Over the course of the War, Ryuunosuke had kind of built up an impression of his Servant as an invincible, unstoppable force of nature. His perfect predator, who didn't moralise over the act of murder but just acted, her overwhelming power as inevitable as death itself. It had taken Saber and Archer together to even slow her down on the bridge, and even then she'd gotten away clean.

She'd lost to Caster, of course – but he hadn't seen that himself, and in any case using magic was cheating. In a straight fight, he couldn't imagine her losing.

And then Lancer had dropped in and shattered his illusions as easily as he'd shattered Caster's forcefields.

Now, Ibaraki-douji, the scourge of Heian Kyoto, was crumpled in the middle of a crater, her eyes glassy and unfocused. Lancer crouched beside her, one hand gripping her by the hair and grinding her head into the broken stones. He – or she? Ryuunosuke genuinely couldn't tell – swivelled his head, looking between Caster and her Master on one side, and Risei and Ryuunosuke himself on the other. He was paying no attention to Servant Berserker, crushed in the instant of his arrival and no longer a threat.

Come on, Ryuunosuke thought – to himself, to Ibaraki, he didn't know. Get up. Are you going to let yourself be taken out so easily?

Is this really how it ends for us?

To his surprise, an answer came.

No, it doesn't have to be, came Caster's telepathic voice. Forgive the intrusion, dear, but in fairness all your thoughts were written all over your face anyway. We need Berserker back if we're to have any chance of getting out of this.

Outside their heads, Caster fiddled with her staff, looking very nervous indeed. "Erm, this really isn't what it looks like? I really was just hanging on to the Moderator for… reasons…"

Even as she spoke, her voice continued in Ryuunosuke's head, sounding a lot less nervous. I can get us clear, young man, but you will need to make a distraction.

How?

You still have two Command Spells left, yes?

Ryuunosuke smiled. Say no more.

"I'm sure you are entirely innocent of that particular crime, Caster," smiled Lancer, utterly relaxed. "However, did you forget? You are still my enemy in this Grail War. You, especially, are likely to be troublesome if I let you live. I will permit you to say your goodbyes to your Master. Do so, now. Then fight, or run, or die, as you choose. It will make little difference, but if you can die happier I would prefer that."

"Oh, well, in that case…"

Now, please! Caster sent.

Ryuunosuke didn't have to be told twice – and, more, he didn't need to be spoon-fed a plan, either. Berserker was very simple to use. If she was up and fighting, she'd take care of everything. If she wasn't, his job was to get her there.

That made things easy.

His hand flashed red, and his voice gained that impossible authority he'd heard only once before. "Stand up! Fight! Stay alive!"

Berserker exploded.

Ryuunosuke closed his eyes to the sudden flash of heat, as Ibaraki received a massive influx of energy and used it all to do two things: repair herself, and remove the obstacle keeping her down.

Lancer was sent flying, all his strength doing basically nothing to help him stay on the ground. Mid-air, he sighed, and pointed at Ryuunosuke and Caster's Master. "Unwise."

Something bright gold flew very, very fast at Ryuunosuke's face. He didn't even have time to flinch…

… and then he was a hundred feet in the air.

What?

Ryuunosuke opened his mouth for a manly shriek before he realised he wasn't actually falling. He was standing on some barely-visible plane of force, next to Caster and her Master. Above him, blades whirred, as some weird Renaissance helicopter hovered above them, casting the plane of force from a device on its hull.

Down below, he caught a glimpse of the temple courtyard, now even more thoroughly ruined than it was before, and getting more ruined every second as Ibaraki and Lancer duelled.

"That was very well done," gushed Caster, clapping her hands. "It's so nice when people do what they're asked without further guidance. Thanks to you… and Berserker, I suppose… I was able to teleport us all out of harm's way."

Ryuunosuke looked around. "Where's the old dude?" He really didn't want to lose his best chance of living through all this if Ibaraki was killed.

"Oh, I left him behind. He's not in any danger from Lancer, but it does make them a little more careful, which is good for us. Do hold on tight, I think Lancer's found us," she added. "Have Berserker keep him busy, please?"

