Morning sunlight shone through the temple's windows, scattering warm, gentle patches of light atop the floor.
The bloodshed and chaos of the previous night seemed cleansed by this holy dawn.
At the entrance to the meditation chamber, Matou Kariya leaned against a pillar.
Despite having not slept all night, his mind was calmer than ever.
Inside, he quietly listened to the even breaths of the girl named Sakura, and to the awkward, gentle conversation between her and the boy named Ken.
Under the curse of erased memories, Sakura no longer knew when or how she had arrived.
Scenes like this—peace that the other side could never have dreamed possible.
Steve approached, handing him a cup of water radiating gentle magical power.
"Drink this, it will ease your burden."
Kariya accepted the glass and drank it all in one go.
A pleasant warmth instantly tingled throughout his body; the gnawing pain in his bones was, for once, noticeably lightened.
He looked at Steve, eyes filled with gratitude.
"I honestly... don't know how to thank you."
"No need. It's part of our contract," Steve replied quietly. "But I do have one request: before your soul is transferred, you and your Servant must become this territory's most trusted guardians."
As he spoke, he extended a finger and touched Kariya's brow.
Complex magical runes, like star trails, appeared before him as Steve began an ancient, profound summoning incantation.
No mere trick, but ritual science touching the roots of the soul and contract.
"—Declaration.
Your body is entrusted to me; my fate is entrusted to your sword.
Sever the bond of blood between host and spirit, and anchor the other end upon the dragon-vein of this mountain—"
Borrowing a spell once used by Lord El-Melloi, Steve raised it to new heights.
He would not only provide a new magical supply for Berserker, but forcibly sever and transfer the entire contract, using the vast leyline of Ryuudou Temple as a new "heart."
Kariya groaned; it felt as if the torrent of magical energy that had threatened to consume him was rapidly siphoned away.
The crest worms crawling under his skin also seemed to settle.
The crushing burden felt lifted, his breaths coming easier.
He stared in shock at his own recovering hands, feeling peace he had long forgotten.
"Like this, you need only sustain the bare minimum of the contract for Berserker. The leyline will handle the rest," Steve finished, drawing back his hand.
"Rest at ease. Archer and I have to step out for a while."
Kariya immediately understood, nodding solemnly.
"Don't worry. As long as I draw breath, no one will trespass here."
Satisfied, Steve turned; a small red figure was already waiting at the door.
The younger Red Archer—the Heroic Spirit EMIYA—was clad in black, expression serious beyond his apparent years.
He knew where they were headed, and what they would face.
"Ready?"
"…Yeah," the young Red Archer replied, an odd look in his eyes. "Though it still feels like we're waltzing right into a trap."
"You can only work miracles by first stepping into the places people call hopeless."
Leaving only those words, the two became twin rays of light, racing from Ryuudou Temple toward the fateful forest outside Fuyuki.
…
The Einzbern Castle, nestled in the heart of an isolated, vast forest, served not only as the Saber faction's base, but also the hunting ground meticulously prepared by assassin-magus Emiya Kiritsugu.
Landing on the forest's edge, the young Red Archer's expression grew ever more grim.
"Caster—something's changed with the barriers."
"They're not like what our scouting telescope saw last night. The air... smells of gunpowder and steel."
"Looks like our hosts have quite the welcoming party waiting," Steve observed, stepping into the boundary field.
Buzz.
For an instant, the scene warped.
The towering ancient trees seemed to come alive, their shadows twisting into grotesque ghosts.
The snow beneath their feet turned into a bottomless bog; the air filled with intoxicating sweetness.
This was a complex illusionary barrier, designed to drive normal magi insane, drain their magical power, and kill them through hallucinations.
"Child's play," muttered Steve, pressing on. Starlight shimmered around him, and any approaching illusion simply dissipated like snow on contact.
The ground beneath his feet remained firm as ever.
"Archer, stay close to me."
"You don't have to tell me!"
With a low shout, young Red Archer's eyes, honed by countless trials, shone brightly.
His "insight" easily pierced through enchantment, sensing true menace lurking within.
"Three o'clock, right ahead—buried twenty centimeters underground, a claymore mine!
Left, behind that tree—a sensor trap linked to high-voltage wires!
And above—!"
Before he could finish, a silent, lethal round—bearing no magical signature—shot from a distant sniper nest.
It was a specially-made anti-magic bullet, capable of piercing tank armor.
Emiya Kiritsugu launched his attack, unseen.
Archer reacted at lightning speed, instantly deploying a small, golden Noble Phantasm shield.
The lethal bullet struck, scattering blinding sparks before being feebly deflected.
But this was only the beginning.
As if the shot were a signal, the whole forest came alive.
Countless automatic machine-gun turrets emerged from the snow, weaving an impenetrable web of fire.
This was no battle between magi—only a one-sided modern slaughter.
"So this is… that man's way of fighting?"
Archer grit his teeth, maintaining the shield.
He could well imagine that an average Master setting foot here without preparation would be shredded to pieces by this onslaught.
"It's certainly very efficient," Steve acknowledged fairly. "But no plan, however clever, matters before absolute power."
With a snap of his fingers, a vast, unseen will radiated outward—not to destroy, but to control.
All at once, Steve took command of every "unnatural" object—steel, gunpowder, wires—within the forest.
The turrets raised their barrels and fired skyward; every trap fell eerily silent.
Steve strode forward, and the entire death-forest parted for his passage.
Young Archer watched, aghast, as the Noble Phantasm dematerialized.
He'd known this man was strong—but this kind of god-like power to make reality itself comply went beyond even his wildest imaginings.
At last, passing through the devastated kill-zone, the ancient grandeur of Einzbern Castle loomed before them.
Two figures waited in the castle plaza.
One, clad in silver-blue armor, golden hair waving in the wind, held a sword invisible to sight; her emerald gaze was vigilant—the Servant Saber, Artoria Pendragon.
The other, dressed in a sumptuous white gown, her moonlit silver hair and ruby eyes radiating unearthly beauty—was Irisviel von Einzbern.
"Who goes there!"
Saber pointed her unseen sword at them, voice sharp.
"Why have you trespassed on Einzbern land!"
Steve halted, stopping at a safe distance, smiling gently.
"Saber, and Lady Einzbern—please understand, we haven't come to fight."
"Last night, your Caster team absorbed Berserker, and now you invade our territory," Saber accused coldly.
"That doesn't sound like you come in peace."
"It was not absorption, but 'salvation,'" Steve corrected gently. "Today, I'm here to propose a plan to save all of us."
The statement stunned Saber and Irisviel.
Is there truly a way to save everyone in this war?
Right then, Irisviel's gaze passed Steve and fell on the small figure behind him.
Seeing Archer's youthful, but hauntingly familiar face, her ruby pupils shrank.
She was seized by a feeling beyond words, vibrating to the depths of her soul—not just love or pain, but a mother's heartache for a long-lost child.
Saber noticed Irisviel's reaction and traced her view—a boy, with rare short white hair and tanned skin, contradiction visible in his eyes.
His gaze bore a child's innocence and an exhaustion far beyond his years, as though he'd witnessed countless battlefields.
In his eyes, she saw the same flame as the ideal her husband pursued.
"You..."
Irisviel's voice trembled as she involuntarily stepped forward, staring at the child.
"Have we… met before?"
…