"Right now?"
Kiritsugu Emiya looked toward Anthony, his expression carrying a trace of uncertainty.
"You aren't ready to meet her yet?"
Anthony immediately asked, and at that, Kiritsugu's expression stiffened slightly, a helpless look crossing his face.
Which was only natural.
Having read through the plot summary Anthony had sent him, even though he had long anticipated this, Kiritsugu found himself gripped by a wave of complicated emotions.
Illya had become the Lesser Grail — and on top of that, she harbored a deep, abiding hatred for him, a hatred that had even extended, at least in part, to Shirou in the beginning.
He understood clearly enough that there were misunderstandings at the root of it all — but when it came to untangling those misunderstandings, Kiritsugu could hardly call himself skilled. Especially not now, weighed down as he was by profound guilt.
Of course, there was another, more important problem on top of that.
Every time he thought about that one particular route in the plot Anthony had sent him — the name Illya called Shirou Emiya, and the feelings she held for him by the end…
Kiritsugu Emiya felt a wave of crawling unease wash over him.
And he felt even less willing to face whatever reality might be waiting for them.
Moreover, he still had other concerns.
"The problem of Illya serving as the Lesser Grail — how is that supposed to be resolved?"
He furrowed his brow, looked toward Anthony, and posed the question.
"Ah, you mean the part where the Lesser Grail collects souls in order to summon the Greater Grail — that part, right?"
Hearing Kiritsugu's question, Anthony understood at once, and then gave a light wave of his hand.
"Don't worry, that problem can absolutely be solved. If I'm the one who brought up finding Illya first, then I've already got a way."
In the original work, Illya, serving as the Lesser Grail whose function was to absorb the souls of Servants, would lose her bodily functions once she had absorbed too many. Even if she ultimately completed the summoning of the Greater Grail, she likely wouldn't have much time left afterward.
For Kiritsugu, that was probably his deepest worry.
As for Anthony — he would say: how hard could it be?
You should at least trust a Forgemaster — especially one whose Origin Furnace had already reached the third tier.
A tier advancement in the Origin Furnace was never something as simple as merely unlocking a few blueprints or expanding the furnace's capacity.
In truth, what mattered far more was the deepening of the Forgemaster's own understanding.
Ever since arriving in the Nasuverse, Anthony had clearly felt that the vast majority of things in this world were, under his gaze, solvable. Comprehensible, interpretable, analyzable. And the end result of that was that they fell within the Forgemaster's range of sight — becoming subjects fit for reforging and reconstruction.
That was the efficacy a third-tier Forgemaster brought to bear. Even among Forgemasters, it could already be called a mark of standing.
Once he finished rebuilding the Underworld and raised the Origin Furnace to the fourth tier, his vision would reach even further still.
By that point, perhaps even an entire world could fall within the scope of analysis and reforging.
As for a fifth-tier Forgemaster — Anthony still had no idea what that highest level would look like.
But he still remembered the sensation he had felt during his very first act of forging: that glimpse of the "Grand Power of the Forgemaster."
Setting aside the wandering currents of his thoughts, Anthony looked at Kiritsugu and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Anyway — relax."
Anthony said lightly: "I've got everything covered."
"That said — considering that once you show your face things might get a little awkward, we may need to rethink our approach."
Then, Anthony turned to look at Kiritsugu and suddenly said this.
He couldn't help it — based on his read of the situation, he was genuinely a bit worried that if Kiritsugu walked in right off the bat, the very first thing Illya might do would be to sic the Berserker on him for a couple of good punches.
To prevent the situation from deteriorating as badly as possible on all fronts, it would be better to neutralize Illya's group's combat strength first.
With that in mind, Anthony finally turned to look at Shirou Emiya.
And then, a delighted smile spread across his face.
For some reason, upon seeing that smile, Shirou Emiya's expression went blank for a moment — and then, inexplicably, a bad feeling began to rise within him.
Honestly, he still hadn't figured out what the two of them had been talking about.
But before Shirou Emiya could get a word in edgewise, Anthony spoke first:
"Ahem — Shirou, come here, come over to your Uncle Prometheus."
Anthony smiled and beckoned toward Shirou Emiya:
"Remember that little girl you caught a glimpse of a while back? The one with white hair and red eyes."
White hair, red eyes?
In an instant, the image of that girl surfaced in Shirou Emiya's mind.
