CHAPTER 283: CHAPTER 280: MIYU’S RESOLVE, ARTORIA’S ARRIVAL

[Greece, Athens]

"The world outside Fuyuki City... so this is what it’s like," Emiya Miyu whispered softly, her voice carried away by the breeze, scattering among the ancient ruins.

The girl stood atop the broken walls of the Parthenon Temple. At her feet were marble steps weathered by a thousand years, with a few stubborn blades of grass growing out of the cracks.

Her white dress was gently brushed by the wind. In the afterglow of sunset her figure looked especially fragile, her gaze passing beyond the ruined stone pillars toward the land that had once thrived in splendor.

Years ago, that city had been destroyed in a sudden tsunami. Now, all that remained was endless ruin, collapsed houses, shattered bridges, streets eroded by the sea, and broken furniture scattered everywhere.

This was the end of a world brought about by the exhaustion of the "Greater Magical Energy."

The Greater Magical Energy (Mana) was the life force filling the outside world, the foundation of all magical operation, and also the very life force of the planet itself.

To magi, the Greater Magical Energy was the essence of the root of magic. Every system of magecraft relied on its flow and existence.

When the Greater Magical Energy dried up, the decline of the world became an irreversible fate.

All things were slowly heading toward silence. Once-glorious magic and technology were now but lingering shadows, barely clinging on, shrouded by the darkness about to swallow everything.

The earth was parched, the sky dim, as if even the wind had lost the meaning of its movement. This was not a sudden collapse of doomsday, but a "final end" creeping closer, as time’s erosion led the world slowly, irreversibly toward ultimate destruction.

Miyu had grown up in Fuyuki City, spending her short childhood there.

Though Fuyuki decayed step by step along with the rest of the world, population shrinking, buildings falling into disrepair, once-shiny streets now marked with cracks, weeds swallowing abandoned houses, rust corroding landmarks that once symbolized prosperity, still, Fuyuki maintained a certain "order."

Because of the Einzberns, the magical family that had existed since a thousand years ago and endured until today.

To Miyu, the Einzberns were unforgivable enemies. They had stolen everything from her, becoming the deepest source of her pain. Yet it was also this terrifying family that cleared and enforced order over Fuyuki, and even the whole Far East.

Of course, this order brought by the Einzberns was no noble salvation. They acted under the name of saving the world, but their hands were surely no less drenched in blood than the true apocalypse itself.

The Einzberns were both the saviors of doomsday and doomsday itself.

And the world outside Fuyuki City, Miyu only saw for the first time after she was transferred to Britain.

If Fuyuki as a whole could be described as "desolate," then the outside world could only be described as "madness."

The remaining human population worldwide was extremely small, yet compared to remote Fuyuki, former central cities like London and Paris still gathered more survivors.

In these places, Miyu saw the countless states of humanity under doomsday.

Some killed without hesitation for food; some numbly accepted the decline of the world; some willingly threw themselves into insane cults, taking "destroying the world" as their final ritual. And some still struggled bitterly within the crumbling world, trying to seek even a sliver of hope.

She had seen a mother clutching her dead child’s body tightly, as if still able to give warmth that way. She had seen betrayal and murder among survivors, just for a bottle of clean water. She had also seen an old man sitting alone on the ruins, quietly waiting for death to come.

Miyu often thought of her brother, Emiya Shirou.

When he was even younger than she was now, Shirou had already traveled the world with Emiya Kiritsugu, searching for a way to save it.

He had stepped onto lands consumed by war, witnessing villages destroyed in flames. He had walked through places of poverty, watching starving children collapse lifelessly into the dust. He had stood amidst the ruins of cities engulfed in fire, listening to the cries and wails of survivors.

What her brother had witnessed was surely far more than her.

After facing despair countless times, he still never lost hope in humanity.

He believed the world could still be saved, that human kindness would not be fully extinguished. He longed to save the world, willing to give up everything for that ideal.

And yet—

In the final moment, he abandoned his belief.

Between the world and his sister, he chose the latter.

He did not choose to save the world. He chose Emiya Miyu.

Even knowing all his beliefs would collapse because of it, even knowing he would carry endless sin, he still made that choice.

Amid ruins under the night sky, dim lights flickered, the wind carrying faint smoke and the scent of blood.

