Chapter 6: Fem's Casa Part 6

The air was thick with tension as the group entered Millarca's newly rented hotel room, the heavy velvet curtains drawn tight against the dawn light creeping over Monte Carlo. A soft yet pervasive silence settled over the room, broken only by the occasional creak of the floor beneath their feet. Millarca moved carefully, gesturing Shirou and Kuroka to follow as she led them to the modest bed where Valerie Tepes lay, her form shrouded under heavy blankets.

Valerie's face was pale, almost blending with the cool white of the pillowcase, and her breaths came shallow and faint, like a soft whisper in the stillness. Millarca's face was marked with worry; her normally sharp, composed gaze was softened by an unmistakable sorrow as she watched her companion's fragile state. Shirou and Kuroka observed from the side of the room, unsure of how to approach the scene in front of them.

Millarca didn't waste time. She glanced at Kuroka, her expression tight with an almost pleading determination. "Can you help her? At least tell us… what's happened to her," she whispered, unable to hide the faint tremor in her voice.

Kuroka nodded, understanding the urgency, and quietly walked to the bedside. Her usual playful expression had faded, replaced by a sober, focused look as she prepared to use her Senjutsu. She took a deep, centering breath, extending her hands just above Valerie's body. As she did, a faint, almost invisible aura shimmered around her fingertips—a warm, gentle glow that pulsed with her life force.

Shirou watched, intrigued by the controlled energy radiating from Kuroka's hands. He had always been curious about different abilities, but watching Kuroka perform her Senjutsu so close to Valerie, the technique took on a new meaning. The connection between Kuroka's hands and Valerie was like watching an intricate dance of energy, as Kuroka moved carefully, tracing unseen lines around Valerie's torso and head.

After several long moments, Kuroka's hands stilled, and she let out a small sigh, her shoulders dropping ever so slightly. She looked over at Millarca and Shirou, her expression shadowed with concern.

"It's worse than I thought," Kuroka said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Her soul… it's been severely damaged."

Millarca's eyes widened in alarm, and she instinctively reached forward, her hand hovering protectively near Valerie's arm as though she could shield her friend from further harm. "Her soul? How… how did it get so damaged?" Millarca's voice was quiet but heavy with restrained desperation.

Kuroka glanced at Valerie, choosing her words carefully. "It's… like her soul was torn apart from the inside, almost like someone was trying to pull something out of it forcibly." She hesitated, glancing back at Shirou and Millarca with a look of frustration. "When someone's Sacred Gear is forcefully removed, especially a Longinus class like the Sephiroth Graal, it causes damage. Sacred Gears are tied closely to a person's soul. They're a part of who they are."

Shirou's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening as he absorbed Kuroka's words. He could feel a flicker of anger rising at the idea of someone subjecting Valerie to such invasive harm. He took a steadying breath, shifting his focus back to the matter at hand.

"But," Kuroka continued, a slight frown creasing her brow, "there's something strange. Despite the damage to her soul, her Sacred Gear is still intact… no, actually, there are two Sacred Gears."

The room fell silent. The unexpected revelation hung heavily in the air, and both Shirou and Millarca stared at Kuroka, clearly shocked. Millarca blinked, her mind racing to make sense of what she'd just heard.

"Two Sacred Gears?" Shirou finally spoke, his voice a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Valerie's Sacred Gear is supposed to be the Sephiroth Graal. And there's only one of those."

Kuroka nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful but tinged with confusion. "That's right. But somehow, there are two within her. And if that's true, there's only one logical explanation." She looked between them, her tone somber. "Her Sacred Gear must have undergone a sub-species transformation, causing it to duplicate itself."

Millarca took a sharp breath, realization dawning in her eyes. "Then… that explains the damage to her soul. They must have managed to take one of the Sephiroth Graals out of her during the ritual." She looked down, her fists clenching at her sides. "They… they hurt her, tore her soul apart to get to it."

Kuroka gave a grim nod. "Yes. Without a doubt. And the damage is extensive… too much for her to heal from on her own. Unless we return the Sephiroth Graal to her, the damage to her soul may become permanent. We're running out of time."

Millarca's jaw tightened, and she forced herself to stand straighter, summoning every ounce of her resolve. "Then our next step is clear," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "We have to find the person who has Valerie's Sephiroth Graal and get it back." She paused, her gaze darkening. "And that person… must be Jester Karture. He was the only one absent when we raided Morte's depot. Elmenhilde didn't have it with her, and Morte wouldn't dare keep it."

Shirou nodded, his gaze focused as he processed Millarca's deduction. "Jester Karture…" he murmured, the name carrying a weight of unease. The more they learned about Jester, the more layers of manipulation and schemes emerged, each one darker than the last.

Without another word, Millarca summoned her familiar—a small, dark bat with piercing red eyes. It fluttered silently into the air, awaiting her command. She whispered instructions, and with a swift nod, the bat darted out the open window, disappearing into the gray morning light as it set out to search for any trace of Jester Karture.

After a moment, Millarca turned back to Kuroka, a hint of desperation in her eyes. "But… is there anything we can do for Valerie right now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kuroka hesitated, and for the first time, a look of uncertainty crossed her face. "Right now… the best I can do is use Senjutsu to stabilize her. It could hold her condition steady, but it won't last. Not with the kind of energy I have left." She glanced away, almost in frustration. "The battle with Morte took a lot out of me. Using Vajra against his mutated form… it drained more energy than I realized."

Shirou, listening carefully, furrowed his brows, intrigued by the concept of Senjutsu. He'd heard of it before but had never seen it used in such a direct, powerful way. Curiosity got the better of him, and he spoke up. "Kuroka… could you explain more about Senjutsu? And… how can it stabilize Valerie?"

Kuroka looked at him, a faint smirk breaking her otherwise serious expression. "Senjutsu isn't like magic," she explained. "Instead of mana, it draws from a person's life force. It sharpens senses, heals or damages others, depending on how it's used. And it allows us to manipulate life energy to a degree—enhancing strength, speed, even creating a protective aura called Touki."

Shirou nodded slowly, absorbing her explanation. "So… you could use it to keep Valerie's soul from deteriorating further?"

Kuroka nodded. "For a while, yes. But my own life force is depleted. I can only keep her stable for a short time before it starts to drain me further."

Shirou's mind worked quickly, processing the limitations and potential solutions, but he could see Kuroka was already reaching her limits. He glanced over at Valerie, whose breathing was slow and shallow. The reality of the situation weighed heavily on him—if they couldn't stabilize her, they might lose her entirely.