"She's also a participant in the Holy Grail War?"
The next moment, Shirou caught on and blurted it out, finally beginning to understand some of what the two of them had been discussing.
Then he watched the look of warm satisfaction on Anthony's face, and received the second half of Anthony's sentence:
"That's right — and strictly speaking, she could also be called your sister."
Shirou Emiya: ?
"Wait, wait — sister?!"
Shirou pointed at himself and asked in utter bewilderment, and at that, the amusement in the corners of Anthony's eyes seemed to deepen even further. He gave a small nod and continued:
"That's right. And it's not by blood, either."
"Mm. She's a child who's really starved for affection — doesn't that get you thinking a little?"
Anthony blinked and said this, then, sensing Kiritsugu's gaze from the side, he smiled and gently steered the conversation away from the subject.
"Alright, I won't say any more about that for now — after all, the sibling relationship between you two is still pretty unstable at this point."
Anthony rubbed his chin and said: "But the people you're going to be fighting next are them. Illya and Berserker."
"Me?"
"That's right — you. Kiritsugu can't step in, or things could get a bit out of hand."
Anthony gave a slight nod. "Illya's own combat ability can be set aside for now — which means your actual opponent is Berserker. Heracles."
"I'm supposed to fight him?!"
The moment that name left Anthony's mouth, Shirou Emiya was completely dumbstruck.
Having already gotten the most basic understanding of the Holy Grail War, the look he fixed on Anthony was tinged with genuine bewilderment.
Hold on, seriously?
In a situation like this, in the Holy Grail War, wasn't it normally Servants who fought Servants?
How had it come to the point where he was supposed to deal with Heracles?
Was the Holy Grail War really supposed to work like this?!
He was just a regular high school student who happened to know a bit of magecraft!
"Are you really sure it'll be okay? That's a hero out of legend — summoned as a Heroic Spirit, that kind of existence should be incredibly difficult to handle."
For a moment, Shirou Emiya looked at Anthony and asked hesitantly:
"Can I actually pull this off?"
"On that point, you can set your mind at ease."
Anthony said simply:
"Because Heracles, honestly? He's nothing much."
If it were the Archer version, Anthony might genuinely have to think harder about arranging some additional support for Shirou.
But unfortunately, what was here today was the Berserker version.
So Anthony would only say: Heracles is nothing much.
The milk-sea heaven-poison had finally acted up. But more to the point — Berserker's actual performance was genuinely bizarre.
What did it even mean to have twelve lives without a health-lock, such that a single strike could cost him nine of them?
Anthony felt like he himself couldn't even begin to wrap his head around it — but since it had happened, he had every reason to believe Shirou Emiya could pull it off.
"Besides, don't get too comfortable yet. You've still got Gilgamesh to face afterward."
And so Anthony clapped Shirou on the shoulder and said meaningfully: "You have to believe in your own potential!"
"Do I really have that much potential worth believing in?"
Shirou's eye twitched slightly. He felt like a character in a video game — someone who'd just been told, this is offense, this is defense, and then had a great big thing pointed out to him up ahead, with someone saying, that's the world-ending final boss, now go cut it down.
Had they not skipped a whole lot of grinding-small-fry-for-experience-points somewhere in between?
But very shortly, Shirou Emiya caught sight of the pane of glass Anthony had produced, and his gaze was immediately drawn to it.
And then, upon its mirror-like surface, vivid cascades of color began to bloom.
And at last, Anthony's unhurried voice rose:
"Even if you can't believe in yourself — you can still believe in your future, can't you?"
And so, with a brilliant smile on his face, he let the glass pane begin to display the dazzling spread of possibilities belonging uniquely to Shirou Emiya.
And then it went further still — projecting out the many possibilities of "swords" that had no direct connection to Shirou Emiya himself, but that Anthony, as a Forgemaster, had witnessed.
Shirou gazed at those unfolding possibilities, his focus fixed on each unfamiliar blade — and yet, under the piercingly discerning eye of Anthony the Forgemaster, every blade appeared in such meticulous detail that a single glance was enough to grasp it completely.
And at the same time, from among those varied selves spread across so many diverging possibilities, he found something — a faint call.
As though, with just the slightest effort, he could make any one of those selves into reality.
And so, in that moment, Anthony smiled softly and asked:
"Well then?"
"Do you have the nerve, now, to face your first real battle after formally entering the Holy Grail War?"