"Onii-chan...", Miyu lowered her head slightly, her long black hair covering her eyes as her fingers slowly curled tight.

Just then, a tall figure walked out of the night. Golden armor gleamed brilliantly in the firelight. His steps were steady, casual yet confident, a silver-white spear slung across his shoulder, its blade still stained with drying blood that dripped into dark red trails on the night wind.

"Milady, I’m back."

The one who came was a handsome young man, with long dark-green hair tied loosely, messy bangs falling over his forehead, yet doing nothing to diminish his proud, confident bearing.

Lancer, Achilles. One of the few greatest heroes of Greek mythology, the invincible warrior who led the Greek army against Troy.

This Servant was the companion Emiya Miyu encountered in Greece.

During battle on Greek soil, Achilles’ strength was further heightened. His already-invincible might was pushed even higher under the protection of his homeland, strength and Endurance raised to A+, and Agility reaching the ultimate rank of A++.

"Those cultists in Greece holding sacrifice rituals to summon the hellhound? I wiped them all out," Achilles spoke lightly, smiling faintly as he casually flicked off the blood from his spear tip. The silver spear cut a sharp streak of cold light through the air.

"Well, though I feel Cerberus and that sort of thing is more Herc’s specialty, monsters from the underworld aren’t that hard for me to handle either."

Greece, this land that birthed countless myths and legends, had always been steeped in mystery.

Even in this age of drained mana and world collapse, Greece was still the second-greatest gathering place of magi after the Clock Tower in London, home to many ancient families and secret arts.

Not all magi were willing to sit and wait for the end. Some had already stepped into madness.

"To summon doomsday, in order to fight doomsday."

This was the idea of a faction of magi. They believed the world’s ruin was inevitable. Since humanity could not resist extinction, why not welcome the descent of hell itself and seek its protection?

Thus, they launched a forbidden sacrifice ritual, attempting to summon the guardian beast of the underworld, Cerberus, the three-headed hound, and feed it with the blood and souls of the living, in exchange for Hades’ protection.

As Achilles said, when it came to Cerberus, Heracles was the true expert.

Heracles had once personally dragged Cerberus up from the underworld. To that hound, his intimidation was likely greater even than Hades himself.

But those so-called magi, really no more than cultists, how could they possibly summon the underworld’s true watchdog?

Their ritual was nothing more than crude blood-and-flesh magecraft, piecing together broken lives and grudges into a twisted monstrosity. Its appearance might look like Cerberus, but in nature and soul it was nothing but a fake.

Forget Achilles, even any half-competent Greek hero could have dispatched it easily.

Achilles slung his spear back on his shoulder. His golden armor glimmered faintly under the dim light.

"Milady, where to next?"

The girl in front of him dusted her cloak lightly, "To Egypt first, to meet Rider. Then, to Babylon."

Rider, Iskandar, the King of Conquerors.

Iskandar had been the first to fall in the Holy Grail War, and in this world on the brink of ruin, he was also one of the first Servants to descend.

But staying still was never in his nature.

He didn’t wait at his birthplace Macedonia for Miyu. Instead, he rode out on his own new expedition.

He toured Greece, ran into Achilles by chance, and the two drank for a full day.

After their short meeting, Rider mounted his legendary steed, Bucephalus, and rode toward Persia, staying there for a while.

Now, Iskandar had wandered to Egypt.

"From here on, for things like this, I’ll be counting on you, Lancer," Miyu said.

Achilles chuckled, shrugging casually, his spear wobbling slightly on his shoulder, "No problem, milady. But honestly, in this world, there’s no end to things like that."

"I know. Doing our best is enough," Miyu’s tone held not a hint of wavering.

She let out a slow breath, "I have no intention of being the world’s savior."

"I’m only imitating that person, doing some of the things he would have done."

Behind Miyu, her shadow stretched long, merging with the night. In that darkness, one could faintly glimpse the silhouette of a black warrior.

That figure stood silently behind her, blue soul-fire flickering faintly in its eyes.

She could feel the immense power still flowing within her body, the power she held as a "Child of God."

In theory, Miyu still had the chance to use this power to save the world.

But she had no intention of doing so.

Emiya Miyu had made the same choice as her brother, between the world and her family, she chose the latter.

