was another Master we never knew about.
So there really was someone trying to continue this war.
So -- she really was in this city.
She definitely isn’t an illusion.
But it doesn’t make sense for her to not be. This doesn’t add up. There are too many contradictions.
Yes, that’s right, and furthermore -- if that woman really exists, then standing beside her…
AVENGER: ...Finally my turn to shine, huh? Time for a rematch. Let’s give it everything we’ve got, Master.
--there must be, an, eighth Servant.
SABER: Wha-- you, are you… a Servant…?
Saber’s surprise is warranted.
The Servant that appeared isn’t a somebody, but rather a “something.”
Its presence is unnaturally powerful, and its reality is unnaturally lacking.
...Just looking at it is revolting.
To speak to that “thing,” to be together with that “thing,” much less trust in that “thing,” isn’t humanly possible.
BAZETT: Allow us to introduce ourselves. I am the Master dispatched by the Association, Bazzet Fraga McRemitz. And this is my Servant, Avenger.
The faceless, featureless silhouette grins.
Even without a face, the expression of his emotions is clear.
AVENGER: So a mano-a-womano fight it’ll be. Don’t get in the way, Master. I’ve got good chemistry with Saber. I can handle this all on my lonesome without your support, thanks ever so much.
BAZETT: --Very well, but be sure to pull back when the time is right. It is impossible for you to finish off Saber. Give me a good fight. At the very least, get her to the point where she has to use her Noble Phantasm.
A thunk resounds by Bazett’s feet.
She has dropped the container she was carrying,
And a leaden sphere rolls out.
That thing, which I can’t see as being a weapon no matter how I look at it, floats off the ground and into a diagonal orbit around Bazett.
Should we take it for some type of defensive Mystic Code against Servants?
The crystal circles around Bazett as if to protect her, glowing with a dim light.
BAZETT: Let the battle commence. Ready your sword, Saber. This time, my Servant and I will defeat you.
Leaving her Servant to the front line, Bazett steps back.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: --Huh?
That’s not right.
Her combat style isn’t supposed to be like this--
▓▓▓▓▓▓: --Hold on. Saber, that’s…
AVENGER: HAH. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
As if to obliterate the sound of my voice, no, to do exactly that, Avenger rends the air with an exaggerated war cry.
Holding a pair of brutish swords in a reverse grip, he rushes at us.
SABER: …! I’m moving in, ▓▓▓▓▓▓! Stay back…!
Saber responds to the charge of the silhouette.
With no time to stop them, the battle between the two Servants begins.
Saber and Avenger.
The struggle between the two is more like watching a warrior grapple with a beast than the elegant meeting of blades.
The warrior is Saber. The beast is Avenger.
A battle without Noble Phantasms or magic, where pure physical attack and defense will determine the victor.
The short swords Avenger holds are closer to fangs than blades.
They are a pair. The two weapons, so great the variance in their size and shape, press in on Saber.
AVENGER: Sha, haaaaaa--!
A furious, whirling dance of swords, where blows fly like shrapnel.
For every strike of Saber’s sword, Avenger makes three or four. The beast, unable to match her strength, compensates with its speed.
A uniquely bizarre and haunting scene.
Avenger’s speed is far from slow.
His footwork is dizzyingly nimble and quick as he unceasingly swings the pair of fanfs he wields.
As though delirious from fever, he fights, his only purpose to attack.
He’s more than fast enough for her already.
But then comes the next attack, and the next after it, and I see Avenger raise that speed.
AVENGER: Haa, haa, haa, ha--!
His eyes are bloodshot. His breath comes in ragged pants from the lack of oxygen. His body screams that anything more than this will be impossible.
And yet Avenger ignores it all completely and immerses himself in the battle.
Stronger. If she blocks this attack, he has to hit her even stronger.
Faster. If she can throw that strike aside, he has to do it faster.
His body is without limits. No, it’s just that he doesn’t care about the limits.
He is…
...A beast, stricken with a madness that drives him not to heed the exhaustion searing his brain.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: --What?
I rub my eyes.
...That’s this Servant’s style, huh?
...Murderous rage seethes from him like vapor, turning his physical outline vague.
His distorted and inflamed desire to kill becomes a mirage that envelops his entire body.
AVENGER: Ha, ha, ga, hahi, hi, ha--!
The speed at which Avenger’s short swords strike their foe has already increased countlessly, a hundredfold or more, since the battle began.
A ceaseless torrent of swords rains upon his foe. However…
Saber’s blade deflected them, each and every one.
Ordinarily, no human can stand up to a huge carnivore.
But in this case, the tables have been turned.
The human, Saber, is the one with the overwhelming advantage.
No matter how fast Avenger goes, his swords won’t reach Saber in the end.
From the start, the gap between their raw abilities was too wide.
To Avenger, Saber is as impregnable as a man-made fortress.
Even with the excessive speed he wagered his life for, Avenger doesn’t stand a chance against Saber.
AVENGER: GA-- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
The beast roars.
Knowing that he won’t reach her, that he’s no match for her, he continues his charge towards destruction.
Saber remained on the defensive not because she was waiting for Avenger to burn himself out, but to see how he would play his hand.
...There is a purpose to this rampage.
Our enemy is also a Servant. If his basic stats are low, what we need to watch out for is his Noble Phantasm. Knowing that, she was gauging Avenger’s power, but that too is now at an end.
Judging that Avenger has no trump card, Saber begins her counterattack.
...But what interests me is the Master.
She’s monitoring the fight from a distance, just like I am.
She’s an excellent magus.
There are plenty of ways she could be supporting her Servant, so why is she only looking on.
What-- is that sphere floating behind her?
SABER: Ha--!
Saber’s sword flashes.
With one swing of her sword, she will perform the last rites to end this rampage.
And as she brings it down, the malformed blades of his short swords catch it.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...A swordbreaker…!?
Short swords like those are usually used for that purpose.
A weapon designed not to rend, but to stop the blade of the attacker’s weapon.
AVENGER: Ha, you finally took the bait, you moron--!
He laughs derisively at the game that has just entered his trap.
Avenger, whose left dagger halted Saber’s sword, brings its mate up from the right to cut Saber…
AVENGER: --, ha?
The fangs are pulverized, shattering without a trace.
The lefthand sword that held hers,
and the righthand one aiming to slash at her armor,
Saber obliterated them both in the blink of an eye.
SABER: --
Saber’s sword descends.
AVENGER: Wha-- What the hell kind of a bullshit magic burst was that, you bitc--!!?
He jumps back, shrieking in anger, but all too late.
AVENGER: Gi--!
Even after being dealt a mortal wound, the beast sneers.
Her last blow laid him open from his right shoulder to his waist,
a wound that would bring him to the verge of death,
Rendering him completely incapable of further combat…
AVENGER: Gya, gaa, HIA, A--!
VERG
A-- Gi, GI GI, HI HAHAAHAHAHA HA HA HA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA…!!
AVESTA…!
And activating his Noble Phantasm.
SABER: …!? Ha, gu…!?
As she cuts down Avenger, Saber crumples to the ground.
...Like mirrors facing one another.
Saber, without a single visible wound, clutches desperately at her torso just like the fatally wounded Avenger--!?
SABER: This… is a curse-- A primal curse of shared pain!
Saber struggles to stay on her feet.
AVENGER: Hah. Just what I’d expect from a prim and proper li’l Heroic Spirit like you. Not too slow on the uptake, are you? As you’ve surely deduced by now, this here’s the most simple curse in the whole wide world. All it does is take the wound you gave the other guy and throw it right back at ya. I call it “Verg Avesta.” A shitty third-rate Noble Phantasm that can’t do anything until I eat damage.
SABER: Avesta…? Using the Book of Zoroaster as a Noble Phantasm…!?
AVENGER: Oh no no, just a worthless copy, ma’am. ...Eh, it’s not near as great as one of those damage-multiplying scriptures, but I have to admit that it has its advantages. Get what I’m saying, Saber? That wound’s written on your soul. Your standard oh-so-proper healing won’t do a thing to it. Until my wound heals, your pain isn’t going anywhere.
The silhouette snickers.
Bearing his fatal wound, the Servant, his life reduced to the span of a few minutes more, moves away from us.
AVENGER: Then again, thanks to you, I’ve only got a few more minutes left, tops. On the other hand, you’re not going to bite the dust from the likes of this. You’ll be A-OK, so long as you don’t move until after I die… but--
Bazett, who’d been watching the whole time, makes her move.
With a spare efficiency in her movements, she slips both her hands into leather gloves.
AVENGER: --You don’t exactly have the time to stand around catching flies, either. If I were you, Saber, I wouldn’t hold back. My Master’s not the forgiving type where her job is concerned, even towards little kids. ...So once you’re dead, the kid over there is next. You get me?
Strength returns to Saber’s body.
It might have been Avenger’s taunting that did it, or maybe it was because she noticed me trying to run towards her.
SABER: --Do not underestimate me. Do you really believe a wound like this would be enough to stop me, Avenger?
Saber’s sword reveals itself.
Her enemies number only two. The distance between them is sufficient.
From this position, the church will also be mowed down along with them, but she already has confirmed that no people are inside.
SABER: ▓▓▓▓▓▓, I request permission to use my Noble Phantasm--! Please hurry, the enemy Master is making her move…!
The sphere floating behind Bazett is being charged with electricity.
I don’t know what she’s trying to do, but that magus looks like she’s going to attack Saber from over there.
--But, with that?
That’s like using a pebble to attack a tidal wave.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: --Saber, it’s up to you…! Just try to limit the output as much as you can…!
The activation itself happened in an instant.
She has to hold back the output as well, but the deployment of the Noble Phantasm doesn’t even take a second.
Once activated, its speed and power are unrivaled by any other.
In a contest of pure power between Noble Phantasms, only Ea, the Sword of Rupture held by the King of Heroes, can match Saber’s holy blade.
Having been struck directly by that sword, no human magic, whatever the kind, can hope to match it--!
SABER: “EX--
The golden sword she raises above her head.
In the face of its radiance,
BAZETT: “Answerer
The magus let out a breath against her right fist, as if whispering to it.
SABER: --calibur--!”
A sword of light that bisects and vaporizes all it touches.
And after its head start, though it obviously came later…
BAZETT: Fragarach--!”
Bazett Fraga McRemitz’s Noble Phantasm is activated.
The clank of falling iron rings out.
Saber is still standing.
But the landscape around her, which should have been reduced to embers, is still standing as well.
SABER: --
Saber, her sword still held as though she’d just brought it down in a strike, glares savagely at her distant enemy.
...No promised victory meets her eyes.
She stares up in blank amazement at the dark expanse of the empty sky.
A single hole has been opened in her armor.
With all energy focused into it, the smallest possible fatal wound.
A wound no greater in diameter than a pebble, like a cigarette burn on a reel of film.
That was the wound that killed Saber.
BAZETT: kh, it burns--
...My gaze returns to the enemy Master.
The attack has burned her leather gloves away. Grimacing in pain, the magus licks the back of her right hand.
Probably because the sphere was a single-use weapon, it lost its metallic color once fired.
--Fragarach.
The short sword of the war god Lugh, told of in Celtic mythology.
The legend tells of a sword that would launch itself from its sheath without its user having to touch it, and cut down all opposing it before their swords could be drawn.
Saber’s Noble Phantasm, which had struck first, and the sword of light which followed it.
The victory should have been Saber’s.
But Fragarach was fired at a speed even faster than that of Excalibur, and didn’t just defeat Saber, but canceled Excalibur’s light.
...Unfathomable.
Whatever magic theory could craft this miracle is far beyond human understanding.
Only one thing is clear.
That Mystic Code is a match for the Noble Phantasm of a Servant, able to cut them down head-on, the ultimate counter Code--!
Without a single wound, no, with only a single wound, no more than a pinprick… Saber’s body disappears.
...The magus is walking over to me.
I am-- too filled with regret over the loss of Saber to move.
The enemy is right in front of me.
Hoping at least to land one final blow on her before I die, I ball my hand into a fist, and,
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Huh?
The female magus strides right past, as if she has no interest in the likes of me.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Wha--
I turn instinctively.
And there,
AVENGER: Howdy, loser.
the black Servant is standing.
The first slash rips me open at the shoulder. Then the blade swings back to its original position, severing my neck with it.
The sound of something rolling on the ground enters my ears.
The earth’s surface nears me, and then I tumble, rolling and rolling and rolling, over and over again.
AVENGER: Pick a different partner and try again. Next time, try to get someone that knows this lady’s trump card a little better.
The black Servant didn’t speak in mockery. His words were straightforward advice.
It’s as if he’s the one who really wants to kill her.
…...Aaah, I’m blacking out.
The moon is revolving like a skull.
And thus, the error-riddled Holy Grail War,
Without ending, sends out the next runner.
10 - Are you here to pray?
And at the top of the long flight of stone steps--
▓▓▓▓▓▓: G-Good morning.
Below the gate, somebody is busy sweeping.
It wouldn’t be so weird if it were one of the temple monks, but that’s actually Caster, of all people.
Her hood down over her face… This is rather suspicious. What’s up with someone like her suddenly coming out in broad daylight just to sweep the steps?
CASTER: [taking off her hood] Oh my, if it isn’t the boy. What brings you here today?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...So, even you get dragged into cleaning.