In the dead of night, the Emiya residence had already been vacated entirely — so much so that a certain young lady of the Tohsaka household arrived to find no one home.
The gears of fate began, from this point, to slip off their rails.
Meanwhile, at the gates of the church, Illya sat perched on Heracles' shoulders, idly lost in thought.
"Do you think big brother will come to find Illya?"
Suddenly, Illya spoke toward Heracles. From Heracles' throat came a low, indistinct rumble of syllables — and then Illya lifted her head.
She seemed to have heard something — a sound, coming from a distance.
"Ah — big brother will probably come sooner or later, won't he?"
All at once, a look of quiet understanding crossed Illya's face, and she began to murmur to herself, swinging her legs:
"After all — if he still hasn't shown up by now, it means he ultimately failed to summon a Heroic Spirit."
"And at this point in time, if he still hasn't managed to summon a Heroic Spirit — he'd die, you know."
In that moment, an ambiguous smile played on Illya's face, while from Heracles' throat rose a low, indistinct murmur, impossible to make out.
But the sound at the edge of her hearing grew gradually clearer — like the roar of a furnace.
For a moment, Illya lowered her gaze:
"Berserker — is that you?"
But the sound kept drawing closer — and so, at last, Illya looked out toward the distance.
And then, immediately after, she saw two figures walking as if from the very edge of the horizon.
It was Shirou Emiya.
And beside him, drifting along — that strange figure. Was it a Heroic Spirit? Why would he summon such a peculiar Heroic Spirit?
A flicker of something strange passed across Illya's expression — but the next instant she decided not to dwell on that particular question, and instead let a bright, radiant smile bloom across her face.
Then she looked down, and spoke softly, as though to Heracles:
"See — big brother really did come after all."
"Illya knew he would."
There was no response. And so Illya slowly climbed down from Heracles' shoulders, watching from a distance as Shirou Emiya approached the church.
And then, all of a sudden, she heard Shirou Emiya's shout:
"Illya!"
In that instant, Illya froze. A look of startlement and confusion crossed her face.
How did he know her name? And her location, even?
This shouldn't be right. They were supposed to be the ones lying in ambush at the church — and yet without making a single move, their position had already been exposed?
How could something like that possibly happen in this world!
But what on earth had led to the exposure?
Yet in the very next moment — before Illya even had a chance to react — Heracles had already moved first.
He stepped forward, planting himself in front of Illya, his gaze fixed on the Heroic Spirit in the distance, as though facing a formidable enemy.
At this moment, the Spirit Origin Anthony had fabricated as a Forgemaster was emanating a certain fluctuation — one that filled Heracles with a powerful sense of unease and threat.
And then, in that same instant, Shirou Emiya had already stridden forward — and quietly come to a stop in front of Illya, looking across the distance at her.
At this moment, the two of them were separated by no more than ten-odd meters. Extraordinarily close.
Illya looked at Shirou Emiya, and for a fleeting instant a complicated expression crossed her face — but in the end, it resolved into a smile.
"Big brother — have you come to find Illya?"
"It looks like big brother has already summoned a Heroic Spirit. So — do you understand the Holy Grail War now?"
"Mm, yes — I understand it now."
Shirou Emiya let out a soft breath and said this, watching Illya, seeming to weigh his words carefully.
"What a shame — Illya was originally planning to ambush big brother, but it looks like I was found out."
"Could you tell Illya how you managed that?"
Illya blinked and asked Shirou this, as though they were still in the middle of ordinary small talk.
And so Shirou hesitated slightly and looked up — only to receive a look from Anthony that said: don't worry about it, just go ahead and say what you want, I've got this covered.
And so, in that moment, Shirou Emiya's heart settled.
Even if he casually revealed Anthony's information — he didn't mind. Or rather, Anthony had never minded.
It was this person who told me.
And so Shirou Emiya simply said it outright, while seemingly still turning something else over in his mind.
And a brief look of understanding crossed Illya's face:
"Ah — so it was big brother's Heroic Spirit. Mm. If he's the seventh participant's — then what class is he? If he were a Saber, there should be a sword, shouldn't there?"
Looking at Anthony standing there empty-handed, Illya seemed to sink into thought for a moment. But the next instant, she heard a sudden, abrupt statement from Shirou Emiya:
"You're Illya, right?"
He looked at Illya and said softly: "This gentleman told me about you."
"I know everything now."
