Shinji Matou at Your Service

Shinji's expression changed.

That sword—though he had never seen it before—he knew very well where it came from.

The silver sword known as Saint Catherine, a sword that had never been used in life, was also Jeanne's only true weapon. (Normally, she just used her banner to hit and stab people.)

When she drew that sword, it meant—she was prepared to sacrifice herself.

"No, you can't!"

Though he didn't know how she appeared here, there was no way he could just let her vanish like this.

They had only just met! And yet—

"There's no need to use that. I'll be able to purify this thing soon enough—unless you don't trust my abilities?"

"We trust you! But if you do that, you won't have much power left for yourself. That's unacceptable. You still have other things to do," Jeanne shook her head.

"Just wrapping up the Holy Grail War. If I can do it, so can you. Fiore, say something to her."

Shinji didn't understand. Jeanne's actions, to put it bluntly, seemed like courting death as if she wouldn't feel at peace without self-destruction.

I'm telling you I can handle it, I've got this.

You say I can't? Fine, I'm using my Noble Phantasm, I'm blowing myself up.

Seriously, ladies, are you also affected by me, turning into professional bombers? Or maybe because the last time didn't go well, you're determined to blow up now.

Of course, Shinji didn't doubt that Jeanne could purify the Great Holy Grail. The legend of the crimson flames burning away evil had long existed, and with Jeanne's abilities, she should be able to burn away Angra Mainyu.

Unexpectedly, Fiore shook her head.

"No, I'm supporting her because we're running out of time."

"Huh?" We?

"You don't think traveling through parallel worlds is easy, do you? For us to appear before you, there's a price to pay. Rather than waiting for the end to disappear, it's better to use this power to help you."

"What price? Tell me, we'll figure it out together."

"There's no time left. Everything is already set in motion, so please, don't stop us. I'm begging you."

Although Shinji didn't understand the reasons, and although he didn't know why Fiore would disappear as well, it was clear that they had made up their minds. They were resolute people. Once they had decided on something, they wouldn't change.

"Ugh."

Shinji groaned bitterly. He was starting to regret—why was he a Type-Moon fan? Why did he know the characters of TYPE-MOON so well?

Because he knew them, he didn't know how to stop them. Unless he used force. Unfortunately, he was currently using all his strength to fight against the curse and had no energy to spare.

"I get it. Seriously, we've only met once, and now we're parting again. Are you doing this to get back at me?"

"Yes," Fiore admitted frankly.

"You left just like that five years ago. Consider this the principal. The interest will come later."

"If the creditor disappears, how do I pay the interest?"

"We'll meet again. Just wait."

"I sincerely hope so," Shinji felt a little more at ease. It seemed that the price, while steep, wasn't unbearable.

"Please protect us during the prayer," Fiore's consciousness switched to Jeanne once again.

"Got it."

Hearing both of their firm responses, Shinji said no more and wielded the Holy Flag, purging the curses.

He was neither a saint nor Jeanne's comrade in life, so he couldn't release the true name of the Holy Flag.

But the relic of a saint, even away from the saint herself, still possessed the power to purify evil.

With the Holy Flag and Shinji's magic, no matter how Angra Mainyu retaliated, it could not pose any threat to the praying saint.

Jeanne drew her sword.

The silver sword bestowed by the Church of Saint Catherine was indeed a fine weapon. However, such a level of mystery alone couldn't overwhelm the evil of this world.

Jeanne didn't point the blade at the surrounding curses, but rather at her palm, slicing it open without care for the blood that flowed. She knelt.

With hands clasped and eyes closed, her posture was so beautiful it evoked the image of a martyr from legend.

The devout saint softly chanted:

"The heavens declare the victory of God;

The skies proclaim the work of His hands.

Day after day they pour forth speech;

Night after night they reveal knowledge.

My heart burns inside with the flames of devotion.

This is where I meet my end.

My destiny now runs it course.

My life's dream has reached its conclusion.

I devote the only thing left to protect His way.

O' Lord, I entrust this Life to you—"

At that moment, everyone present could feel the miracle. It was an ultimate magecraft, a grand spell equivalent to Magic.

"Is this… a Reality Marble?"

Though it lasted an instant, it felt as if the entire world had been turned upside down.

Only Shinji denied it.

"No, that's not it! That's conceptual armament—a special attack Noble Phantasm crystallized from one's inner landscape—!!"

From the hilt of the sword that had been drawn, a flower of flames bloomed.

These flames were the very flames Jeanne d'Arc had poured her life into.

The condemners believed these flames were punishment for a witch, but Jeanne believed they were the salvation of the end.

The first and final sword of the Saint Jeanne d'Arc.

Its name was—"La Pucelle: The Crimson Holy Maiden".

It was a special attack Noble Phantasm, born from the crystallization of a scene so heart-rending that anyone who thought of the saint would weep.

Jeanne wasn't gripping the hilt of the sword, but the blade itself, pointing it at the densest part of the curse, the core of Angra Mainyu.

"'After despair, hope always comes (L'espoir vient après de désespoir)'."

The brilliant flower flame transformed into an explosive blade of energy.

"Come with me, Avenger, and bear the weight of your sins!"

This was the true duty of the Ruler!

It was Jeanne d'Arc's most radiant moment—the brilliance of her very life.

A Noble Phantasm that could only be used once in a lifetime, released at the cost of her life.

Such a sacrifice brought about absolute destructive power, beyond the scope of simply targeting individuals, armies, cities, or even worlds.

It didn't target mere entities—it targeted concepts.

—No matter what kind of existence it was, in the face of this Noble Phantasm, it would be obliterated in an instant. The flames to which the saint entrusted her life would burn all saints, all demons, all people, all evils, into nothingness.

Yet, despite being the closest to this crimson fire, Shinji was unharmed.

These flames symbolized not only destruction but also salvation.

What was destroyed was despair, and what was saved was hope.

What was destroyed was the enemy, and what was saved were her comrades.

The crimson flames would only burn those the saint deemed enemies. Everything else, even if engulfed in the firestorm, would remain untouched.

The radiant flames were so beautiful, so mesmerizing that one couldn't look away—and wouldn't want to.

The surrounding curses no longer mattered; in Shinji's eyes, there was only this final flame, and within it, the pure white figure of the saint, her colors fading.

She smiled at him, and softly spoke:

"We'll be waiting for you in the Spirit World."

Then, along with the crimson flames and the last of the curses, she vanished into the air.

All that remained was the devastated ground ruined by Angra Mainyu, the unconscious Fiore lying there, and the blue soul gazing blankly at the sky.

In the end, he had seen their farewell.