It kind of caught me by surprise.
...Well, perhaps it shouldn’t have. As one of the residents, she should clean something, after all.
CASTER: Yes, I thought I’d tidy up the place a bit. Is there a problem?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: While in that outfit… Um, is that all right?
Other stuff-- like her plain clothes she wears into town.
I mean, those won’t seem out of place, and it would look like some random parishioner busy with sweeping.
CASTER: What’s your point?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Oh, nothing… Right, isn’t there a gate keeper? Why not ask him to sweep?
Isn’t Assassin Sasaki Kojirou always standing by the temple gate?
CASTER: …...Haah.
She lets out a theatrical sigh, as if to underscore the point.
CASTER: If only that man had a shred of gallantry, I wouldn’t have to go through all this trouble.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: It seems like he has free time though.
CASTER: Yes, he does. I have told him many times already, at least go sweep the grounds if you have nothing to do.
Good-for-nothing sponger, his only skill is his mouth. “It’s too bad I’m only a spirit with no real body of my own. I would not object if you gave me an order, but would that not be contrary to your style? Adopting physical form and sweeping requires magical energy. Compare that to the amount of magical energy spent when the Master herself is holding the broom. Which is greater? Need I say more?” That’s the crap he keeps telling me! What do you think of that, boy!?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: …………………………
Seems like having minions can be tiring, too.
On top of that, Assassin’s logic is impenetrable.
Nevermind her looks, underneath those robes is a true old-fashioned magus that would make Tohsaka look like a lowly amateur in comparison.
Ever frugal, she wouldn’t use magical energy frivolously. Truly, it’s far too inefficient to make Servants materialize and do grunt work.
CASTER: ...Haah. Perhaps I should have summoned a youngster’s spirit, perceptive and obedient. Just like you, boy--
Caster looks me over from head to toe.
...Whoa, my body temperature dropped for a moment just now.
CASTER: Wouldn’t it be great to have a young guy who can cook, clean, and do laundry as a familiar…?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...Umm… Thanks.
Is she praising me, or is she making fun of the fact that I’m useless as a magus? I think it’s a bit of both.
Caster suddenly looks up at the gate with an unpleasant expression.
CASTER: You listening, Assassin?
ASSASSIN: --Mmhmm.
He’s nowhere in sight, only his voice is present.
CASTER: That’s you we’re talking about. You, the good-for-nothing idler that sleeps all day long, is far less useful than even this boy right here, get my drift?
ASSASSIN: Splendid. Indeed, a swordsman is not one whose services should be needed. Rather, the true samurai should be farming the fields, raising wheat. There is no arguing the fact that this boy is more useful than me.
Kojirou’s tone is as carefree as always, even as Caster’s starting to lose it. It’s hard to tell if those two are really a Master and Servant.
ASSASSIN: Or, perhaps you would like to use a Command Spell?
CASTER: Kuh--
ASSASSIN: Haha, now that’s a nice expression. It’s been a while since I’ve seen such a look on that face of yours -- You have become too happy and relaxed lately, and I find it rather uninteresting.
...Kojirou continues to tease her.
I did think that his words always had thorns in them, but he’s taking it to a whole new level with Caster.
CASTER: Hmph, that’s all right, just keep doing your job as a doorman. The original idea was to demote you to a janitor if you don’t do your work properly.
ASSASSIN: Hahaha. Right, I will devote my whole self to this duty.
Kojirou’s voice stops.
...It’s hard to interject when they’re fighting.
CASTER: Just like that, boy. Do you understand now?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Clear as day… Do you need a hand?
It kind of bothers me, so I asked.
Did I just say something entirely unexpected?
CASTER: ...I had a hunch for a while now, boy. You really can’t tell what’s going on around you, can you? Say you do help me. Now Saber, who’s already treating me like a sworn enemy, will be boiling with rage, no?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Saber won’t get mad if I just help with sweeping. Sweeping the stairs all the way to the bottom would be quite tedious, right? So…
“Do you need help?” I ask.
It’s not like I have anything else to do, and a bit of help isn’t enough to invoke heaven’s wrath upon me.
Caster sighs again.
CASTER: ...That lass sure found herself a handy apprentice.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: That lass… Tohsaka? She sure orders me around.
CASTER: Ah, it’d be best if I refuse. Should Issei find us going at it together, we’re bound to have another quarrel.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: I see, too bad.
CASTER: It just can’t be helped if it’s you, boy. Now had it been Souichirou-sama, it would be a completely different story.
Kuzuki-sensei with a broom -- sweeping silently without a word. Somehow, it’s really easy to imagine.
And with Caster by his side. A wife doing her husband’s bidding, a classic scene.
ASSASSIN: --Heh.
Sarcastic laughter emerges from the top of the gate.
CASTER: Just what are you laughing at, Assassin!?
ASSASSIN: That, exactly that. Souichirou-sama this, Souichirou-sama that, the way you’re enamored with the man almost makes me sick. Good thing I have a bucket handy.
CASTER: Balderdash-- A-And what’s this about being enamored? I will not let you insult Souichirou-sama in this manner!
ASSASSIN: Oh dear, excuse me for being a hooligan who doesn’t know how to serve his Master properly. I haven’t the slightest clue on how to treat the Master of my Master.
CASTER: Get down here, Assassin. I have a few things to tell you this time.
ASSASSIN: Oh, that’s fine with me, but your sweeping is about to stall there, correct?
CASTER: I will leave the part in front of the gate to you. Time is precious and I’m very busy. I still need to mop the floor in the main temple.
ASSASSIN: --Today’s the cleaning day, is it?
Mopping the main temple floor has got to be a pretty big task.
I’ll make sure to catch Issei and suggest that we tackle it together.
CASTER: GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!
ASSASSIN: Don’t be hasty…
Looks like I’m not needed here.
With a slight nod, I pass through the gate and step onto the temple grounds.
11 - Rin at the temple
Actually, I’ve always been impressed by the fact Issei and Kuzuki-sensei climb up and down these stone steps every day.
Well, temple monks are said to be generally good walkers. No wonder, living on top of a mountain would certainly give your legs a good workout.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: …...Huh?
I strain my eyes.
I never thought I’d see this red silhouette here.
RIN: Oh, Emiya-kun. Were you going to visit Issei?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: How about yourself? Sure is brave of you to go inside enemy territory.
We exchange appropriate greetings.
RIN: ? You’re exaggerating. It’s not soccer, and I’m not playing an away game.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: This is Issei’s home base. He may be no match for you otherwise, but here, the crowd would be cheering for him.
The temple is Issei’s family home. Kuzuki-sensei and Caster are there, too.
Caster and Issei may not get along well, but Tohsaka is still their common enemy.
RIN: Entering an enemy magus’ stronghold puts you at an overwhelming disadvantage, it’s practically a death wish-- Yep, I guess my lessons really did have an effect on you.
“Well done!” Tohsaka nods.
RIN: Actually, you might have hit the nail on the head. It’s not just Ryuudou-kun. It seems the rest of his family doesn’t much care for me either. My father and grandfather seem to have had a hard time dealing with the people of this temple, too.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...Well, that’s just how it is, isn’t it?
A magus family remaining on good terms with generation after generation of head monks would be unusual.
RIN: The two of us were like this even before coming to Homurahara. I wonder if this isn’t fate that was decided before we were born.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Then let’s end thi this ominous cycle of destiny with your generation.
I give a warning to Tohsaka, who looks to be getting more serious about her rival. If the Tohsaka vs. Ryuudou feud does become a family affair passed on through generations, she might just try to get a head start now.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Also, it’s way unusual to hear you talk about shrines and temples. Weren’t you a parishioner of the church in Shinto?
RIN: --You’re mistaken, Emiya-kun. Certainly, my fellow senior apprentice under my father was somehow a priest. But the moment I realized he was supposed to become a representative of God, any desire I had to practice religion in that church vaporized instantly.
Ahh, I see.
Tohsaka’s house is completely Western-style, and so is her lifestyle. Moreover, since she’ll even be studying abroad after graduation, I never even thought religion might be different.
But if someone like Kotomine was a priest, then yeah, I doubt she would ever enter the faith. Even I’d be hesitant about it.
RIN: This line of work certainly doesn’t lend itself well to being accepted by any religion to begin with. I don’t go around proclaiming to be an atheist though, seeing as it would just attract unwanted attention and distrust.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Always best to avoid standing out, huh?
RIN: Fortunately, in this country, it’s easy to pretend being a believer of any faith, and no one’s going to scold you over it either.
Because almost everyone in Japan would just visit a shrine on New Year’s, pay respects during Bon and Higan, and yet also celebrate Christmas.
RIN: And also, since truly powerful, skilled in the supernatural Buddhist practitioners that can guess my identity do appear from time to time, being unprepared is not an option.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Understood, I’ll be careful -- But really, seeing you at a temple…
Come to think of it, Tohsaka being here is all sorts of wrong.
The serene and tranquil look might be more suitable for Sakura or Saber, though.
RIN: --Are you still complaining, ▓▓▓▓▓▓?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Well, I guess it can’t be helped…
RIN: Fufu, it may not look like it, but I’m actually a shrine maiden around New Year’s.
…...Eh?
Tohsaka? A shrine maiden?? That’s the first time I’ve heard of it.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Here, at the Ryuudou Temple!?
RIN: What a farce that would be. When Issei sees me as a shrine maiden, he’ll think I’m a succubus violating his god’s holy precinct! It’ll cause a massive uproar. It’s a different shrine within the city limits, of course.
That’s a relief.
--But why a shrine maiden?
▓▓▓▓▓▓: With ties to the Tohsaka clan, it’s necessary to send someone from the family as a shrine maiden… Is there some kind of tradition like that?
RIN: Sort of like High Priestesses of the Kamo Shrine -- No, it’s just a nice part-time job to make some extra cash around New Year’s. They give preferential treatment to those with experience.
I was expecting some grand backstory, so I was a bit crestfallen. It’s true though, Issei did tell me that almost all of the shrine maidens you see around New Year’s are part-timers.
RIN: Thus, Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples are no big deal to me.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Hmm… Part-time, eh? I guess even you have it pretty tough.
I just blurted it out without thinking.
I didn’t really mean anything by it, but I think I just saw Tohsaka’s eyebrow twitch.
RIN: I can still manage without getting a full-time job. Why don’t you try it out? A New Year’s part-time job, that is.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: Me?
That light blue Shinto priest hakama getup, huh?
That’s not that far from the archery club uniform, so it wouldn’t feel that weird to wear -- In fact, if anything…
▓▓▓▓▓▓: If I had to choose, I’d say that putting on a jacket, waving an orange stick and acting as a guard or guide for visitors seems like a better fit for me.
RIN: That does sound like it would suit you better. Leaving that aside, since this place is under my jurisdiction, I can’t exactly ignore it. I come here sometimes on patrol.
Finally, she tells me the reason for her visit.
As she says, this is an important site in the ley lines, so Tohsaka wouldn’t be able to neglect it just because there’s a temple built on top.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: I see. How about a prayer while you’re here?
RIN: I don’t have any business at the main building, I just need to check out the pond in the back and the underground cave… What are you going to do?
She’s inviting me to go with her.
But if I did go, I think I’d be a hindrance.
I shake my head, and Tohsaka doesn’t seem to mind.
RIN: Ah. Alright, then please go distract Ryuudou-kun so we avoid a clash.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: ...Well, if you met with Issei here, yeah, that would definitely cause a clash.
Tohsaka pauses under the mountain gate with a bitter smile.
Before crossing the grounds, she looks back at me.
RIN: --Do you want to see me in my shrine maiden outfit.
▓▓▓▓▓▓: I’ll be honest, it’s relevant to my interests.
RIN: Fufufu, then look forward to it.
Giving a smile that fills me with anticipation, Tohsaka leaves.
Tohsaka’s shrine maiden clothes… I’m definitely interested.
12 - Visit to the grave
The main temple building is splendid, but in the back is a thick forest.
I’m quite fond of it, so I end up coming here just for a walk once in a while.
SHIROU: Huh…?
TAIGA: Oh my.
And, quite unexpectedly, I bump into Fuji-nee.
TAIGA: Shirou, you came here to the mountain?
SHIROU: I was just visiting Issei…
But Issei would probably stay on the main grounds, so there’s not much point looking for him here in the forest. Maybe my excuse was a little weird?
TAIGA: Hmm. But doesn’t Ryuudou-kun become really serious when he’s at the mountain?
SHIROU: His parents and Kuzuki-sensei are here, so there’s probably not much to be done about that.
There’s also Caster and that brother of his, Reikan.
Now that I think about it, Ryuudou Temple might actually have about as many weird inhabitants as our own house.
SHIROU: Fuji-nee, what brings… ah.
I start off, but somehow hesitate to ask.
The bucket and dipper that she just put down already made it clear.
TAIGA: I just went to visit Kiritsugu-san.
SHIROU: I see.
Kiritsugu was buried here, at the temple’s graveyard.
Fujumira Sr., together with Issei’s father, took upon planning the ceremony with much zeal and ended up choosing this mountain to place his tombstone.
But my visits were rare… Or rather, never.
TAIGA: I’ll take care of his grave. You don’t really have to worry about it, Shirou.
Fuji-nee forgives me with her usual smile.
