All of Arondight's energy struck Avalon's dimensional barrier.
There was no sound.
With that much magical energy, even grazing the ground should have shattered swathes of nearby windows.
But nothing happened here.
The indigo light pressed against the golden barrier and simply vanished.
There was no explosion, no flare, not even a stir of dust on the ground.
Avalon kept the attack outside.
More precisely, it separated Artoria and Irisviel from this place.
Enveloped in golden light, the two were no longer on this side of reality.
The phase of Avalon lay between their location and Fuyuki City.
However powerful Lancelot's sword was, it could not touch someone who was not here.
Arondight's power found no target.
Then the magical energy compressed into the blade began flowing backward.
Indigo light surged back along Arondight and rushed straight into Lancelot's Spirit Origin.
That strike was supposed to explode on impact. Now, with no target to be found, the nearest vessel left was Lancelot himself.
His Spirit Origin could not withstand it.
Indigo light shone all over Lancelot's body.
Cracks split his black armor, golden motes spilling out through them.
Pieces of armor began falling off, breaking into luminous dust before they reached the ground.
Lancelot's body began to fade as well.
His feet still stood on the ground, but the collapsed wall and steel reinforcing bars behind him were already visible through his body.
Arondight slipped from his hand, its blade shattering with it. The black edge turned into flakes of indigo light that drifted into the night sky.
His Spirit Origin had collapsed.
It could no longer be repaired.
Lancelot knew very well that he was about to disappear.
Avalon withdrew once the attack ended.
The golden barrier folded inward layer by layer, turning into streams of light that sank back into Irisviel's body.
Artoria and Irisviel returned to their original positions.
Artoria looked ahead.
Ten meters away, Lancelot was dissolving.
Golden motes spilled from the gaps in his armor and floated into the air. Most of the black armor had fallen away, revealing his fading body beneath.
Broad shoulders, a straight back-still the figure of a knight.
His helmet shattered too.
The black faceplate cracked open from the left, revealing half his face first.
Deep purple hair, pale skin, a sharply defined jaw.
Then the right side cracked as well, revealing the bridge of his nose, his lips, and his dark purple eyes.
They were not the red of Mad Enhancement.
Those eyes were lucid and quiet.
The Command Spells' restraints were gone.
All three Command Spells had been used up. Nothing remained that could force Lancelot to do anything.
In these final few seconds, he had finally become himself again.
Lancelot looked at Artoria.
His lips moved slightly, as though he wanted to smile.
It was a faint movement, but there was no longer any will to fight in those purple eyes.
Nor was there any resentment.
Only the calm of nearing the end remained.
Artoria stood where she was, holding Excalibur, and did not approach.
"So it really was you, Sir Lancelot."
Her voice remained steady.
The King of Knights would not lose her composure on the battlefield.
Only the pauses between her words were a little longer than usual.
"Once the finest of the Knights of the Round Table... how did you come to this?"
Lancelot opened his mouth. His voice emerged from his almost-dissolved body, sounding hollow.
"What I have become..."
His voice was hoarse, but his words were clear.
"My king, I have only brought this upon myself."
Lancelot looked at Artoria, as though he wanted to remember her figure until the very end.
"To die by my king's hand..."
The right half of his armor shattered, golden dust pouring from it.
"My wish has already been fulfilled."
His feet began turning into light.
"Without a doubt, this is also the ending most fitting for me."
As his final word fell, a faint smile appeared on Lancelot's face.
Then his entire body dissolved into golden dust.
The night wind lifted the dust from the ground. It drifted upward, scattering ever farther, until it finally vanished into Fuyuki City's November night.
Berserker, Lancelot.
Eliminated.
Artoria stood there, watching the last speck of golden light disappear.
Excalibur hung at her side.
Her expression barely changed. She still bore the same look of a king.
Only her grip on her sword tightened a little.
Sir Lancelot.
You said you brought this upon yourself.
But I...
Artoria closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she suppressed those thoughts.
With Lancelot gone, the Berserker faction was finished as well.
The Matou Family's Servant had been eliminated. Under the rules of the Holy Grail War, a Master who lost his Servant also lost his right to participate.
But losing that right did not mean he could be left alone.
Kiritsugu Emiya's order came through their contract.
There were no words, only a cold intent.
The contractual connection between Artoria and Kiritsugu Emiya had always been like this.
When that man gave orders, it was like sending out a machine instruction.
Brief, precise, with nothing else.
The meaning was clear.
Eliminate the threat at its root.
Artoria pressed her lips together.
She did not like this order.
Killing someone who could no longer fight and was already dying was not something a knight should do.
But Kiritsugu Emiya's thinking was there as well.
In the Holy Grail War, a living enemy Master meant trouble.
Even if Kariya Matou was dying, the Crest Worms in his body remained.
As long as he still breathed, the Matou Family might still make use of him.
Artoria turned and walked toward the ruins of the Matou Residence.
Deep within the ruins.
Kariya Matou leaned beneath a slanted concrete slab, still holding Sakura Matou in his arms.
The three Command Spells on the back of his right hand were gone, leaving only three pale red marks like old wounds.
The other end of the contract was empty.
Lancelot was dead.
Kariya Matou closed his eyes.
His body was so exhausted that even breathing took effort.
With no Servant left as an outlet, the Crest Worms began burrowing wildly through his body, squeezing the last traces of life from their host.
He was dying.
He knew that better than anyone.
But Sakura was still alive.
As long as Sakura was still alive, he would...
Footsteps approached.
They came from outside the ruins. The soft clink of armor drew closer, step by step.
Kariya Matou opened his eyes.
Through a gap beneath the concrete slab, he saw a golden figure approach.
Silver-and-blue armor shone in the distant firelight, and she held that golden holy sword in her hand.
King Arthur.
Kariya Matou was not afraid.
He no longer had the strength to be afraid.
He only held Sakura tighter and shifted his body forward a little, shielding her as best he could.
Artoria found them.
Beneath the slanted concrete slab were a white-haired man and a purple-haired little girl.
The man was already beyond saving. His skin was gray, his clothes covered in blood and dust, and something still moved beneath his skin.
He shielded the child with his body and looked up at Artoria.
There was no plea for mercy in those eyes.
This was a man who had already done everything he could.
Artoria raised Excalibur.
One stroke fell.
The blade severed Kariya Matou's heart.
Death came swiftly. Before he could even feel pain, his body went limp.
The arms holding Sakura loosened, and the purple-haired little girl slipped from his embrace, landing seated on the ground littered with broken bricks.