Ryuunosuke jumped, as the platform he was standing on was rocked by a titanic hit from below. The spell held, but flickered alarmingly.

Looking down, he saw what looked like chains retract into Lancer's form as Ibaraki smashed him aside, only to be crushed into another crater in return.

"What just happened? Who is that?" said Ryuunosuke.

Caster's confident smile slipped just a fraction. "Ah. Yes… well, that is Enkidu, the clay man from Mesopotamian myth," she said, as if that was going to mean anything to Ryuunosuke.

He looked blankly at her, then shrugged wordlessly.

"For goodness' sake, don't you know anything?" snapped her Master, looking very unkept. His hair was a mess, his tie was crooked, and his eyes were wide. Yeesh. Anyone'd think he'd been having a bad day. "Enkidu! The monster sent by the gods to humble King Gilgamesh! He fought the Humbaba! He bound the Bull of Heaven! He fought the King of Heroes to a standstill!"

"Yeah, I can see he's a badass, but, uh none of that means anything to me," said Ryuunosuke. He turned to Caster. "Teach, can you put it in a way I understand?"

Caster hummed. "Let's see… well, how about this? Enkidu is what happens when the gods make a superweapon, and it works so well that it decides it doesn't want to do what they say anymore."

Oh. Yikes. "How screwed are we?"

Down below, Lancer had apparently given up on taking shots at the airborne Masters in favour of simply punting Berserker around the mountain. Ryuunosuke winced. Ibaraki was tough, but she couldn't take much more of this.

"Oh, very. It may as well be you down there fighting them instead of Berserker for how outmatched she is." Caster hefted her staff. "Of course, I wouldn't be Caster if I didn't have some way to cheat…"

She aimed her staff downwards towards the duelling Servants, runes lighting up around the tip. Far below, somewhere on the side of the mountain, something lit up, and a stream of complicated-looking rune formulae shot towards Caster's staff. They all gathered together into one of the orbiting symbols, and with a mechanical-sounding clunk something fired off, flying like a bullet towards the fight.

It hit Ibaraki and knocked her sprawling, out of the way of a vicious slash by Lancer.

Ryuunosuke raised an eyebrow. "Your aim needs work."

Caster's smirk returned full-force. "Does it?"

"You just shot my Servant!"

"Did I?"

"I just saw you do it!"

"Did you?"

Caster's Master sighed. "Caster, I really hope you know what you're doing…"


Hisau Maiya knew what she was doing.

She'd spent her entire life as a soldier of some kind, with maybe half of that acting as an assassin for Kiritsugu. While he had always handled the more dangerous jobs personally, she'd watched him and learned everything she could. After all, she wanted to be useful to him, didn't she?

The plain fact was, it took a certain kind of mind, or a certain level of experience, to expect a rocket to come flying through your windows and detonate, sending shrapnel to shred everything inside a building. Veteran soldiers might develop that kind of razor's edge reactions, although almost certainly at the cost of severe difficulties adjusting to home life.

This was why Kiritsugu and Maiya preferred to attack veteran soldiers at home, where their attempts to settle back in to a routine would work against them.

For your average magus? Forget about it.

Still, Maiya was not in the habit of underestimating her enemies, so taking another cue from Kiritsugu's book, she'd adjusted to compensate for the worst-case scenario.

It took a frankly paranoid mind to expect the landmines and tripwires set up outside the exits. And beyond that, it would take someone truly absurd to spot her sniper's nest under pressure, much less assault her position.

It looked like Kotomine Kirei was truly absurd.

Maiya twitched aside, and three Black Keys embedded themselves up the hilt in the tree she'd been resting against. The Executor came in, face impassive, drawing another set of the throwing swords from his jacket as he advanced.

Somehow, as soon as she'd fired her rocket, Kirei had exited the church at speed, blowing right past her traps. He'd thrown his first set of Black Keys directly at Maiya, as if she hadn't even bothered to hide, and since then she hadn't had the room to be surprised any more.

She dodged to her left, into the woods, drawing her Calico and spraying a hail of bullets behind her one-handed. They all went wide, but Kirei slowed to cross his arms over his head – which meant he didn't notice the flashbang grenade Maiya had prepared with her off hand.

