"...How is he?"
In the dark of night, within a tent hastily raised for the army's rest, Ritsuka asked Jeanne in a hushed voice. At that question, Jeanne only lowered her head and shook it sorrowfully.
Seeing that, Ritsuka stepped into the tent Jeanne had just left.
There lay Elius, wrapped in his holy mantle and resting upon blankets supplied from Chaldea, spread over Mash's shield.
When she had first met him, he had seemed unshakable. Now, beholding Elius in so grievous a state, Ritsuka quietly approached and sat beside him.
Then she simply looked at him in silence.
"...The internal injuries he suffered from Rider worsened in this battle. He cannot endure any more fighting. If he continues... Elius may vanish."
Ritsuka felt only guilt toward Elius. The thought would not leave her mind—that he had been wounded because of her.
To protect someone as helpless as herself, he had driven his whole body to ruin.
Staring blankly at the holy mantle stained through with blood, Ritsuka slowly reached out and took Elius's hand.
At the sight, Mash spoke in a low voice.
"Senpai..."
"...I'm sorry, Mash. Could you go on ahead? I... would like to remain here a little longer."
"...Yes, Senpai."
Mash looked at Ritsuka for a moment longer. Then, seeing the state she was in, she judged that her senior needed time alone and quietly left the tent.
Thus left by herself, Ritsuka remained there for a long while, holding Elius's hand in silence.
*
"...Where am I?"
When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying within an unfamiliar tent.
So I had collapsed again. I pushed myself upright, only for pain to surge through my body and twist my face into a grimace.
My condition was wretched beyond words. I cast my gaze down for a moment at the blood-soaked cloth wrapped about me, then rose and stepped outside the tent.
Judging by the sky, it seemed I had awakened at dawn. The air was still bitterly cold, and Mash, who had been tending a fire to keep the chill at bay, sprang to her feet when she saw the tent flap drawn aside.
"You are awake! Are you well enough to stand?"
"Well enough."
"That is a lie."
In truth, even moving was a burden. Yet I had no wish to say so aloud, and thus concealed it.
But the voice from behind denied my answer at once. When I turned toward it, I saw Jeanne standing there, her face shadowed with sorrow.
"In truth, you can scarcely even keep yourself upright, Elius. Your condition is such that your Saint Graph is on the verge of breaking. In plain words, you stand at the brink of disappearance."
"..."
"You must rest now, Elius, rather than fight."
At Jeanne's words, I closed the mouth I had opened to answer. She was entirely correct. The accumulated shocks my body had endured, and the violent expenditure of prana I had forced through myself at the end to resist dragon-slaying—together they had brought me to this pass.
My Saint Graph, strained beyond all reason, was riddled with cracks. One more heavy blow, and it might truly shatter.
Even so, I shook my head and rejected Jeanne's plea that I rest.
"...No. We stand before the final battle. I cannot rest here."
"But—"
"The restoration of Human Order. Must we not see it done?"
"....."
Cutting off Jeanne before she could argue further, I lowered my gaze and looked upon the sleeping Ritsuka.
"Look upon this girl. She ought to be living out the springtime of her youth, and yet she has been cast into mortal peril by an unprecedented calamity—the Incineration of Human Order."
I sank to one knee and gently stroked Ritsuka's hair.
Once, it must have been soft and well-kept. Now it had grown rough from all she had endured. Seeing that, I lifted my head and looked back to Jeanne.
"This girl was burdened all at once with the crushing weight of restoring Human Order. Even so, though she has been driven into deadly lands in order to bear that burden, she has not yielded. She still wagers her life and fights on."
"If that is so, then how can we, who were once called heroes, permit ourselves to rest?"
I withdrew the hand that had been stroking her hair and rose to my feet. Then I stood before Jeanne and extended one hand toward her.
"I made my peace with disappearance long ago. Therefore... let us lend this girl our strength, that she may reclaim a peaceful life. Together."
Having heard me to the end, Jeanne looked at the hand I offered her. Then, after a brief pause, she took it.
Yet what followed made my eyes widen.
Still holding my hand, she pulled me toward her and drew me into an embrace.
As I stood there in astonishment, the woman in my arms whispered softly.
"...I swear it. Not as the Saint of France, but as Jeanne d'Arc herself. When you fight, I shall fight beside you. Even if the end awaiting us is death or sacrifice, I swear before God that I shall remain with you to the very last."
"Jeanne, you..."
"Even if I tried to stop you, you would only choose to sacrifice yourself alone, would you not? Then when that end comes, I shall be there with you."
"...Good grief."
A faint laugh escaped me.
My surprise lasted only a moment. Soon enough, I smiled and spoke with deliberate mischief.
"To make a confession at such a moment. That is rather astonishing."
"W-what? No, this is not a confession... no, I mean—!"
At my teasing words, the saint's face flushed red. Seeing her stammer in confusion, cheeks burning, I could not help but laugh aloud.
"Ah... hahahaha!"
"...Elius!"
Jeanne, who had been flustered beyond measure, finally realized I was jesting and glared at me.
There was something so much like an angry hound in that look that I found it endearing. So I reached out and gently patted her head.
"Yes, yes. Forgive me. It was only a jest."
"You truly are..."
I watched Jeanne lower her head beneath my hand. Then I turned my eyes toward the brightening dawn and spoke.
"Come. Let us make ready for the final battle."
"...Yes!"
And when Jeanne answered thus, a smile had already blossomed upon her face.
*
In a certain Singularity.
Crack.
"......Something about this displeases me greatly."
She sat upon her throne, seized by a fierce and inexplicable irritation. Unconsciously, her hand tightened.
Unable to withstand the grip of a king, the armrest of the throne shattered. Seeing it broken, the knight before her spoke.
"May I ask what has stirred Your Majesty's displeasure, my King?"
"...Strangely, I cannot remember. It feels as though there is something I have forgotten... and yet whatever it is, it offends me deeply."
"...."
"It displeases me beyond measure..."
Frowning, the king soon rose from her seat. Then she looked upon the knight before her and gave her command.
"But I cannot remain idle here for so trifling a reason. We shall proceed with the 'selection.'"
"As you command, my King."
The knight bowed his head to the royal order and followed behind her, thinking to himself that whoever had disturbed the king's temper was worthy of pity indeed.