While Roland was briefly distracted, Emiya Kiritsugu kicked open the door. In one swift motion, he shrugged off his windbreaker, wrapped it around a primed grenade, and hurled it into the air.
Roland's gaze flicked upward. Taking a few steps back, he raised his hand. In an instant, a stone materialized in Killer Queen's grasp, ready to strike.
At this close range, with his Stand's properties, anything he targeted would be hit without fail.
The grenade detonated midair.
The premature explosion wreaked havoc within the confined space, exactly what Kiritsugu intended.
Shielded behind the adjacent doorway, Kiritsugu gripped the weapon he had retrieved from his coat. It looked almost like an antique, a simple walnut grip firearm, reminiscent of a medieval powder gun.
But it was anything but.
Though its design mirrored that of a single-shot rifle, it had been modified to withstand the recoil of sniper rifle-grade ammunition. In terms of raw firepower, it epitomized the philosophy of one shot, one kill.
Ordinary physical defenses were insufficient against such a weapon. But if the enemy resorted to magical defense, pouring power into barriers and protection, that's precisely when Kiritsugu's trump card took full effect.
Because the secret of this weapon wasn't the gun itself.
It was the bullet, which contained his own Origin in it.
Origin.
A concept etched into every being, magus or not, it defined the essence of one's existence.
Origin was the path all life unconsciously followed. Though some, like Shirou Emiya of later years with his sword affinity, could manifest incredible abilities through awakening his Origin, even those who hadn't awakened still lived in ways influenced by it.
Kiritsugu never awakened his own Origin, but he found another way to utilize it.
Leaping from behind the door, Kiritsugu raised the blackened muzzle at Roland, who stood calmly alongside Killer Queen.
"It's over," he muttered, pulling the trigger.
Everything unfolded as expected. The grenade, the chaos, the trap, all meant to force Roland to go all in with his defenses, to rely fully on that so-called Stand.
Even if the Origin Bullet didn't land a direct hit, through its magical tether, it would still impose Kiritsugu's Origin upon the target's body.
Severing and Binding
That was Kiritsugu's Origin.
Anything touched by it would be destroyed and then recombined in unnatural ways.
The area struck would necrotize. For maguss, it was far worse. Magic circuits, delicate as intricate wiring, would collapse. Nerves, vessels, and circuits would reconnect randomly, rendering the body disabled or worse.
The more refined the magus, the more devastating the result.
Thirty-seven magi had fallen to this bullet.
And now came the thirty-eighth,
Clink.
Killer Queen swatted the bullet away.
Kiritsugu blinked. Confused and dumbfounded.
"What... was that?" the he muttered, sensing something unusual.
Roland turned to Kiritsugu with an arched brow. "That was your trump card?"
Kiritsugu's breath caught. His face stiffened.
That was the hidden meaning behind what Maiya had said before.
The Origin Bullet was lethal to magus. But to someone who wasn't a magus?
Just an enhanced bullet.
Silence fell like a guillotine.
Kiritsugu's mistake was clear.
"You're not a magus," he muttered.
Roland gave a small, almost apologetic shrug. "I never claimed I was. I am just someone who is lucky, I guess."
Turning over his hand, Roland frowned at the burn-scar-like mark on his palm. There was irritation in his expression, almost pity.
The wound was real.
Killer Queen had replicated the Origin Bullet's effect on Roland himself, as expected. The injury wasn't life-threatening, but that hand was temporarily out of commission.
Fortunately, he had already made preparations.
"In a way, externalizing magic power does have its benefits," Roland mused, flexing his good hand.
Kiritsugu's eyes widened. "You… took the Command Seal from someone else?"
His voice trembled. His fingers began to shake.
Suddenly, the truth behind the fog was becoming clear.
A Master had already died. The Servant had survived and passed the Seals to this man.
And the two serial killings he'd investigated before arriving in Fuyuki...
It was them.
This man and his Servant, treating the city as a feeding ground.
"I won't let you leave alive," Kiritsugu said through gritted teeth, the Command Seal on his hand glowing.
They weren't here for the Holy Grail War.
They were criminals
"No? Then I think you don't understand the situation, Emiya Kiritsugu."
Roland chuckled quietly and stepped forward.
"You think Killer Queen can't get close to you. Maybe you're right."
He tilted his head. "But what about my other two stands?"
A second voice cut in.
"Show me here!"
Behind Kiritsugu, a tiny, spectral car, the lingering shadow of some ghostly crime, rolled toward him. Its engine purred like a hungry animal.
"I recalled sheer heart attack before you even got here," Roland said lightly. "So tell me, Magus Killer, what are you going to do now?"
Blocked on both sides.
Ahead: Roland.
Behind: the deathly Stand.
Kiritsugu's heartbeat thundered in his ears. The Command Seal on his hand pulsed a brilliant red.
And then, just as tension reached its peak,
Roland stopped. Smiled warmly.
"Is it really worth wasting a Command Seal just to survive this?"
Kiritsugu's voice was low. "Of course not. But I don't believe you'll let me walk away."
Short. Firm. Unyielding.
Kiritsugu had betrayed many in the past. He expected no better from others.
"Ah, so you're projecting," Roland mused. "You think everyone's like you. But I'm very trustworthy, you know."
He smiled wider.
"Still, I won't lie. It's annoying to let a man go when I have the upper hand. So... how about a trade?"
Roland leaned in slightly, voice soft but firm.
"I heard from that woman, Maiya, was it? That your holy relic is King Arthur's scabbard. Avalon."
"That's how you survived Sheer heart attack, right?"
"Give it to me, and I'll let you go."
The quiet demand pierced through the air.
Kiritsugu didn't doubt for a second: if he refused, Roland would summon his Servant and kill him without hesitation.
Because he would do the same.
A holy relic... for a Command Seal.
"I don't trust you," Kiritsugu muttered.
"But you don't have much of a choice, do you?" Roland replied calmly. "Even if I betray you, it's only a relic you'll lose."
And Kiritsugu lowered his head.
He had no choice.
The Command Seals were a vital core to his strategy. Avalon, while powerful, was just a defensive trump card. Irisviel's magic could act as a substitute in its place.
If he agreed, he could deescalate the situation and protect the war effort.
If he refused, he'd die.
Reaching into his coat, Kiritsugu touched his pants pocket, almost habitually reaching for a cigarette.
Then he remembered, Maiya, the one who used to buy them for him, was gone.
He said nothing more.
With a bitter expression, he retrieved the golden, enameled scabbard and tossed it to Roland.
There was no choice.
But he still had one question.
"Seventh Master.....Your name."
Roland stepped forward, catching Avalon gently in his arms as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.
"....Roland," he said. "Just, Roland."
The light in his eyes was reverent. The golden scabbard shimmered in his hands, but in Roland's vision, it pulsed not with golden light but a deep, suffocating red.
A scarlet glow, thick like congealed blood.
And then, he heard a sound from within from-
The Key Of All Spirits
"The soul of the Holy Lord has been recovered."