MMMS 89

Ryuuto had done what he could. Reinforcing her body with his mana, even going as far as exchanging saliva to stabilize the vessel. But Jack’s presence had shattered every prediction.

“You okay, Iri?” he asked, voice quieter now. He gripped her hand tightly.

“…Sorry for worrying you, Lord Ryuuto. It’s nothing serious…”

“How can you say that?” His brows furrowed. “You can’t even stand right now.”

He didn’t believe her—not for a second. Irisviel saw it in his face, the way he bit down on his lip, frustration burning behind his eyes. He always seemed so unshakable, like nothing in the world could touch him. But now, because of her, he looked completely powerless.

Something twisted in her chest at the sight.

She glanced down. “Could you… take me back to my room?”

“Of course.” Without hesitation, he scooped her up in his arms and started toward her chambers.

The room was dim, lit only by the silver glow of the moon. Ryuuto sat at her bedside, watching Irisviel lying quietly on her back, hands resting over her stomach.

“Are you tired? Want to sleep?”

He couldn’t help but remember. In the original timeline, during the war, she’d started fading—sleeping more and more as things spiraled toward the end. But now, Irisviel gave a soft shake of her head and smiled up at him. “Surprisingly, no. Not that sleepy… Hehe. Lord Ryuuto’s being really gentle tonight.”

“I’m always gentle with you.”

“…That’s true.” Her voice softened. “At first, I didn’t really believe it. But you’ve always been kind to me.”

He scratched his cheek, unsure how to respond.

Watching his awkward little reaction, she clutched her nightgown tighter. He was always so kind. So warm. And yet…

That moment from earlier refused to leave her mind. That image of him, licking blood from his palm—composed, dangerous, and achingly beautiful. It was burned into her memory. Her body, still feverish from the aftermath, trembled faintly. “Guh…”

He leaned in, brows drawing together. “What’s wrong, Iri? You’re breathing pretty hard. Is your body straining again?”

But then he saw her face up close.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shimmering red with a look she never showed in front of others. A quiet vulnerability mixed with something deeper.

He swallowed. He knew this wasn’t right. He should hold back. But in that moment, whatever restraint he’d been clinging to started to fray.

“I-Iri, I’ll grab a towel, help cool you down. You can slip off the gown, and I’ll—”

As he stood, she grabbed his wrist. Her grip was firmer than he expected.

“…Don’t.”

He blinked. “Oh. Okay…”

So she noticed. Still as sharp as ever.

But then her voice came again, low and trembling. “…Don’t leave me.”

His heart skipped. “Huh? Oh—sure. I’ll stay here tonight.” He glanced at the moonlight out the window, already calculating. I’ll sneak out around five. If Artoria or Morgan finds out, they’ll kill me…

“Don’t think about other women!!”

Before he could even react, Irisviel yanked him down into her arms.

“Wha—?!”

He landed atop her, stunned, staring into her flushed face. Her hands rose to cradle his cheeks gently.

Then she lifted her head—and kissed him.

It felt just like their first meeting… only now, their roles had completely reversed.

“…”

Ryuuto’s thoughts scattered. All he could feel was warmth—and confusion. Was this really a kiss? It almost felt like she was trying to draw something from him. The way her lips pressed against his, so full of quiet hunger, her entire body trembling with need… it didn’t feel like a romantic gesture. It felt like survival. Like she was trying to pull in his mana just by being close.

She finally pulled back, her breathing calm again. Whatever she'd needed, she’d gotten.

Without letting him go, Irisviel nestled against his chest, arms circling around his waist. The tension in her body faded. And just like that, she drifted off to sleep—peaceful, content, like a child clinging to her favorite warmth.

…

Two hours later, Kirei stood on the quiet streets of remote Yamaguchi. He had run the entire way.

Berserker’s defeat had never been part of the plan. His original instructions were simple: support the assault, then withdraw from the castle immediately.

But that man had ignored those orders. He’d stayed behind, fought the enemy head-on—and died.

With his ridiculous cloning abilities, he could’ve slipped away without a scratch. There had been no reason to fight—no logic to it, nothing that justified the risk.

So why…?

Why did he choose to face a monster like that—and throw his life away?

“Sorry, Master,” he had said. “There’s someone I just have to challenge no matter what. Please forgive my selfishness.”

And then, without hesitation, he died—by his own choice.

Kirei still didn’t understand. Even now, running through the quiet streets with the night air pressing against him, that decision stuck in his mind like a splinter.

There had been no reason. No logic. And yet, he’d gone through with it anyway.

Kirei made up his mind to report to his teacher as soon as possible, then get some rest. The more confusing pieces could wait until morning, when his mind was clearer and the sun was up.

But halfway down the street—

His body gave out.

He crumpled to the ground with a sharp thud.

“…Huh?”

He looked down, blinking in disbelief.

Everything below his left knee was gone.

There was no warning. No sensation. Just sudden emptiness—and then, all at once, the pain crashed in. Real, searing pain. Blood gushed freely, soaking the pavement beneath him.

This wasn’t a dream. This was real.

“Who’s there!?”

He forced himself upright with a grunt, yanked several Black Keys from his coat, and dropped into a low stance, eyes sweeping the shadows of Fuyuki’s sleeping streets.

That was when the voice came. Distant. Airy. Like a whisper slipping between the buildings.

“I really must thank you… Father.”

Kirei’s grip tightened.

“Assassin was a stubborn one. Took some time to fully digest her. But Berserker? He was different. So easy to absorb. And so very satisfying.”

The voice chuckled softly.

“He was a demon, after all. Rich in nutrient. Dense with sin. If you hadn’t handed me such a high-grade soul like Jack the Ripper, there’s no way I could’ve become this strong.”

When he finally caught a clear glimpse of the speaker’s face, Kotomine Kirei froze.

His blood ran cold.

“…No… That’s not possible… You should be—”

“In the Einzbern Castle?” she finished for him, tilting her head. “The one inside is me… but also not me.”

The woman smiled, and it was all wrong.

Her skin was pale as ash, hair a familiar silver-white that shimmered in the dark. But her presence was drenched in malice—twisting everything she resembled into something far worse.

She brushed her hair back with a casual flick, eyes gleaming gold with amusement. “Nice to meet you, Kotomine Kirei. My name is… Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern.”

She took a step closer, voice dripping with sweetness.

“Or if you prefer, you can just call me Irisviel.”

Dark Irsiviel