At the Emiya Residence, Shiki and Saber struck a deal.
He promised to save Irisviel's life, and in exchange, Saber temporarily ceded to him the right to use the Conceptual Weapon Avalon.
Meanwhile, in a concealed workshop connected to the Emiya Residence somewhere in Shinto, the lights were dim, and a faint smell of machine oil hung in the air.
Kiritsugu was focused on loading bullets. With practiced hands, he precisely pressed each round into a magazine, then inserted the loaded magazines into the weapons one by one and neatly placed them in a box prepared beside him.
Without looking up, he spoke coldly. "I know you're there, Kirei Kotomine. At this point, don't do anything unnecessary."
Not far behind him, Kirei Kotomine was wrapped in layers of bandages, looking like a mummy. Hearing Kiritsugu's words, he set down the screwdriver in his hand and leaned against the cold wall, his voice low. "Kiritsugu Emiya, did you save me?"
He tried hard to recall what had happened. His last memory was of using up his Command Spells, only for the Holy Grail to give no response. Then, his contract with Archer ended. After Archer was judged to have withdrawn, he sank into darkness and lost consciousness.
Kirei had thought Berserker's Master would kill him, considering he had fallen into enemy hands.
Yet when he woke, he was in this unfamiliar room and had even met Kiritsugu Emiya, the man he had long wished to see. Acting on instinct, he grabbed the screwdriver beside him, only to be noticed easily by the other man.
He had not intended to attack Kiritsugu. It was simply that, in this perilous world, picking up a weapon to protect himself had become an instinctive reaction.
Only after completing all his firearm checks did Kiritsugu turn to look at Kirei Kotomine.
The two stared at each other. For a time, the workshop was so quiet that only their breathing could be heard. A minute passed, and the oppressive atmosphere was suffocating.
In the end, Kirei was the first to yield. His injuries were too severe, and the weakness in his body prevented him from continuing this mental standoff.
Kirei's eyes were filled with confusion, his voice slightly hoarse. "Kiritsugu Emiya, I want to know why you saved me. We've always been enemies, haven't we?"
Kiritsugu nodded without hesitation. "That's right. Even before the Holy Grail War began, I had already considered you the greatest enemy in the way of my ideals."
"Heh, just as I thought. I, Kirei Kotomine, am seen by you as your greatest enemy, and you, Kiritsugu Emiya, have always been the target I pursued."
"...I know."
Kiritsugu replied calmly. He knew that although Kirei Kotomine's purpose was unclear, one thing was certain: everything Kirei did was directed at him.
"There's no point talking about that now. I didn't save you to discuss this. You remember Berserker's Master, don't you?"
Kiritsugu did not want to waste any more time. Reality no longer allowed him and Kirei to slowly probe each other. He only wanted information about that young Magus from Kirei, and if he could gain Kirei's assistance, that would naturally be even better.
So he went straight to the point, fixing his gaze on Kirei. "I want information on him. All of it."
At that, Kirei Kotomine laughed a few times, but the movement pulled at his wounds, making the corner of his mouth twitch sharply. With a hint of mockery in his gaze, he looked at Kiritsugu. "Why should I help you, Kiritsugu Emiya? Give me a suitable reason. Otherwise, I'll only cheer for that boy from the sidelines, whether here or in hell."
"Heh. With the kind of person you are, even hell probably wouldn't take you in, Kirei Kotomine." Kiritsugu sneered.
"And would hell take you in, Kiritsugu Emiya?" Kirei shot back.
For a moment, silence fell between them.
The lights in the workshop seemed to dim further, as though even their murky glow was pondering whether hell would accept people like them, whose hands were stained with blood.
They both knew that, after everything they had done, perhaps they were not even qualified to enter hell. More likely, after death they would become wandering ghosts with nowhere to go.
"Then how about you trade your information in return for me saving your life?"
"Fine. I can even help you with more than that."
Kirei answered with unusual decisiveness, so quickly that Kiritsugu could not help giving him several extra looks of surprise.
