Bang!
A dull gunshot echoed—and a vivid blossom of blood bloomed in the night.
From the moment that ordinary-looking bullet pierced Kayneth's body, the outcome had already been decided.
With the aid of a Command Spell, Iskandar arrived with Waver at full speed. The lightning surging along his blade smashed into Emiya Assassin mid–Noble Phantasm, driving him back—yet Assassin's condition still looked distinctly poor.
A Command Spell paired with Iskandar's full-power strike carried force comparable to the release of an average Servant's Noble Phantasm.
As that most violent thunder crashed onto the battlefield in the most domineering way imaginable, Waver's voice rang out for everyone to hear.
"Go—save Professor Kayneth!"
It still sounded boyish. But the resolve inside it carried, softly reverberating through the chaos.
"We made it…"
Waver saw that Kayneth hadn't been killed outright, and he let out the breath he'd been holding—only to feel fear coil tighter in his chest.
None of the other Servants spoke. Not even Iskandar said anything. He simply stared at Waver in silence.
"Wh-What is it, Rider? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Under that gaze, Waver felt unsettled. He looked up at Iskandar—at the strange expression on the Conqueror King's face.
He didn't understand. They'd saved Kayneth. Shouldn't that mean relief?
So why—
He got his answer from Assassin, who was already withdrawing.
"Tch…"
Emiya Assassin sensed the Origin Bullet's effect taking hold. He cast one cold glance at Kayneth—an expressionless look that belonged to someone staring at a corpse.
Then he looked at Ritsuka and Irisviel—at Saber and Marshal Gilles—at Cú Chulainn standing guard as well.
He understood immediately.
This was the end of it for tonight.
He lowered his gun, turned without hesitation, and melted into the darkness.
Cú Chulainn's interference had been unpredictable. Even so, while Assassin hadn't eliminated every target, killing Kayneth still fulfilled part of the contract. He knew his own methods better than anyone.
Kayneth was doomed.
Even if he somehow survived, he'd be a complete ruin—incapable of posing any threat.
By any meaningful measure, this was still his victory.
Yet as he looked back one last time—at Ritsuka, at Irisviel—an emotion he couldn't name surged again in his chest.
There were things he wanted to confirm.
But in the end, he couldn't remember. Couldn't understand. Couldn't find words.
And still, he never forgot the one immutable truth:
They were his targets. Enemies that had to be removed to protect the world.
For people destined to die by his hand, there was nothing worth saying.
Iskandar watched Assassin vanish into the dark, brow furrowing—yet he made no move to chase.
Without the Gordius Wheel, Rider's greatest advantage was gone. He'd already pushed his remaining capabilities to the limit just to force a rescue. Pursuing an Assassin even Lancer had struggled to catch would be nothing but wasted time.
Iskandar surveyed the field. He looked at the other Servants gathering around them, and his fist tightened.
He prepared himself for a final stand.
This war was already lost—and it was a catastrophic defeat.
At the cost of both Kayneth and Diarmuid being removed from the board, they had only managed to eliminate a single human: Bedivere.
And because they'd dragged it out, two more factions—Berserker and Caster—had now converged and boxed them in.
There was no escape.
One misstep, then another, then another—this was what war looked like.
Iskandar's eyes widened. He was ready to face being surrounded and torn apart.
"Professor! Are you alright?!"
Waver finally realized something was terribly wrong. He stumbled toward Kayneth, who was half-kneeling in the dirt, soaked in blood, barely clinging to life. Waver reached out with both hands to support him.
"Hah… all my Magic Circuits… severed… and even my Crest has—"
Feeling the disaster inside his own body, Kayneth braced himself on the ground and forced himself upright.
"Don't touch me, Waver. I'm beyond saving…"
His words came in fragments. He coughed and spat blood again, then lifted his chest as if refusing to stoop even at death's edge.
The three lines of his Command Spells had already vanished when Diarmuid was defeated—proof that he had lost the right to participate in the Holy Grail War.
Perhaps he should have retreated at that moment.
Perhaps he should have run, without looking back.
But—
"I'm sorry, Lancer… My misjudgment brought us to this end. Now not only am I about to die—your wish will never be fulfilled either…"
A memory not long past surged through Kayneth like a tide.
It was shortly after he'd summoned his Heroic Spirit.
Preparing to depart for Fuyuki City, Kayneth sat alone in his office. From between the pages of a book, he drew out the love letter he intended to give Sola-Ui—his fingers rubbing absently over its surface.
Diarmuid sat across from him, patient, awaiting the order to march.
Just as he had in the previous life, Kayneth asked the same question again.
"Lancer. What is your wish for the Grail?"
This time, Diarmuid didn't answer with vague confusion or empty talk of knightly honor.