Millarca seemed to sense Shirou's thoughts and glanced at him with a mixture of hope and desperation. "Is there… any other way?"

After a moment of silence, Shirou took a deep breath, an idea forming in his mind. "I might… have one solution," he began, his voice hesitant. "There's a magical relic I can use to help with Valerie's condition. It hat has extremely powerful healing abilities. The sheath of Excalibur. In legends, it was said to be capable of granting near-immortality to its wielder, King Arthur. So, maybe we can use it"

Millarca's eyes widened, a flicker of hope in her expression. "The Sheath of Excalibur? You...You have something that powerful with you?"

Shirou nodded, though his face was etched with uncertainty. "I do, but it's a holy artifact. I don't know how it will affect Valerie since she's part vampire."

Kuroka looked thoughtful, her expression calculating. "Valerie's Sacred Gear, the Sephiroth Graal, should make her immune to holy powers. If it's true, then the King Arthur's legendary scabbard shouldn't harm her. Still, how do you have that Scabbard in the first place anyway? Did you stole it from the Vatican somehow, Nyaa?"

"What?! Of course not! I don't need to steal it to have that Scabbard!" Shirou retorted as he tried to defend himself from the accusation of stealing a holy artifact from the Vatican. Still, they have seen him projecting a number of legendary weapon by now, it would seem he won't be able to hide his primary ability for much longer to these two. So, he decided to open up a bit and tell Millarca and Kuroka of one of his ability. "Look! I have an ability to replicate almost any objects that I see through a magic spell called Projection. This includes legendary weapons as well. The scabbard that I'm about to project was also nothing more than a replica of the original, and please... Don't ask how I can get my eyes on it."

""You can replicate legendary weapons?!""

Millarca and Kuroka said loudly in unison while looking at him with a shocked expression.

"So, all of those weapons that you materialize are replicas? And you did it purely with a magic spell instead of a Sacred gear? You truly have a weird yet interesting ability, Shirou-kun." Kuroka exclaimed with Millarca agreeing with her statement.

"I know..." Shirou then took a long, steadying breath, his gaze returning to Valerie's unconscious form. The idea of summoning Avalon—a Divine Construct that had granted King Arthur herself near-immortality—was no small feat. It would drain him considerably, given the precision and scale of the projection, but if it could save Valerie, it was worth any sacrifice.

"Alright," he murmured finally, his voice low but resolved. "I'll try to project King Arthur's Scabbard. But I'll need time, and a lot of concentration. It's not something I can just manifest casually; even with my projection magic, that scabbard is… well, it's in a different league."

Millarca gave him a single nod, her gaze steady, though a glimmer of worry lingered in her eyes. She understood the risk, yet she trusted him. "Take the time you need. Just let me know if there's anything I can do to assist."

Kuroka watched closely, an unreadable expression crossing her face. "Be careful, Shirou. I've seen what happens when even experienced magi push their limits too far. You'll need a lot of mana, and the risk of backlash is high."

Shirou appreciated her cautionary words but was undeterred. Positioning himself next to Valerie, he sank into a meditative state, slowing his breath, quieting his mind, and visualizing the hallowed artifact with meticulous detail. Avalon wasn't just an ordinary artifact, after all; it was a Noble Phantasm crafted by fae hands, a sheath that had once bound Excalibur's power and offered its wielder unparalleled healing. To recreate it required a deep connection with the myth and the memories woven into its very essence.

As his mind delved into the image of Avalon, his hands began to emit a faint, golden glow. The atmosphere in the room grew heavy as a powerful warmth filled the space, like the quiet brilliance of dawn. His mana rippled, condensing into the form of Avalon—a shimmering, translucent sheath imbued with sacred energy.

When it finally materialized, the glow from Avalon bathed Valerie in a soft, otherworldly light. Its energy pulsed gently, enveloping her like a protective cocoon, and a gentle warmth spread through the room, bringing a fleeting comfort to their tense surroundings. Millarca and Kuroka both held their breath, watching intently as the sheath's golden light seeped into Valerie's form, sinking into her core.

A brief silence followed, and for a moment, it was unclear whether Avalon's magic had taken hold. Then, slowly, Valerie's pallor began to soften, her breathing deepened, and the lines of strain around her eyes eased ever so slightly. Her condition, though still frail, was visibly stabilizing.

Millarca exhaled a shaky breath, her hand pressed to her mouth in relief. "It's working…" she whispered, her voice laced with cautious hope.

Shirou maintained his focus, directing the flow of energy through Avalon to ensure a steady connection. "The scabbardis acting as a buffer for her soul," he explained, his voice low and steady, though tinged with strain. "It's mending some of the internal damage, holding her condition stable for now. But… I don't know how long it will last. This projection takes a lot out of me."

Kuroka studied the scene, a small spark of admiration flickering in her gaze as she regarded Shirou's resilience. "You've bought us time, then. Enough to find Jester and retrieve the missing Sephiroth Graal."

A tense silence settled over the group as they let the weight of Kuroka's words sink in. It was true; Avalon had bought them some precious time. But this reprieve was temporary. They needed to act swiftly if they hoped to save Valerie completely.

After a long pause, Millarca spoke, her voice steady but filled with determination. "We'll get that Sephiroth Graal back from Jester Karture. And we'll make sure Valerie is whole again."

With Avalon's energy flowing steadily, the group's resolve solidified in the golden light. The path ahead was dangerous, yet they knew that they were Valerie's only hope.

The bright Monte Carlo morning settled over the city, where the hum of activity pulsed through the market squares and narrow streets. He had left the hotel a while ago, leaving Kuroka and Millarca to watch over Valerie.

Shirou sat up from the bench where he had just ate a quick, casual breakfast of a ham sandwich he'd managed to purchase from a nearby food vendor. The morning sun was climbing higher in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over Monte Carlo. He stretched, glancing down at the alleyway he'd chosen as a resting spot, feeling the sense of resolve solidify in his chest. Today would be a crucial day, and he had much to do if he wanted any chance of getting ahead of Jester Karture.

Brushing the crumbs off his coat, Shirou looked over his shoulder to ensure his supplies were gathered before he took his first step towards the city center. His intention was simple—to scout the area and try to get any lead on Jester's possible location while searching for a good clothing store along the way where he can purchase a new fancy suit to wear at the second round of Fem's Casa tournament that will happen tonight.