TAIGA: You’re still young -- But he’d probably be happy if you showed up from time to time.
SHIROU: …………
TAIGA: But it is Kiritsugu-san, after all. “Don’t you dare trouble me with stuff that happens after my death,” I bet he’d say. Well, he was that kind of guy.
SHIROU: ……………
TAIGA: By the way, have you told Illya-chan or Saber-chan about the grave?
SHIROU: No… I haven’t.
TAIGA: I see… Well, I just think it’d be best if they heard it from you instead.
Those two probably have a deeper connection with Kiritsugu than I do.
But even then, Illya or Saber visiting his grave in the back of this forest -- I don’t think that would ever happen.
TAIGA: Oh? Did I make you feel bad?
SHIROU: Oh no, not at all.
TAIGA: Well, that’s good -- I’m going to return these. What about you, Shirou?
If I keep going deeper like this, I’ll end up at the graveyard that Fuji-nee had just left through a different path.
But once I get there, there’s still nothing I can say to my dad.
In that case, I’ll just return to the temple with Fuji-nee.
SHIROU: I’ll go back too. Here, let me take these.
TAIGA: Ah… Okay, let’s go.
Carrying Fuji-nee’s bucket, I start walking.
...Looking back one more time, I gaze at the forest.
I can’t see Kiritsugu’s grave from here.
SHIROU: Hey. Until next time, old man.
13 - not,
Monsters surround the wounded beast.
The remains of her humanity are on the verge of death.
Impaled by multiple claws, nothing was left of her body below her chest.
She has been cut into fine pieces.
What remains of the blackened monster could only last a few minutes more.
MEDUSA: Ha-- Haa, ha--
Through her ragged breath, she looks at her bloodied palms.
Deep crimson red.
She turns her claws, barely resembling human hands, to the monsters converging upon her.
...This corpse can still fight back.
The creatures meekly decide to observe their new brethren as she dies out.
MEDUSA: Ha… ha, ah…
Even breathing is difficult.
Though she was already dying, her body continues to transform.
Surely it wouldn’t stop even if she died.
After what was left of the woman stopped breathing, she would disappear and be reborn as a monstrous anti-hero, with no trace of her original form.
MEDUSA: ..........................I, already…
She murmurs. Being still able to utter human words feels like some kind of lingering attachement, and it irritates her.
MEDUSA: ..............................knew… that.
Dimly, she looks at her deforming hands.
...She had known all along.
She had confessed it to him as well.
That her form was only temporary. That her true nature was that of a hideous monster.
--She was destined for ruin. From the moment she consumed human blood, her end had been determined.
[She recalls the past, when she was completely consumed by her own monstrous nature and devoured her own sisters.]
MEDUSA: ah-- Aaaah, ah--
What did she love?
What did she want?
She had so little that was precious to her that she swore to protect them no matter what, and yet…
Now that she is heading to her death/While she is being transformed,
she can’t even recall it.
MEDUSA: --Hah--ah--
She can’t stop the transformation.
At this rate, she will turn into a monster and disappear.
Everything will end with that.
From now on, she will be summoned as a monster, not to protect humans, but to annihilate them.
MEDUSA: --
She can’t stop the transformation.
...There is nothing to be done, nothing to care about.
The swarm of creatures is like the band at a festival.
They revelled(despised) in the birth of a new monster.
MEDUSA: --, ………….
“Her” consciousness wanes.
...She has a feeling that there is still something left to do, yet she can’t quite seem to place it.
As her life comes to a close, she quietly shuts her eyes--
MEDUSA: ......, who?
She noticed an unfamiliar presence peering at her.
AVENGER: Huh, you can see me? --I see. You got turned into a monster too, huh?
Though it feels like she has never heard its voice before, the laughter sounds all too familiar.
A smirking grin and sneering eyes.
...It irritates her considerably. Her sadistic heart starts to pound again.
If her body was strong, she would have leaped forward and plucked its head right off.
AVENGER: Aah… Naw, I see, not quite. You’re not something so clear-cut. Are you aware of what you are?
Aware…?
She isn’t prepared for it, but she accepts it as truth.
This Heroic Spirit’s seat would no longer be Medusa’s, but that of the monstrous Gorgon.
AVENGER: I see. Quite astute of you. But, it seems that you still don’t know what it means to be a monster. Get it? A monster doesn’t attack humans to live, it lives to attack humans. It’s a slaughter mechanism that’s completely antithetical to human society. It acts as a harmful toxin just by being there. That’s what a monster is-- Now, can you still call yourself one?
She already knows that. From now on, she will embody that concept over and over again.
MEDUSA: --Why ask that… now? Since the beginning, I have…
Since the beginning, she has been a monster.
A monster camouflaged in human intellect and appearance.
...If she would someday become such a monster, then her true nature must be the same.
That’s why it doesn’t matter anymore.
She roamed the city at night in search of blood, and found herself indulging in slaughter.
...Such a monster would shed its skin to reveal its true colors someday, just like this.
AVENGER: --Ha!
And yet, it laughs.
Heartfelt mirth.
Heartfelt hatred.
As if to scorn the woman who, by the minute, was turning into a hideous monster.
AVENGER: As I said, that’s not the same. Look, a monster isn’t something that kills on instinct. It’s something that kills with unsurpassed reason. Fully exploiting its overwhelming superiority over humans, slaughtering without doubt or regret and writhing in ecstasy during the act… Now that’s a monster. Someone who just happens to start killing people is something different altogether. --You’re some half-baked killer that’s neither the former nor latter. Meanwhile, you still have time to choose which one to become.
MEDUSA: --,--
Her intellect wanted to just fall into the abyss already, but stubbornly clung to the cliff’s edge.
She continues clutching pitifully at the earth, wishing for solid ground.
MEDUSA: ...What, do… you mean?
AVENGER: Don’t you get it? One half of you craves blood, and the other half cares about something else. Both sides are who you are. You can’t deny either of them. It’s not like some desires are inherently superior to others. Which is greater? Which is more valuable? That changes depending on the occasion. The real question is-- Do you still have it?
MEDUSA: ...Have… what?
The slightest bit of strength returns to her arm.
She summoned all her reserves in desperation.
It is not enough to pull her out of the abyss.
No matter how much she struggles, she will only disappear at this rate.
Laughing, it looks down upon her.
AVENGER: --Then I ask of you, Servant Rider. In your heart, is there any fragment of your desires left?
[She recalls her Master, a girl like herself, the one person she wants to save--]
MEDUSA: Ah--, ah-- ...huh?
She stares at her hands, dumbfounded.
Her transformation halted, and she is fading away as her human self.
MEDUSA: ...W-Why…?
AVENGER: Cuz you’re not a monster. --How embarrassing. Because you have the desire to help someone, you just barely managed to become a human being.
She could hear a voice from elsewhere.
The speaker was near, but could no longer be seen.
AVENGER: Oh well, that’s settled then. Your anguish will follow you for eternity, but as long as you have that wish, you won’t turn into a monster. --And for as long as that anguish follows you, you’ll never come over to this side.
The presence fades.
The shadow gives an all-too-friendly wave and disappears.
MEDUSA: --Wait. You, are…
Coughing blood, she calls out to the figure.
AVENGER: Haha, what a persistent snake-lady. You’ve got some impressive vitality, but die quietly this time. And when you wake up, be sure to apologize to your Master. It’s kinda hypocritical coming from me, but Master and Servant have to get along.
Snickering, it finally disappears.
14 - Valentine's
Summary:
-Walking in Chaldea, Avenger is approached by Ritsuka!
-He's like lol are we going somewhere, it'll be great if I manage to take down even a single enemy
-BUT NO ACTUALLY IT'S VALENTINE'S CHOCOLATE
-Since he's been given such a shocking gift, he retaliates with an equally shocking return gift: HIS OLD RATTY BANDANNA
-Maybe Master can sell it or something, a shitty return like this is what you get for throwing chocolate in the trash you fool
-He's going to enjoy the shit out of this chocolate, maybe enough to die from how sweet it is~
15 - fate
A pale little girl hangs in the air, holding open a dark hole in the sky with her presence. From the hole, curses drip out in the form of a thick black mud, darkening the lake below completely.
On the shore are two figures, a man and a young boy. The man is Kotomine Kirei, a false priest who seeks to open the Holy Grail. The boy is Emiya Shirou. They speak to each other, but the exact words are lost in the blurriness of the memory. All that matters is that the two are similar, yet their only goal now is to kill each other.
The boy attempts to approach, but is stopped by the mud lashing out at him like tentacles. The curses burn his skin, slowly covering him in blackness. The hatred pouring out of the Grail wraps around him, all the evil of the world shaping into a mould around his body and mind. It will kill him. After all, it killed his father as well.
But that knowledge is what allows him to endure it and push through the hatred. Not for the sake of vengeance, not for any concern over his own survival. Emiya Shirou made a promise to Emiya Kiritsugu, and he absolutely must fulfill it. He shakes off the mud.
The priest is shocked, but undeterred. The mud is unending, and all it has to do is overwhelm the boy to the point where no human could possibly make it.
The darkness pours on him, more and more of it, and-
"Trace on."
The boy casts a spell.
A blinding light appears in his hand, a wall of purity that no evil can ever hope to tarnish. It's too bright to be seen. It's so bright that what happens next is blocked out, but it is still clear what happens.
The priest falls. The boy, still alive, brings down the girl who was bringing the Holy Grail into being. The hole in the sky closes. What was already difficult to distinguish becomes a faint blur, the location and the people in it too far away to be seen.
And soon, there is another light. Where the previous light was a barrier, this is a blade. It cuts through the Holy Grail and the darkness contained within it, reducing both to nothingness.
16 - Heaven's Feel Backnight 3 (name)
To kill the monsters and to find the Masters. Bazett wanders the city under the pretense of both.
What a roundabout way of doing things.
This isn’t to win the war.
Bazett is looking for something else.
What makes it roundabout is the fact that Bazett herself doesn’t realize it.
She’s anxious because she can’t totally forget that. Makes me want to have a certain idiot, who forgot about his own power, follow her example.
BAZETT: ……………
She’s acting a little strange. Maybe she had some bad experience at a harbor. After looking at the sea for some time,
BAZETT: Avenger. We have fought many Masters. The Servants accounted for are Saber, Archer, Caster, Rider, Assassin, and you. The only enemies that we have yet to encounter directly are the Master and Servant of the Einzberns.
AVENGER: Yeah, sounds about right. Of course, I’m not really happy that so far there’s been nothing but black marks.
BAZETT: ...Yes. We have yet to achieve a single clear victory. No matter how exceptional of a familiar the Servant we face may be, this should not happen.
Bazett grits her teeth.
Not from the pain of defeat, but because she’s trying to rouse herself.
BAZETT: I know that I am being apprehensive, but I would still like to hear your opinion. ...Do you… Do you think we can win? It is a fact that we are inferior in strength, but if we continue like this, one of these days we…
“One of these days we should win the war, right?” her eyes ask.
We’re losing because we don’t have enough experience.
If Bazett uses me a little for fighting, and if I tell her what my real Noble Phantasm is, there is no Servant we can’t handle.
...Well, we’ll pick up a victory pattern of sorts anyway, whether we want one or not, so I really don’t need to tell her now, but…
AVENGER: One of these days we’ll stop losing. But more importantly, Master, you’re using “we” instead of “I” now for this talk about winning.
I just had to point that out because I found it amusing.
BAZETT: Ah-- n-no, did I? I, I didn’t mean that consciously, but…
AVENGER: Now that’s interesting. So, you trust me unconsciously, is that it? What, is this love? Can I interpret that as love growing towards me as a friend?
BAZETT: D-Don’t be ridiculous. So, what proof do you have that we will not lose? Tell me honestly, without hiding anything.
AVENGER: I don’t have proof yet, but there will be results eventually. You’ve got a trump card that can take out Servants, right? Just like that, I’ve got a trump card that’ll stop a Servant for a little while. Since we’ve got both of these, the rest is up to how we use them. We just need to work on the timing for that from now on.
BAZETT: Trump card…? Do you have multiple Noble Phantasms?
AVENGER: Nope, I only have one. As for resurrection, well… That’s not me, that’s an ability that got added on later when I became Angra Mainyu. My Noble Phantasm is an imitation of Avesta, you see. Well, I’ll tell you more when we get back.
Avesta is a support-type Noble Phantasm that records events by its own volition. On the level of an automatic typewriter, basically. Absolutely useless in a fight.
The advantage is that it is able to put into words emotions that are indescribable and ones that you wouldn’t even be aware of.
A Noble Phantasm that’s incapable of harming anyone befitted the name of Avesta -- the book that inscribes all things correctly.
My Noble Phantasm, yeah, it’s just a little bit of an imitation of that, but--
AVENGER: Anyway, if you want to stop losing, you’re going to have to get serious too. In combat, you’re the best of the Masters. You might even be able to defeat a Servant with your bare hands, so what’s with the low self-esteem?
BAZETT: ...That is… true… I have no intention of losing even if I am dealing with Servants, except all I can do is fight. I believe that I am, er, the worst of the Masters in other skills.
AVENGER: So what? There’s nothing wrong with that. Hrrm, wonder why you’re feeling guilty about being tough. Pretty damn ugly, that kind of attitude.
