"Cough... As I thought, victory was beyond me. Even so, I feel as though I have cast off everything within me."
"...Is that so."
The battle had been brief, and yet it had seemed strangely long. In the end, it concluded in my victory. The cause was simple enough: the innate disparity between Servants in their fundamental parameters.
Martha had used skill to draw forth force beyond the limits of her status. Yet I too possessed a technique of my own: [Mana Burst].
Pressed back little by little, Martha had at last suffered a decisive blow to the spiritual core lodged within her chest.
And yet I was far from unscathed. Though she had sensed defeat drawing near, she never surrendered her fighting spirit. She battled to the very end, and in the end she landed a final strike upon me as well.
Thanks to that, I had not been driven to dissolution, but I had suffered wounds grave enough to leave me all but unable to fight. Martha looked upon me, standing only by using Twilight as a staff, and gave a faint smile.
"Yes. Even so... I suppose I have failed as a saint. Cough To think I raised my fists at all, even under the influence of madness."
"For one so ashamed of it, you seemed to be enjoying yourself well enough in the midst of battle."
At my words, Martha, lying upon the ground, flushed red and cried out.
"...Silence! And what of you? How are you a Berserker at all? A Berserker with reason still intact—there are limits to absurdity. You do not even seem touched by [Mad Enhancement]. To any eye, you are plainly a Saber!"
"Hmph. If one cannot subdue such madness, then the name of hero would weep for shame."
"...Would you let me strike you just once more? I find you rather insufferable. No more and no less—just one blow."
Martha raised one fist as she spoke, wearing a look of utter disbelief. I let out a dry laugh and answered.
"I must decline. I have taken rather a liking to you, after all."
"...What?"
Martha stared at me blankly. Seeing that expression, I smiled and continued.
"That technique of yours is remarkable in itself. But to master it, you must have poured into it a vast measure of time and effort. Such devotion is something I admire.
And more than that—though you sensed your defeat, you did not retreat. You fought to the end and struck me in turn. That fighting spirit was splendid indeed."
"..."
"Therefore, take pride, Saint Martha. Do not be ashamed of your martial art. Rather, it is something worthy of praise."
"...Ha."
At words spoken without the slightest falsehood, Martha stiffened. Then she looked at me and let out a hollow laugh.
"Life truly is full of strange turns... In all my days, save for my master, no one ever praised me for tempering my fists. To hear such words only after death, and from someone wholly unrelated to me... I never imagined it. Still... it does not feel unpleasant."
As she spoke, her cheeks had grown faintly red. She gazed at my face for a moment, then seemed to recall something and opened her mouth once more.
"...Ah, that is right. I nearly vanished without passing this on. Listen well. I think you could contend with the dragon led by the Dragon Witch... but if you wish for certainty, go to Lyon. There you will find a dragonslayer who has slain a dragon, just as you have. Well then... until we meet again, Sir Knight."
With those final words, Martha reached her limit. Her body scattered into motes and vanished into the air.
At once, Ritsuka and Jeanne ran to my side and supported me.
Yet even as I accepted their aid, I stared blankly at the fading cluster of light that had once been Martha's prana.
Then I grasped the meaning of her final words and let out a quiet laugh.
"...Ha. To offer even information at the very end. It is impossible not to think well of her."
"...Idiot."
Thud
"...Ghk!?"
Hearing my murmur as I watched the vanishing light, Ritsuka struck me in the side with the elbow of the arm that had been supporting me, her eyes dead with exasperation.
It was not a particularly strong blow. Had an ordinary human received it, it would have left a dull ache. To a Heroic Spirit, one beyond mortal flesh, it was little more than a tap.
Had I been in proper condition, it would not even have tickled, thanks to the [Armor of the White Dragon]. It would have done no damage at all. That was doubtless why Ritsuka had dared to hit one already wounded.
But there was one thing she had overlooked: I was not in proper condition.
Martha's art was a fist technique that struck the exterior only to overturn the interior. Twice she had pierced through my [Armor of the White Dragon] and ravaged what lay within. What did that mean?
It meant, simply, that my insides were in a state beyond words. My spiritual core had not been harmed, but the body that upheld it had suffered damage near fatal. Though I still appeared sound on the outside, I was little better than a walking corpse.