He gave a clear reply.
"I want to protect you, my lord, until the very end—and see with my own eyes that you overcome fate and live."
Kayneth had been genuinely shaken. Even he hadn't expected a wish like that. He demanded to know why.
Diarmuid's answer never wavered.
"Perhaps… to atone. And to ease my own heart. In life, I failed. I couldn't protect my lord forever. This time, I want to make up for that regret."
The sins of his living days still bound him. They were his deepest pain—his never-forgotten guilt.
Even as a Servant, he thought of atonement without cease.
Because he could feel it—
This was his portion of—
Fate.
"Fate…" Kayneth murmured.
He forced himself to straighten, then tilted his head toward Waver. Something complicated fermented in his gaze.
"Waver…"
"Professor…"
Under that stare, seeing Kayneth reduced to this, Waver stood trembling—unable to step closer, unable to walk away.
"Waver Velvet!"
The next instant, that familiar voice—acidic and cutting—rang in Waver's ears once more, making him reflexively snap to attention.
"Yes!"
"Although I've said it before, I'll say it again here: in my eyes, your thesis is utter garbage. Pure nonsense from beginning to end."
Waver clenched his fists.
The same old words.
The same old denial and contempt.
The disdain of noble magi and prodigies toward commoners like him.
Only this time…
He should have been able to refute it easily.
Because Kayneth had lost everything.
Because Kayneth was about to die.
A man without his Crest, without his Circuits, without even his life—what right did he have to criticize Waver now?
And yet Waver couldn't speak.
Not a single word.
Because after everything he'd lived through, he'd come to understand realities he'd never understood before—and he'd seen in both Kayneth and Iskandar things he'd lacked all his life.
So when faced with this outcome, Waver found he couldn't bring himself to argue.
"I… understand…"
Just as he was about to accept that harsh truth—to admit his own foolishness—
Kayneth's tone abruptly shifted, and that same harsh voice cut him off before he could finish.
"Idiot. Don't you dare agree."
"As a magus, what are your achievements and ideals worth if you let someone else's reality smother them?!"
"Waver Velvet!"
"Yes!"
Waver straightened again.
"A student is the only result a teacher leaves behind. And unfortunately, even now, you are still—completely—a failure."
Waver lowered his head, fists tight, silent.
Kayneth continued, cold and merciless:
"I know you're furious right now. But that is reality. That is what a magus is."
"If you want to prove something right or wrong, you don't do it with words. You do it by smashing someone else's reality with your own—and placing your results on the table so openly that everyone is forced to shut up."
"And if you still refuse to accept that, then…"
Waver's eyes widened. He looked up at Kayneth beneath the moonlight, his whole body trembling at what came next.
"Go. Prove it with your own reality."
"Professor Kayneth… your wounds—"
"Don't concern yourself with that. A mere fatal injury."
"My death is already predetermined. My Magic Circuits are severed. I have less than thirty percent of my Crest left. There's no saving me."
"And I remember—you wanted to prove that bloodline theory, that millennium-old aristocratic inheritance, is wrong. Isn't that right?!"
Kayneth's eyes blazed. Even as a dying man, the pressure he radiated was greater than at any moment in life.
And—
"Yes! I'm not wrong! I will prove bloodline theory is wrong!"
This time Waver didn't shrink back. He answered with absolute conviction.
"Excellent." Kayneth's mouth curled.
"You truly are an idiot, Waver—challenging me again, the genius born of aristocratic inheritance."
"But I acknowledge your courage."
"So prove it. Repair the El-Melloi Crest—passed down through nine generations."
"Complete the magecraft coursework inside it—work that even I, a genius, could not finish."
"That will be the best result you can possibly present to the world."
"So…"
"Waver Velvet!"
"Yes!"
"In this moment, I, Kayneth—leader of the El-Melloi faction, Lord of the Department of Mineralogy at the Clock Tower—hereby declare you the new heir of the El-Melloi school."
"That is—"
"Lord El-Melloi II."
"I… I…"
Waver's breathing hitched. He understood far too well what that name meant—and what Kayneth's declaration weighed.
A lineage of nine generations.
A faction within the Clock Tower.
And the weight of Kayneth himself.
Even so, Waver had no choice but to grit his teeth and bear it.
Because Kayneth was right.
This was the one chance he would ever have—the only chance—to deny Kayneth and the entire world of magecraft with something undeniable.
"I won't disappoint you!"
Waver dropped to his knees with a heavy thud. He bowed his head to his teacher, then raised both hands and accepted the fragment of Crest Kayneth peeled away with Volumen Hydrargyrum.
The instant it landed in his palms, that Crest—light as a feather—felt as heavy as a mountain.