BAZETT: Wha… I, I don’t feel any particular guilt, not at all. I have no feelings nor regret towards any of those I have killed.
AVENGER: Oooh, that’s reassuring, iron woman. Keep fighting with that attitude. ‘Course, if you go overboard, I’m going to look pretty dumb. Lady, as you are right now, you’re 10 times stronger than me, you know.
BAZETT: Y-Yes, I am well aware of that. After all, on the very first day, I was made painfully aware of just how useless you are in battle.
AVENGER: Right, right. Oh yeah, but when it comes down to a human-killing competition, I’m number one. Natural inclinations, you see. ...Wait, maybe not number one. I’m either second or third.
BAZETT: ? There’s a better murderer than you?
AVENGER: Yep, that’s right. There’s this dog and spider. These guys, you see… I just can’t keep up with them no matter what I do. I can match up in quality, but speed? Speed’s on a whole different level.
Never got into a competition with them or even met them, but I understand it as an undeniable fact.
It’s just like how a spider knows how to spin a web from the moment of birth.
I learned that’s how the rules were from the moment I was called Angra Mainyu.
BAZETT: Hm. So as a Heroic Spirit you are bound by the condition of “not being able to win in speed,” I see. Avenger. You told me that you are called Angra Mainyu, but that should not be your true name. What was the name that you had when you were alive?
AVENGER: I told you, I don’t know. As I said, I don’t have one. If Angra Mainyu is too hard for you to pronounce, you can call me just Angra.
BAZETT: That cannot be true. You should be able to remember your own name. ...I take that back. I, of all people, should not be the one to be saying this. However, a name is the beginning of everything. A name given at the moment of birth, if you think about it, is the expression of one’s life. If you cannot remember, you should not be able to whistle with that kind of ease.
AVENGER: Damn you’re dense. Get this, my name is gone. It was taken from me when I was treated as a hero. The town I’m from produced some first-rate curses, if nothing else. It’s been stripped from me by curses, so I don’t know what birth name I was called by. Even if you order me to remember, that record just doesn’t exist anywhere in the world anymore.
A name, if you think about it, is your own life, huh?
She’s got a bit of a silver tongue on her. I can’t just sit back and lose to her, so I guess I’ll tell her a few things.
This is a common, old story.
In it, there is a man whose life is saved by his friend. To save the man, that friend died.
The man took the name of the friend who died to save him, and from then on, saved the lives of many.
This was to give what remained in the world after, his deeds, his life, everything, to his friend who had wagered his life for him.
There’s nothing heartwarming about a story like that, not at all.
To put it simply, that man died long ago when he swore to lie about his own name and use his friend’s.
BAZETT: Then, your birth name is no longer…
AVENGER: Doesn’t exist, nope. But I like the name I have now, since I’ve been called this longer than my birth name. I’ve got some attachement to it and it’s got a nice homely feel.
BAZETT: I see. You have lose your birth name, but your next name was one that you were fondly called as a hero. Even if it is a title, it is a name that gained acclaim from people. Of course, you would like it. ...Forgive me. I must apologize to you. I came to a hasty conclusion and ended up showing you unwelcome pity.
AVENGER: Mm-- well, you don’t have to worry about that, and it’s nothing to apologize about.
It’s okay to come to a hasty conclusion, but pity is bad. If you’re going to pity me, gimme some love instead. Please love me!
summary
-Bazett asks if Avenger thinks they can really win the Grail War
-He tells her they're bound to win sooner or later thanks to their abilities matching well
-She feels unhappy about being good at nothing but fighting, but is well aware that she's stronger than Avenger
-She asks about the name he had while alive
-He explains that his former name has been erased, but he's fine with being Angra Mainyu
17 - Night at Kageyama
I pursue that figure.
I pursue it, because this time I must meet it.
[He recalls Caren, surrounded by the Avenger beasts]
--That’s right.
Lest that night, yet unknown to me, happen once again.
I enter the temple grounds.
The figure is moving to the rear woods, as if to escape from me, or maybe to lure me.
...It’s alright, I can catch it.
There’s less than an hour to go until the date changes.
If I can catch it before then, the abnormality behind these four days will finally be made clear--!
My field of vision expands.
Past the tunnel of trees looms a familiar hilltop.
The moon tonight is annoyingly beautiful.
As if frozen by its shine, the silver-haired girl is waiting for me to arrive.
CAREN: --
SHIROU: You, are…
Lightning runs through my brain.
My synapses are running wild with deja vu.
I know her.
Was it once, or was it many times?
On an incalculable number of nights, Emiya Shirou has died in front of this girl.
...I take a step forward.
Despite all I’ve been through until now, I feel no hostility or wariness towards her.
Completely unarmed, I slowly shorten the distance between us,
CAREN: --Caren.
One final step away, I hear a voice.
SHIROU: --What?
CAREN: Caren Ortensia. That is my name.
A cool indifference, like that of a machine.
As if just doing her job. Businesslike and curt.
And yet, this girl’s voice,
SHIROU: Caren -- Ortensia.
rings through my chest like fine music, caring and sympathetic.
SHIROU: Ah… Um, my name is…
CAREN: I already know it. Emiya Shirou. As Saber’s Master, you were the winner of the Holy Grail War. I performed an investigation on you before I came here.
SHIROU: --You... investigated me…?
My mind fires up once again.
My sense of vigilance that had gone dull instantly forces me to keep my distance from the girl.
SHIROU: What’s going on? This is my first time meeting you, so why have you been investigating me?
CAREN: ...It is precisely because this is our first meeting that I investigated you in advance. Emiya Shirou. You do not truly understand your own nature. From your tone, it sounds as though you claim to be a harmless human.
She keeps a casual watch over me.
...Somehow, I feel intimidated.
She’s nonchalantly rude to me, yet I still feel like agreeing and apologizing to her.
SHIROU: Ugh-- No, I’m no… harmless, but I don’t really think I’m harmful either.
CAREN: You are conscious of yourself. That is good. Had you insisted you were harmless, I would have had to sentence you to hard labor… My impression of you has slightly improved, Emiya Shirou.
SHIROU: Ah… Thanks, I guess.
Completely indifferent all the way through, the girl only states the truth.
...What a strange power. Somehow, she makes me feel like I’m being scolded.
SHIROU: ...Wait. You’re throwing everything out of whack. Harmless or harmful, let’s leave that for later. There’s something more important right now--
There’s something I have to ask.
Caren’s identity.
The various oddities hidden in the city.
The truth behind this reproduced Holy Grail War of only four days.
SHIROU: Exactly who are you? Why are you investigating me? ...No, forget about me, what about the city? Why on Earth would you lead that pack of monsters here?
CAREN: Are you saying that I brought the monsters with me…?
SHIROU: W-What? I won’t fall for it even if you try to trick me. I definitely saw-- No, it wasn’t really me, but I saw you cover the whole town with those monsters many times. Stop playing dumb. It may fool others, but it won’t fool me.
CAREN: …...pazienza……
A quiet sound.
CAREN: Lord. Forgive this person’s thoughtlessness and rash remarks. ...While You are at it, quiet this anger of mine that is hard to extinguish.
SHIROU: Hah?
CAREN: ...Pardon me. I took up more of your time than needed. I had not anticipated that the winner of the Holy Grail War would be such an unperceptive human, so I could not help myself.
...I will answer your question. I am the person sent in order to investigate and to supervise you all. That is, you, the magi that participated in the Holy Grail War. My main purpose is to study the surge of activity exhibited by the Holy Grail that once again appeared in this town.
...Investigate, supervise…?
Come to think of it, wasn’t there someone else who kept saying the same thing?
No, no, more importantly, if she’s here to “study the surge of activity”...
SHIROU: --So you are… not an enemy…?
CAREN: If you do not think so, there is no need to treat me as an enemy… While I do pose harm, I am harmless to those who do not perceive me as harmful.
The girl is not lying.
No, this, in a sense, courteous girl may mislead, but would not speak an outright lie.
I have no proof, but I can guarantee that much.
SHIROU: --No, but…
The girl definitely brought those monsters along with her.
The fourth night.
The moment the moon approached the summit, just like it is now--
--Now, it’s the promised time--
SHIROU: …!!!
The air changes.
The tremors are reshaping the world.
The sky is black.
In an instant, that familiar hill…
Becomes a piled-up mountain of corpses, a hell on Earth.
SHIROU: …!?
My eyes are fixed on Caren.
Just like back then, the girl is shedding blood and suffering.
CAREN: Tch…!
...There’s a horde of them.
Those eerie monsters were being born here.
The piled-up corpses are, one by one, awakening and surrounding us.
...Hate. Hate, hate, hate--!
Howling becomes a chorus.
The almost inaudible low sounds are destroying my sanity.
It’s an awful sensation, like a centipede entering through my ear and rummaging around inside, tearing off my nerves.
SHIROU: …...kh. ...Caren, right? What are these guys? You are their owner, aren’t you? Can’t you tell them to stay away…?
CAREN: ...You are wrong, Emiya Shirou. I have nothing to do with them.
SHIROU: Mmph… Nothing to do with them? Really?
CAREN: It’s true. I can swear to the Lord, if you like.
Having seemingly recovered from the mysterious bleeding, she catches her breath and stands back-to-back with me.
SHIROU: Wai… W-What the heck, if you’re injured, just take it easy, I’m telling you.
CAREN: ...Right now, I shall prioritize your safety over my wounds. I am unrelated to them. No, they don’t have any interest in me. The only one their eyes see, no, the only person they will voluntarily harm, is you.
--I found you. Tonight as well, I’ll quickly--!
The monsters close in.
The immense hatred is directed at no one but me.
SHIROU: --Only, me?
The claws covered in entrails are clearly stating their desire to tear me up.
I know.
If I’m torn to pieces by those, this time, once again, I will--
SHIROU: ...That’s right, you too…
The same as those monsters, no, those monsters were born from her body.
CAREN: ...You already saw it, didn’t you? However, you can be at ease. I shall not be affected while staying here. No, these children will not make me change. The only ones that can alter me are the phenomena known as demons.
She says indifferently.
I hear the sound of rustling clothese.
Behind me, Caren’s red Holy Cloth of Magdala whirls in the air.
--SurRoUnd surRoUnd surRoUnd surRoUnd--!
Shut up already. Those grudges that you can’t get out of your stupid heads are drowning out the beautiful rustling.
--Obstacles everywhere.
I want to stay calm.
I want to talk to this girl.
No, what’s even more important right now--
--I want to hate those shadows more--
SHIROU: Huh?-- ...They won’t… affect you…?
CAREN: Correct. All the monsters here are dead. You and I can speak normally.
SHIROU: All the monsters are dead…? But these guys are still moving.
CAREN: They are different. They weren’t alive to begin with. ...Look closely, and you will see. These are nothing but forgotten remains. The power they possess as individuals is insignificant.
Remains.
They certainly do look like a scrap pile of abandoned machinery.
I wonder if someone threw them away here.
I won’t go so far as to say it’s infinite, but this pile is enormously tall. There are probably over a hundred million corpses, a chain of death that you’d give up counting the links on.
Won’t forgive, won’t forgive, won’t forgive, won’t forgive.
--But I don’t care.
These bastards have been invading my eardrums as they please for a while now.
CAREN: --Here they come… I shall protect your back.
Just survive somehow until the date changes.
SHIROU: --
There is an avalanche.
The mountain of corpses is crumbling.
A swarm of monsters, countless as the stars, coming to kill me and only me.
SHIROU: Ha-- Somehow, huh? Sure is easy to say that.
There’s no time to hesitate.
A switch clicks in my brain.
My peaceful self withdraws, and is replaced with one that knows of nothing but defeating the enemy.
--Lose it, lose it, you’ll also lose it--!
The change in my thought process went astonishingly smooth.
It was so simple. A manifestation of pure sadism kicks my solid reasoning to the curb.
SHIROU: Trace--
I don’t hesitate.
Frankly, faced with this sea of garbage, I have already lost my sanity, and…
SHIROU: On--
There are models for the weapon I will project scattered among the trash before me--!
A cloud of dust rises up.
The swarm of claws is rushing towards us.
Beastly daggers crawling out of every crack, in every direction.
Sparks dance in the muddy moonlight.
Narrowly avoiding the claws coming to gouge both of my eyes out, I end up nearly kissing one corpse in the face as I dispatch him with a dagger.
Debris from the crumbling wreckage looms over me.
For each one of their brethren that goes down, there’s another swarm coming to skewer me.
SHIROU: --Ha…!
I retaliate ferociously.
Three strikes in one second. Projecting twelve of the weapons at once, I shoot them all off towards the monsters.
SHIROU: --, --, hah, ah--!
My breathing speeds up.
It’s a limitless barrage of madness, an endless stream of lethal weapons.
The back hills are being carpet-bombed with malice.
With the enemies rushing at me, both my mind and body are reaching their limit.
SHIROU: --Ah, --haa, --ha……!!!!
But this limit is endless. For this night only, the limits of ability and the limits of physical strength are no longer connected.
My strength is left behind, and my ability shoots up with no end in sight.
The muscles needed to wield a dagger are long since overstretched and destroyed.
Yet my head is crystal clear.
The weapons I am projecting must be highly compatible with my own self, for not only am I not running out of magical energy, the speed at which they appear is not going down, either.