Maiya spun into a crouch, up on aim, and this time none of her shots missed.

They might as well have, though.

The five-round burst plinked off Kirei's priest's robes like water off a raincoat, and Maiya groaned. Armoured, and reinforced too if she was any judge. A headshot might work, but Kirei was too canny for that. If she'd brought armour piercing rounds, or gained the distance to use her sniper rifle…

No use complaining now. She was not going to take Kirei out like this. Her first attempt failing was unfortunate, because he'd be even more on his guard after this, but part of being a professional was knowing when to cut and run.

Time to go.

Maiya pulled a flare gun, and shot a bright red star into the sky.

Then she turned and sprinted as fast as her legs would take her towards the entrance to the church grounds. If she could just make it to the road…

She almost made it.

Her thigh exploded in pain, and she tripped, rolling to a halt. She wrenched her Calico around, but it was kicked out of her hand – and then she was on her back, with Kotomine Kirei stood over her.

"You are not the Magus Killer," he said. "Where is he?"

Maiya said nothing. In her head, she ran through everything she still had on her. Her knife? No. Her backup pistol? Not accessible from this position. A grenade? Kirei would just avoid it.

There was only one thing that could work.

All she'd have to do was kill herself to use it.

Well. That made things very simple.

"How did you react so quickly? How did you know I was there?" she asked. Partly because she needed to know what mistake she'd made, mostly to distract Kirei from her hand sneaking towards her belt.

If Kirei noticed it, he didn't say so. Instead, he replied, "Lancer told me. Their sensory abilities are really quite impressive. As soon as you arrived, I knew where you were." He paused, and quirked his lips in a half-smile. "The other Masters are safe in the catacombs beneath the church, of course. All you have done is rearrange the furniture. I wonder, what will Emiya Kiritsugu say when he sees your corpse, and learns you have failed utterly? Will he be angry with himself? Will he be disappointed in you? Will he mourn?" He leaned in eagerly.

"None of these," said Maiya with absolute conviction. "I am merely a tool to him. He will reassess, adjust, and kill you all the same." Her hand snaked closer, closer, to the canister at her belt.

Kirei lost his smile. "How… boring. Go with God, then, tool of the Magus Killer."

He raised his sword.

And that was the moment when Irisviel von Einzbern drove her car straight through the wall onto the church grounds.

"Wooo!" she squealed, window down and hair flying. She spun the wheel, and the car careened into a long skid, neatly avoiding Kirei's reflexively thrown swords. Out the window flew a shining silver wireframe bird, which dove directly at Kirei.

Maiya saw her chance, and shoved with all her reinforced might while Kirei was distracted. He rolled off her, hands partly tangled by Iri's construct.

Now that Iri was here, Maiya could press her advantage… but there was no need for a suicide attack now that her escape route was here. The best thing to do was escape, and come back another day.

Preferably, with armour-piercing rounds.

She tumbled into the back of the car, and flinched back as two Black Keys thrust themselves through the door.

"Drive," she said.

"You got it!"

Iri accelerated, and in moments the church was left far behind. They continued on their way, taking the back roads that circled around Fuyuki proper. With everything happening in the city, it was basically impossible to get a car through it right now, even for a driver as… unique as Iri.

"What went wrong?" said Iri.

"Lancer detected me, and told Kotomine Kirei," said Maiya, tiredly. "I don't know how."

"Did you manage to get a shot through? Even a scratch-"

"No, nothing. Armoured priest robes. He'll be on his guard now. I can think of a few ways to get through it, but him knowing we're coming makes things hard. I might have to ask Assassin for ideas."

"Well, you just let me know if you need anything. Kiri is busy setting things up for later in the War, so I think we're best to head back home for now. Your leg needs healing, for one thing… Is everything okay with Serenity?"

Maiya thought back. Assassin had sounded as cold as ever when giving the signal to take out Lancer's Master, but she'd heard the sounds coming from the mountain even on the other side of the city. For a moment, she thought it was an earthquake, or a volcano erupting. Despite how easily Kotomine Kirei had taken her out, she was very glad not to have to worry about what on Earth was going on over there.

No, neither she nor Assassin had any business fighting head on against the kind of monsters this War was bringing out of the woodwork.


