The clock hand turned in circles.
The sun rose in the east—and soon it was time for it to set.
In the now-emptied Ryuudou Temple, washed in red by the dying light, two figures crossed and clashed again and again.
"Hah—!"
"Ora ora!!"
A sturdy banner-lance engraved with fleur-de-lis slammed into a razor-sharp katana. The exchange shifted constantly—right-hand to left-hand, forward grip to reverse grip—two shadows weaving and returning, pressing and yielding.
At times the katana fell like storm rain, forcing the lance into defense. At others, the banner-lance slipped free at the critical instant, turning defense into a perfectly timed counter.
One combatant wore silver armor and wielded the banner-lance: Gilles de Rais.
The other was Ritsuka, making final adjustments—preparing to go all out tonight.
After resting briefly in Morgan's arms, Ritsuka's mind had recovered significantly. At this point, he believed sitting around to regain a tiny bit of mana was meaningless. Better to warm up, sharpen his state, and bring his body to its peak.
Of course—this was still only a warmup.
Gilles hadn't activated his class's Berserk-like traits, and he was deliberately holding back. Even with a B-rank Strength, he was using less than half of it.
Ritsuka, meanwhile, had activated reinforcement magecraft and taken a potion Morgan had prepared, temporarily raising his physical parameters—just enough for them to fight evenly.
"This level of swordsmanship would be lethal against an ordinary magus," Gilles said as he knocked aside Ritsuka's katana with the banner-lance. "But against a Servant who surpasses you in every category, it still isn't enough, Master."
His free hand snapped to a second blade at his waist, drawing it in one motion and chopping straight toward Ritsuka's throat.
"Now—watch carefully!"
Clang!
The strike came down like a falling mountain, but Ritsuka's pale-blue eyes caught the trajectory. He raised his katana and braced it, stopping the blow.
Veins stood out on his forehead—the pressure was obvious.
"I never seriously studied the katana," Ritsuka gritted out. "Even now, it's just a weapon I can use for self-defense."
"I don't need mastery—I just need it to match my eyes… that's enough!"
His blade slid free, and the motion that followed was precise—his cut driving directly toward the "death line" he perceived on Gilles' body.
Metal rang again and again—blade light, lance light, sparks and collision.
"Marshal Gilles, do you remember what I told you before?" Ritsuka shouted over the din. "I've never truly desired the Grail! Whether I obtain it or not doesn't matter to me!"
"My reason for joining this war has always been one thing—settling accounts with the past!"
"And I can feel it… that moment is coming. The moment I rebel against fate is close!"
Bang!
Ritsuka's katana was checked; his other hand moved without hesitation.
A revolver—hidden inside his sleeve.
He raised it and pulled the trigger at Gilles' torso.
But Gilles knew him too well. He was ready.
Steel flashed; the bullet was deflected.
"You are formidable, and you are exceptional, Master," Gilles said, voice warm with conviction. "I don't know who your enemy is… but since you have chosen your resolve, I will believe in you without hesitation."
"I will support you. I hope you achieve what you seek."
The banner-lance pinned the katana again; Gilles' armored boot drove toward Ritsuka's legs.
Ritsuka evaded.
"That's enough, Master," Gilles said, raising a hand. "We'll stop here."
"…Yeah," Ritsuka agreed. "This is enough."
They lowered their weapons and stepped back with perfect mutual understanding.
Breathing steady. Footwork stable.
It had only been sparring—Gilles hadn't even touched a Noble Phantasm, nor expended real mana. If Ritsuka was already gasping at this level, then he had no business "settling accounts" with the old worm. He'd be better off fleeing Fuyuki immediately.
When they finished, the two sat down on the ground.
Gilles studied the young man and sighed with emotion.
"Truly—heroes are born young. Master, even after only a few days together, every time I witness your excellence, I can't help but admire you."
"Huh?" Ritsuka shook his head. "I'm just average. You don't need to flatter me, Marshal Gilles."
"Everything I've done is simply what I believed I should do. The one worthy of respect is you—the one who's been running around for me this whole time."
Gilles smiled helplessly at the boy's calm humility—then his expression turned serious.
"No. In my view, your value is even greater."
"And perhaps describing it this way will make you understand the weight of it."
"I believe it is this era—and your environment—that has limited you."
"If you had been born in my France… I believe you could have become a great commander, or a hero—like Jeanne."
"In you, I see something reminiscent of Jeanne… and also qualities that belong to you alone."
"Come on," Ritsuka said, waving it off. "Don't joke with me."
He refused to place himself beside a saint like Jeanne d'Arc.
She had stood up for her country, for her people, for justice.
He was merely someone struggling for revenge—for resistance—for his own desire to fight back.
If he resembled anyone, Ritsuka thought, it would be the Count of Monte Cristo, not a holy maiden.
And besides—
"Have you ever seen a commander or hero at my age?" Ritsuka asked with a wry smile.
Gilles answered instantly—earnest enough to make it sting.
"Yes."
"Jeanne d'Arc was about your age when she accepted that burden, saved France, and led us to victory again and again."
…A legendary saint.
Listening to Gilles recount Jeanne's feats at the same age, Ritsuka couldn't help twitching at the corner of his mouth. He was being "corrected" in real time by history itself.
Still, even if it was all true, he felt awkward. After all, that was a saint chosen by Heaven—how could he, a second-rate magus, compare?