If this keeps up…
Thirty minutes is nothing. I can fight to the death.
The girl behind me is warding off the beasts just as well.
Like a snake moving of its own volition, the red cloth warns, rebukes, and forces the monsters to retreat.
SHIROU: Huu, haah, ha--, you…!
It’s gentle to the point of making me envious.
A defense that accepts the beasts while it rejects them. Sadism and masochism. Affirmation and denial. That girl is making something incompatible become compatible. Ha. I’ll pass, thanks. If I ever got wrapped up in that, I’d just melt from all that warmth.
A woman defending my back with all her might.
Thanks to her, I am still alive.
Thanks to her, the swarm of corpses around me is getting ever so smaller.
--You’re in the way.
There’s no real reason for it.
This woman has become irresistibly ▓▓▓▓ to “me”.
Now-- Kill, kill, kill, kill--!
A grand chorus repeats again and again.
A grand chorus repeats again and again.
A grand prayer cuts down again and again.
SHIROU: , ha--!
Everything’s perfect. Even faced with over a hundred million alone, I will not lose…!
--Hate, hate, hate, hate--
SHIROU: Ha-- Ah, hah, ha--!
Shut up.
Shut up.
SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!
Shut up you bastards, it’s the first time I’ve felt this good, my head feels like it’s roasting in a fire, there’s no end to the expansion of this tiny consciousness, more, make more, make endlessly more, make infinitely more, aaaaah, I’m so, so, so--
SHIROU: Ha-- Haha, haha, hahaha, ah--!
I’m so close to the climax, so don’t you dare stop me now…!
SHIROU: Ha, haa, haa, h-- ...ah, huh…?
The mountain of corpses is fading.
The impure air is clearing, and the muddy moon is regaining its innocence.
The dagger in my hand vanishes, unable to contain magical energy any longer.
SHIROU: ...They’re… gone…?
The date had changed without me noticing.
The scorching excitement that was burning down my sense of reason only moments ago is already cooling off.
I fall to the ground on my knees.
I’m exhausted, and can’t move a single step.
Reason, magic, strength. Having abuses all three, the outcome is hardly surprising.
CAREN: --Disgusting.
Standing in front of me, Caren has not changed one bit.
What is she looking down on me for? I’m too tired to work it out.
CAREN: But you have passed. At long last, the two of us were able to meet.
...I hear a voice from afar.
Is it Tohsaka?
I guess she must have felt the disturbance and come running from the temple.
Not interested in meeting Tohsaka apparently, Caren is about to disappear into the forest.
SHIROU: Wait. You haven’t told…
CAREN: No, this is it for our meeting. The present you can go no further than this. ...However, yet another gap is now filled. We can meet at any time now, if you so desire.
The sound of footsteps is getting closer.
Tohsaka is running along the forest road.
CAREN: Sweet dreams. Once you wake up, please come to my house alone.
Her silver hair is slipping away into the darkness of the trees.
The girl that introduced herself as “Caren” will never appear before me again.
If I am to meet her again, it will only be once this incident is resolved.
It will be our first meeting, and the first exchange of names.
SHIROU: --, ha--
Tohsaka’s coming, so it’s alright if I just fall asleep like this, isn’t it?
...I’m so tired. I just want to sleep.
Out of all the many others running alongside me…
Looking back, if Emiya Shirou has done anything of significance at all, it would be on this night.
I close my eyes to fall asleep.
I got past the night of the fourth day. When I wake up, everything should be back to normal.
OnLY yoU weRe saVeD agAIn.
...A faint imprint of the cursed voices remains on my eardrums.
But even that will be forgotten by the time I wake up--
summary
-She introduces herself and states that she's been investigating him as part of her role as supervisor
-He asks about her involvement with the monsters, but she claims not to be connected to them
-They are attacked by an endless horde of the monsters
-Caren states that the monsters are already dead and only interested in Shirou
-He fights the monsters with an uncharacteristic bloodlust, projecting Avenger's daggers countless times
-When the date changes, the onslaught stops and Shirou collapses in exhaustion
-Caren tells him they can now meet whenever he wants and disappears
18 - Relaxation of the King
they are greeted by a dark silhouette, recognisable by his voice as doodleman]
ANGRA: What, you’re here already? Does that mean that those two failed?
Well, I think it was a wrong move to make that low energy oniisan the decoy?
Anyway, since it’s come to this, hello there!
Master and King-sama-chan! Good work coming all the way here!
DA VINCI: That is… the servant we saw from the Greater Grail during the Zero incident?
His Saint Graph is not recorded in Chaldea, so why is he here?
Are you the one who kidnapped Doctor Roman?
ANGRA: Doctor, huh. I don’t know any doctors or scholars…
Well, who’s that again?
Doctor Ronpa, was it?
Anyway, yeah I did it!
I vaguely remember accepting that kinda job!
And so, do you wanna fight it out?!
But please, be careful!
‘Cos I’m reaaally weak!
I’ll die from one punch, so there’s no complaints there, right?!
Also, if I die, the doctor’s whereabouts would forever be lost, so be careful about that, okay?!
GILGAMESH: What?! If we carelessly end up killing you, we won’t get any information?!
What’s with this clichéd hostage situation?!
A Servant using his own life as a bargaining chip?!
RITSUKA: Then let’s gently… no, in full force!!!
MASH: Yes! Leave the exploration of the surrounding areas to me!
So please, King Gilgamesh, please defeat the enemy Servant!
GILGAMESH: Oh? And so that’s how it is, even I was surprised by this turn of events. I wonder how the next part would play out?
ANGRA: Hmm… absolutely not caring about my life huh, I really like that! That’s not bad!
Ah well, it’s not like I’m not used to being treated that way?
My life and death are often overlooked since the beginning anyway?
If only you rode in on my cajolery, wouldn’t that be the better outcome?
MASH: Master!
RITSUKA: King Gilgamesh, behind you!
GILGAMESH: Why did you warn me too late?! That was a close one! If it hadn’t it been me, that would’ve resulted into a fatal injury!
Oh well, I’ll forgive you for barely warning me.
Show yourself, third servant!
[the man who shows up is recognisable as lucifel despite having shorter hair]
AMAKUSA: I missed a great opportunity there… if only I was a bit faster, I could’ve ambushed you better.
Or was it both our fault?
Was our cooperation not good enough?
MASH: No way… even Amakusa-san…
Please tell me, what have you done to the Doctor? Why did you do such a thing?
AMAKUSA: Well about that…
…Avenger, what was it again?
ANGRA: You’re just gonna pass the ball to me like that, huh.
Ah, oh right! We were gonna eradicate Chaldea, was it?
AMAKUSA: That’s kind of clichéd, but oh well.
Alright. It’s just as he says.
The time is ripe for action, if I dare say? I guess it’s fine to say that.
GILGAMESH: As usual, you’re a cunning man. This is the second time we’ve met, hm?
Though I have not met you directly in this form yet, the fact that my previous form met you is engraved in my Saint Graph.
I have reviewed what was recorded in my Saint Graph, and saw what you did for Uruk, holy man.
But staging a rebellion such as this, what, have you grown tired of the ways of these people of the modern era?
AMAKUSA: Hahaha! Though that is indeed, something I would do, I shall leave it to your imagination instead.
But let me just say one thing, no matter where or when we meet, I am me.
ANGRA: Hey! If your supposed surprise attack failed, why not end it quickly? Now’s not the time to chat around!
That king over there and the master too, they’ve grown tired of your talk.
Besides, the enemy is a just a Caster.
Rather than talk it out, wouldn’t it be better to beat them to a pulp with physical strength?
GILGAMESH: Very well. I shall respond to your challenge, Avenger.
These magic wands are all part of my prided treasures!
Know their full power directly!!!
[they fight! gil wins, but avenger and ruler are not dead yet]
ANGRA: Gah! That hurts! But too bad, you failed to kill me, King of Heroes!
Here I go! This is the power of an Avenger! I’ll return the curse in double!
GILGAMESH: Verg Avesta…?! As if I’d let you, bastard!
AMAKUSA: Hah!
GILGAMESH: Tch, how cunning…! The accuracy was precise. Did you learn that from your time with Fuuma? To think that you’ll be able to rise up from that.
What, did you meet a monster? A beast that is outside the limit of common sense?
AMAKUSA: Yes. Because of that, I’ve become traumatized of jaguars. I was completely defeated by that servant.
I wonder about you though. We seem to share the same way of doing things, the same rationality.
I wonder if we can come to an understanding. And through that, if I can make an opening.
GILGAMESH: Heh. So while you were calmly trying to reason with me, you’ve managed to block my feet from moving. Though it’s not bad to try and to reason it out, you lack authority!
I shall show you how it’s done!
Draw your arrows, I will permit it! Witness the defense of Uruk, this greatest and richest of cities! The deluge of the land--…
AMAKUSA: I know that! That’s why this is a struggle for that…!
GILGAMESH: Ugh!
RITSUKA: God’s Resolution?!
GILGAMESH: Don’t panic! Don’t you have the same ace as him?! Use those hands of yours for something!
[ritsuka shoots a spell to briefly stun avenger]
ANGRA: Uwah! Oww, this Gandr is the woooorst!
AMAKUSA: So you stopped Verg Avesta? As expected of my Master, making such a critical decision.
Had you not stopped it, the King of Heroes would’ve been struck down by the return curse.
But… what will you do after that? I can fire my Noble Phantasm faster than the King of Heroes to regain movement.
Why not test it now?
Heaven's Feel begin. An end to all things--…
GILGAMESH: How ridiculous! To look down not only upon me, but also my treasures?!
I will show you that even if you have stopped my movement, my magic wands can still function!
Take this, Melamu Din--…!!
ROMAN: Wait! Wait! What are you guys doing in that place?!
RITSUKA: Eh?! Doctor?!
DA VINCI: Just now, Roman came rushing in… it was so sudden that even we here has not grasped the situation at all.
Just where were you until now?!
ROMAN: What do you mean where… I’m more interested to know what this fuss is all about…
I was just in my room, taking a nap. If you’re going to ask me how long, then about four hours.
I was even having a very nice dream. And now I’m being treated as a missing person…
DA VINCI: No way! But there was nothing in the feed from the camera inside your room!?
AMAKUSA: Hmm… it seems like Doctor Roman has awakened, I guess this ends here.
ANGRA: Yeah. But Saint-sama, don’t you think that it’s a bit of a waste, since we were almost able to defeat them? Oh well, then I’ll disappear quietly too.
Aah, ah, anyone would’ve been great, I just wanted to kill someone shaped like a human!
GILGAMESH: Tch… that bastard Merlin, was he trying to gain a favor from me? Ending this while I’m in a tight spot…
Oh well. Since he’s awake now, there’s no reason for us to stay in this place.
The rest shall be explained once we return to Chaldea.
Mash! Start the return rayshift operation.
ROMAN: Haaah, I keep telling you guys, rayshifting is not free…
I don’t even know what’s happening, but I’m starting preparations for the return leyshift. Da Vinci-chan, Mashu, help me out.
AMAKUSA: Please don’t forget to retrieve Jack the Ripper and Paracelsus as well. Especially since Jack was great at following instructions, please don’t forget to give her a reward later.
summary
-they fight the heroes!
-oh wait it was all a ruse, they didn't actually do anything bad
19 - Christmas in the Underworld
GATEKEEPER: Hey, there you are, Santa Claus! Took your freaking time, didn't you!? Where's my present? You DO have one for me, yeah? Good thing! I've been nursing this grudge for so long! Who'da thunk I'd be meeting Santa Claus at this age!? Well? Don't you have a present for everyone who waits long enough? Even if they're evil murderers and stuff? C'mon, spit it out! Isn't that kinda compassion crap your whole deal?
ALTERA SANTA: Wha...
RITSUKA: I feel like I've seen something like this before...
GATEKEEPER: What? You're stiffing me on presents? Seriously? Freakin' weird. Here I thought I was a perfect fit for the underworld. I'm an old hand when it comes to human sacrifice, y'know. Guess I'm just not famous enough, huh. Figures. I never did get much in the way of name recognition. I think they call me a Rogue Servant? Anyway, you can just call me Shadow Santa. I'm actually a saint, if you can believe that! Heeheeheehee!
ALTERA SANTA: What...? Then, you're telling me you, too, are Santa Claus...? Because you don't exactly seem, um...dressed for the part... Nor do I see a sack of presents anywhere...
SHADOW SANTA: Well of course you don't. I don't got anything like that. I just deliver a buncha fakes and crap. When I'm Santa, I just run to a dollar store and load up on cheap garbage. Let me give you a little tip as your Santa senpai, you sheep-riding weirdo... Seriously, what the hell... Chrismas is an event. It's all about the PRESENTS. The value of goods changes every year. All they need is someone to give 'em, and someone to get 'em. The present's genuine worth is secondary at best. Not that anyone these days seems to remember that.
ALTERA SANTA: ...Are you sure you're really Santa Claus?
SHADOW SANTA: Oh, sure. You and I are two peas in a pod. At least, when it comes to making shit up. Seems like you're in a hurry though, huh? Fine, fine. Don't worry about me and my tragic backstory. You just gotta focus on getting rid of me, otherwise the gate won't open. So come on, lady! Let's DO this! Christmas comes but once a year, right? What better way to deck the halls than with some good, old-fashioned murder with a smile!?