In that instant, Illya's expression faltered again — she seemed to feel something like surprise.
But before she could form any further reaction, she heard Shirou Emiya's next words:
"And — I know about the situation between you and Kiritsugu."
Silence. A moment of complete silence.
Except for Anthony, who seemed as unhurried and at-loose-ends as ever, the atmosphere between Illya and Shirou Emiya seemed to plunge in an instant to absolute zero.
Even the indistinct syllables rumbling from Heracles' throat seemed to grow gradually clearer.
As though intoning a hymn of slaughter.
At last, Illya maintained an expression that looked like a strained smile and said:
"Ah — big brother means him?"
"Although I have no idea why big brother's Heroic Spirit would know something like that — if it's about him, I don't really mind, actually."
"Kiritsugu has been hoping to see you for a long time."
Shirou seemed to hesitate for a moment — and then, suddenly, continued:
"A long time."
And so, the atmosphere Illya had managed to prop up with such effort crumbled once more.
Illya lowered her gaze slightly.
He had been hoping to see her for a long time?
Why was he only telling her this now?
Then — why had he never come, all those years before?
For the little girl whose mind had been frozen forever at nine years old, the only things that lived in her memory were Kiritsugu Emiya's disappearance — and the endless misfortune his disappearance had brought.
And now, suddenly, he wanted to say these words?
The smile on Illya's face seemed to droop — and finally, she let out a sigh.
"Is that so."
At last, Illya murmured softly, and then — finally — pulled a bright, vivid smile across her face.
"I was originally planning to play with big brother a little longer. After all — once he's dead, the only family Illya will have left is big brother."
Illya placed particular, deliberate emphasis on the word "family."
And then her next words arrived:
"Well then — big brother. No. Shirou Emiya."
"Since you say he has been hoping to see me for a long time — do you know whether I want to see him right now?"
Illya tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and all at once the warmth drained from her expression. She turned directly to Heracles and gave the order:
"Berserker — go and fight."
A howl and a roar split the air.
Heracles — the mightiest demi-god hero of Greece!
Even driven to such a state of Mad Enhancement, she had never worried about him for even a moment. Illya turned away — but looked back one last time at Shirou Emiya.
Hatred. A hatred that had long existed, now finally breaking through the surface of its disguise — or rather, escaping the very last thread of longing for familial connection.
Then — let it be done as the Holy Grail War demands it be done.
And so, every drop of merciless hatred toward Kiritsugu Emiya was unleashed upon his final adopted son — Shirou Emiya.
As Heracles charged forward, Shirou Emiya's expression seemed to go suddenly taut, and he glanced back toward Anthony.
And so Anthony let out a sigh, and behind him, the Origin Furnace let out a roaring boom.
Just as Illya assumed that the mysterious Heroic Spirit was finally about to make his move — she saw Anthony simply reach into the Furnace with one hand, and then toss out a…
Scabbard?
Shirou Emiya caught the Avalon Anthony had thrown him, looked up, and met Anthony's eyes.
"Take it. I've made some modifications — just cast a Projection into it."
Anthony glanced at Shirou and said calmly:
"As long as you cast a Projection into it, any sword you've seen through the glass pane has a chance of manifesting from within. The specifics are up to luck — but nothing weak will come out."
Ever since ownership of Avalon had passed to Anthony, he had spent every waking and sleeping hour over these past days refining the thing through the Furnace.
Until, by the end, the thing had quite literally taken on Anthony's shape.
And so Anthony thought it over, and simply went ahead and calibrated the thing for Shirou Emiya.
As for the magical energy that Projection would consume, and the physical strength needed to wield whatever came out — those weren't things to worry about either.
Anthony reached out and grabbed the glass pane, and turned it toward Shirou Emiya.
Instantly, with an influx of points, and this time without even needing Carmen's assistance, Shirou Emiya felt it almost immediately — the arrival of a certain power.
Possibility Coverage!
In that instant, his hair turned white, and Shirou Emiya opened his eyes once more — as though he had already lived through a hundred battles.
And so, in that moment, when Illya looked back — what she saw was a sight she would never forget for the rest of her life.
What did it mean that the one charging toward Heracles was Shirou Emiya — and not the Heroic Spirit?
What was this group thinking? Had their brains rusted over?
But there was no longer any space left for Illya to think about it.
