A Warrior's Death

Late at night, the abandoned old house was completely silent, with only a faint light still glowing inside the main building.

Due to years of neglect, everything here, including the electrical system, had completely fallen into disrepair. Only the water and gas pipes were barely usable, and the place was being supported by a small diesel generator.

Of course, that generator had also been a scrapped item Shirou had salvaged and repaired with magecraft.

It could be said that, for the Holy Grail War, he had already spent half the allowance he had saved over the years.

But compared to other Masters, the boy did not particularly crave the Holy Grail. Driven only by a certain curiosity, he wanted to see what this so-called "omnipotent wish-granting machine" truly looked like.

"Mommy..."

Illya curled up in her sleep, occasionally calling for her mother. She looked like a small animal abandoned by its owner—adorable and pitiful at the same time.

After eating a little, she had fallen into a deep sleep again.

As more and more Servant souls entered the Lesser Grail, her already deeply flawed body had finally begun to show problems. She inevitably grew weaker and more prone to illness.

Holding a towel, Shirou gently wiped the sweat beading on the legal loli's forehead. Then he turned and walked out to the steps, plopping down with a sigh. "Magi really are a complicated and bizarre bunch. There are gentle, kind people like Teacher, but there are also people like Illya, a mix of angel and devil. Tohsaka-classmate, can you tell me what the real world of magecraft is like?"

"The real world of magecraft?

Sorry, I don't really know either.

In truth, ever since Father died participating in the previous Holy Grail War, my understanding of the magecraft world has