The Power of a Girl to Sever Suffering
"That body…" the King murmured, eyeing Paracelsus.
The mage's form was a wreck—his exterior shattered, his Spirit Core cracked. That he remained manifested was a miracle.
"They deemed me useless," Paracelsus said, voice heavy. "I made contact with the enemy but brought no results. I fled their purge, and this is my state."
He coughed, blood spilling from his lips.
That body… what is he…
"Even your 'duty' wasn't forgiving enough to overlook your failure, huh, mage?" the King sneered. "Pathetic."
"Indeed," Paracelsus admitted, staggering. "A fitting end for a vile mage—consumed by our own. But…"
He raised his face, trembling.
"…that won't satisfy you, will it? To live freely, to die unjustly—I can't choose such a path. How… half-hearted of me."
"You…" Mordred growled.
"If my life must end," Paracelsus said, "let it be by your hands. If slaying evil is the mark of true heroes…"
He swayed, spitting blood, barely standing.
He went this far…
"What did you come to tell us?" the King demanded. "Your philosophy? Did you think it so grand you'd flaunt it even in death? Parading your pathetic way of life?"
"No," Paracelsus said faintly. "My way of life… doesn't matter. I've already bowed to omnipotence twice."
He drove his sword into the ground, struggling to stand.
"I came to tell you…" His gaze met theirs, unwavering. "That lives were saved by you. Your path is just, radiant with light."
Eyes filled with faith in light, love for life—yet shadowed by regret for failing to uphold them.
"That… might be my shallow attempt at atonement," he admitted.
Golden particles shimmered—the sign of his departure.
"So, please… deliver the final blow," he pleaded. "A foolish mage must fall to the righteous."
"…"
"That's the immutable law of the world," he said. "The supreme end everyone desires."
"Bring it on—!" Mordred began.
"Wait," the Master interrupted, stopping her.
"—Leave him to me," Rikka said.
"Hey, what…?" Mordred faltered.
"I don't want to order anyone to cut down a dying man," Rikka said. "I'll handle his end."
"Senpai…" Mash whispered.
"Maybe… I'll let the 'one who prayed' finish him," Rikka added. "But for now, it's me."
Master…
"He's already half-dead," the King said. "If he can't even end himself, put him out of his misery."
"Got it," Rikka said. "I'll bear the shame of 'finishing a dying Servant.'"
Rikka…
"It's fine," she said, smiling brightly. "I'm ready for this."
To stand shoulder-to-shoulder with everyone, to be myself—I won't run.
"Watch, Mash," Rikka said. "My small back."
With that, she stepped forward.
"You'll grant… my final wish?" Paracelsus asked.
"Yeah," Rikka replied. "You're a good person."
"…What?" he murmured.
"You risked your life to teach us something important," she said. "I respect you for that."
"—"
"If we'd met differently, we could've been friends," she added.
"…!!" Paracelsus's eyes widened.
"If wills can connect, I could befriend even a god," Rikka said. "That's my belief."
"She's a marvel who befriended gods," the King added. "You? She'd swallow you whole."
Exactly.
Encounters and fate—if the circumstances were different…
"That's… wonderful," Paracelsus said softly. "Truly wonderful."
"So… now…" Rikka took a stance—pankration, ready for combat.
"I'll defeat you," she said. "Not out of hatred or grudge—just to overcome the obstacle you represent."
"What a splendid…" Paracelsus began.
"One strike," Rikka said, grinning.
"Huh?"
"One strike each," she declared. "You take me down, or I take you down. One blow decides it."
"…I see," Paracelsus said. "Even a villain like me gets a chance to redeem himself…"
"A fight's gotta be fair!" Rikka said.
"…Understood," he replied.
He raised his sword, five stones floating around him.
"With this dying body's full spirit… I'll stand in your way."
"Here I go—'Instant Enhancement'!" Rikka called.
His sword aimed slowly.
Rikka infused her body with magic.
"Wait!" Mordred shouted. "A Servant's Noble Phantasm will—"
"Watch," the King ordered.
"'Combat Gear'—Full Enhancement!" Rikka layered more magic.
"—I summon the true Ether," Paracelsus intoned. "My obsession, my will's form—"
Primordial Ether coalesced, a divine secret forged to crush the foe before him.
"Command Seal, one stroke!" Rikka shouted. "My name is Rikka Fujimaru—here I come!!"
She shattered the ground, charging with magic pushed to its limits.
"DAAAAAHHHH—!!!" she roared, her body thrumming, her fist raised in a desperate strike.
"Tch, close call," the King muttered.
"'Sword of the Elementalist'!" Paracelsus declared.
His sword glowed at its critical peak, ready to unleash.
"Master!" Mordred yelled.
"Senpai!!" Mash cried.
Make it…!!
The outcome hinged on a single moment.
"Para—Guh!" Paracelsus faltered, his body crumbling from mana exertion, delaying his strike.
"This is—!!" Rikka roared.
Ether, magic sword, a future of death—she faced them all without slowing.
That fleeting moment decided it.
"My resolve as a Master—!!!" she screamed.
The battle was settled.
"—Magnificent," Paracelsus said.
Rikka's fist pierced his torso, shattering his Spirit Core.
"You are… truly strong," he said.
"It's just mercy-killing a dying man," Rikka murmured. "Not strength."
"No," Paracelsus countered, smiling faintly. "You didn't flee suffering or avert your eyes from hardship. With compassion and resolve, you crushed your foe."
"That… is your strength."
"Goodnight, Paracelsus," Rikka said. "I'll never forget the kind mage who stood in our way."
"…If," he whispered.
"Hm?"
"If… there's a next time…"
In his final moment—
"Let's be friends, Paracelsus," he said.
"Looking forward to it," Rikka replied.
With a smile, Paracelsus faded away…
"…We'll meet Servants again," Rikka said softly, opening her fist.
"If there's another encounter, I'll forge those bonds."
Looking to the sky, the last Master of humanity spoke.
A hand rested on her head.
"Gil?" Rikka turned.
The King stood beside her, unnoticed until now.
"—Well done," he said.
"!"
"Even if he was half-dead, making it a fair fight… your girl power's reached a different kind of perfection."
"…Think I can make up for this?" she asked.
"Unlikely," the King replied.
"No way! I won't give up!" Rikka protested. "Even Heracles had a wife—there's hope!"
For the kindness that kept her prayerful hands free of blood, my heartfelt thanks.
Thank you, Rikka Fujimaru. I'm proud to be your Servant.
"A modern Heracles reborn!" Shakespeare exclaimed, trembling with awe. "A roar that pierces the heavens! Legs that shatter the earth! A fist swung without hesitation!"
"Marie's better at striking, though," someone noted.
"Bravery that humbles Amazons! Might that echoes in Olympus! Truly, you are a modern—"
"Heracles was great at chokeholds, huh?" another interrupted. "Funny, I'm pretty good at them too—"
"Gaaah! I give! Gi—!" Shakespeare yelped, flailing.
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