Because inside it lay the burden of nine generations.
And Kayneth's expectation.
"Good. Very good, Waver. Then I leave it all to you."
"My mana furnace. The experiments I never finished. All of it."
"I can already predict that the El-Melloi school will suffer terribly after my death."
"But I believe you—and my family—will stand back up from hardship and transform."
"And lastly…"
"Lift your head, El-Melloi II."
"You're a Lord now. What kind of pathetic sight is it to sob here?"
"Stand tall. Raise your chest. And prove yourself boldly."
"That… is the final assignment I leave you."
His words faded into something barely audible.
Waver, still kneeling, looked up at the man who had stopped breathing beneath the moonlight—
a man who, even at the very end, maintained that unyielding pride, accepting death with the dignity of an aristocratic magus.
Waver's emotions churned into something too complex to name.
"Is this… fate, Professor Kayneth…?"
His hand trembled as he reached out—then he suddenly turned his head.
"Rider!"
"What is it, kid?" Iskandar crossed his arms, already prepared to unleash another Noble Phantasm. "Ready to fight again? Fine by me!"
"No."
"We're leaving."
"Compared to a decisive battle here, I have something far more important to do."
Waver inhaled, then stood and hoisted Kayneth's body onto his shoulder—though it felt far heavier than it should have.
Iskandar nodded.
"I know what I'm about to do is dangerous. Difficult. It could get me killed."
"Even now I can feel a pressure I can't put into words."
"But I don't know why…"
Waver looked up at Iskandar, pressing a hand to his chest.
"My blood is boiling."
"I think I finally found what you called… the thing worth giving everything for."
"My… ambition."
"…Is that so?" Iskandar fell silent for a moment—then burst into a hearty laugh. "Then congratulations."
He reached out and took Kayneth's body from Waver's shoulder.
"To gain something, you must lose something. Cruel as it is, even I must admit—nothing makes a man stronger faster than loss."
"Now I truly acknowledge you, kid."
"Idiot," Waver muttered, shooting him a look. "Who needs your acknowledgment…?"
Then he lifted his gaze.
The sky was brightening.
A strip of morning sun spilled over the earth and into the ruined forest.
Dawn had come.
And that meant it was time to go home.
Iskandar narrowed his eyes and faced the other Servants. Though he stood alone, his presence did not falter for a second as he declared coldly:
"The sun is up. This night ends here."
"My Master and I have more important matters than fighting."
"A warrior must never be left without a home."
Silence answered him.
Not only because morning had come—
but because after witnessing what had happened, everyone felt the same: there had been enough combat and death for one night.
More important than continuing the battle was letting the fallen be buried.
Just as Iskandar had said—
a warrior must never be left without a home.
"Conqueror King…"
Saber drew in a breath. Then he stepped forward, raised his holy sword, and leveled its blade at Iskandar with unwavering resolve.
"The night is over. This ends here."
"But remember this: our enmity will not end so easily."
"The debt of tonight—I will repay it with my own hands, soon enough."
"Good," Iskandar replied. "I'll be waiting, King of Knights."
The two famed kings met each other's eyes.
Then they both stepped back, declaring the battle finished.
It was daytime.
Let the dead stop meddling in the world of the living.
With Kayneth's body on one shoulder and Waver in hand, Iskandar departed without hesitation—leaving only devastation behind.
And in the forest remained the ones who had "won," yet paid a terrible price: Saber and Irisviel, both weighed down by suffocating heaviness.
"Tch. What a brutal first night," Cú Chulainn remarked, having witnessed it all. "But I guess the board's been cracked open now."
"Doesn't matter to me anymore."
He turned, looked at Ritsuka and Gilles, and smiled with sly meaning.
"Hey! You over there—the sane Bluebeard."
"Protect your Master properly from here on out."
"You won't always have a kindhearted guy like me showing up to save you."
"And a warning: that red Assassin is dangerous."
"Be careful, yeah? I'm off!"
With that, he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the trees—so fast he didn't even give Ritsuka a chance to question him.
"Wait—"
Ritsuka lifted a hand weakly, thoughts tangled into a knot.
Tonight had been chaos beyond chaos.
Emiya Assassin's ambush.
Cú Chulainn's rescue.
Kayneth's death.
None of it felt real. None of it fit.
But as Cú Chulainn vanished, Ritsuka could only let the question die on his tongue.
He turned back instead, looking at Saber and Irisviel—still heavy with grief over the death of the silver knight.
Then he spoke, steady and businesslike:
"Dawn's here. The crisis is over."
"So now… we should talk about payment, you two."
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 120)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 95)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 85)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter85)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter81)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter60)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter66)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 40
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 50
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