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What happened in those few minutes shook Ryuu's soul far more violently than any physical wound she had ever received.
She was still kneeling, her back heavy from the pressure of divine will, but her gaze was fixed straight ahead—at the figure of the red-haired man who now seemed so different. Shirou Emiya, whom she had known until now as a strange adventurer with unreasonable power, now towered in her mind like a mountain. Tall. Sturdy. Difficult to reach its peak.
Ryuu's memories drifted back to their early days in the small field near the waitress's dormitory. Back then, Shirou pretended to be clumsy, even fragile. She remembered clearly how her own wooden sword had once pushed Shirou back, how that body had seemed like it could collapse at any moment. But ever since that day she witnessed Shirou unleash part of his true power, that image of "weakness" never truly returned.
Now she saw it.
Not a story. Not a report. Not a rumor.
She witnessed firsthand how a level four man stood against divine will.
Ryuu had heard the tales—how Shirou faced Revis, a half-monster with power equivalent to level six, how he endured with a body that should have been destroyed multiple times. Back then, Ryuu thought, that must be exaggerated... or just pure luck.
It turned out it wasn't.
What was before her now was far more brutal.
Shirou was holding onto Rudra's foot with trembling hands, veins bulging, his body shaking against a pressure that should have annihilated an ordinary human. There was no burning anger on his face—only a hard, almost foolish, determination not to let go.
Even when you are weak... You still move forward.
For the first time that night, Ryuu's chest felt a strange lightness.
She knew this sensation. This feeling.
The feeling of seeing someone stand up for others, without thinking of themselves.
That fire.
The fire that Alise once had.
The fire carried by Kaguya, Lyra, and the entire Astraea Familia.
Ryuu swallowed a breath, her eyes trembling.
So... that torch has not gone out.
Even as she knelt on the ground, even as the world felt dark, Ryuu smiled faintly in her heart.
That defender of justice... is still walking.
And his name was Shirou Emiya.
That is why, when Rudra earlier asked what drove Shirou to endure this far—against divine pressure, holding back the foot of a god—Ryuu answered without hesitation. With a hoarse yet confident voice, she spoke of that dream. A dream too straightforward, too honest, and too fragile for this dirty world.
She said it with unconcealed pride.
And that was precisely where everything crumbled.
Rudra's gaze changed to one of interest—like a child who had found a new way to break his toy. The divine will descended again, this time striking Ryuu. Her hands moved against her own will, her fingers wrapping around her own neck. Grrk—! Her breath was cut off, and the world around her shook.
Meanwhile, Shirou was forced to watch. Forced to choose.
Rudra chuckled lightly, as if offering a simple game. Let me go, or let her die. A cruel entertainment, crafted from the suffering of two who refused to yield.
The grip on Ryuu's neck tightened. Her vision blurred, her lungs burned. She knew—this wasn't a wound she could fight. Her body would give up.
Yet, in between her remaining gasps, Ryuu turned to Shirou. Her lips moved haltingly, forcing words out of her choked throat.
"Don't... let him go..."
Not a plea to be saved. Not a scream for life.
"That... would make everything... meaningless..."
There was a strange calm in her eyes. Her vengeance had ended. Those who haunted her had been avenged. And more importantly, she had seen that fire pass to another.
The torch has not gone out.
If this was the end, Ryuu accepted it without regret. In her mind flashed Alise's bright smile, Kaguya's sarcastic voice, Lyra's light laughter. They were waiting for her ahead, just like before.
Sorry... I'm a little late.
With that thought, Ryuu slowly closed her eyes, surrendering herself—not to Rudra, but to the belief that the justice they upheld would continue, together with Shirou Emiya.
However, Ryuu had misjudged the flame dwelling within Shirou. That fire was not a momentary explosion, but embers that kept burning, nurtured by a resolve that never extinguished even as his body was nearly crushed.
Just as Ryuu's vision began to blur and her consciousness teetered on the brink of darkness, she heard that voice. A voice that was strange, heavy, and structured like an ancient oath. Shirou recited it with great difficulty, each word seemingly pulled from a burning chest.
A sliver of hope arose in Ryuu's mind. A thin hope that the incantation wasn't merely an attack, but a key—a way out for both of them from the mountain-like grip of divine will.