Lancer was a goddamn monster. Ibaraki knew monsters, and her instincts as a monster herself were screaming at her. It was like those times, mercifully rare, when Shuten had gotten really scary.

Her comeback had started well enough. Ibaraki wasn't stupid, and noticed at once that Caster had teleported herself, her Master, and Ryuunosuke out of danger, but not the Moderator. In other words, everyone she actually cared about keeping alive was out of harm's way, but Lancer couldn't use any really destructive attacks for fear of hitting the person he was trying to rescue. Ibaraki was an old hand at taking advantage of things like this.

Namely, she flexed her power and set everything on top of the mountain on fire. She didn't have a lot to spare, but if she could distract Lancer for even a moment it'd be worth it.

Or, that had been the plan for about half a second before Lancer lunged with a flat palm to her chest, and knocked her clear through the temple wall.

Ibaraki flew, trailing fire like a comet. She would have screamed aloud as she crashed through over a foot of solid stone, but for one thing the pain of impacting the wall was nothing compared to how Lancer had hit her in the first place, and for another she was pretty sure her lungs had been temporarily liquidised by the shockwave of Lancer's palm strike.

None of this had slowed her down appreciably.

After Ryuunosuke's Command Spell, Ibaraki had been forcibly restored to fighting fit, and could even now feel the lingering effects, helping her roll to her feet and shake off the dizziness. She'd seen Shuten fight on after taking grievous wounds, seeming incredibly blasé about things like a hole in her stomach or an arm bent the wrong way. It might have been because Shuten was just impossibly sturdy…or, Ibaraki supposed, because Shuten was simply too drunk to feel pain most of the time.

This wasn't anywhere near that. But, aside from her dwindling reserves, it was keeping her in the fight so far.

Which was good, because things hadn't improved much since the start of the fight.

Ibaraki hadn't had another chance to go after the Moderator, and if she was being honest had kinda lost track of where he even was. She had bigger things to worry about.

Ibaraki skidded to a halt, sword ploughing a furrow in the ground. Lancer closed in. They'd started out with human-looking hands. Now? Not so much.

Ibaraki pivoted aside to avoid a strike from an arm flattened and sharpened to look like an axe of exquisite craftsmanship. She turned, planted her feet, and swung her own bone blade into Lancer's midsection.

This was the kind of blow where it didn't really matter where you hit. If you connected – even if what you connected was ribcage, or arm, or armour, or a castle wall – the only thing left would be powder.

She hit. There was no doubt about that.

She skidded sideways a full foot, even braced as she was. The shockwave rattled her teeth, and sent her hair flying.

Lancer… went considerably further.

They were blasted upwards and away as if fired from a cannon, but Ibaraki knew better than to assume this meant she'd actually had any effect. When she found them, mid-air, she noticed their shoulder had sprouted a shield – which appeared to have not even been scratched by Ibaraki's blow. Lancer's left arm pointed at her.

Ibaraki had only a moment to process the sight – and then chains shot forth from their sleeve, golden blurs in the afternoon light. Only Ibaraki's recent experience with deflecting Archer's arrows let her swat them aside, muscles screaming with the effort, and they punched deep into the soft earth behind her.

Then they went taut, and Lancer's right arm flowed like, well, clay – reforming itself into a flat, spear-like blade. Ibaraki's eyes widened with a terrible premonition about what was going to happen.

A green spell blasted into her side, knocking Ibaraki to one side just as Lancer basically appeared at their anchor points. Their right arm buried itself briefly in the ground – before the mountain's structural integrity basically gave up from the speeds involved, and everything exploded.

Ibaraki backpedalled, accepting a hundred tiny cuts to her arms and face to protect her vital areas, as shards of rock shot past her at bullet speeds. Creating space wasn't actually a good move against Lancer, because their chains were every bit as destructive as Archer's arrows and twice as annoying to deal with, but she needed a moment to suss out just what Caster had done to her this time.

For basically the entire fight, the Servant of the Spell had been interfering. You might have thought she'd, you know, actually attack Lancer, but it looked like Caster had other plans. Whenever Lancer looked like they might manage to break through Ibaraki's guard, she would be knocked out of the way by what felt like sledgehammer blows, but on closer inspection were part intricate insectile mechanisms, part flying collection of runes.

