"Your assistant was experienced with firearms, a competent human fighter. But against a magus, she likely never imagined I'd resort to something as 'heretical' as explosives."
The dual path of magecraft and technology. In that regard, Emiya Kiritsugu was the true expert. Most magi would never stoop to such methods.
But what was wrong with borrowing from modern science once in a while?
With that experimental mindset, Kirei had used "Irisviel" as bait and laid his trap.
"You truly are someone who must be eliminated."
Suppressing the agony in his chest, Kiritsugu's gaze steadied. His voice was heavy.
He would not think about Maiya and Irisviel's fate. Not now.
Right now, he had to survive this encounter.
Saber's scabbard had been taken, its current whereabouts unknown but likely in Kirei's possession. If so, even a normally "lethal" injury wouldn't kill the priest.
The more he considered it, the more dangerous Kotomine Kirei became.
A mind as meticulous as his own, methods equally unbound by convention.
A kindred spirit, of the worst possible kind.
If Kirei wasn't dealt with here, he would become an endlessly growing threat.
'Assassin is losing ground and can't assist. If I exploit the moment Kirei uses magecraft, the Origin Bullet could cripple him.'
But the scabbard's miraculous healing made even that uncertain. Simply wounding or maiming was meaningless for Kiritsugu.
Whether Kirei had actually implanted the scabbard in his own body remained unconfirmed. That intelligence was critical and would dictate all subsequent plans.
'I'll have to probe first.'
Settling on that course, Kiritsugu decided to test with regular bullets. If the wounds healed on their own, the scabbard was confirmed inside Kirei.
Bang!
"Ahahahaha!!"
"Fascinating. Such a rapid transformation. Did you learn something from Assassin?"
Gilgamesh, as Archer, had watched the entire spectacle unfold. Kirei's actions had piqued genuine interest.
A priest who claimed to desire nothing was now reaching for something he had always restrained himself from touching.
The first cracks of moral decay.
This mongrel Kirei was quite the entertainer.
"And it seems some fools intend to intervene in this battle."
"Perfect timing. It's about time this King made his entrance."
"Let these mongrels witness supreme majesty."
Without the slightest intention of consulting his Master, Tokiomi, Gilgamesh vanished from his golden-armored perch.
"Mm..."
In his underground workshop, Tokiomi's expression stiffened. He glanced at the Command Spells on his hand, hesitating.
That King had acted unilaterally more than once or twice. Every attempt at communication had ended in failure.
The King's assessment of him could be summed up as:
A tedious and boring subject!
Low EQ notwithstanding, even Tokiomi recognized he'd left a rather unflattering impression.
"Fine..."
"As long as he doesn't go too far, letting him indulge himself won't hurt."
Three Command Spells, none used. He needed to keep them in reserve.
Considering the support from Kotomine Risei, perhaps it was time to prepare more seriously.
"And the Matou family's Master has yet to make a single move."
The letter he'd sent went unanswered. Tokiomi frowned, unable to read their stance.
From Kirei's report: "Their Servant is Berserker, but identity cannot be determined."
Based on that intelligence, he'd sent a letter via familiar, ostensibly to probe for an alliance. Yet the other side hadn't even acknowledged it?
Given the Matou and Tohsaka families' history, this dismissive "arrogance" didn't resemble Matou Zouken's style at all.
"Is there a particular reason?"
Harboring that suspicion, he had no choice but to dispatch another familiar to investigate.
Matou Kariya carried shopping bags through the streets, watching Berserker, freshly finished with some task, stride alongside him. He'd grown accustomed to this.
In modern clothing, the Berserker looked the part of an eagerly helpful "good Samaritan."
He pushed stalled cars, found lost belongings, played with children and the elderly.
This Servant, whose armor radiated pure malevolence, turned out to be the complete opposite on the inside.
He never once spoke, yet was somehow immensely popular.
Among the gathered children and elderly, a red-haired boy gazed up at him, eyes shining.
"Hey, mister, can I borrow this book for a bit?"
"I haven't finished the story yet. I'll read it tonight and return it tomorrow."
Holding up the thick bound volume, the red-haired boy asked excitedly.
[Heavensward Memoir]
A detailed chronicle of a certain hero's journey. The boy had been engrossed.
"..."
"Awesome!"
A nod was all it took, and the child beamed.
"Berserker, if we're too late getting back, Sakura will be angry."
Watching the towering figure walk away, the boy's heart brimmed with admiration.
An adult who tirelessly helped others and seemed capable of anything. In his young eyes, it was the coolest thing in the world.
"Are you sure about lending that book?"
"I thought Sakura was pretty into it too."
Having observed the exchange, Kariya raised the concern.
But a shake of the head from Berserker settled the matter. No further explanation needed.
They arrived home to find a purple-haired girl waiting at the gate, cheeks puffed in displeasure.
Kariya smiled weakly, already bracing for the inevitable scolding.
But the next moment, his attention was seized as Sakura pulled a large orb from her dress pocket. The stars within it glowed.
Kariya knew what it was. The prize all participants in this war were fighting over.
So why was Sakura presenting it now?
"Berserker."
"I've decided. I'm entering this war."
"Wh... why? Sakura?"
Her solemn declaration left Kariya stunned. Until now, she'd shown no intention of getting involved. What changed?
"The war will end eventually. And when it does..."
"You'll disappear, won't you?"
"So I need to seize the other Dragon Balls..."
Young as she was, the depth of desire she harbored was unfathomable. Her honesty was disarming.
Even Kariya could sense this girl's true feelings.
"You'll help me, won't you? Berserker?"
A faint smile graced Matou Sakura's face as she whispered.
"..."
He made a motion like a sigh, and yet, as though glimpsing someone's silhouette in her, Berserker did not refuse.
He had answered Sakura's desparate plea in the first place. That was why he was here.
Whether or not the Dragon Balls and wishes mattered was secondary. For him, if a wish were truly to be granted, it might simply be to restore every life lost in the apocalypse he had survived.
"Go and fight, Berserker!"
The Master's order was given. Black armor materialized across his frame.
His massive silhouette vanished.
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]