Compared to the vast, distant world, she valued her family, her bonds more.

The difference from Shirou was, Miyu felt no psychological burden from this choice.

"However—", Her voice lowered slightly.

There was still a sense of dissonance.

Miyu slowly raised her hand, spreading her fingers slightly, peering through the gaps at the gray sky above.

The sky was still deathly silent, the sun swallowed by eternal haze, no longer shedding its warm glow.

She felt a hard-to-describe sense of disharmony.

"It feels like... I’ve forgotten something important. Someone important...", Like a thin thread tangled deep around her heart, faintly tugging her thoughts, sometimes tightening, stabbing her with fleeting pangs.

"Who... could it be..."

———

"Achoo!"

A crisp sound rang through the living room. The silver-haired girl shivered slightly, her nose reddened, holding a game controller in both hands. Because of her sudden sneeze, her finger slipped just as she was about to press a button.

In that instant, the red-hatted plumber she was controlling was struck by her opponent’s yellow electric mouse with a blindingly fast strike.

On screen, Mario was hit again and again by bursts of lightning, then knocked down with a down-smash, an aerial, and Thunder, strung together in a combo. Finally, with the finishing blow of Pikachu’s Final Smash, he turned into a shooting star and was sent flying off the stage.

As the words "GAME OVER!" appeared on the screen, the match was decided.

"I win, Illya. Remember, loser has to go do homework," Putting down his controller, Emiya Shirou spoke with a grin.

Illya spun around, her ruby-like eyes wide and round.

"That one doesn’t count! That was an accident!"

"Illya, you’ve already lost three times in a row," Liz lazily remarked, lying sideways on the sofa watching.

"Guuh!", Illya let out a frustrated but cute noise.

It was a warm weekend, summer vacation nearing. The Emiya household had long since relaxed, everyone slipping into a laid-back, lazy state.

Of course, the one exception was Sella. The diligent head maid was still as busy as ever. Tidying up, cleaning, even preparing tea and snacks in between chores.

This week’s daily life remained peaceful and uneventful.

The only thing remotely out of the ordinary was Illya’s cold. But it hadn’t lasted long. Under Shirou’s care, she recovered in just a day.

Aside from that, the only slight change for Shirou was that two transfer students had joined his class, Tohsaka Rin and Luviagelita.

Both girls were stunning in both looks and aura. The moment they enrolled, they drew the whole school’s attention, instantly becoming popular figures.

But none of that had anything to do with Shirou.

As an ordinary student, his life went on as always.

He still lived each day as before, listening attentively in class, helping in the student council room at lunch, archery practice on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and high jump and long jump training on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

As for Illya’s school life, it was even more uneventful. With not even "transfer students" to shake things up, she spent her days as a carefree elementary school girl, living her bright and simple days.

Ding-Dong~

The doorbell suddenly rang.

Shirou was about to get up to answer, but the silver-haired girl beside him leapt up faster.

"I’ll get it!", Illya shouted, skipping toward the entrance.

She thought it was the magical girl anime DVDs she’d ordered.

"At last!"

Excited, she flung the door open. Yet the next moment, the smile on her face froze.

"Eh?"

Outside wasn’t a deliveryman, but a petite, noble-looking blonde girl.

She wore a light summer outfit, a white long coat adorned with golden buttons and a purple capelet, a deep violet ribbon tied at the collar, and a red lining peeking from the coat’s hem.

On her head was a purple beret, golden hair flowing in the breeze. She wore black tights below.

She stood at the door, holding a black suitcase, tilting her head slightly. Her emerald-green eyes looked at Illya, "Hello, I’m Artoria... may I ask, is this the Emiya household?"

Illya’s pupils narrowed slightly, a silver divine gleam flickering in her eyes for an instant.

The girl seemed to roll her eyes.

"Onii-chan, what happened to that peaceful life you promised~"

Since when did a "peaceful life" include King Arthur barging in? And this one seemed to be a very special variant at that.

Wait, so we’re just defaulting to King Arthur being a girl now? The gender issue doesn’t even seem worth complaining about anymore.

Shirou walked up to the doorway, ruffling Illya’s hair. The silver gleam in her eyes had already faded.

"Miss Artoria, please come in," Shirou said.

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