When she looked around, Anthony's figure was already nowhere to be found. The entire battlefield seemed to contain no one — only Shirou Emiya and Heracles.
And so, in that moment, Shirou Emiya raised his head, let out a long breath, and seemed to shed every last trace of tension.
And then — Projection begins!
"Trace on!"
With the incantation spoken, Avalon blazed with brilliant light. Shirou Emiya closed his eyes — and then, in the next instant, violently wrenched free the sword hilt that had appeared within the Avalon in his hands.
And in that moment, from within the scabbard, a great crimson blade emerged.
The blade bore an eyeball upon it, and grotesque blood vessels seemed to pulse and throb across its surface. The edge carried a terrible keenness — as though it hungered to choose its prey and devour them whole.
Merely staring at it made the heart seize and the flesh go cold.
And so, in that moment, Shirou Emiya — holding this blade projected forth from infinite possibility — suddenly understood with perfect clarity the martial arts contained within the sword.
All at once, a rush of wind sounded. In a roar of fury, Heracles flung himself at Shirou Emiya — his enormously powerful fists tearing through the air and hammering down!
Only Illya stared at that blade, inwardly puzzled.
What a strange weapon.
But in the very next instant, her eyes went wide — because Heracles' overwhelmingly powerful strike had been evaded.
No — it wasn't merely evaded.
When Shirou Emiya opened his eyes, he had dodged the attack almost entirely on instinct — lightly, deftly, with complete ease. Even his speed seemed to have been enormously amplified by the enhancement of those martial arts.
And then, the techniques of one named the mightiest of men drove Shirou Emiya into his next counterattack!
He raised the blade and brought it down — vertically — onto Heracles' arm:
"Blood mist… spreads!"
Clang!
A clear, crisp sound, like a blade singing as it vibrated — resonating with extraordinary clarity and brightness in that instant, proclaiming just how razor-keen that sword truly was.
And demonstrating just how devastating the destructive force of that single strike had been.
In an instant, Heracles' arm erupted like a mist of blood, and an enraged howl tore through the air. Illya stared in wide-eyed shock.
Heracles had lost one life.
And the stunned were not only Illya.
There was also a large crowd of people in Anthony's livestream — Carmen especially.
Ever since Kiritsugu's resurrection, the livestream had never gone dark, and now, watching Shirou Emiya's performance, the group chat flashed past with a string of question marks.
Not aimed at Shirou Emiya, of course — but at Anthony.
[AAA City Ghost: ???]
[AAA City Ghost: Hold on mate, when did you freeload the Mimicry off her? The way this thing looks — isn't this basically the prototype from Kali's hands?!]
[AAA City Ghost: No, how did I not know about this? Huh?? Damn you Anthony, what have you done this time!]
[AAA City Ghost: He's using all of Kali's moves!!]
[Sovereign of the White Holy Seat: Don't be so quick to roast me — what does this have to do with me? This is all Shirou's own hard work and sweat.]
[Yellow Flash of the Leaf: Where's the sweat? Where's the hard work?]
[Sovereign of the White Holy Seat: Ahem, I genuinely don't know — the glass pane just wouldn't put the brakes on, so go argue with the utility meter spinning backwards, I thought there was a speed bump, we're all out here living our best lives, anyway Shirou gave it his all.]
[Sovereign of the White Holy Seat: That Avalon got magically overhauled by me — toss a Projection into it and pretty much any sword has a chance of popping out.]
[AAA City Ghost: Any sword?! How wide is that range exactly?]
[Sovereign of the White Holy Seat: Ah, well, about that — I genuinely couldn't say.]
[Sovereign of the White Holy Seat: Honestly, even I have no idea what he'll project next — but it's fine, his meter's spinning backwards.]
[Sovereign of the White Holy Seat: If he's short on magical energy, worst case I'll top him up with points.]
[Xin Sijifuyin Warrior: Just come out and say it — is every single sword you've ever seen in there?]
[Sovereign of the White Holy Seat: Obviously.]
[Sovereign of the White Holy Seat: Even the relevant information I fished out of the Primordial River — I found a way to stuff that in there too. Whether it can actually be projected out is up to Shirou.]
[Xin Sijifuyin Warrior: I suddenly have a very bad feeling about this.]
[Grand Flame Wordsmith: Same.]
[AAA City Ghost: It hasn't even been that long since we last saw each other.]
[AAA City Ghost: How have you already stirred up something this catastrophically massive?]