The city was an intricate maze of narrow streets and bustling plazas, a setting perfect for someone as elusive as Jester to hide in plain sight. But Shirou knew one advantage he held: Jester needed a substantial source of magical energy to reanimate Goetia. A location with a leyline nexus—the strongest possible point where magical energies converged—would be essential for Jester's plan. And in a city as old and layered as Monte Carlo, there had to be one.

After a while of weaving his way through the crowds, Shirou became aware of an unusual presence following him. He slowed his pace, taking careful, quiet steps to observe without alerting his mysterious shadow. A glint of something dark caught his eye when he passed a reflective shop window—a flash of black hair. He stifled a sigh and turned around, his eyes narrowing slightly, half-expecting the playful smile he was met with.

Kuroka was leaning casually against the corner, arms crossed, giving him a wide, unabashed grin. "Took you long enough, Nyaa." she teased, stepping forward with the elegance of a shadow.

"Kuroka," he began with a measured tone, masking his mild irritation, "why are you following me?"

"Oh, come on, Phantasmal Killer-kun," she said lightly, walking up beside him as if she had every right to be there. "You didn't actually think I'd stay at that stuffy hotel while you're out here tracking down a vampire, did you?" She arched a brow, her tone tinged with both amusement and a little defiance.

Shirou shook his head, exhaling a long-suffering sigh. "I didn't realize I needed to be more specific in asking for privacy." He glanced around at the busy street, wondering if it was worth sending her back, but they'd already covered some distance. Besides, he had to admit, Kuroka's skills in Senjutsu could very well be useful. If she was offering to help, perhaps there was a way to make this partnership work to his advantage.

"Fine," he conceded, turning back towards the main square. "You can come along—but stay close and don't make a scene. This is a recon mission. We're looking for any signs of Jester's presence. Any idea where he might be?"

Kuroka's smile grew, sensing the subtle change in his stance. "My guess?" she replied. "Jester needs a huge magic source, right? A leyline spot strong enough to bring Goetia back to life?"

"Exactly." Shirou nodded, grateful she'd pieced it together. "Leylines are key. The right place could hold all the magical energy he needs to activate Sephiroth Graal and complete his ritual. And he can't do it anywhere else because he needs that exact potency."

She tilted her head, interest glinting in her amber eyes. "Alright then, so the plan is to find this leyline location first. But how do you even plan to search for it? Monte Carlo is a big city."

A determined gleam flickered in Shirou's gaze. "We'll search for areas with the highest concentration of energy. Leylines are naturally drawn to places where historical events, or even powerful people, once existed. If Jester's serious about his ritual, he'll go where he can access the most potent magical current." He gestured down a bustling street, where a series of narrow pathways twisted through the marketplace. "If I can pinpoint the leyline intersection, we can track him—or wait for him to arrive there. And we might be able to set up a trap."

Kuroka's eyes brightened at his explanation. "Not bad," she said, the tone playful but admiring. "You're good at this... almost too good. Are you sure you're not some kind of psychic, Shirou? Because your intuition makes it sound like you've done this before."

Shirou chuckled softly, shrugging it off, but there was a thoughtful look in his eyes. "I've been through enough battles to know how enemies like Jester think. But honestly? I'm still working it out as we go."

They made their way through the city in silence for a time, Kuroka occasionally darting ahead, scouting with a graceful, almost feline precision that reminded him why she was such an effective tracker. After an hour of walking, Kuroka glanced over her shoulder at him with an inquisitive look, especially after he stops in front of clothing stores to do window shopping for several times now. "So, what's the real reason you're out shopping in broad daylight? And here I thought you were a lone wolf on a mission."

Shirou gave a half-smile, a bit amused by her curiosity. "Well, apart from recon, I need a tuxedo."

Kuroka blinked in mild surprise, her smile widening. "A tuxedo? Now this, I have to see," she teased, amusement dancing in her gaze. "Is our ever-serious hero planning to woo someone?"

He didn't miss the teasing lilt in her voice but ignored it, knowing it was better not to play into her games. "Tonight is the second round of the Fem's Casa tournament," he explained. "And apparently, the dress code is a bit strict. If I show up in my usual clothes, I'll stick out—and not in the way I want."

Kuroka laughed, looping an arm around his. "Well, then, count me in. I'll help you pick something that'll make you look... a bit less like a weapon-wielding mercenary." She added the last part with a sly wink, which Shirou chose to ignore.

As they continued their search for a tailor, Kuroka occasionally asked probing questions about the plan to capture Jester. "Let's say we find this leyline place," she mused, watching his expression as they crossed into an upscale shopping district. "You'll set a trap for him there, right?"

"That's the idea," Shirou replied, though he didn't elaborate. His plan wasn't complete yet, and he didn't want to raise her expectations. He preferred not to rely on others' help if he could avoid it, but he was starting to realize that Kuroka might just be an exception.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, and in a rare moment of sincerity, said, "Well, if there's anything I can do... I can help you track the leyline itself with Senjutsu. I can sense the flow of magical energy once we're close. It's something I learned long ago."

Shirou gave her an appreciative nod. "That would help," he replied. He glanced sideways, meeting her playful yet serious gaze, and added, "But didn't your energy take a hit from fighting Morte earlier?"

Kuroka's eyes twinkled with mischief. "A little, but I'm recharged now," she quipped, patting her stomach. "The breakfast I had at the hotel was more effective than I think."

She stretched her arms out, summoning her Senjutsu aura, which flickered like faint, invisible threads of energy dancing in the air. Her senses sharpened, and she focused, eyes narrowing as she whispered, "Let's see..."

They fell into a steady rhythm, Shirou trailing slightly behind as Kuroka led the way with her energy sensing. Her focus grew, her eyes glowing faintly as she turned down different alleys, her senses honing in on the faintest vibrations of magic that pulsed through the ground beneath them.

Minutes turned into an hour as they wove through the city, moving further from the busy streets and into quieter, secluded areas. Finally, Kuroka stopped at the edge of a large open field, overlooking the coast, with Monte Carlo's harbor visible in the distance. She paused, a small smile forming as she took in their surroundings. "This... is it," she murmured.

Shirou scanned the area, taking in the strategic vantage. The leyline's energy flowed here, just as he'd anticipated, its pulse faint but unmistakable. And, crucially, it was well within range of his sniping distance from the harbor. A plan was forming in his mind, one that involved keeping a watch from afar and ambushing Jester at the perfect moment.

Seeing the glint of determination in his eyes, Kuroka leaned in, intrigued. "What are you thinking, Shirou?"

He met her gaze, his tone matter-of-fact but edged with excitement. "A trap. But I'll need to explain more back at the hotel, once we're with Millarca. If I want it to work perfectly, everyone needs to be on the same page."