Every time they slammed into Ibaraki, they burrowed into her flesh, and left arcane designs traced onto her skin. They glowed unnaturally in a multitude of colours, and in basically any other circumstance Ibaraki would have torn herself apart trying to get the parasites out – except that in her own way, Caster was actually helping.

The first one had made her tougher. The second, faster. The third seemed to have given her better control over her flames. This one… Ibaraki felt the cuts on her skin close, fast even for her, and smiled.

Caster's help was incredibly annoying, but it certainly was useful.

Ibaraki was slightly worried about the fact that each design the insects formed on her skin seemed to be forming part of a larger whole, but she had no time to think about it. All she could do was trust that, at least, Caster didn't intend for her to die here.

In the meantime, she'd accept whatever help she was given.

She grit her teeth, gripped her sword, and charged in swinging. Harder, faster, tougher than she'd ever been.

She lasted about five seconds.

Ibaraki was sure Lancer hadn't started off this battle all that much stronger than she was. But every hit was countered with one of equal strength, Lancer's arm transformed into an axe or shield or spear or whatever would best ruin her day at that particular moment. She spun and dodged and ran and weaved, but Lancer moved with an eerie grace, unhurried and precise but faster than any Servant Ibaraki had seen save Archer.

She couldn't get away – even when she leapt clear and let loose a hundred-pronged blast of flame, an image of the Orochi itself bearing down on Lancer, they weathered it like it was a warm breeze, latched chains around her ankle, and slammed her to earth.

Fire erupted from her body in all directions, power she couldn't spare. Partly it was to blunt the force of her impact, partly to soften the ground, and it barely worked. She landed on her hands and knees in soil, and threw herself forward.

Lancer seemed to have had the same idea, and rocketed forward. Ibaraki pulled back her sword, and gathered everything she had into it. Every last scrap of power, every last ounce of strength. Her own, Caster's, Ryuunosuke's, everything. Her sword flared red, then white, then almost vanished from view beneath the roiling, shimmering heat haze.

Ahead, Ibaraki saw Lancer approaching at speed, and had only an instant to notice two things. The first was the beautiful mace their left arm had turned into. The second was the small smile on Lancer's face. Was it a challenge? Satisfaction? Confidence? Ibaraki couldn't tell.

The two met halfway.

Ibaraki came off worse.

She felt the shockwave from hitting Lancer as a dull thud throughout every inch of her body. It would have been the hardest hit she'd ever felt – including Saber's sneak attacks, including Archer's Noble Phantasm, including that jerk Watanabe-no Tsuna cutting off her hand, including everything – if it hadn't been for Lancer's mace crumpling her shoulder into a ruined mess at the exact same moment.

Her hardened body carved a trench into the mountainside, and she felt every inch of it. She rolled to her feet, the Command Spell helping her up once again. Lancer came in, an unstoppable white and gree blur skipping over the ruined landscape, and Ibaraki hefted her sword one-handed and called for her fire once more.

It didn't come.

She'd used too much.

Ibaraki swung anyway, and her sword hummed through the air, a blow to rend mountains and part seas – but it was batted aside with a sound like thunder.

Then, it was over. Ibaraki felt a hand lock around her throat as she was slammed down again.

Lancer looked entirely unworried. Ibaraki had fought, harder than she'd ever fought in her life, but for all the effect she'd had she may as well have been gently tickling the other Servant.

"An interesting challenge," they said. "I shall have to destroy Servant Caster soon. Their spells would have shamed any wizard from the Age of Gods, but I cannot deny their effectiveness. With their aid you became potent indeed. The mistake lies with you. You gave too much of yourself on the way here, and failed to leave yourself enough power. Now, all your strength is useless without something to fuel it." They stopped, and considered. "Also, you chose to fight me. That was quite a large mistake."

Ibaraki rattled out a pained breath. Her wounds began closing, but slowly, far too slowly. She would have said something… but there was nothing to say. She had fought, and lost. Despite the pain in her limbs, despite her arm hanging limp, she stared defiantly into Lancer's eyes, fiery yellow into grass green, and prepared to die.