Selectively ignoring Carmen's final words, Anthony's gaze returned once more to the battle unfolding before him.
At the same time, his figure slowly materialized out of the soul-concealment, and while Illya was still reeling in shock, he stepped around behind her.
Then, lightly patted her on the head.
In that instant, Illya spun around sharply — and found herself looking at Anthony doing exactly that. For a moment, she was thoroughly bewildered.
Hold on — which one of you two is the Heroic Spirit and which is the Master? How does this work? Why is the Heroic Spirit here fighting with the Master instead of with the enemy Heroic Spirit?
But he didn't look like he had come here to fight. He was simply looking at Illya — grinning — and said:
"Do you remember me? When you were little, I even held you in my arms."
For a moment Illya's expression grew even more confused — but feeling the aura that radiated from him, naturally regal as only a sovereign could be, she found herself unable to speak.
This — was the true Lord of the Underworld.
Even with the Underworld in ruins, even separated by ten thousand li — the lord of that realm was, in the end, unlike ordinary people.
The Lord of the Underworld — born a sovereign by nature.
"Oh dear — looks like you don't remember."
Anthony patted Illya on the shoulder, still smiling, and said:
"But that's alright — your Uncle Prometheus doesn't mind these things."
"I only came to say — in a moment like this, there's no need to interfere with the battle anymore."
He glanced toward Shirou and said softly: "This is his battlefield."
And then, suddenly, Anthony raised his voice:
"Hey! Shirou! That's about enough — try ending it in one strike now!"
You must be joking — that's Heracles!
In the next instant, that thought surfaced in Illya's mind, nearly on reflex.
And yet — as if in answer to those words — Shirou Emiya's expression turned grave. And then, the Avalon in his hand blazed with light once more.
And from within it, he drew out once more — a blade carrying a faint, ancient luster.
In an instant, magical energy was consumed like flowing water, and Anthony glanced up and casually waved a hand — points cascaded in like a flood.
And so, just like that, naturally and as a matter of course, that blade was drawn forth.
His eyes became golden — grave and majestic — and in that moment, Shirou Emiya stepped forward toward Heracles.
A faintly playful look crossed Anthony's face, and from the livestream came the sound of Jie's helpless sigh.
[Grand Flame Wordsmith: I should have seen this coming.]
That sword — to Jie, it was intimately, unmistakably familiar…
It was the longsword that "Shuo" had once wielded.
In the battle against the Nian Beast, Anthony had witnessed that sword — and so, casually, he had tucked it into the range of what Shirou could project as well…
And now — it had come to this.
The moment he took hold of that longsword, a profound and ineffable sensation radiated from Shirou — even his martial arts seemed to be elevated without limit by the blade, granting him a brief glimpse of what it meant to stand at…
The Pinnacle of Martial Mastery!
To transcend the limits of humanity through pure martial arts alone. To transcend the limits of the flesh. To arrive at a realm of technique that was, in truth, the absolute apex.
Plus a certain astronomical numerical bonus on top.
And so, in that instant — a thrust!
In this moment, the weakness of a certain someone who had twelve lives but no health-lock became piercingly, mercilessly clear.
As Shirou Emiya drove that sword in, Illya felt with crystalline clarity — Heracles' life count cascading away like rushing water.
One strike — nine lives!
Illya opened her mouth instinctively — but was held in place by the pressure of the "Lord of the Underworld" standing nearby. Anthony swept the scene with a glance, let out a light sigh, waved his hand, and used the power of the Lord of the Underworld to restrain Heracles as well — grievously weakened, hovering on the brink of death, down to a final, barely-flickering life… in a certain sense, his state was now utterly and completely indeterminate.
"It's over."
He delivered this verdict, and so the projected sword's edge in Shirou Emiya's hand vanished. Shirou immediately stepped back several paces and looked back toward Anthony.
Illya opened her mouth slightly — but found she didn't quite know what to say.
And then, the next moment — Illya thought she heard a sigh.
And then, as though struck by lightning, she spun around.
"So — it's already been dealt with?"
Kiritsugu Emiya stepped out from beneath the Lord of the Underworld's disguise, looked toward Anthony, received his nod, and let out a quiet sigh.
And then, in Illya's suddenly wide-staring eyes, he crouched down — and looked at Illya with a gaze full of complicated emotion.
At last, he said softly:
"It's been a long time, Illya."
____
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