ALTERA SANTA: So, this man enjoys killing...! Come, Master! It seems this Servant has no need of a present!
They fight, with the sheep-riding Santa victorious.
ALTERA SANTA: Take that! It's over, Shadow Santa!
SHADOW SANTA: Aaaaaaghhh! Sheep! Sheep everywhere! What the hell!?
He is swarmed by a great number of cute, fluffy sheep.
SHADOW SANTA: ...Man, you guys really don't pull your punches. I was just trying to scare you a little. I actually do want a present, though. Nobody wants to just get written off as a one-note bad guy.
ALTERA SANTA: Hm... I suppose you have a point. Still, I'm afraid you're rather... How can I put this...
RITSUKA: You're not exactly Christmasy...
SHADOW SANTA: Oh, yeah? So I just gotta look more Christmasy, is that it? Okay, then check THIS out! TRAAANSFOOORRRM! Decorations, activate!
He transforms into a decoration.
ALTERA SANTA: ...! That gleam...
RITSUKA: Now THOSE are Christmas lights!
SHADOW SANTA: Check out this badass body lighting! Even I can shine at least once a year! You can use me as mood lighting for a romantic night or whatever if you wanna.
ALTERA SANTA: I suppose you are a Santa... kind of. I guess there's more to being Santa Claus than I thought. I owe you an apology. I'm sorry for writing you off as an evil hooligan of a Servant...
SHADOW SANTA: Ah, don't worry about it. False charges? Punishment? Get it all the time. Anyway...
He goes rummaging through the sheep for a present.
GREAT SHEEP ZERCO: Baaa. (That hurts.) Ba-baaa. (That hurts too.)
ALTERA SANTA: What are you doing to Zerco!?
SHADOW SANTA: Hmm, how 'bout this one? Yoink!
He pulls out a Craft Essence.
SHADOW SANTA: Hmm, nah, that's not it. It oughta be something that can help me stay out of trouble down the road.
He starts rummaging again, this time pulling out a different CE. He's silent for a moment before perking up again.
SHADOW SANTA: Good enough! I think I can let you off the hook with this!
ALTERA SANTA: H-hey! only one present per person! These are special gifts, I'll have you know!
SHADOW SANTA: Ah, get the stick out of your ass. Who even made that rule anyway? Nothing wrong with taking two or three, long as it's stuff you really want! The problem comes if they start grabbing so much crap they're dropping things all over the place. Doesn't mean you shouldn't get yours while the getting's good!
ALTERA SANTA: R-really...? I thought that Santa Claus never visited greedy children...
SHADOW SANTA: Not too bright, are ya? Anyone who waits for Santa to show up and give them presents is greedy, right? And Santa himself ain't much better, visiting people who don't believe in him.
The gate opens and Shadow Santa begins to disappear.
SHADOW SANTA: Huh, guess that's all it took to open the gate. Not bad, me. Pretty good for something you just made up. Still, there's no way you'll stop the current underworld boss like this. You guys are WAY too by the book here, y'know?
RITSUKA: Tell us more! Who is this "boss"?
SHADOW SANTA: That'd be Ereshkigal, the only boss of the underworld. Who the hell else? Don't you already know her? Welp, looks like this is it for me. Thanks for the present! Just a heads-up, there's a goddess you're familiar with at the next gate. You know, the one who's bright, cheerful, and really into pro wrestling? I bet she'd be willing to fill you in some more. She's a total free spirit, after all. Huh, I guess I ended up doing the whole "leaving you with information before I disappear" bit after all.
20 - Caren II
No signs of people in the plaza.
The house of God stands quiet, no visitors in sight.
...This place stands far away from the world.
Further still from heaven. A place of confession for the lost--
A girl unknown to me is waiting at the church.
Whether it is the first time or the last, it has no meaning here.
She is something that never existed to begin with. She is everywhere and nowhere, just like him.
The flow of time is irrelevant here.
If I'm not mistaken, I am visiting this place for the--
[Second time.]
I start walking toward the church.
Of course, I don't really have any business here. I got all the information I needed last time.
It's obvious that this woman is still hiding something from me, but I don't think she'll tell me anything more than she did last time.
Her help isn't needed to resolve this incident.
SHIROU: ...Really, I have no business here.
I place my hand on the door while grumbling.
There are both good premonitions and bad ones.
Without a doubt, this sudden urge to come here isn't going to be a good one for "me".
The hymn continues.
I take a seat and wait for the end of a long reminiscence.
[The closed garden. The overlapping fingers. The discordant noise.
Old, bitter dreams and weak malice.]
...It's a story from not long ago.
The priest that was here six months ago would rend open the hearts of people with his words and actions.
His methods were indirect, and coercive.
He would seize an opening to trample upon their deep wounds.
That woman is the same as the priest.
Her methods differ, but this music deprives people of their affectations as well.
It's somehow unsettling.
This is most likely an incredible performance, but I can't bring myself to embrace it.
[Alone in untrodden land. Counting the breeze.
This place is far away. Deeper than everything. An empty sky.]
It says, "Rest your mind," and "Let yourself stop moving forward."
It says, "Take a break."
"If you are tired, you should rest your wings here."
...That kind of talk is irresponsible.
Telling someone to rest when they don't have the power to stand in the first place is like telling them to end it altogether.
You must not stop.
You must not seek rest.
Once you've started, you must fill the cup to the brim.
[Abundantly decorated.
Continuing on in circles to fill up every day.
The abyss of slumber before the end, the built temple.]
SHIROU: --, ah...
Her performance was over before I knew it.
I breathe a sigh of relief once I no longer have to listen to that unbearable piece.
CAREN: ........................
And...
Before I knew it, that woman was standing right in front of me.
SHIROU: Hey. Nicely done. It was a good piece.
I lift my head and without standing, begin to applaud.
CAREN: Why, thank you. --You... have an interest in music?
SHIROU: Yeah, I got into it recently. If you investigated me you probably know this already, but I actually don't have a lot of hobbies. I only really started listening to organ music after I met you. Um, how do I put this? I guess, it just goes to show how well you play.
CAREN: ........................
Apparently my blatant flattery paid off as Caren nods, satisfied...
CAREN: --Though you weren't even listening.
...and brazenly complains under her breath.
SHIROU: Geh, you noticed?
CAREN: --
Judging by her reaction, she must find it meaningless to even answer.
Well then. This silence is a bit awkward.
CAREN: ..................
SHIROU: ..................
Somehow, time goes by.
I didn't care about talking with her in the first place, so I'm completely okay even with this unpleasant silence.
I settle into my seat and squint toward the sunrays beaming through the skylights.
CAREN: ......Just to confirm... Didn't you say that you had no further business with me?
SHIROU: Yeah, I did, but this is a church after all. Are you saying I can't come here unless I have business with you?
I immediately respond to her unspirited question.
CAREN: That's right. I cannot refuse those who have lost their way. Then again, you are not exactly a lost lamb.
SHIROU: That's harsh. Can't really argue with it, though. Yeah, I've got nothing I want to confess, so I guess I really have no business with you.
CAREN: ...Then we have nothing in common, do we.
Our conversation ends on that note.
The church fills with silence once again.
She ought to understand my stance here, and yet Caren stands unmoving in front of me.
We haven't got any business with each other, so she could just leave me alone and go back to her room.
CAREN: Don't you have something else to talk about?
SHIROU: Like I already said, no.
CAREN: --
...This is annoying. If we don't talk about something, she'll be standing here like this forever.
SHIROU: Alright. You talk, then.
CAREN: Huh?
SHIROU: Don't give me that. If I've got nothing to talk about, then you just have to fill that gap, right? I've got nothing to talk about, but if you talk, I'll listen.
CAREN: I see. That is quite right. But what should I talk about?
SHIROU: Anything’s fine. When there’s nothing else, things like sharing your background or hobbies make for good topics. Sharing about yourself with others is the foundation of communication.
CAREN: ...That’s… true. But are you alright with something like that?
SHIROU: Sure. If you talk, I’ll listen.
I’m not really interested, but if this woman wants to talk, I can’t stop her.
Besides, no matter what kind of talk it is, it’ll probably be entertaining as long as it’s something I don’t already know.
CAREN: ...Understood. I feel this is unnecessary for you to hear, but there might be something meaningful even in this.
After that, Caren goes silent for a short while.
Probably because she isn’t used to talking about her own history.
She seems to enter a deep meditation while trying to recall her past in silence.
In the end, it was a predictably tedious tale.
She was born in a country in Southern Europe and lost her parents soon after.
Her father was unknown to begin with.
Her mother had a weak constitution and died one year after her birth.
Official records state she was killed by a robber, but in reality she seemed to have taken her own life.
The church treats suicide as a transgression of the Lord’s teachings.
It’s not a mortal sin, but those who have taken their own lives will never pass through the gates of heaven and will suffer eternal torment in purgatory.
--It’s actually a good story.
Her mother was a devout believer that, in the final moments of a painful life, found a purpose great enough to rebel against the Lord.
...However, that purpose her mother found was meaningless to a small child.
No matter how wonderful the meaning she found was for her, it didn’t change the fact that she turned against the teachings of the Lord and left her child behind.
Nobody was left to care for the child.
Her mother had no relatives and her father didn’t come forward.
The prevailing opinion among the people was that her terminally ill mother had birthed a child from an unknown man, like a harlot.
With no relatives, the child was entrusted to the priest of a small church.
Her mother was a believer that took her own life. Her child was placed in the hands of an exemplary, devout priest, who looked with contempt upon the woman who had premarital sex with a passing stranger.
The child was entrusted to the house of God without a single piece of luggage. However, she did have one belonging.
Caren.
Her mother had left her with nothing but a name.
The priest did not give her his family name, instead leaving it the same as the mother who committed suicide.
That name was Ortensia.
It’s the name of a certain flower that blooms on rainy days.
The girl lived with the priest for about eight years.
The priest was filled with love towards the Lord, but shared no love for the child he had taken in.
He was provided funds for her upbringing, yet made her work as a servant of the church instead of sending her to school.
Just by being born, the girl had sinned.
She was not baptized at the time of her birth, and until baptized to welcome her into childhood, she would be given nothing of the Lord’s love.
The priest declared that until then, the human known as Caren could not be recognized as a child of God.
However, it was questionable if this unusually strict priest would be generous enough to baptize an orphan at all.
There were two reasons why the priest did not grant her a proper education.
In order to reduce unnecessary expenses, and to prevent her from gaining knowledge.
Knowledge must not be given to the child of a beast.
That is the first step toward wickedness and more than anything else, it would be inconvenient in various ways if she gained the capacity to think for herself.
After all, defiance and exclaiming harmful truths to the masses would affect the dignity of the house of God.
To “pray” was all the priest permitted her to do.
He instructed her to give herself to God.
This continued for eight years.
Maybe she became used to suffering, or maybe her emotions were broken from birth, like her father’s.
The girl didn’t think of her life as difficult.
She learned of the Lord and of man by watching the priest.
She perfected her innocent prayers over those eight years.
And then came the year when the girl was of age to receive baptism.
Stigmata appeared on her body and the priest accepted his defeat.
He could no longer control her.
He opened the gates of the church that imprisoned her and handed her over to a much larger world.
The fortress-like structure of the monastery was build deep in the forest.
She cut her connections to the outside world and earnestly continued abiding by the teachings of the Lord, in a larger prison.
It was a separate world.
For the men who lived there, it embodied the very virtues of poverty, purity, and meekness that they strode for.
The monastery was a self-sufficient community consisting of devout followers and all necessities for living were made within the monastery.
The followers made their own food and clothing, and as a modest pleasure, a small amount of wine and cheese.
Detailed rules for each monastery are different, but the principles are the same.
There was only labor for living and prayer for the Lord.
Inside the high walls, there was a world of peace and harmony.
To achieve a union with God, they renounced the ways of the world and formed a closed society of the “chosen” faithful.
...Naturally, that lifestyle requires more discipline than at a local church in every aspect.
The girl was accepted by the Cistercian Order.
Among the monasteries, that place had a particularly long history and strict discipline where love of the Lord rivaled even the worth of a person’s life.
To eat, to work, to worship, to choose.
Even those universal rights were not extended to those not loved by the Lord.
By that standard, the girl did not even have basic human rights.
No, her very existence was unforgivable.
It was unthinkable that the venerable Cistercian Order would take an orphaned child into its ranks.
The girl was accepted into the monastery solely because of the stigmata that dwelled within her body.
To spontaneously be wounded, to bleed, and to be healed.
Knowledge of this ordeal is passed down by the faithful -- From the perspective of those believers who live on the other side, it was clear that the girl possessed an unusual power.
When it was recognized that she was an advanced spirit medium -- that she could sense the nearby drifting spirit matter, act as an intermediary and materialize it into this world through her own flesh, the girl’s value skyrocketed.
That unusual ability is not something that can be cultivated with training.
An ability held from birth, it is a genetic predisposition unrelated to the will of the individual.
Such a rarity having high value is only natural.
“Caren Ortensia’s rare talent will achieve unprecedented results in a particular ritual--”
In light of this report, the Holy Church entrusted the young girl to the Cistercian monastery.
