"Where is this?"
Emiya Shirou wanted to struggle free from Esdeath's grip, but at the moment he couldn't even muster enough strength to move his head—how could he hope to break away from her?
"A house I built," Esdeath replied matter-of-factly, using her gaze to point toward the small hut ahead.
"..."
"I know that! I mean, where exactly are we right now?"
Shirou inwardly rolled his eyes at Esdeath's nonchalant reply. How could someone who displayed razor-sharp instincts in combat be so oblivious when answering a simple question?
"No idea." Esdeath shook her head casually, carrying Shirou to a makeshift bed fashioned crudely from woven grass.
Expecting the fearsome Empire's strongest general to properly construct a house and weave a decent bed would be absurd.
She could survive indefinitely in the wild like a beast, but building proper shelter clearly wasn't her forte. Survival tactics she had mastered—architecture, not so much.
Without an ounce of gentleness, Esdeath tossed Shirou onto the bed, true to her ruthless nature. One could even hear Shirou's body making intimate contact with the ground beneath the grass mat.
"..."
Shirou didn't react at all, partly because his body felt numb and partly because, even if he had felt pain, he simply couldn't muster any reaction right now.
Still, his gaze locked intensely onto Esdeath, as though silently saying—
Don't play these meaningless games. If you want to kill me, do it quickly. I will never yield.
Of course, Shirou didn't actually mean that. He was simply overwhelmed by the sheer absurdity of the situation.
He hadn't died.
Esdeath hadn't been killed by his hand.
Instead, they'd both inexplicably ended up in some bizarre place.
Shirou's mind was reeling.
In retrospect, all his desperate struggle hadn't even significantly injured Esdeath. Had he truly accomplished nothing?
No valuable intel on the Empire.
No death of Esdeath.
Shirou sank into deep contemplation.
"Relax. I won't attack you while we're here."
Apparently misreading Shirou's expression as worry that she'd suddenly attack, Esdeath patted his senseless shoulder and reassured him with a casual smile.
That previous battle had been the most satisfying fight Esdeath had ever experienced. Both sides had unleashed everything—every trick, every combat technique, clawing at each other like ferocious beasts.
It was precisely the kind of fight Esdeath craved. Even at the moment she had lost to Shirou, she'd felt not a shred of regret.
By the final stages, her Teigu had become little more than a supporting tool.
Just like in canon, when she'd faced Akame, Esdeath created an ice arena to force close-range combat. She had used her Teigu primarily to enhance her melee advantage, rather than cautiously keeping distance to wear down the revolutionary forces.
She could've easily annihilated them using pure ice manipulation tactics, yet she deliberately chose to engage opponents head-on. More than victory, she valued the thrill of close combat against formidable opponents.
That was exactly why each time she fought Shirou, she closed the distance immediately.
Physical clashes, beast-like struggles—these were what Esdeath truly desired.
She called herself the strongest but never shied away from acknowledging her defeats. Shirou hadn't won due to superior power, but rather through luck, timing, and circumstances.
Heaven—Shirou's breathing technique, Sword Breathing, harnessed the sun's power, granting resistance to Esdeath's ice and allowing him to escape her ultimate move, Mahapadma.
Earth—Shirou's ability to raise his body temperature had a natural limit; even pushed to extremes, he couldn't activate the Demon Slayer Mark on his own. During their previous battle in the arena, Shirou's heartbeat and body temperature were incredibly high, yet insufficient. However, fighting in a blazing forest provided external heat, raising his temperature further, ultimately allowing the Demon Slayer Mark to manifest.
Man—Through tireless efforts, Shirou had studied Esdeath to such a degree he understood her instinctual reactions better than she herself did. His specifically developed sword forms had severely limited her close combat effectiveness, reducing her capabilities to around 60%. This effectively leveled the playing field between them.
All these combined factors had allowed Shirou to emerge victorious.
...
Several days passed, and Shirou's hostility toward Esdeath began to ease slightly.
It wasn't that he'd lost his killing intent toward her; rather, stranded together on this deserted island, he had no choice but to temporarily set it aside just to survive.
He wasn't someone who could endure loneliness indefinitely—Shirou was fundamentally a social creature, not an invincible superhuman.
But the real reason was even simpler:
Right now, Shirou had no way to battle Esdeath.
Forget defeating her—just lifting his sword required enormous effort.
Even Avalon had limited reserves of mana. Ever since regaining consciousness, Shirou no longer felt that warm flow emanating from his abdomen.
He had been surviving solely by sheer willpower, enduring intensifying pain every passing day.
He had attempted Projection Magecraft several times, but each attempt sent piercing pain through his mind, forcing him to stop. After several days of torturous effort, he managed to weakly project weapons, yet the agony from deep within his skull never ceased.
Clearly, lingering consequences from their battle would plague him for a long time to come.
For these reasons, Shirou chose a temporary ceasefire with Esdeath—at least until they escaped this deserted island. Only then would they resume their fight.
Flames crackled softly in front of Shirou and Esdeath as they sat on the beach, quietly gazing up at the starry sky.
"Why...why did you massacre those innocent people?"