Before the fire brigade even arrived, Aslan had already left. In the process, he had grabbed the little girl who followed him, used his speed to burst out of the scene, and carried her directly to the mountains just beyond the old city. From there, they could watch the flames devouring the Matou estate from afar.
It seemed that, as the fire burned, the heaviness in the girl's heart—built up over so long—began to dissipate with the smoke.
"Don't feel guilty," Aslan said. "I've given those who needed saving a ray of hope. From now on, you will have nothing to do with the Matou family. You will live as my disciple. Your name is Sakura Pendragon. Remember—this surname is among the most noble in all Great Britain. Those who abandoned you will one day look up to you."
The girl gazed at the burning estate, then nodded. From this moment on, she had nothing to do with either the Tōsaka or Matou families.
Aslan ruffled her hair, but his thoughts faltered. A moment later, he turned down an empty alley. If someone hostile to Sakura investigated her past one day… would they not brand her a traitor?
When Tōsaka Tokiomi—still hiding in the basement—received word from his own disciple that the fire was at the Matou estate, he immediately rushed out, demanding details from anyone nearby. When he learned that only a single boy had been rescued, the always-elegant magus's expression shifted again and again.
Pain. Regret. A flicker of disbelief.
Gilgamesh, watching his Master's reaction, seemed mildly intrigued. Yet in Tokiomi's eyes, there was an unmistakable glint of gloating. Tokiomi thought, with some disdain, that the King of Heroes clearly did not understand human nature.
His own daughter… If only he had sent her to Northern Europe. But how could the old man of the Matou family have failed to stop the flames? And that holy light rising into the sky—if this had been a premeditated attack, then he, Tōsaka Tokiomi, would have his revenge.
By the time dawn began to pale the horizon, Tokiomi had composed himself and made his way to the ruins, leaning on his walking stick. The gawkers had gone home to sleep, and only the police cordon remained. But among the charred wreckage, one figure still moved—pushing aside burnt beams and crumbling stone.
Blood dripped from his torn hands onto the blackened earth. The necrotic half of his body prevented him from moving with any real speed, but still he dug, coughing blood between ragged breaths.
"Sakura! Sakura!!"
The man was Kariya. He had just rushed back from the docks when he learned of the fire. When he arrived, the fire brigade captain had been relieved to find even a single survivor—but for Kariya, knowing that everyone else was still inside was a crushing blow.
When the fire was finally extinguished, only one skeleton was recovered—believed to be the eldest son of the family, Kariya's older brother.
No trace was found of the two children or the old man. It was no surprise. The blaze had burned far hotter than any incinerator; the old man's bones would have been brittle, the children's not yet fully developed. In such heat, it was possible they had been reduced entirely to ash. Even the skeleton recovered had only partially survived.
Kariya could not bring himself to believe that Sakura had died—not her, and certainly not that old bastard. He searched for the basement entrance in the ruins, clinging to the hope that if anyone had survived, they would be in the underground worm pit.
The mass of crest worms inside his arm writhed violently. Since evening they had been in constant agitation, something that had never happened before. He managed to suppress them—barely—but the behavior was a sign. Perhaps the old man really had…
After all, the old man had asked him to use a Command Spell to summon Berserker to his side.
Kariya still maintained his link to Berserker, but the Servant could not speak to him. Even if Kariya tried to talk, all he could hear was a mad, repetitive murmur: "Daughter… my lovely daughter… hehehe… daughter!"
"Kariya…"
Tokiomi's voice came from behind him. Seeing this man—an old friend he had long looked down upon—still digging through the ruins with bloody hands, Tokiomi called out.
Kariya turned to him, eyes burning with fury and hatred.
"Tokiomi… it's all your fault! This is all your fault, Tōsaka Tokiomi!!"
He staggered upright and lunged forward, ready to strike him. Tokiomi took a step back, frowned, and then slapped him across the face. All his grief he forced down deep, hiding it behind a mask of elegance.
But to Kariya, that mask was nothing but a symbol of unrepentance and cold indifference.
Kariya clutched his face, glared at Tokiomi one last time, then turned away. Though he burned to destroy Tokiomi, his greater concern was learning Sakura's fate. If both the old worm and Sakura were gone, then his only purpose would be to take the Holy Grail after killing Tokiomi—and use its power to bring her back.
"Heh… Tokiomi… Tokiomi!"
Elsewhere, Gilgamesh poured himself a glass of wine in Kotomine Kirei's cellar. Smiling faintly, he regarded the young priest, who seemed as disinterested as ever.
"Kirei, if I'm not mistaken, when you were reporting the Matou family's situation to your teacher, Tōsaka Tokiomi, the corners of your mouth curled upward. Can someone like you actually feel pleasure? No… of course you can. As a human, you must have desires—things that bring you joy. I shouldn't even need to ask…"
The King of Heroes took a slow sip, crimson eyes locked on Kirei.
"Kirei, have you begun to discover the ugliness in your own heart?"
-End Chapter-
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