Unlimited Blade Works.
The incantation flowed, not merely a sequence of words, but the story of Shirou's own life. About a body made into a tool, about a resolve forged by failure, about the path he chose, even knowing the thorny end awaiting him. Each line was like a confession, like an affirmation that he would not retreat, no matter the cost.
As the final word fell, the air vibrated.
SHRAAK—!
A black knife appeared from the void, shot forth without hesitation, pierced through space and time, and plunged straight into Rudra's chest. Not a holy weapon. Not a hero's blade. Just a lowly knife laden with sin—yet that was precisely why it existed.
The pressure vanished instantly.
Ryuu fell forward, coughing violently, her lungs finally greedily sucking in air. Hah—hah! Her hands trembled as she propped herself up; the world felt like it was spinning, yet she was alive. Truly alive.
She turned to Shirou.
That relief was soon mixed with a piercing unease. Ryuu knew what his action just now meant. She knew the price that man might have to pay—not a wound, not death, but something far more cruel.
Was this worth it...?
A thought crossed her mind that made her chest feel heavy: if a human injures a god with the intent to kill, then that soul might never find peace. Eternal hell—that's what the gods called it.
Ryuu gritted her teeth softly, gazing at Shirou's trembling back.
Rudra's body staggered back, his steps unsteady as the black blade forced him to retreat. From the chest where the weapon was embedded, a golden liquid flowed freely—divine ichor—dripping onto the cave floor with a drip... drip... that felt odd and oppressive.
The god's face froze. The first emotion to appear wasn't anger, but bare disbelief. His eyes stared at Shirou as if trying to confirm that what had just happened was truly real.
"Do you... truly understand," Rudra spoke slowly, his voice lower than before, "the consequences of your action just now?"
Shirou stood unsteadily. His body trembled violently, skin in some parts faintly darkened, remnants of heat from nerves forced to work beyond their limits. His breath was ragged, his throat dry, yet he still gave a small nod.
Rudra narrowed his eyes. "When you die," he stated flatly, as if reading a verdict. "Your soul will ascend to Tenkai. To my presence. And there... I am free to treat you as I please."
Another nod. Slow, weak, but clear.
"After I am satisfied," continued Rudra, his step slightly hampered by the continuous flow of divine blood, "I will throw you back into the world. Reborn with wretched fate—disease, misfortune, suffering. Die again. Tormented again. Then repeated. Continuously. Without end."
Shirou remained silent. His head bobbed up and down once more.
Rudra clicked his tongue, his tone rising. "Don't just nod like a fool!" he said sharply. "That is hell you're walking into. A hell you will truly experience!"
The ichor increasingly soaked the cave floor, splattering as Rudra moved his foot. But Shirou finally raised his face. His eyes were blurred by pain, yet his gaze was clear with decision.
"In that case..." his voice was hoarse, almost breaking, "...that's a fitting price."
Rudra fell silent.
For a moment, the cave was quiet. Even the dripping blood seemed to stop being heard. Then, the corner of Rudra's lips lifted. Not a cruel sneer—but a small smile filled with astonishment.
"...A fitting price?" he murmured.
A soft laugh escaped his throat. Heh. That laugh grew, broke, and turned into a loud guffaw that echoed strongly within the cave. Rudra laughed heartily, his shoulders shaking, divine blood flowing freely without him caring in the slightest.
"Incredible... truly incredible," he said amidst laughter. "A human who consciously chooses hell for a dream that doesn't even promise happiness."
He looked at Shirou with strangely glittering eyes.
"It's been a long time," he continued while laughing, "since I've seen something this absurd."
Rudra's laughter hadn't subsided yet. The echoes of his guffaws bounced off the cave walls, mixing with the splat... splat... sound of ichor dripping to the ground. In a tone as if telling a funny story, he spoke.
"How amusing," he said while shaking his head. "You didn't choose to save that girl, nor did you choose to simply let me go." His gaze swept over Shirou from head to toe. "Instead, you chose the third option—the most unreasonable one. Dragging a god down to hell together with yourself."
He let out a long sigh, as if just realizing something. "Ahhh..." Rudra's eyes met Shirou's again. His smile thinned, changing into an expression of cold, intrigued interest. "Now I understand."
The atmosphere suddenly felt heavier.