To her surprise, she found herself thinking of Ryuunosuke. She'd always thought of him as just a tool to keep herself summoned. She should have thought of him as a second chance to leave a legacy – the last oni, in spirit of not in body. Too late to teach him anything now.

Oh, well. Lancer was here, so probably everyone here was going to die in short order. At least she'd never have to listen to any more of Caster's annoying prattle.

And, because apparently Caster could hear straight lines even in someone else's head, Ibaraki heard that too-jolly voice in her head.

Hold on, dear, just this last spell to go! This will be a doozy, so brace yourself!

A pure white spell smacked into the small of Ibaraki's back. She prepared for whatever it was. A last-minute injection of magical energy? A boost to everything that had gone before?

She waited for whatever miracle Caster had decided now was the best time to perform.


The mechanical insect slipped under Ibaraki's skin, and began tracing its own design. When it was done, nothing happened.

To Ibaraki.

But the pattern of runes Caster had been drawing on her skin the entire time began glowing white.

And so did the other pattern, the one that she'd been drawing for most of the afternoon. Lines of light traced themselves across the mountain, until the entire thing was covered with intricate loops and whorls, each containing a rune in complex arrangements and patterns.

Around the mountain, mechanical stakes, driven deep into the earth and placed at key points in a very specific formalcraft circle, lit up, and began spinning. A white glow surrounded them as they drew power in – more, and more, and more, from an endless well.

"What's going on?" asked Ryuunosuke.

Caster laughed, a high and triumphant sound. "Leylines, boy! Fuyuki's built on a strong one, and this is where it's closest to the surface! As much power as we could ever use, right there for the taking – all it needs is a direction! And I choose…" her smile took on a wicked edge. "Straight into Servant Berserker."

Ryuunosuke gulped, hearing the shrieks coming from down below. "She doesn't sound like she's enjoying it…"

"Oh, she'll be fine. Probably. Now, boy, the finishing blow. Nice and specific, like we discussed, you get more power that way…"


Ibaraki howled in pain as power thundered through her body.

She exploded, expelling fire in a vain attempt to vent the impossible amounts of energy her spirit core was being forced to contain, and Lancer was sent flying back.

Every wound was healed in a moment, flesh knitting itself back together in ways that would have been wasteful at any other time but now only served to slightly lessen her burden.

Somehow, she still managed to hear Ryuunosuke's voice.

"By the power of this Command Spell…"

Ibaraki grinned savagely, and looked towards Lancer. If she had any insight into her Master at all, she knew exactly what was coming. She dug her bare feet into the ground.

"…knock his fucking head off, Berserker!"

She moved.

Every iota of power was directed into propelling her forward, creating a plume behind her visible across the city. Her legs uncoiled, empowered by her Madness Enhancement, her Prana Burst, and her Command Spell to fire her at Lancer at speeds even Archer couldn't match.

It didn't even take an instant.

She was behind Lancer, her sword out, incandescent with the power pouring off it.

Lancer stood behind her, entirely unable to react to the speed Ibaraki had shown.

Even in the roar of Ibaraki's inferno, the sound of their head hitting the dirt was like a coffin lid slamming shut.

Ibaraki turned, and sneered triumphantly at Lancer's headless body, still standing upright.

"Your mistake was underestimating an oni of Mount Ooe," she spat. "Think on your failure, and be glad I have other foes… to…"

She stared, heart sinking.

This wasn't fair.

This was impossible.

But the stump of Lancer's neck bulged outwards, and developed details, like a sculptor creating a statue in fast-forward. In seconds, Lancer stood, as perfect as when they entered the battlefield.

"Impressive," they said. "By the way, the Moderator is now clear, in case you were wondering. A good thing, too. It becomes clear I have held back quite long enough." Golden energy crackled around their form.

Ibaraki backed off, terrified despite the power thrumming through her soul. Any other day, any other foe, she would have said she could challenge the gods themselves.

Now, she wasn't sure it would be enough.

"Age of Babylon."

Lancer slammed their hand on the dirt.

And the top third of Mount Enzou threw itself at Ibaraki.