Kuroka tilted her head, smirking. "So, that's your way of saying you're not telling me anything yet, hmm?"

He gave a light shrug, unfazed by her probing. "Patience," he said, half-teasing. "I promise you'll get all the details soon enough."

She shook her head, her smirk unwavering. "Fine, fine," she said, stretching her arms overhead in a carefree gesture. "I suppose I can wait until we're back at the hotel. But you're lucky I'm not the impatient type, Shirou."

Shirou rolled his eyes slightly at her remark, then turned his gaze back to the harbor, the gears of his mind turning as he mentally mapped out the next steps. He'd need Millarca's familiar, likely stationed somewhere nearby and waiting for her signal, to help keep eyes on this leyline spot once the sun went down. That familiar would alert them to any activity, and if his timing was right, Jester would be lured in precisely when they were ready for him. With everyone in position, they could close in, trap him, and prevent him from completing his resurrection of Goetia.

Beside him, Kuroka was watching him closely, her cat-like eyes assessing his every move. "So, are we still heading to that tailor? Or have you finally remembered that you're more of a workhorse than a show-horse?"

Shirou cracked a rare smile. "I haven't forgotten. But if I have to go through the formality of that tournament, I'll do it properly. We can't draw attention by going in unprepared."

She laughed, a warm sound that seemed to echo across the open field. "Then lead on. Let's get you that tuxedo."

Together, they made their way back toward the livelier part of the city, weaving once more through the winding streets. Despite her teasing, Kuroka fell into step beside him, her presence surprisingly reassuring. There was a silent understanding that had started to grow between them—a mutual respect borne from their shared purpose and the unspoken promise of watching each other's backs.

As they walked, the city seemed quieter, as if waiting with bated breath for the events that would unfold that evening.

As the late morning light filtered through Monte Carlo's skyline, Shirou and Kuroka finally made their way back to the hotel, their mission of reconnaissance for the leyline complete. Their footsteps echoed softly as they entered the opulent lobby and took the lift up, where a fresh tuxedo—one that Shirou had acquired in anticipation of the night's tournament—hung neatly in his hand. The atmosphere between them was quiet, contemplative, as they both replayed the morning's discoveries in their minds, preparing to relay their findings to Millarca.

Once at the door to Millarca and Valerie's suite, Shirou paused, glancing at Kuroka before knocking softly. Millarca answered almost immediately, her eyes carrying a faint shadow of worry as they met Shirou's. He followed her gaze as it flickered back toward Valerie, who was lying still on the plush bed across the room. Her face was calm, almost peaceful, but her color was still a bit pale, and her breathing was faint, even if regular.

Shirou felt a pang of sympathy. "How is she doing?" he asked gently, keeping his voice low. Millarca folded her arms, taking a slow breath as she turned her gaze to her friend.

"Physically, she seems stable," Millarca replied with a touch of relief, though her tone held traces of exhaustion. "But... there's no sign of her waking up. The damage Jester caused—both to her spirit and her magic—is still there, lingering, though it's impossible to tell if she'll recover in time."

Shirou nodded, crossing the room to get a closer look at Valerie. For a moment, he imagined that perhaps if they'd been there sooner, they could have stopped Jester in time to spare her this fate. A few moments of silence hung between them before he spoke. "I'm sorry, Millarca. If we'd arrived earlier, maybe…"

Millarca gave a sad but determined smile, gently shaking her head. "Don't torture yourself over it, Shirou. The only thing we can do now is focus on getting back the stolen Sephiroth Graal and putting an end to Jester's plan, for Valerie's sake." Her words were steady, laced with conviction. She was ready to do whatever it took, and Shirou respected her resolve.

With a nod of agreement, Shirou moved to sit in one of the armchairs, setting his newly bought tuxedo aside. He turned to Kuroka, gesturing for her to join them, then shifted his focus back to Millarca. "So, about that plan," he began. "Kuroka and I have done some reconnaissance. We found what we believe is the site Jester will use for his ritual tonight."

At this, both Millarca and Kuroka leaned in with keen interest, listening intently. "It's an open stretch of land, not more than three kilometers from the harbor where Van Fem's yacht is anchored," Shirou explained. "We confirmed that it's sitting on a strong leyline point—an ideal place to channel enough magical energy to bring back Goetia. And given its proximity to the yacht, it would give him a clear path if he succeeds in reawakening the demon. If he sends Goetia directly to the yacht, he'll have his target in no time."

Millarca's expression darkened at the implications, but she nodded in agreement. "That does make sense. The leyline would give him the necessary magical resources. And with Valerie's Sephiroth Graal in his possession… Well, that gives him almost everything he needs. We have to stop him."

Shirou agreed, his voice steady. "Right. That's why tonight, I'll need you both ready. I have a plan to ambush him at the ritual site before he can finish the summoning."

Millarca arched a brow, her focus fully on him now. "So, how exactly are we going to handle that? I'm assuming you already have the details in mind?"

Shirou took a moment, leaning back in his chair as he collected his thoughts. "Yes. The plan is simple. You and I will attend the Fem's Casa tournament on Van Fem's yacht tonight. During that time, I'll need your familiar stationed at the leyline site, keeping watch. The moment you sense Jester's presence there, have the familiar alert us."

Millarca's lips curved into a faint, approving smile as she caught on. "So, we'll be in the tournament while our trap is set in motion. Not a bad approach." She looked at Kuroka, her expression shifting slightly. "And you, Kuroka? Will you be joining us on the yacht?"

Kuroka shook her head with a faint smirk. "I'll pass. There are still too many devils around from last night's event. I'd prefer to steer clear of that mess."

Shirou chuckled under his breath, fully expecting her response. "I figured you'd say that. That's why I want you stationed at the leyline site as our main line of defense. If everything goes as planned, you'll be in position when Jester arrives. I'll need you to retrieve Valerie's stolen Graal and eliminate Goetia's remains after we've neutralized Jester. I'll even lend you the Vajra again as safety measure."

Kuroka's eyes gleamed with understanding, and she nodded confidently. "Understood. You can leave that part to me. Jester won't get the chance to use Valerie's Graal or to awaken his pet demon."

With each detail, the plan took clearer shape, though a faint doubt remained, one that Kuroka voiced. She raised an eyebrow, her tone slightly skeptical. "I get the plan, but there's one part that doesn't quite add up. You're saying you'll kill Jester from the yacht. But how? That's a three-kilometer shot." Her gaze shifted toward him with a hint of doubt. "I mean, unless you're planning to fire a cross-continent missile, I'm pretty sure an arrow won't travel that distance."

