MMMS 93

Later…

Ryuuto and Maiya helped Irisviel into the manor.

As expected, the place had long since been abandoned. Dust coated everything. The air was stale. He guided them through a garden choked with waist-high weeds, then found a room that was only slightly less musty than the rest. A futon sat in one corner, still usable after a few quick shakes.

He laid Irisviel down gently.

“If anything happens to Iri… I’ll kill you.” His voice was flat, but the look he gave Maiya was cold. Then he slid the paper door shut behind him and sat on the wooden corridor outside.

He didn’t trust her. Not fully. But she was a trained operative, and she knew battlefield medicine. That was the only reason he wasn’t inside, doing it himself.

Inside, the room had the quiet air of an old countryside home—tatami mats soft underfoot, paper doors creaking faintly with the breeze, wooden panels worn with age.

Irisviel lay still, her white hair fanned out across the pillow. Her crimson eyes wandered around the room with a childlike sort of curiosity. But soon, her gaze returned to the woman beside her.

“Maiya… don’t worry. It’s not your fault.” Her voice was soft. She reached out, fingers trembling slightly, as if to brush Maiya’s cheek.

“Milady, please—don’t move.” Maiya’s voice wavered, quiet but firm. Her forehead was slick with sweat as she focused on extracting the bullet with a pair of sterilized tweezers.

“…Mmmph.” Irisviel puffed her cheeks in protest but gave in and stayed still.

A moment later, with a faint metallic clink, the bullet dropped onto the tatami.

It was out.

“Long time no see, Maiya.” Irisviel tried to sit up, offering her a wobbly smile.

“No! You need to lie down—please, just rest!”

“Hehe… you're kind of cute when you're flustered.”

“This isn’t the time for that. Let me finish bandaging you first—”

Maiya’s words trailed off.

Her eyes went wide.

The bleeding had already stopped. Not just slowed—stopped. And right in front of her, the torn skin began to stitch itself back together. Not quickly, not with any dramatic glow, but subtly, like something invisible was weaving her flesh together thread by thread.

Within seconds, the wound was gone. No scar, no trace.

Just smooth, unbroken skin.

“I… I’m sorry. Did I scare you?”

“…Milady, what’s going on?”

She gave her a small, almost mischievous smile. “Inside me right now is the holy relic used to summon Lancer—the scabbard of the King of Knights. Avalon.”

Maiya stiffened. Her eyes widened. “The sheath that grants eternal youth… and heals wounds?”

“That’s right. Avalon was what healed me.” She spoke lightly, almost as if it were nothing. “To me, though… Avalon isn’t just some magical artifact.”

Maiya blinked. “What do you mean?”

Irisviel exhaled slowly, centering her breath. “I was created for this war. You know that much already, don’t you?”

“…You’re a homunculus.”

“Yes. My purpose is to manage the Lesser Grail. To serve as its vessel. But that’s only part of the truth.”

Maiya didn’t interrupt. She just listened.

“In the Third War, the Einzbern lost everything—Servant, Grail, all of it—before the conflict even reached its conclusion. The entire ritual was declared void. So… Grandfather made a decision. He said the next vessel needed something more. A will of its own.”

She smiled again. “And that’s why I exist.”

Her tone wasn’t bitter. Just distant. Like someone telling a story they’d already made peace with.

Maiya’s expression changed.

“…Then that means…” she began, but couldn’t finish the sentence.

Irisviel nodded. “Three Servants have already fallen. The war is reaching its end. And as it does, the Grail inside me will begin to take hold. Bit by bit, it’ll consume this body. First, I’ll lose mobility. Then… my voice. My thoughts.”

Maiya bit her lip, the words catching in her throat.

Irisviel looked at her gently. “I’ll stop being myself, Maiya. That’s why I want to use the time I have left… wisely.”

There was a pause.

Then Maiya remembered. “The scabbard…”

“Yes,” Irisviel said. “It’s what’s slowing the process. Avalon keeps my body stable. Without it, I’d have fallen apart long ago.”

Her gaze shifted toward the closed door. “But now that I’m away from Lancer… Avalon’s protection is already starting to fade.”

Seeing Irisviel like this—fragile, fading—Maiya lowered her gaze.

The truth was hard to ignore now. From the very beginning, the Einzbern plan had been a one-way path. No matter who won the war, Irisviel would die. That was the cost.

Did Kiritsugu know?

Of course he did.

He always knew.

But still… he chose to fight for the Grail.

Would he really give up his wife for that? For the sake of some distant, unreachable dream?

Maiya’s certainty wavered.

She had always believed in him. In his vision. A world without sorrow, without hatred. A world where children didn’t cry themselves to sleep.

That was the man she had followed.

But she had no such dreams of her own. She had never needed them. Her life had always revolved around supporting his mission. That was enough.

Or… it used to be.

Ever since Ryuuto told her the truth—that her son was still alive—something had shifted inside her. A crack in the armor. A whisper of something she thought she’d buried long ago.

She had believed that Kiritsugu, for all his ruthlessness, still had a line he wouldn’t cross. That his family—his wife and daughter—were sacred to him.

But now?

Now she wasn’t so sure.

The idea of sacrificing them… of walking away from them for the sake of some higher cause—it was the kind of cold, saintly cruelty that left her hollow inside.

“…Why are you telling me this, Milady?”

Irisviel smiled. “Because I have something I’d like to ask of you.”

“…Ask me?”

She nodded gently. “Yes. Something only you can do.”

Maiya hesitated, then met her gaze.

“I understand,” she said quietly. “What would you have me do?”

“When I die…” Irisviel’s smile softened even more. “Please give Avalon to Lord Ryuuto.”