Even so, my body had endured by means of [Battle Continuation A] and sheer force of will alone. It had become so precarious that even a slight shock could bring me down—and then—
".....Cough!"
"E-E-E-Elius!?"
"Aah!"
Ritsuka's elbow was enough to push me past my limit. I coughed up blood and collapsed where I stood.
Jeanne and Ritsuka, who had been supporting me even as they glared, cried out my name in alarm.
Jeanne caught me as I fell and laid me upon the ground. The moment she examined my condition, her face turned pale and she shouted.
"E-Elius! You fought her in this state? You are scarcely different from a living corpse!"
"What? Elius, is that true?"
Jeanne and Ritsuka looked down at me with anxious eyes. Meeting those gazes, I forced a smile and answered them.
"Cough... It is all right. I possess a [Dragon's Core], so if I sleep for a while, these wounds should lessen somewhat. In that sense, Master... forgive me, but may I rest for the sake of recovery?"
At my question, Ritsuka nodded at once.
"Sleep if you must, but get better quickly!"
"The Master is right. I shall wrap you in a holy shroud that aids the healing of wounds, so please rest deeply, Eli."
Jeanne drew forth a cloth as she spoke. As I looked upon that fabric, which bore a sacred air, Romani's startled voice reached my ears through the communicator, and I turned my head toward it.
"A holy shroud! If it is a holy shroud, then yes, his recovery will certainly accelerate. Combined with the draconic magical core, the healing of his injuries should become faster still."
"...Then there is no need for sleep. I shall remain awak—"
"No. You will sleep."
"Yes. Sleep."
"...?"
I had intended to keep my mind alert, for there was no knowing when another enemy Servant might descend upon us. Yet Jeanne and Ritsuka firmly forbade it. I looked at them in puzzlement.
Seeing my expression, both women averted their eyes. As I continued to stare, Jeanne spoke as though offering an excuse.
"W-We can fend off the enemy as well. And besides, Elius is our greatest strength. The recovery of your wounds is urgent above all else."
"Y-yes. Jeanne is right. And Chaldea can detect enemy Servants too, even if only at close range. Isn't that so, Doctor Romani?"
Ritsuka nodded in agreement with Jeanne's words and turned the question toward Romani. Hearing it, he hesitated before answering.
"Er... well, that is true, but... even so, I still think Elius's opinion is the better—Guhk!"
"Da Vinci Punch!"
His mouth was promptly silenced by Da Vinci. Through the communicator came a small groan of pain from Romani.
Paying that no heed, Da Vinci took the microphone and answered Ritsuka in his stead.
"...Ahem. Yes, yes! From Chaldea, we can confirm the presence of powerful magical energy bearers such as Servants or demonic beasts, so there is no need to worry overmuch. If anything is detected, we shall inform you at once."
"...I see."
The pained groans still drifting from the communicator troubled me somewhat, but I chose to ignore them and finally gave a nod.
"...Very well. I leave it to you."
"Mm! Leave it to us, Elius!"
"Please entrust it to us!"
"Fou, fou!"
Hearing Ritsuka's words, Jeanne's vow, and at last even Fou's cry, I released the strain with which I had been forcing my consciousness to remain upright.
At once, sleep came pouring down upon me. Accepting that descending slumber, I smiled and closed my eyes.
**
When I opened my eyes beneath the pouring sunlight, a strange young girl was peering down at me. She had long green hair, and from her head rose dragon horns.
I stared at her blankly. Noticing that I had awakened, the girl smiled at me and spoke.
"—You are awake, my husband?"
"..."
Even while wearing a dazed expression, I forced my newly awakened and still-stiff mind to turn.
I had only just risen. Judging by the surroundings, I was inside a tent. It seemed Jeanne and Ritsuka had moved me from the ground. But why was some unknown girl giving me a lap pillow?
From the prana I could sense, she was a Servant. From her attire, she appeared to be a Servant of Japanese origin.
There was, however, one thing of which I was certain.
She was not a Servant who had yet joined forces with Ritsuka.
Having reached that conclusion, I smiled with complete certainty. The girl, seeing my smile, smiled back at me in turn. Then I opened my mouth.
"...An enemyyy—!"
"—My husbaaaand!?"
"Side Story."
"That blonde hair and that face... Damn. This fellow knows what he is about."