The Self Geass Scroll

Lancer knelt in the pool of his own blood, a bitter smile on his face.

Gradually, his physical form dissipated, dissolving into faint wisps of shadow before scattering completely.

He was, after all, the first Servant to exit this war under normal circumstances.

Unlike the Assassins, who were picked off one by one, or Caster, who was entirely obliterated in the spatial quake, none had left behind such a composed departure.

As Lancer turned into spirit particles and vanished entirely, even the pool of blood disappeared along with him.

"Well," Kurumi shrugged her shoulders. "Life is such a fragile thing, after all."

Whether it was Heroic Spirits or Magi, they were just like flowers—easily crushed and destroyed.

"Dalet—Fourth Bullet."

Time reversed, and the wound on her arm healed as though it had never been.

Whether Lancer was alive or not, the effects of the Yellow Rose of Mortality were nothing more than a joke to Kurumi. Reversing time to when she was unharmed meant the curse held no sway over her.

"To overturn a tragic fate…" she muttered.

"What a pathetic wish."

In this particular Holy Grail War, aside from Tokiomi Tohsaka, there wasn't a single participant with a "proper" wish.

"Many people are smiling. I believe they must be right," Saber's soft, smiling face seemed to appear before Kurumi's eyes.

"But... I couldn't protect my country. I failed my duty," Saber had said.

"At that moment, I thought—was I, the one chosen by the Sword in the Stone, the wrong choice?"

"My only wish is for the Grail to erase the existence of Artoria Pendragon."

"Even if it means being forever alone, trapped in an eternal cycle."

"And you, Avenger?"

"Me?" Kurumi tilted her head, amused.

"My wish, huh?"

"Well—"

Amid the desolation, a blue-dressed, silver-armored girl struggled to her feet.

The surrounding area was a wreck, with broken metal shards and rubble still smoldering, wisps of smoke curling up into the air.

Her head was spinning, a dizzying blur of sensations.

"Have I... already died once?" Saber muttered, assessing her situation and realizing that her magical energy and physical strength were down to one-third.

According to what Avenger had explained before, if one's strength and magic were reduced to that level, it meant they had already died once.

"You're so reckless, my lord…" Berserker appeared beside Saber, his form solidifying next to her.

Per Kiritsugu's plan, they were supposed to plummet from several thousand meters above.

"Well, it was just a whim." Saber waved off the dizziness with a slight shake of her head. "I just wanted to take this rare chance to see what the world looked like from that height."

"Oh, Sir Lancelot, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Avenger's potions are truly remarkable."

"Good," Saber said, smiling gently. The serene smile on her solemn face was like a crisp winter stream washing over Lancelot's heart.

"My king, my master… Ah, my Master is calling me." Lancelot bowed deeply to Saber.

"Go, then," Saber waved him off.

Lancelot gazed deeply at Saber, silently offering his thanks.

"Farewell. Thank you… my king."

He knew that from this moment forward, there would be no returning.

Saber exhaled deeply and, guided by the contract, began making her way toward Kiritsugu.

The war was far from over.

Lancer was dead.

Through their bond, Kayeneth could sense this with absolute certainty.

Even with the boost from two Command Seals, Lancer had been completely overwhelmed by Avenger.

That overpowered monstrosity should never have been summoned in the first place. The Einzbern family must have tampered with the Greater Grail in some way to summon that thing.

But at this moment, Kayneth couldn't afford to think about such things. His sole focus was on escaping Winterwood City with Sola in tow.

He had to flee. Far away.

Rip—

A terrifying gust of wind slashed down, splitting Volumen Hydrargyrum in two. Although it didn't destroy the magical artifact entirely, it cut off Kayneth's escape route.

From the distance, the sound of armor clashing against itself echoed as a dignified female knight slowly approached.

Her solemn presence and imposing aura were enough to make even Kayneth, a Lord of the Clock Tower, tremble.

"By my Master's order, none shall pass," the golden-haired knight declared solemnly.

"…Saber."

Kayneth's heart sank into despair.

This was the Saber class, the strongest of all the Heroic Spirit classes—nearly a perfect Servant.

A tidal wave of hopelessness flooded his mind.

The cold, calculated caution of that Magus Killer—it made Kayneth panic as he looked down at Sola, still unconscious in his arms.

There was… no way out.

"Scalp!" (Cut!)

With Kayneth's furious shout, the Volumen Hydrargyrum surged upward, its top half extending into two long, thin ribbons of mercury that lashed out toward Saber.

As they struck, the tips of the liquid mercury transformed into razor-sharp microblades, whirling like crescent moons to slash at Saber.

Even diamond would be cleaved in two by Kayneth's Mystic Code.

But…

Saber didn't even try to parry. The blades of mercury sparked against her bright silver armor, only to be deflected.

"It's useless," Saber said coldly, slashing horizontally with her invisible sword. The blade cut cleanly through the liquid mercury, severing the Volumen Hydrargyrum at the waist.

A lock of red hair floated in the air before Kayneth's eyes, sliced cleanly in two.

"Sola!" He screamed, frantically checking on the woman in his arms.

Saber's attack had been precise and controlled, only cutting through the Volumen Hydrargyrum and trimming a few strands of Sola's hair.

"Give up," Saber said, her sword pointed directly at him.

Kayneth collapsed to the ground, clutching Sola helplessly.

Click, click.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the night. A tall, thin man approached, the faint glow of his cigarette visible through the dark.

He seemed lost in deep thought, but there was also a certain resolve in his gait.

It was Kiritsugu, the Magus Killer hired by the Einzberns as a bodyguard.

But Kayneth's eyes widened in shock as they fixated on Kiritsugu's right hand.

There, on the back of Kiritsugu's hand, was a glowing Command Seal, its sword-like shape swirling with a blood-red aura.

A Master—Kiritsugu was a Master.

Of course... of course... Kayneth thought bitterly. He should have realized it earlier. The Einzberns should have had two Masters all along.

Kiritsugu stood over the Lord of the Clock Tower, staring down at the man who had once been so powerful. The memory of Kirei Kotomine slicing Kayneth in half flashed in his mind.

Taking a deep drag from his cigarette, Kiritsugu hesitated.

He was no longer the man he once was.

With a flick of his wrist, a piece of parchment floated down and landed before Kayneth.

A Self Geass Scroll

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