This man's thoughts were always impossible to fathom. Just moments ago, he had firmly refused, saying he wanted to watch from the sidelines. How had he agreed in the blink of an eye?
Saving someone's life was indeed a great favor, but for people like them, who had struggled through darkness and long since taken life and death lightly, being saved should not have changed someone's attitude so easily.
In truth, Kirei Kotomine's reason was simple. He wanted to watch Kiritsugu Emiya struggle. Unfortunately, reality would not allow it, so be it.
As for that mysterious, powerful boy, Kirei Kotomine wanted another direct confrontation with him. This time, he absolutely would not lose so miserably again.
Being prepared and being unprepared were entirely different matters.
Even he did not know why he was so determined to face that boy again. Perhaps he was curious how far the boy would ultimately go, or perhaps he wanted to see what wish the boy would make when he obtained the Holy Grail.
Kirei Kotomine had come because of the Holy Grail, and he wished to end everything because of the Holy Grail as well. That was what he truly thought.
Thus, in this secret workshop, two former mortal enemies formed a secret alliance. They had only one target—the boy Shiki, who had suddenly been drawn into the Holy Grail War.
However, they were not the only ones who wanted to deal with Shiki.
Elsewhere, the atmosphere in Waver's room was equally grave.
At this moment, the burly and imposing Rider was not studying a world map as usual, playing his beloved strategy games, or watching the military programs he enjoyed. He stood quietly by the window. The curtains were half-drawn, and beyond them, the outline of Fuyuki Bridge flickered in and out of view through the hazy air.
His expression was stern, and a faint glimmer flickered in his eyes, as though he were deep in thought.
Then the sound of the door opening came from behind him. His Master, Waver, a nineteen-year-old novice Magus, entered carrying a huge pile of things, complaining all the while. "Rider, I called you several times. Why didn't you answer? I thought you weren't home."
Rider turned around, and his trademark hearty smile returned. Laughing loudly, he stepped forward to help Waver put down what he was carrying, then gave Waver's shoulder a heavy pat, his voice booming. "With that little weight, Master, you need to train more! Only a strong body makes a real man!"
As he spoke, he deliberately flexed his muscles. His bulging muscles stretched his tank top taut, brimming with strength and giving off an imposing presence.
But Waver was already used to it. He sighed helplessly. "Rider!!"
"Ha ha ha, all right, all right, kid. You'll definitely grow strong someday. Eat more meat, ha ha!"
Rider continued laughing, trying to ease the oppressive atmosphere in the room with his lighthearted tone.
"Someday..."
Hearing that word, Waver froze for a moment, his expression turning serious. He looked up at the towering Rider. "Rider, do I even have a someday? I've already decided to go to the battlefield with you. I'm afraid there won't be any someday."
Yes, Waver had already made up his mind to fight alongside Rider, regardless of the outcome.
Whether it was a moment of impulsiveness or courage rising from the depths of his heart, he had not regretted it until now. He had even exchanged the money for his last plane ticket for all sorts of tools that could be useful in battle.
That was Waver's resolve.
The towering Rider looked at Waver's face, his heart filled with emotion.
That timid, weak child from before had finally grown. He had gained courage and responsibility, and more importantly, the bearing a Master ought to possess.
Rider laughed loudly and gave Waver's shoulder another firm pat. This time, he did not call him "kid."
"Well done, Waver."
That change of address represented his complete recognition of Waver, recognition of the Master who had summoned him into this world.
How could Rider bear to let a Waver like this die in this cruel Holy Grail War?
"Don't worry, Waver. We'll definitely claim the final victory!"
Rider spoke with complete confidence, but a shadow lingered in his heart and refused to disperse. He vaguely suspected that Berserker's next target would likely be himself.
"Then come! Let this King see your strength!"
Rider stared resolutely out the window, his eyes revealing fearless fighting spirit. Before the challenge that was about to arrive, he, Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, had never known fear.
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