Rin was barely holding on, her circuits burning as she forced herself to keep fighting, but she knew she was outmatched. Illya was toying with her. Every spell, every burst of mana was countered effortlessly. It was like throwing pebbles at a storm and expecting it to stop.
Illya, for her part, looked utterly entertained, twirling a finger in her hair as she watched Rin struggle. "You're surprisingly persistent, Tohsaka. I thought you'd give up after the first few spells. Maybe I should give you a little prize for lasting this long."
Rin grit her teeth, wiping the blood trickling from her lip. "Shut up, Einzbern. If you're going to kill me, get it over with."
"Oh, but where's the fun in that? Besides—"
A blur of blue and yellow slammed between them, forcing Illya to step back. The ground cracked under the force, dust kicking up around them as the presence of something—someone—radiated through the air like a shockwave.
Shirō straightened, Excalibur gleaming as she positioned herself between Illya and Rin. Her chest was heaving, breath quick but controlled, her red hair wild from the sprint up the stairs. Despite everything, despite how insane all of this was, she still stood her ground, staring Illya down.
Illya's eyes widened before she broke into a delighted grin. "Big Sister! You're finally here!"
Shirō didn't return the smile. "Stop this nonsense, Illya! I don't want to hurt you!"
Illya tilted her head, as if considering the request. Then, she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "You always were stubborn. Though, I could've sworn you were a boy. Maybe I was just seeing things?" She shrugged. "Oh well. I guess that doesn't really matter now, does it?"
Rin, still on the ground, pushed herself up weakly. "Shirō—she's not going to listen. You need to—"
"Shh," Illya cut in, pressing a finger to her lips. "The grown-ups are talking, Tohsaka."
Shirō's grip on her sword tightened. "Illya. Please."
Illya sighed dramatically. "You know, if you were anyone else, I'd be annoyed by this. But since it's you—"
Her expression turned sharp.
"You stand no chance against me."
She snapped her fingers.
A hulking shadow emerged behind her, a mountain of muscle and death, red eyes gleaming like embers in the night. Berserker stepped forward, the temple stones cracking under his weight, his mere presence sending a primal wave of terror through the air. His entire being radiated destruction, an unstoppable force that had already proven itself in battle more times than Shirō could count.
"Kill her," Illya commanded.
And Berserker moved.
The world blurred as the giant lunged, swinging his weapon down in a single, devastating arc. Shirō barely had time to react, her instincts screaming as she threw herself to the side. The ground where she had stood exploded into rubble, the sheer force of the attack sending a shockwave through the temple grounds.
Shirō landed in a roll, immediately springing back to her feet. She didn't have a second to breathe before Berserker was on her again, his movements impossibly fast for someone his size. Another strike, another blur of motion—she barely managed to block with Excalibur, but the impact rattled through her bones, her feet skidding back against the temple stone.
She grit her teeth. This wasn't like fighting Archer. There was no finesse, no strategy—just power. Overwhelming, merciless power that crushed everything in its path.
Illya clapped her hands together, looking utterly pleased. "Oh, this is wonderful! I haven't seen you fight like this in years! But I wonder—" Her crimson eyes glowed. "How long can you last?"
Berserker roared, swinging again. Shirō ducked under the attack, darting to the side before thrusting forward with Excalibur. The blade met flesh—only for the strike to barely graze him, like trying to cut through solid steel.
He turned, faster than she could react. A massive fist slammed into her side, sending her flying across the temple grounds. She crashed into a stone pillar, pain exploding through her ribs as she hit the ground hard, coughing violently.
"Emiya-kun!" Rin's voice barely registered.
She pushed herself up, blinking the haze from her vision. She couldn't afford to falter. Not now.
Berserker was already coming again.
She inhaled sharply, gripping Excalibur with both hands. There was no winning this through brute force alone. She needed to be smart. Fast. Precise.
The moment he swung again, she didn't dodge—she stepped forward. The attack barely missed her by inches, the force of the swing tearing through the air. Before Berserker could recover, she twisted, aiming for the gaps in his defense.
Her sword slashed across his side—again, barely a scratch.
But she wasn't stopping.
She moved, weaving through the battlefield, striking wherever she could. It was like chipping away at a mountain with a knife, but she kept going, refusing to let up. She could feel the drain in her body, the exhaustion clawing at her limbs, but she ignored it. She had fought impossible battles before. She would win this one, too.
Illya sighed, pouting. "You're still just as stubborn as ever." She raised a hand. "Fine. Berserker—show her why fighting you is useless."
Berserker's body glowed.
Then, before Shirō could react, the wounds she had inflicted—however minor—vanished.
She froze.
Rin cursed under her breath. "Damn it—he still has his God Hand. He's completely invincible unless we kill him multiple times!"
Illya tilted her head innocently. "Oh, did I forget to remind that? My mistake."
Shirō's mind raced. She was barely keeping up with him, and now she had to kill him not just once, but multiple times? With how fast he regenerated, that was nearly impossible.
And yet—
She exhaled, steadying herself. It's not impossible. I just need to find a way.
Berserker charged again.
She met him head-on.
Steel clashed against steel, the battlefield exploding with energy. Every strike shook the ground, sending sparks and dust into the air. Shirō moved faster, sharper, forcing herself beyond her limits.
She couldn't waste her strength on meaningless attacks. She needed a plan.
And then—an opening.
Berserker overextended for just a second.
She took it.
With everything she had, she lunged forward, Excalibur shining as it carved through the air. The blade struck true, piercing through his chest—
For the first time, Berserker staggered.
Illya's eyes widened. "What—"
Shirō didn't hesitate.
She twisted the blade—then ripped it out.
Berserker's body trembled. His glowing eyes flickered.
Then, with a deafening roar, he collapsed to one knee.
Illya stared in disbelief. "You… you actually—"
A moment later, Berserker's body shimmered.
And then—he stood back up.
Completely healed.
Shirō's breath caught in her throat.
Illya's lips curled into a smirk. "That was one."
Shirō's grip tightened around Excalibur.
She had to do that ten more times.