"It's not those bandits who are the most broken," he continued slowly. "Nor the criminals dancing in blood." His lips lifted slightly. "The most cracked soul is yours. A man drunk on his own ideals. One willing to destroy everything—including himself—for a word called 'justice'."
Rudra stood tall even as divine blood still flowed. He patted his chest once, as if ignoring the wound that should have been impossible. "I will be waiting for you," he said lightly, almost like a promise of a meeting. "Shirou Emiya."
The next moment, a golden light exploded from his body. Whooooom! An explosion of divine radiance raged mercilessly, radiating like a sun being born in the narrow space of the cave. That pillar of light pierced through the stone ceiling with a thunderous roar—krraaaak!—shattering earth and rock as if they were fragile like sand, then shot straight into the night sky, leaving a giant hole that revealed the heavens.
Wind swirled wildly, howling like a trapped storm. Dust and rock fragments flew, hitting the cave walls with a painful crack—crack—crack! sound. The air felt heavy, full of divine pressure that made breathing hitch.
Shirou reflexively raised his arm, shielding his face from the piercing glare. The light penetrated between his fingers, forcing him to squint while gritting his teeth. Ryuu, beside him, did the same, turning her back to the center of the light, one hand protecting her eyes while the other dug into the ground to avoid being blown away by the gust of wind.
Amidst that sea of light, Rudra's silhouette was visible for a moment—tall, graceful, and untouchable. His body slowly dissolved, unraveling into particles of golden light that rose upward, one by one, like stars returning to their original sky.
In an instant, everything vanished.
The light faded, the wind subsided, and the cave sank back into a heavy silence—the silence left after the presence of a god departed, leaving a mark that wouldn't be easily forgotten.
All that remained was Jura's black blade. The knife fell to the ground with a heavy clang, its surface wet with the god's ichor that still faintly glimmered under the light of the remaining torches.
It wasn't just that black weapon that fell to the ground with a dry clang. A moment after the divine light vanished, Shirou's body also lost its support. His knees wobbled, then his entire body collapsed forward, falling without a sound, as if the thread holding him had been cut.
That mortal body had pushed itself beyond its limits—fighting against the pressure of divine will, burning its own nerves to force a miracle. Now, after everything was over, it could no longer stand. Cold stone welcomed him... yet never truly touched him.
"Shirou—!"
With a lightning-fast movement, Ryuu lunged forward. Her green cloak fluttered as she reached for that body, catching Shirou just before his head hit the ground. Thud! She knelt, holding Shirou's weight in both her arms, her breath slightly ragged.
So light.
That feeling made Ryuu's chest tighten. The body that had always stood in front of her—stubborn, reckless, and always moving first—now felt fragile, almost as if it would break if she held it wrong.
Without waiting any longer, Ryuu pressed one hand to Shirou's chest. Her lips moved quickly, reciting an incantation she had memorized even in her sleep.
"The song of a now distant forest. The nostalgic song of life..."
But before the light could fully form, a faint voice was heard.
"Don't... push yourself, Ryuu..."
Shirou's eyelids were half-open. A faint curve—too faint—drawn on that pale face. "You are... injured too."
That simple sentence made Ryuu sharply inhale. Her brows furrowed, her jaw tightened. In her heart, she grumbled, idiot... look at yourself first before worrying about others.
"Be quiet," she murmured, more like a plea than an order.
Her incantation didn't stop.
"Noah Heal."
A soft green light bloomed from her palm, enveloping Shirou's body like a warm embrace. The healing aura pulsed slowly—fuuuum—soothing wounds, mending unseen cracks, trying to restore breath and the pulse of life to that nearly spent body.
The green light from Noah Heal slowly faded, leaving behind the cave air that turned cold and silent again. Dust still floated thinly, occasionally falling like gray snow from the cracked ceiling. Shirou's breathing sounded more stable now, though his body still felt weak in Ryuu's embrace.
And that was when—Ryuu's anger finally spilled over.
"Are you truly an idiot?!" Her voice trembled, not loud, but sharp. Her hand grabbed the collar of Shirou's clothes, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to show how her emotions were boiling. "Reckless, rash, foolish—do you know how many safer ways we could have taken?!"