But then again…
No matter how valuable she became, the Church never bestowed the Lord’s love to her.
The girl was given a room, an education, and trained as an instrument of the Lord.
She was taught to conduct herself as a perfect believer so that she would not bring shame upon the Church’s name whenever she went outside.
As a general rule, a person who entered the monastery could not live outside of it.
They may move to other monasteries, but being outside of a monastery altogether was not permitted.
However, she was not invited to be a Cistercian Nun.
An agent.
She was delivered only as an armament of the Church for assistance in demon exorcisms.
A weapon is intended to be guided by the hands of man.
She was permitted to leave the monastery only when her unusual talents were required to make known the Lord’s might.
The might of the Lord was not meant to be turned toward humanity.
It should be directed toward the wild ones who do not fear the Lord, the demons that threaten humanity.
To manifest evil, a demon has to take over a human’s body.
To cleanse this person and reveal God’s love to humanity was the task given to the woman, no, to the agent using the woman.
She was employed by an exorcist.
A special priest, one allowed to act as a “representative” from the bishops of the diocese.
They answer calls for aid, visiting the towns of the possessed to exorcise demons.
It was closer to fighting than praying.
Her master frequently said to himself that the work was like washing the bottom of hell’s cauldron.
Exorcisms vary in severity, and the ones her master faced were the particularly intense ones.
They did not concern themselves with imposters who blamed their own mental breakdowns on demons, or with monster outbreaks.
Their opponents were only those who had completely “turned” into demons.
The tragedy caused by a True Demon isn’t something that can be endured by the human mind.
All towns visited by the exorcist had deviated from the world of humans.
The damage inflicted by a demon isn’t limited to the possessed, but also spreads to the people around them.
--More than the possessed person, their spirits, rather than their bodies, are twisted into deformed monstrosities.
As her master would say, it wasn’t far from a tour of hell.
In an exorcism, the weak point that most easily succumbs to death is none other than one’s human reason.
The body’s ability to survive is not that important.
In the first place, the extent of a human’s power cannot compete with the likes of one who has “turned” into a demon.
The physical body is protected by a holy relic embodying the miracle of the Lord.
However, the spirit must be defended by one’s will.
What is required in an exorcism is ironclad faith.
In that respect, too, the woman was suited for exorcism.
It is probably for the best that her emotions shifted so little.
It is said that the exorcism of a True Demon is something that cannot be endured twice, but she continued to perform them indifferently.
The woman was valued highly.
She had the life of a nun and the role as an agent of the church.
The workload assigned to her was nothing short of backbreaking.
It probably would have overcome any normal person within a month’s time.
Although, as far as she was concerned, it was not much different from the daily work she used to do.
For her, who couldn’t really understand things like fun, torture had become indivisible from “work.”
--Pray and work. (Ora et labora)
...It’s ironic. Those words which symbolize the monastery had come to symbolize her own life as well.
Re: 20 - Caren II
CAREN: … Yes, it wouldn’t be wrong to put it that way.
Carent seems to pout a little as she nods.
Whoops. Was she offended that I summed it all up a bit too much?
SHIROU: Ah… What is it? Did that touch a nerve?
CAREN: Yes, that surprised me. It would have been better if I explained it that way from the beginning. May I used that summarized version of yours from now on?
Her admiration and proposal are both sincere.
Whatever, I honestly don’t get this girl at all.
SHIROU: That’s fine, you’re the copyright holder. If you want to use it, then by all means go ahead.
CAREN: Thank you. What you have succinctly stated is very true.
SHIROU: ………………
I’m not sure how to react seeing her act that pleased right after telling such a depressing story.
...Well, somehow I just felt that way.
This woman is actually pleased with having that kind of life up to now.
SHIROU: --Well, that’s fine. Since we’ve gone this far, I might as well hear the whole story. What do you do during an exorcism?
Well, no, it’s not fine.
It’s not, but I want to clarify this part first.
CAREN: I do not do anything. I have not been granted the rites nor sacraments to exorcise a demon. I simply accompany my master.
SHIROU: Huh? You mean you just follow him, that’s all?
What the hell?
Is this guy she’s calling “master” a coward?
Dont’ tell me he was just afraid to go to towns where the possessed were by himself.
CAREN: I will not ask the reason for your sudden indignation, but the conclusion you must have carelessly reached is mistaken. Those who become exorcists do not fear demons. The only thing to fear is the shattering of one’s own mind.
SHIROU: ...Hmm. That’s very impressive, but in that case, he’d be perfectly fine all by himself, right? Wasn’t there no need for him to bring you along? What about that “masochistic pneumatic automatism diathesis” thing you have? If you get close to demons, you’d get the same symptoms as someone who’s possessed, right? In that case, you’d be a nuisance rather than an assistant. It’s like jumping into a fire while covered in gasoline.
CAREN: That is my role. To take spiritual damage. That’s the shortest path to identifying the demons. Demons are not visible to the human eye, it isn’t known that someone is possessed until they transform. Or rather, it’s that True Demons are clever, so they conceal themselves within the possessed. So as to not attract the attention of enemies until reaching maturity, they try to suppress the symptoms as much as possible.
...Unfortunately, the Church has no way to exorcise a demon once fully matured. The only thing exorcists can do is find them before they are grown and exorcise them. Once they have become a demon, we have no choice but to incinerate them. The only ones able to do this are agents that specialize in heretic inquisition.
SHIROU: Ah -- so that’s your purpose.
A sudden emotion destabilizes me.
I feel just a bit disgusted.
Demons can’t be seen by humans. Only the host knows he is possessed.
The first and most difficult step in an exorcism is finding the demon that conceals its true identity.
Even for a skilled exorcist, identifying a demon is like walking on a tightrope at all times.
This is where she is useful.
She has an idiosyncrasy that responds lustfully to the surrounding demons and evil spirits, and causes the effects of the possession on its own.
From the Church’s perspective, it’s an extraordinary “heresy.”
Although it would normally be a useless genetic trait that would be harmful to even let exist, there is one specific purpose for which its radical effectiveness is demonstrated.
In short...
This girl is a living detector that sheds blood to inform others of demons.
It makes a tearing noise.
It breaks her arms, crushes her legs, and rips her womb from the inside.
Even if the form returns, the function does not.
The sight from those dull golden eyes was lost long ago.
This bell-like voice may not even resound in reality.
...These are her true colors.
She is a messenger of God, who saves others by mutilating herself until death.
SHIROU: --So that’s why, I see.
Her “true calling” was well said.
SHIROU: No wonder you were even chosen by the Holy Shroud of Magdala.
It takes some kind of reason to endure such unreasonable pain.
She gives unimaginable pain to herself.
Even if she doesn’t want it, injuring herself is still a masochistic act.
...You cannot injure yourself out of hatred.
Her deeds are not something that can be done without love, or faith.
SHIROU: ...Just asking, but can you refuse? You can’t, right? You would have refused if you could.
CAREN: That is also incorrect. The Church is strict but it is not inhumane. One has the right to refuse participation in an exorcism.
SHIROU: --So why do you bother helping with the exorcisms?
CAREN: Because there is meaning in it. Besides, neither outside nor inside are any different to me.
Going outside to perform exorcisms and being inside the monastery are no different.
...Ah, so that’s it.
I had thought before that she was riddled with bandages and reeked of disinfectant, but it’s no wonder.
A demon stings at the very heart of a human.
No matter where she goes, she can’t avoid getting hurt.
SHIROU: That’s total bullshit. That’s no good reason to take part in exorcisms. Don’t you have even one complaint?
CAREN: I understand that I have a handicap compared to others, but that’s what I was born with. There is no point feeling bitter about it. If I was born this way, I just have to abide by my fate.
SHIROU: What? Haven’t you thought about curing it? If it’s something like a disease, at least do something to improve your health.
CAREN: No cure has been found for it, nor do I wish for one. It is enough just to be able to pity myself over my misfortune. --Besides, although I certainly do become injured, those are not my wounds, but rather those of someone else. It is pity I have, rather than resentment.
Holy shit.
The hell is she talking about?
SHIROU: You’re saying you’re fine like this?
CAREN: Yes. Since I came into the world like this, it is simply the destiny I follow.
She said she’ll take everything as it is. I can’t speak for how someone else might take it. But this kind of thing doesn’t sit well with “me”.
SHIROU: Hey, what do you want out of your life?
CAREN: Is a meaning in life necessary?
SHIROU: No, I wouldn’t worry about something like that. But it’s like you’re living to do nothing. Things like that just piss me off, you know.
Someone had complained about something like this some time or other.
It was--
I don’t like it when people aren’t rewarded for their hard work.
When were those words said?
I wouldn’t call it saintly.
After all, those imposters known as saints don’t try to award results. Because it doesn’t fit the equality they preach, they’d never speak of being rewarded in the end.
That’s why these are nothing but thoughtless words.
It’s not even hypocrisy, but a questionable, naive wish.
CAREN: ...The atmosphere has changed again, hasn’t it? Only a moment ago you were frustrated, but now it’s clear that you are angry.
Apparently she can read my expression even with her eyes closed.
But unfortunately, that’s not quite right.
It’s not that I got angry just now, but that I’m always in a bad mood when I’m here.
SHIROU: Well, whatever. I guess since that’s your policy, there was no need to speak out over every little thing. I don’t like it, but have it your way.
CAREN: --I see. You, Emiya Shirou, are someone who cannot be patient.
She pushes back with a blunt tone.
Is it her turn to be angry now, or did she just return to her usual self?
She looks at me with conceited eyes appropriate for this church.
SHIROU: Um -- What was that?
CAREN: Nothing, really. I know someone very similar to you, so I just compared you with him. Although, he is someone who can be patient. Although you two would not agree on anything, you do have some interesting points in common.
She grins broadly.
I don’t think it’s appropriate for a substitute priest to flaunt her malicious intent.
SHIROU: I don’t understand what you’re saying. There’s nothing I’d have in common with this guy you know, right?
CAREN: Everyone knows except the person themselves, isn’t that how it goes? Emiya Shirou is a good man who kills his own desire and cannot forgive the irrationality of the world. Whereas the other man is a villain who embraces his own desire and ignores the injustice of the world. Even though you are polar opposites, you have far too much in common. ...Hehe. Just like a demon appearing through opposing mirrors.
An unpleasant smile appears on her face.
...I figured out something.
Caren has even less individuality than I do, but she gets excited at the idea of rubbing someone’s weak spot the moment she discovers it.
The troubling part is how effective her nose for this stuff is.
This woman uses her unmatched senses to sniff out the scars of others.
SHIROU: …...So, who’s this “polar opposite” of mine?
CAREN: He is a figure from an old tale. In a certain land, there was a sinner that shouldered the sins of everyone in the land and received punishment for them until his death. He was a very virtuous young man, but he was chosen to be the sinner simply by chance. It was an act carried out by the will of man, but because the people did not directly choose, it might be said to be the will of heaven.
SHIROU: ...The will of heaven, huh? He was imprisoned and abused because of something like that? There’s no doubt he’d hold a grudge against the world.
CAREN: No. The grudge he held only lasted for a few years. In the end he forgave all of mankind. He watched the world change over a long time -- Undoubtedly, he forgave them all.
SHIROU: --So, his hatred didn’t last long? Come on. That’s just what his assailants would like to think, right?
CAREN: That’s likely right. The hatred that has taken root in him can already be called eternal. Hating humans is as natural to him as breathing is to us. That is the kind of entity he’s become. That hatred is no longer an emotion, but a way of life.
Like that, he affirmed everything. “The world deserves to be hated.” “There are an endless variety of humans, so whatever happens can’t be irrational.” “Do as you like, since I will offset the irrationality with hatred.” He forgave many events and the evil desires of the masses, saying, “Even that is fine.”
SHIROU: ………...That’s really amazing. That’s not just a good guy, that’s a saint.
CAREN: Not quite. Sometimes affirming everything becomes the greatest evil. Do you not understand? Forgiving everything is to simplify it all by reasoning that the strong are strong, and the weak are weak.
...Moreover, he praises an individual’s desires. He says, “Do what you think is good for yourself.” Having no concept of good and evil, he simply affirms all things as they are.
“What a troublesome person,” Caren adds.
...That certainly is troublesome.
A mindset like that would end up endorsing crime.
SHIROU: Isn’t that guy bad? You’re a representative of God, so go haul him in before it’s too late. Come on, you can use something like that red cloth. Capture was its specialty.
CAREN: Rest assured, there is no need to capture him. He is indeed a dreadful being, but even leaving him be is probably fine. He is, fundamentally, incompetent and harmless.
SHIROU: …...Didn’t you just say something really cruel?
CAREN: I have simply stated the truth. At any rate, because of his passive nature he is quite lazy. He doesn’t have the initiative to carry out evil acts.
SHIROU: Well, that’s alright then. ...So, where are this guy and I alike?
CAREN: You don’t understand? Really? Despite it simply being a matter of “hating the world despite loving it” or “loving the world despite hating it”? You don’t see that you two, despite being so fundamentally different, merely have the order reversed?
SHIROU: --
“I’m asking because I don’t understand!” Or so I was about to say, but it seemed like a waste of time.
I didn’t come to talk about this sort of thing to begin with.
I just came here on a whim, listening to her talk as she pleased.