"And it wasn't only Jeanne," Gilles continued, warming to the topic like an enthusiastic middle-aged man. "When I was your age, I was already following my father to war. I killed enemies then, too."
And so Gilles began eagerly talking about his youth—boasting and reminiscing—laughing as he treated Ritsuka like a younger generation he genuinely liked.
Gilles was enjoying himself.
Ritsuka, like any young man trapped by an elder's endless stories, could only smile helplessly and humor him.
"Sorry, Marshal," Ritsuka tried to cut in at last. "I'm really not as—"
Before he could finish, Morgan's voice suddenly reached his ear.
"Ritsuka. Stop chatting over there. Come here."
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"The new potion I brewed for you," Morgan replied. "And the gear I prepared. Bring everything."
She appeared at the doorway carrying a pile of strange tools she'd made with her own hands, urging him over.
"If you're going into battle, then I'm giving you a full upgrade from head to toe."
"Okay—I'm coming."
Ritsuka stood and apologized to Gilles, who still looked like he hadn't talked enough.
"Sorry, Marshal. I need to go over there for a moment."
He told Gilles to head down the mountain and wait.
As Ritsuka left, Gilles watched his back and sighed.
"A fine way of getting along… and that feeling is clearly genuine."
"In myths, a witch only chooses the most outstanding as her partner—heroes, or kings."
"And yet Ritsuka himself hasn't realized he's already done something extraordinary."
"Should I tell him?" Gilles murmured.
Then he shook his head.
"No. The affairs of the young should be left to the young."
"A witch's love… perhaps can only be understood by living through it."
He smiled softly.
"Youth really is wonderful."
His body dissolved into spirit particles, drifting away toward the foot of the mountain.
Inside the room, Ritsuka—under Morgan's relentless urging—began a new round of full equipment and preparation.
Under her pressure, he had no choice but to change everything.
Shirt. Pants. Even his underwear.
At first Morgan looked amused—like she was about to enjoy the view of his well-built body. But Ritsuka still had the last remnants of shame in him, and under his stubborn resistance, Morgan reluctantly tossed him the clothes and stepped out.
Ritsuka felt—very strongly—that she hadn't really left. That she was hiding somewhere, watching.
But time didn't wait.
He gritted his teeth and changed at the fastest speed of his life.
The moment he finished, Morgan appeared again—exactly as he'd predicted—eyeing him with a teasing look and saying something that made his face go blank.
"Pretty solid body," she remarked. "Looks like you've developed well."
"You didn't leave!"
"I did," Morgan said with a perfectly straight face. "I only came back after you were done."
"Like hell I believe that!"
Morgan only smiled, clearly lying with complete confidence. She'd never left at all.
"Alright," she said, brushing a finger along his clothing. "Stop fussing about that. Tell me how it feels."
"This outfit is a formal mystic code I wove for you personally—crafted with fae techniques."
"Materials were limited, so it can't compare to my foolish sister's silver lion armor… but it will block most modern magecraft and grant immunity to curses."
Then, as if she couldn't help herself, she complained—
"In my era, countless people begged me to craft magical tools for them."
"And you can't even change clothes without demanding I avert my eyes. How cold of you."
"How is that 'cold'?" Ritsuka shot back, exasperated. "You're the one with absolutely no sense of boundaries."
But neither of them truly dwelled on it.
Ritsuka knew everything Morgan had done was to help him—to give him confidence, protection, and one more layer of safety in what came next.
"…Still," he said, looking at her seriously, "thank you, Morgan."
"Thank you for everything you've done for me."
"Being able to summon you this time… was the greatest luck I've had."
He couldn't repay what he owed. In the end, all his words could become was an earnest gratitude.
Morgan smiled—bright and pleased.
"Of course. Our bond was destined."
Then she blinked playfully.
"But I should warn you—help from a witch is never free."
"Be careful," she murmured, voice sweet as poison, "or I might steal your most precious thing."
"If it's mine," Ritsuka answered with the same smile, "then take it whenever you want."
"Oh, I will." Morgan's eyes narrowed, satisfied.
"But before I take it, you'd better survive."
"And remember the promise you made me…"
"Never betray me."
"Not even death is allowed to separate us."
"…Yeah."
—
Not long after, deep in a hidden corner of the forest outside Fuyuki, Saber arrived in haste with Irisviel.
Ritsuka arrived soon after with Gilles de Rais.
At last, the allied group met.
"Good," Saber said. "You're here, Mr. Ritsuka."
"Yeah. Sorry—I'm late. Have you been waiting long?"
"No," Irisviel answered. "Saber and I only just arrived."
Because they'd already coordinated and the plan had been set, there was no need for extra chatter.
Once everyone was present, they moved—fast—under the cover of newly fallen night, heading toward the Tohsaka estate for the final decisive battle.
Footsteps multiplied.
Their group reached the forest on the outskirts where the Tohsaka residence lay.
Tonight, the woods were unnaturally quiet.
No birds.
No insects.
It was as if everything had been cleared in advance.
And in the air, an intense concentration of mana hung like fog.
For veterans—Servants and magi alike—this wasn't something you could hide.
More importantly, it was a message:
There is a problem here.
Not only were they prepared—
The enemy was prepared, too.
This was an undisguised provocation.
And a declaration before the war began:
If you have the courage…
Then come.
[Image omitted]
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 175)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 126)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter105)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter100)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter134)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 70
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 87
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 79
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 64
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 73
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 45
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 49
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 45
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 45
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