Shirou met her gaze, his calm confidence unwavering. "I have my methods."

Kuroka's eyes narrowed playfully. "And that means…?"

"It means you'll just have to trust me on this," Shirou replied, giving her a faint smile.

Millarca chuckled at Kuroka's skepticism, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her seat. "I'd suggest not underestimating his archery skills, Kuroka. Believe it or not, his aim is sharper than his blade work—and that's saying something."

"And how would you know that?" Kuroka asked Millarca curiously.

"I've seen him how he uses the bow several times in the past when took mercenary jobs from me. That's how I know his archery skill is superior than his swordsmanship." Millarca said casually with a shrug.

Kuroka looked back at Shirou, still visibly unconvinced but willing to concede. "Fine, fine. If Millarca's that confident, I'll assume you can pull it off."

With the last detail ironed out, Shirou stood, stretching slightly as he prepared to head back to his room for the final preparations. The day would be long, and he needed everything set perfectly. "All right, then. I'll take care of the last details from my side. Tonight, we'll meet Jester on our terms."

Millarca and Kuroka watched him rise, and as he moved toward the door, Kuroka called out after him, her voice almost uncharacteristically serious. "Shirou," she said, drawing his attention. "You make sure you come back in one piece. I'm not letting you off if you go and get yourself killed tonight, you hear?"

Shirou turned, an unexpected softness in his gaze as he gave a faint nod. "I'll be back, Kuroka. And so will Valerie's Graal." With that, he left the room, a quiet determination settling within him as he moved down the hall and back to his own suite as he have a preparation of his own to make.

The first thing he did after returning to his suite, Shirou projected a certain Noble phantasm that he's going to use to kill Jester from the distance. But to ensure that this Noble phantasm can effectively kill that vampire, he needs to make some modifications to it.

So, with that Shirou begins to work on modifying the Noble Phantasm in his hands with Reinforcement and Alteration Magecraft.

Evening eventually settled over Monte Carlo, and acting exactly as they have planned earlier, Shirou and Millarca head towards Van Fem's private Yacht to participate in the second round of Fem's Casa tournament while Kuroka along with Millarca's familiar will head towards the open field with the strongest leyline point to watch over the place in case Jester finally make his appearance.

A quiet thrill filled the air inside the floating palace of Van Fem, its lavish decks adorned with dim lights and regal banners. Shirou adjusted his newly acquired tuxedo as he joined Millarca on their way to the grand hall where the second round of the Fem's Casa tournament would soon begin. The hall buzzed with an expectant murmur, as spectators and participants alike took their seats or gathered near the tables for the evening's games. Millarca, radiant yet focused, walked by Shirou's side, her presence an anchor amid the complex strategies and dangers lurking in every turn of the tournament.

"Remember," she said quietly as they moved deeper into the hall, "this round is not only about winning but surviving. Tonight's games are designed to test more than skill—they're meant to reveal each player's resolve."

Shirou nodded, taking in her words. "I'll keep that in mind. But you'll guide me if I slip up, right?"

Millarca's lips curved into a faint smile. "Of course. I'd hardly leave you to face all this alone."

They found their designated area, a table specifically arranged for high-stakes play, with ornate designs and mysterious runes glowing softly on its surface. Each table here wasn't just a place to gamble; it was a site for testing one's life force and mind. As they settled in, Millarca placed a hand on Shirou's arm.

"Tonight, you'll need to connect your life force to each game. It can drain you, so don't rush," she warned. "These games tap into something deep. Let yourself move slowly; feel each decision before you act."

Shirou took a calming breath, feeling the tension around them but allowing Millarca's guidance to center him. He wasn't here just to win but to secure a place in the tournament—and ultimately, to reach Jester. They both knew the risks, but if he was to advance, this was the way forward.

The first arcane game soon began—a game unfamiliar to Shirou, yet intriguing in its mystique. At its center was a crystalline sphere suspended over the table, surrounded by a ring of symbols, each one pulsing with a unique aura. The object of the game, the dealer explained, was to connect one's life force with the sphere and navigate a labyrinth of illusions, finding and capturing the 'core' symbol hidden somewhere in its depths. This game was about instinct and perception, as each symbol represented a false path or a glimpse of the core, and only those who could sense the true path would succeed.

Shirou focused, following Millarca's advice as he let his life force merge with the crystal. The sensation was both foreign and fascinating, as though he were reaching into an unseen maze, guided by fleeting impressions and faint glimmers of light. The game was less about raw strength and more about intuition, a trait Shirou knew he possessed in battle but was less certain of in the arcane realm.

Millarca's voice was soft, coaxing. "Trust your instincts. Feel each symbol—let it speak to you. Remember, the core hides in shadows, but it leaves traces."

As Shirou reached deeper into the labyrinth, he sensed the subtle deception within each false path, feeling their illusions tug at his mind. He nearly lost himself in one enticing symbol, but Millarca's quiet encouragement kept him on course, guiding him back to clarity. Finally, after navigating several rounds of intricate illusions, Shirou pinpointed the core, feeling a surge of triumph as his life force encapsulated it. The dealer acknowledged his victory, awarding him a generous pile of chips, and he felt the spark of energy that coursed back to him, refreshing him for the next challenge.

Shirou took a moment to recover, Millarca handing him a glass of water as she observed his expression. "Nicely done. But don't get too comfortable; the next one is more challenging. It requires not only your instincts but also a keen sense of strategy."

As they waited for the second game to start, Shirou noticed familiar figures approaching their table. Two of the opponents were recognizable—Diodora Astaroth and Seekvaira Agares, devils of high rank who had an almost regal air about them. They wore their arrogance openly, each confident and cool, surveying their surroundings with the aloofness of those accustomed to victory. The other two participants were magicians of less renown, though they carried themselves with a quiet intensity.

Diodora's eyes caught Shirou's as he took his place across from them, his gaze sharp with interest. "I've heard of you, Shirou Emiya. The so-called 'Phantasmal Killer,' known for your efficiency as a mercenary. Quite an impressive reputation."

Shirou remained composed, offering a respectful nod. "And I know of you, Diodora. It seems we're both here to test our skills."

Seekvaira, watching with a faint smile, inclined her head slightly. "Welcome to the tournament, Shirou. If your reputation holds, we'll be in for an interesting game."

Millarca gave a subtle, approving smile from her position at Shirou's side, catching his eye briefly. He felt her reassurance, her quiet confidence in him, and he allowed himself to relax slightly, even as the challenge ahead loomed large.