I have no obligation to rack my brains over some uncomfortable doubt like this.
SHIROU: Question. Why did we start talking about this?
It’s obvious now that Caren’s switch has been flipped.
This contrived shift in behavior is something I’ve often seen with Tohsaka Rin.
CAREN: I’m surprised. You don’t understand this either? You really are quite thickheaded, aren’t you?
SHIROU: If you mean I’m bad at picking up on others’ feelings, I agree. So? What’s your reason for pissing me off?
CAREN: ...Unbelievable. Very well, I will answer this one. That just now was payback for selfishly examining me.
Examining…?
I haven’t even tried imagining what’s underneath that unfashionable robe of hers, but…
It’s like you’re living to do nothing.
Well, I might have offended her by saying something that was a bit too on the nose.
In any case, I think staying here any longer would be even more uncomfortable.
SHIROU: I’m going home. Go catch some random guy in the park if you want to talk so much.
A simple matter of going Whooosh! with that red cloth of hers.
CAREN: ...As I said, I cannot go outside very often. You don’t have any spare time?
SHIROU: I did until I met you, but now I don’t have time to mess around. You’ve given me an objective for the time being.
“Ah,” Caren responds in comprehension.
That’s right. I’ve figured out my path from here on.
I socialized with her because she’s a valuable source of information, but I should hurry back if there are no more leads.
SHIROU: See you. If I come by again, try to be at least a little more helpful.
CAREN: --I promise. If you have lost your way the next time you come, I will guide you to the correct path. ...In exchange, please tell me one more time. Why do you wish to resolve this anomaly?
SHIROU: Uh-- That’s, well--
…...Then, why is it exactly?
Why am I obsessed with the resolution of this anomaly?
Even though after the fourth day it will be as though nothing ever happened anyway.
SHIROU: --No, that…
CAREN: ...It was a foolish question, wasn’t it. I was the one who said you were an impatient person. For Emiya Shirou, it was only natural to extend a hand to someone in need.
SHIROU: Ah.
With a poof, all doubt vanishes.
Now that she mentions it, that’s right.
Because it was something I didn’t need to think twice about, it probably wasn’t even a reason at all.
...I can’t believe it…
But those are the kinds of thoughts that fill this head of mine.
I stand up to leave.
She looks at me as though she still has something to say.
CAREN: ...Do you dislike this place so much? Or perhaps city life is more stimulating?
SHIROU: --That’s half right. I hate this place, but compared to wandering around town, well, at least it has some new flavor.
They say you’ll get tired of even a feast if you don’t try different foods every now and then.
It’s simply enough to have my everyday normal life to go back to.
Things like excitement and passion can come later, when I’ve forgotten about them.
SHIROU: That’s just how it is, I can’t stomach either you or this place, but I’ll come again if I feel like it. See ya.
I start walking towards my daily life.
CAREN: Is your everyday life fun, Emiya Shirou?
SHIROU: --Who knows? It’s not so intensely fun that I need to give special thanks for it.
I have to confess…
Rather than calling it fun, it’s all so dazzling it’s sometimes a little painful.
I leave that foul church behind.
With the organ’s venom fading, I can finally think straight again.
Caren said it’s only natural for Emiya Shirou to save someone.
SHIROU: ……..Huh?
But still…
Just who am I trying to save…?
summary
-having no conversation topics, he asks her to talk about herself, so she shares her rather sad backstory about being raised in a monastery and starting to work in exorcism due to her unique supernatural tendency to duplicate the effects of possession
-after that, she discusses the differences and similarities between shirou and ~a certain other person~ who is his polar opposite
-(she's talking about avenger)
21 - Childhood's End
It's clear that events of truly epic proportions have taken place here, and still are. A huge monster of obviously female shape is roaring and screaming and trying to destroy everything while a group of heroes attempts to defeat her.
Our view is off to the side, though, away from this battle for the world's future. The Master of those courageous heroes is taking a brief moment to catch their breath and collect their thoughts a safe distance away.
"We're really doing this," they mutter. "They've all really come through! We just need one more push." And, as they turn to the shadow that's been watching these events quietly:
"You're up, Angra."
All along, Doodleman - Avenger Angra Mainyu - has been here, watching, but now he gapes at his Master in disbelief.
"Uh, you might've forgotten in all this excitement, but I'm not exactly your best option? Use some stronger Servant! Better yet, use someone who's actually invested in protecting humanity?"
They shake their head. "Even if you were as weak as you really claim, even if you didn't really care... I still think it needs to be you. I want you to strike the final blow against Tiamat." And, as if in explanation for this bizarre decision, they hold out a flower to him.
He stares at it for a moment, wordless, before giving an exasperated sigh. "Geez, what a pain. Don't come crying to me when I lose, okay?" And he walks across the flowering cavern to fight a Beast.
22 - Palingenesis
What's worse, the same thing keeps happening over and over again until Doodle has received a total of ten cups. It's possible his Master actually likes him a lot?
23 - Ryuudou Ghost Story
KYAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
The ending of an extremely spooky ghost story is interrupted by a number of high-pitched screams in unison. The group of high schoolers is collected at Ryuudou Temple for a camp that is definitely an official school club group training thing and not just an excuse for hanging out. Included are Emiya Shirou, Tohsaka Rin, Matou Sakura, as well as a bunch of comedic minor characters.
They proceed to have fun banter about ghost stories and urban legends, some of which are in fact actually true. As the discussion turns to secrets Shirou can't reveal but doesn't want to lie about, he takes the opportunity to escape by leaving for the bathroom.
In the cool night air outside the guest room, he takes a moment to reflect. It's been six months now since the short period of madness that was the Holy Grail War, and things have more or less gone back to normal. There's no more need for any conflict. The Grail has been destroyed and all the Servants are gone. The dead will not return, and life will continue on.
There is no need for these days to change.
The factors linking them together are almost all there.
Linking a similar tomorrow with yesterday and enjoying the slight changes is the proper way of life for a person.
His thoughts stop, interrupted by the sight of a strange girl passing just at the edge of his field of vision. He doesn't bother following her, though. As he resumes his way to the bathroom, he bumps into someone - it's Caster, who of course lives at the temple. He's very surprised to see her, but isn't quite sure why. Probably just because it was a bit unusual to bump into such a beauty in a temple in the middle of the night.
He returns to the guest room just in time to catch the tail end of another extremely spooky ghost story, this one including an important lesson:
Only the living can revive the dead.
The dead consuming the dead only create more of the same kind, and they cannot bring them back to life.
That gives birth not to a person, but to a flesh-eating monster, and no more.
Heaven's Feel Backnight 1 (inside)
[Avenger sits in a well-decorated, but dusty and dark room. He's sitting with his back to a couch, playing with a little sliding puzzle - moving the pieces around, click, click, click. Throughout the entire memory, he's completely hidden in shadow, but somehow his expressions can be discerned anyway.
There's a woman lying on the couch, slowly awakening as if from a dream. After a few moments, she sits up.
AVENGER: Yo. Finally awake, Master?
BAZETT: Mas...ter...?
AVENGER: Huh? What, are you still half asleep? C'mon, get up. Where'd all that discipline of yours go?
He laughs viciously, eliciting a confused look from Bazett.
BAZETT: Why... am I...?
Avenger furrows his brows and points to the corner of the room, where an old dusty mirror stands.
AVENGER: Take a look for yourself. After all, you can do everything on your own.
BAZETT: ..................
She walks up to the mirror on unsteady feet. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she gives a startled gasp.
AVENGER: You back to normal yet? In that case, time to go a-killin'. It's not our style to lose all the time, eh, Master?
Bazett pauses to mull this over for a moment.
BAZETT: ...Yes, I joined the Holy Grail War as a Master.
She falls quiet again, still looking dazed and confused.
AVENGER: Heeelloo? How long are you planning on spacing out, lady? We don't have all day. Let's go wrap things up.
BAZETT: Are you... my Servant?
AVENGER: Say what?
He stands up and stares at Bazett.
AVENGER: Oh ho -- hey, lady. From the look of ya, I'm going to guess that you're still not ready to fight.
Bazett hesitates, suddenly aware of his hostility.
AVENGER: Hey, your concerned partner's asking you a question. You're supposed to answer.
BAZETT: -Yes, I suppose I should. To be quite honest, my abilities have suffered a decline. There is no hindrance to movement, but my mind is in disarray. In particular, my memory of yesterday is vague.
AVENGER: Your memory's vague? You summoned me, but you don't have a clue 'bout the Holy Grail War or yourself? Cut me some slack, lady! I would have been ten times better off hooking up with a complete rookie!
BAZETT: No, I know very well who I am. I remember summoning you, as well as joining the Holy Grail War as a Master. What is vague is what happened afterwards. For example, I just cannot seem to remember why I was sleeping here.
Avenger's air of suspicion fades, but only slightly.
BAZETT: I will repeat myself. Why was I sleeping here?
AVENGER: How the hell should I know? And you're the one that said you were gonna use this place as a safe house, and you're the one that said you were gonna take a nap because you were tired right after summoning me. Ring a bell?
BAZETT: Yes, I was the one that decided to use this mansion as a safe house. I remember that. And then -- I summoned you.
AVENGER: Right, right. Then you fell right asleep. You just told me your name and said something like "don't do anything until I wake up." Thanks to you I've been sitting here all day. Why do I have to take a backseat when I got called here to do some killing?
BAZETT: Wait. We did not even discuss a basic battle plan?
AVENGER: Nope. Probably didn't need to. You probably already checked out this city beforehand. Other stuff like what the Holy Grail War is supposed to be was knocked into my head the moment I got summoned. The point is just to kill the other Masters faster, better, anyway possible. Don't need no advice on that.
BAZETT: --
AVENGER: Geh. Lady, stop looking at me like that. You're freaking me out. Did I say something that pissed you off?
BAZETT: Yes. It appears that we both lack an understanding of each other. It irritates me that my Servant could be so thoughtless. I am a magus representing the Association abd I have no intention of being the master of a wild animal.
AVENGER: Whatever. ...But if an understanding's what you're after, I think you're wasting your time.
He mutters, averting his eyes.
AVENGER: Okay, I'll listen. What kinda fighting does her highness, the representative of the Association, prefer?
BAZETT: We will conduct matters secretly and avoid pointless battles. First, priority will be given to obtaining information on hostile Masters. After understanding the atmosphere of this Holy Grail War, we will consider the appropriate order of who to defeat first, and then proceed defeating each magus one by one.
AVENGER: Huh? I'm not your errand boy. Master, if you spot an enemy, you kill him. We're all in this killing business together. Once you come across one, you can't get away and you won't let 'em get away.
BAZETT: --Do as I say. The Association exists to conceal the supernatural. We cannot afford to cause a disturbance. Also, an unruly fight will only lead to the deaths of innocent bystanders. It is an absolute condition that we obtain the Holy Grail, but we must avoid involving the civilians of this city.
AVENGER: ...Hmmm, so you're saying we gotta go by methods over means. I can't figure out how, but it's better not to kill in order to win?
BAZETT: This is not to win. I am a magus. If necessary, I will kill. However, as a human being there are minimum standards that should be observed.
AVENGER: Ohhh. Uhhh, that's sorta, how do I put it...
He breathes out unenthusiastically.
AVENGER: ...Lady, how 'bout using a Command Spell? Say something like "don't disobey me." 'Cuz if you don't, I think I might kill you first.
BAZETT: --I refuse. I have never heard of a master being ordered by a dog. Anyone who gets killed by their own dog does not deserve to be called its master. You are my Servant. I am the one that tells you how to move and when you march off to die.
She prepares for battle, clenching her fist and beginning to carve runes into the floor with her heel.
AVENGER: I see. Mmm, okay. Let me try having a change of heart. O-K. I'm your Servant. I'll listen to my owner.
BAZETT: --
AVENGER: Hm? What now? You still got a problem?
BAZETT: N-No. But... Do you really understand what I said?
AVENGER: Yeah. Keep the deaths to a minimum, right? That's your policy, I got it. Anything else? You got something else to say?
Bazett looks hesitant, but shakes her head.
AVENGER: Okay, then let's go. I've seriously gotten sick of being here.
BAZETT: ...I understand. I will make more detailed modifications to our strategy depending on what we encounter.
AVENGER: But, I've got to say this, lady. "Keep the deaths to a minimum," huh? Heheheh. I like the sound of that. Yeah, it'd be great if I could do that.
BAZETT: ...If you still have complaints, say them. If you have any opinions about my strategy, let's settle it here.
AVENGER: I told you, I get the point. I'm not gonna pick a fight with you yet since you're so scary. But look, Master, that's not going to be possible. All this stuff about killing people or getting bystanders involved is beside the point. This town ain't going to last longer than 4 days, no matter how hard you try.
BAZETT: ......What... did you say?
AVENGER: You'll understand when you step outside. What you're getting worked up over stopped mattering a long time ago. The humans living here have been getting wiped out by these mysterious things pouring out daily.
BAZETT: Mysterious things...? Ridiculous. You are just saying nonsense because my memory is...
AVENGER: You'll understand when you step outside. Seeing is believing.
He stifles his laughter, takes Bazett's hand and starts walking.
AVENGER: Come, let's continue the Holy Grail War, Bazett Fraga McRemitz. --To find your wish, this time for sure.