Shirou didn't avoid it. He let Ryuu scold him, gazing at the elf's face with eyes that remained calm even though his eyelids were heavy. There was no regret there, only stubborn resolve.
"You could have just let him go," Ryuu continued, her breath rising and falling. "We could have tracked him. With the Loki Familia, with the Guild—anything! Why do you always choose the most dangerous path?!"
Shirou let out a short sigh, a pang felt in his chest. "Because... that still carries risk."
"What more risk?!" Ryuu almost shouted.
"Other victims," Shirou answered softly. "One day. One hour. Even just one minute... that's enough for a god like him to ruin another person's life."
Those words fell heavily between them.
Ryuu fell silent for a moment, then her laugh burst out—short, bitter, almost like a sob. "So you chose to be that victim?"
Shirou didn't answer. His gaze shifted slightly, as if the stones on the cave floor suddenly became far more interesting.
That silence became the most painful answer.
"Why... why not just me?" Ryuu's voice dropped drastically. The hand that had been grabbing now weakened, falling to the side of Shirou's body. "Just let me die. I'm used to losing."
Her shoulders trembled.
"My friends...," Ryuu swallowed, her voice breaking. "Alise. Kaguya. Lyra. The others... they all left because I survived. And now—now you..."
She gritted her teeth, trying hard to hold back something pushing out from her chest. "Now you will suffer forever because of me, Shirou. Tormented by that god. Reincarnated endlessly. All because I couldn't die where I should have."
Finally, the tears fell.
Clear, silent, crystallizing at the corners of her blue eyes before slowly flowing down her cheeks. Ryuu bowed her head, her shoulders shaking without a sound, as if that weeping didn't deserve to be heard.
Shirou raised his hand with great difficulty. His fingers trembled as they touched Ryuu's arm.
"Ryuu," he said faintly, almost drowned by the cave's silence. "Don't... shoulder all the sins yourself."
Ryuu shook her head hard. "You don't understand—"
"Perhaps," Shirou gently cut in. "But I chose this. Not because of you. Not because of anyone else."
He looked back at Ryuu, his eyes dim yet honest. "I'm just... doing what I think is right."
For a moment, Ryuu couldn't answer. Her sobs stuck in her throat, her chest felt tight from a mix of guilt, admiration, and fear of loss.
Shirou slowly freed himself from Ryuu's embrace. His movements were still unsteady, his knees trembled before he managed to stand upright. He raised his hand, and with a faint flash of light—shrrk—a white handkerchief was projected onto his palm. Without many words, he bowed slightly and awkwardly wiped the corner of Ryuu's eyes, wiping away the remaining tears still etched on her cheeks.
"There," he said softly, his tone gentle yet firm. "Don't cry like that."
Then, as if their previous conversation wasn't heavy enough, Shirou added in an almost casual tone, "Besides... if someday I really die and my soul ascends to Tenkai—do you think I'd just let Rudra torment me like that?"
Ryuu stopped short. The sob that had been stuck in her chest seemed to jam halfway. She looked at Shirou with eyes still wet, her brows furrowed in confusion. "What... do you mean?" she whispered. "Shirou, that's Tenkai. Rudra is far stronger than in the mortal world. He won't hold back, there are no limits—"
Shirou gave a small smile. Not a cheerful one, but a faint curve laden with stubborn conviction. "My soul won't hold back either."
He looked straight ahead, as if he could see something far beyond this collapsed cave. "If that day comes, Rudra will be greeted by Unlimited Blade Works."
Ryuu fell completely silent.
Those words made Ryuu fall silent, her thoughts spinning slowly yet deeply. Unlimited Blade Works. She had just heard it, even as the closing of the long incantation Shirou had recited with a hoarse voice and broken breaths. But the result back then was just one small black knife, a lowly blade not even a legendary weapon.
Was that truly the limit of its power?
She didn't know.
But one thing was clear.
Before her, Shirou stood with a body that had just been nearly destroyed, a pale face, clothes dirty with dust and blood—and yet, from his demeanor radiated a resolve so straightforward and dangerous, as if even the gods were just another obstacle on the path of his dream.
Ryuu didn't understand what Shirou planned, didn't understand how someone could speak about fighting a god in the realm of gods with such a calm tone.
But somehow—
In Ryuu's eyes, at that moment, Shirou looked... so cool.