The dealer's voice resonated across the table as he introduced the game. "Welcome to *Magique*'s second round—a strategic arcane game resembling the legendary Devil's Peerage games, known in certain circles as the Rating Game. Tonight's challenge requires each of you to pit your forces against your opponents, moving strategically to capture their pieces. The one with the most remaining pieces by the end will be the victor."

Shirou felt the weight of the room's anticipation as he connected his life force to the board, feeling it expand like a chessboard within his mind, each piece imbued with a fragment of his energy. However, unlike chess, the rules of *Magique*'s Rating Game allowed for complex interactions between pieces—each player could imbue their pieces with certain attributes, allowing for offensive, defensive, and countering moves depending on positioning.

Millarca leaned closer, her voice low. "Take your time to observe, Shirou. The pieces act like warriors on a battlefield, but this isn't chess—it's about managing their attributes and maintaining balance across the board. Remember, devils like Diodora and Seekvaira are trained in games of power like this. You'll have to adapt quickly."

In the first round, Shirou moved cautiously, choosing to keep his pieces close. He observed Diodora's aggressive approach, swiftly capturing one of the magician's pieces in an elegant but lethal move. Seekvaira, meanwhile, used a mix of offense and defense, moving with calculated precision that kept her pieces well-protected while threatening others from afar.

Shirou's attempt at countering Seekvaira's strategy ended with a swift defeat; her pieces outmaneuvered his by sheer force of experience. Diodora, noticing Shirou's tentative moves, smirked, using an aggressive approach to capture another of Shirou's pieces, effectively winning the first round.

As the second round commenced, Shirou found himself on the defensive once again. The two magicians attempted to gain ground, but their lack of experience allowed the devils to dominate the board. Diodora's tactics were ruthless, quickly exploiting every weakness, and Seekvaira's strategy was precise and surgical, showing a deep familiarity with the game's intricacies. Shirou's forces found themselves overwhelmed, leaving him with only a few remaining pieces by the end of the round.

As the second round concluded, Millarca leaned in, her expression serious but encouraging. "You're playing it too much like a conventional game," she murmured. "Try to see it as an extension of yourself. Each piece is part of your life force—don't just move them; let them embody your strategy. It's a battle of wills as much as tactics."

Shirou absorbed her advice, reorienting himself as he prepared for the third round. He could see now that the game wasn't just about positioning but about infusing each move with intent, focusing his life force to empower his pieces. With this realization, he made his moves more assertive, challenging Diodora's advances and countering Seekvaira's strategies with swift, decisive actions.

By the third round, he found his rhythm, moving as though in a trance. Each piece responded to his will, pushing forward with a newfound intensity. He managed to capture one of Seekvaira's key pieces, a victory that shifted the balance of power on the board. Diodora, surprised by Shirou's sudden boldness, tried to retaliate, but Shirou anticipated his moves, countering with a defensive play that kept Diodora's forces at bay.

Millarca watched with a satisfied gleam in her eye, nodding approvingly as Shirou took control of the round. The shift in his approach continued into the fourth round, as Shirou managed to outmaneuver both Diodora and Seekvaira, turning their strategies against them. His confidence grew with each move, his focus unbreakable as he systematically dismantled his opponents' defenses.

Seekvaira, visibly impressed, glanced at Shirou across the table, her voice carrying a note of respect. "You've adapted quickly. Not many can keep up in this game without prior experience."

Diodora, meanwhile, struggled to conceal his frustration, his earlier confidence waning. "It seems the Phantasmal Killer's talents extend beyond the battlefield," he muttered, grudgingly acknowledging Shirou's growing dominance.

Shirou gave a polite nod, maintaining his composure despite the rising tension. "I'm simply learning from those with experience," he replied, keeping his tone respectful yet firm, "but I appreciate the opportunity to test my limits." He glanced toward Millarca, whose subtle nod conveyed encouragement, reinforcing the steady calm that had guided him through the game so far.

The fifth and final round began, and the atmosphere around the table grew electric. Each player now knew that their strategy could make or break their standing in the tournament. Millarca leaned in once more, her voice low and direct.

"Stay focused, Shirou. Remember, you've mastered the pattern. Trust yourself and let each move flow."

He took a deep breath, anchoring himself to her words as he reconnected his life force to the board, feeling his remaining pieces pulse with his energy. The intensity of the game had drawn attention from others around the hall, and a small crowd had gathered, their eyes fixed on Shirou's table, intrigued by the dynamic interplay between the participants.

Diodora opened the round aggressively, pushing forward with a relentless assault aimed directly at Shirou. His strategy had shifted, becoming more reckless, as if he sought to dismantle Shirou's forces with sheer power alone. But Shirou could sense the weakness in Diodora's approach—a desperation that left certain areas vulnerable. He allowed Diodora's forces to advance, baiting him into overextending his pieces.

At the same time, Seekvaira played conservatively, watching the interaction between Shirou and Diodora, likely calculating her moves based on their exchange. With each turn, Shirou skillfully defended his pieces, using clever positioning to keep Diodora's forces entangled. His patience paid off as he captured one of Diodora's key pieces in a sudden counterstrike that left his opponent visibly unsettled.

"Impressive," Seekvaira remarked, her tone admiring as she observed Shirou's counter. "It's rare to see someone handle Diodora with such finesse."

Shirou met her gaze, a hint of respect in his expression. "You have to adapt quickly when your opponents are this skilled." He shifted his focus back to the board, where Seekvaira had now begun to press her own advantage, sensing an opportunity amid Diodora's disruption.

Millarca, still by his side, offered quiet advice. "Remember, she's strategic—less direct. Draw her out by exploiting Diodora's gaps. Let her make the first move."

Following her suggestion, Shirou turned his attention to Seekvaira's pieces, which had remained strategically positioned throughout. He noted the balance she maintained, wary of falling into any traps. He waited for her to advance, patiently maneuvering his forces to force her into a difficult choice between pressing her attack or protecting her own assets. After a few rounds of delicate maneuvers, he saw the opening he'd been waiting for—a slight overreach by Seekvaira, whose attempt to dominate the board had left one of her critical pieces unguarded.

In a swift, calculated move, Shirou seized her exposed piece, shifting the momentum of the game decisively in his favor. The spectators murmured in surprise, many of them visibly impressed by his tactical prowess and control.

Seekvaira gave a small nod, acknowledging the move with a wry smile. "It seems I underestimated you, Shirou. You've adapted well."

Shirou inclined his head, accepting her recognition. "Thank you. It's been an honor facing you."

The game continued with the intensity of a true battle, every piece and move charged with the participants' life force. As the final round drew to a close, Shirou found himself steadily wearing down both Diodora's and Seekvaira's forces, his careful strategy paying off in a spectacular reversal that left him as the clear victor.

When the last move was made, the dealer's voice rang out to announce Shirou as the winner of the second round. A quiet pride glinted in Millarca's eyes as she watched him accept his victory. The hall erupted in applause, the gathered spectators appreciative of the skill on display, and a murmur of conversation arose as they dispersed, intrigued by the unexpected outcome of Shirou's match.

Diodora, visibly irate but restrained, nodded curtly at Shirou, his expression a mix of frustration and grudging respect. Seekvaira, however, approached with a calm and graceful demeanor.

"Well played, Shirou," she said, her voice carrying a tone of genuine admiration. "Few could have taken on both of us and come out victorious. Your reputation is well-deserved."

Shirou offered a modest smile. "Thank you. It was a privilege to compete with you both. I learned a lot from this game."

With the formalities concluded, Shirou and Millarca turned away from the table, sharing a look of quiet satisfaction. The energy from the match still lingered, and though he felt the drain on his life force, the thrill of victory tempered any fatigue.

As they made their way toward the main hall's exit, a distinct figure entered their path. Tall and imposing, with an aura of refined elegance, Van Fem himself approached, his sharp gaze catching Shirou's attention. The tournament's host exuded an air of both authority and hospitality, his expression one of polite interest as he surveyed the pair.

"Ah, Shirou Emiya," he greeted, his voice deep and measured. "I had been hoping for an introduction. Your performance this evening was most remarkable."

Shirou met Van Fem's gaze with respect, nodding slightly. "Thank you, Lord Van Fem. Your tournament has been a fascinating experience."

Van Fem's eyes flicked toward Millarca, his gaze softened. "And Lady Millarca, a pleasure, as always."

Millarca returned the nod, her voice smooth and diplomatic. "The pleasure is mine, Lord Van Fem."

Van Fem gestured toward a nearby corridor that led away from the main hall. "If you both would indulge me, I'd like to discuss a matter privately in my office. I believe you'll find it… illuminating."

Exchanging a glance with Millarca, Shirou sensed that this invitation was not one to refuse. With a nod, they followed Van Fem down the corridor, leaving behind the vibrant energy of the tournament floor as they entered a quieter, more secluded part of the ship.

Van Fem's office, decorated in opulent yet tasteful shades of gold and deep crimson, was a reflection of the man himself—polished, controlled, and undeniably powerful. As they took their seats across from him, Van Fem regarded them with a contemplative expression.

"Mr. Emiya," he began, folding his hands before him, "I am aware of your recent rise in notoriety. The mercenary known as the 'Phantasmal Killer' has gained attention, even in circles you may not have intended."

Shirou held his gaze steadily. "I'm aware that my line of work draws a certain level of attention. But I assure you, my intentions here are aligned with the purpose of this tournament."

Van Fem gave a small, approving nod. "I appreciate your honesty. It's a rare quality in our world. And while I have no reason to question your purpose, I find it prudent to be well-informed about those who participate in my tournament, especially as the stakes increase."

His gaze turned slightly sharper, a glint of curiosity mingling with shrewd calculation. "Your talents are exceptional, Shirou. But I suspect there's more to your presence here than simple ambition. Perhaps… a specific goal?"

Shirou paused, considering his words carefully before he spoke. "I came here to compete, to test my abilities and to gain experience. But I won't deny there are… matters beyond the tournament that interest me."

Van Fem seemed to ponder this, a faint smile touching his lips. "A fair answer, and one I can respect. This tournament, after all, has drawn individuals from many walks of life, each with their own motives. Yours, I sense, may involve a certain guest among our midst."

Shirou's gaze didn't falter, though he understood the subtle implication. Van Fem was no ordinary host, and his knowledge of the players' intentions ran deep.

"Rest assured," Van Fem continued, his voice almost amused, "your intentions do not disrupt my tournament. In fact, I find them intriguing. But I must admit that there's something that I'd like to know... Regarding the chaos that have unfolded in my city especially since a couple of days ago."

"I've been generous in letting the tournament run its course undisturbed, but what I can't ignore is the chaos that seems to accompany certain figures." His gaze sharpened. "Such as yourselves."

Shirou's eyes narrowed subtly, though he maintained his calm. Millarca, sitting beside him, remained elegantly composed, her demeanor that of a lady accustomed to tense confrontations. Shirou had expected this; they hadn't exactly operated in secrecy, and Van Fem's sources were likely as vast as they were efficient.

"Allow me to be blunt," Van Fem continued, folding his hands over the desk. "In the past days, two of Morte's primary supply depots have been destroyed. My agents have done their due diligence, and earlier this morning, one reported an interesting sight." His gaze moved from Shirou to Millarca. "A certain mercenary and his beautiful companion, along with a Nekoshou dressed in a rather noticeable oversized black kimono, were seen at the scene of one of these… disturbances. Needless to say, I have my suspicions about who might be responsible."

Shirou met Van Fem's sharp gaze without flinching. "I suppose it would be pointless to deny it. We are responsible."

Van Fem raised a brow, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes at Shirou's straightforwardness. "And why, may I ask, did you decide to interfere in such a manner?"

With a nod from Millarca, Shirou began. "It began with an attempt to rescue someone—Valerie Tepes. She was being held by Morte, and we needed to get her out safely. But we discovered a larger scheme in play, one that posed a threat not just to us but to many others. Morte, in alliance with Elmenhilde Karstein and a former ally of yours, Jester Karture, is planning something dire."

Van Fem's expression darkened at the mention of Jester, though he remained silent, letting Shirou continue.

"They intend to resurrect two demon gods using the Sephiroth Graal," Shirou continued, his voice low. "A plan that would bring unimaginable destruction. My involvement here at the tournament wasn't by chance, Lord Van Fem—I came here with one specific goal in mind. I'm here to find Jester Karture and kill him."

For a long moment, Van Fem remained still, the slight tension in his frame the only sign that he was processing Shirou's revelations. Then he leaned back, his fingers steepled before him, a trace of an ironic smile on his lips.

"I must say, Mr. Emiya, you have been more helpful than I expected. This information explains a great deal—particularly some of the peculiar movements within Morte's network these last few weeks. I suspected that he might attempt something foolhardy, perhaps even make another attempt on my life. But to think he would ally with Elmenhilde and my former confidant, Jester…"

Van Fem's gaze grew calculating as he studied Shirou. "And tell me, what is it that drives you to such lengths to hunt down Jester? I'm quite curious."

Shirou's expression remained impassive, but there was a slight edge in his tone. "It's business, Lord Van Fem. Someone's paying me a considerable sum to remove him."

Van Fem's smile widened, though his gaze was no less intense. "A mercenary's business, then. And who is this mysterious client?"

Shirou's eyes narrowed, offering the faintest shake of his head. "He never gave me a name."

Van Fem chuckled softly, though the sound held little warmth. "Very well, I suppose you wouldn't be inclined to reveal such things, even if you did know. But I do appreciate your forthrightness—it's refreshing. I believe a small token of gratitude is in order."

Shirou watched as Van Fem's expression shifted, a look of something between amusement and intrigue settling over his features. "Jester Karture," he began, leaning forward slightly, "is no ordinary vampire. Like myself, he's ascended to the level of a Dead Apostle, meaning that typical weapons, even those of legendary origin, may not suffice against him."

Shirou's gaze sharpened, and Van Fem continued, his tone calm and methodical. "To kill Jester, you will need a weapon with Conceptual Attributes, something that can strike at his very existence. And know this—Jester has six hearts, each one capable of sustaining his life force independently. Destroy one, and he may falter, but he will not die. Only by destroying all six hearts will you truly eliminate him."

Shirou inclined his head, his tone respectful as he replied, "Thank you, Lord Van Fem. Your knowledge is invaluable."

Van Fem's smile returned, softer this time. "Consider it a fair exchange. Information for information. And I believe, Shirou Emiya, that you may just have the determination required to put such knowledge to use." He glanced between Shirou and Millarca. "I expect you'll be attending to this matter soon?"

Shirou gave a slight nod. "As soon as possible. Tonight, if all goes according to plan."

With a final nod of acknowledgment, Van Fem leaned back in his chair, a satisfied expression on his face. "Then I won't detain you further. Good luck, Mr. Emiya. I hope to see you in the next round of the tournament."

Shirou and Millarca rose, giving respectful bows as they excused themselves from Van Fem's office. They moved with purpose through the quiet corridors, heading up towards the ship's deck, where they could regroup and prepare for the coming confrontation. As they reached the open air of the upper deck, a small, dark shape swooped down from the night sky—a bat, Millarca's familiar, returning with urgent news.

Millarca held out her arm, and the bat landed, shifting into her palm as it relayed its message in a series of soft squeaks. Her expression darkened, and she turned to Shirou, her eyes sharp with determination.

"Jester has arrived at the designated location. He's engaging Kuroka, trying to push past her to resurrect Goetia."

Shirou nodded, his gaze intense as he reached into the depths of his magic. "Then we'll proceed with the plan."

Millarca sent a silent message through her familiar, instructing Kuroka to retreat as soon as possible. She and Shirou exchanged a quick, resolute glance before Shirou extended his hand, invoking his magecraft. The air shimmered as he projected his ultimate weapon for this task—Caladbolg III. Unlike its previous iterations, Caladbolg III had been altered extensively for this very moment. Its shape was sleeker, more aerodynamic, with sharpened edges and a faint, dark glow emanating from its surface. He had also enhanced it with Conceptual Attributes, imbuing it with an anti-vampiric potency drawn from the mystical essence of the Black Keys.

Taking a deep breath, Shirou felt the weapon settle in his hand, a sense of powerful finality coursing through him. He summoned Archer's black bow, projecting it with ease as he held it steady, placing Caladbolg III against the bowstring. Using Reinforcement magecraft, he altered its form, shaping it into a sleek, deadly arrow.

He drew back the bowstring, feeling the gathered mana surge through him as he filled Caladbolg III to its breaking point. The weapon pulsed with power, now a Broken Phantasm primed to detonate with lethal force. His senses heightened, and with a flicker of reinforced eyesight, he locked onto the distant battlefield.

Across the open field, Kuroka had received Millarca's message. In a deft movement, she teleported from the clearing, disappearing into the shadows. Her departure left Jester exposed and unaware of the attack now hurtling toward him. Shirou's grip on the bow tightened as he released the string, watching as Caladbolg III soared with blinding speed toward its target.

Jester, detecting the incoming threat at the last moment, turned with a snarl, raising his hand to deflect it. But that decision sealed his fate. The moment his hand touched Caladbolg III, the weapon's immense, condensed mana ruptured with a deafening roar.

In an instant, Caladbolg III erupted, engulfing the field in a cataclysmic explosion that radiated with an intense, blinding light. The impact shook the ground, vaporizing the nearby trees and turning the soil into scorched glass as shockwaves rippled outward. The magnitude of the blast was immense, carrying the power of a small nuclear detonation, just as Shirou had intended.

The very air seemed to burn as waves of destructive force tore through the field, obliterating all in their path, including Goetia's corpse, reducing it to ash along with anything else in its vicinity. For Jester, caught in the center of the explosion, there was no escape. His form was engulfed entirely, vanishing within the blaze as the violent conflagration seared through him with Conceptual Attributes capable of cutting to the very core of his being.

Shirou watched from his vantage, a faint, grim smile crossing his face as he observed the aftermath. The clearing, now an expanse of charred earth and debris, was silent save for the echo of the explosion dissipating into the night. Everything had gone precisely as he had planned. He lowered his bow, feeling the lingering rush of mana fading as he surveyed his work with steely satisfaction.

For now, Jester and the threat of Goetia's resurrection were obliterated, leaving nothing but the memory of the explosion in the air and the confidence that his mission had succeeded.

"Mission accomplished," Shirou murmured, his gaze lingering on the remnants of the battlefield as the dust settled down.

To be Continued.

Finally another chapter is finished. And I must say that this chapter was the hardest for me to write. I repeatedly lost the idea on how to put the plot into proper words, especially the part where Shirou participate in the second round of the Fem's Casa tournament and also the conversation with Van Fem. Van Fem was a difficult character to write properly. I tried to make him as close as his canon self, but it's not exactly easy as there's not a single source that I can use as a reference to describe Van Fem, except for the light novel of The Adventure of Lord El-Melloi II volume 6 - 8.

Anyways, this arc is nearing its ending part. Right now, I'm trying to figure out what kind of Casino game that I should bring in the final round of Fem's Casa tournament. I'm a little late for me. Can you give me an idea?

Anyways, that's it for tonight. I'll so tomorrow soon in the next chapter. Please don't forget to leave me some reviews.