Fate: Kill

Chapter 44

If strength correlated to survival, then it was no wonder the Partas Clan had believed so strongly in it. Barbaric as it sounded, it didn't mean that it went without results. If each successive generation was built upon the blood of the previous, then the newer the generation, the more elite they were. It was a question of quality over quantity, but by limiting the size of the clan, it meant that when disaster struck, few if any survived besides Esdeath.

In this case, if Esdeath was the last of her people, her strength made sense. She alone from the Partas clan survived the pressure of selection and became an undefeatable monster in the eyes of her enemies.

She was the best of the best, and the undisputed strongest in Partas clan history.

Shirou would not hold it against anyone to balk at the sight of Esdeath's approach. The frosty air that clung around her, and the almost neutral pragmatism of her eyes deducing how best to kill you could unnerve anyone. But in this case, Shirou could only see anticipation.

He had no idea what she saw in him, whether he met her ideal criteria and passed each with flying colors, or she was just reacting to someone she could acknowledge as 'strong,' it was hard to say.

What mattered was the backward tradition of a dead clan she was all too eager to practice that no one else had likely ever dared instigate...

Within the icy mist exuding from her skin, there was a fire churning from within her, burning to prove her conviction- and it wasn't diarrhea.

...

As much as the inner Taiga within him tried to lighten his mood, it honestly wasn't working. He clicked his tongue and focused on what mattered. Glancing to the distance where plums of smoke and dust rose into the air from a rain of swords, he turned to address Esdeath.

"Your army is defeated," he told her, as if somehow the news would dissuade her.

There was no dissuading her.

Rather, the fact that he'd diverted part of his attention to focus on her army seemed to irk her more than their loss. She was pouting, her fangs bared, and eyes narrowed before she tossed her military cap to the wayside, letting her long hair fall freely down her back.

Was this a case of love being blind? Or the result of a psychotic break born from a backward tribe?

"Then I stand alone," Esdeath grinned, answering neither of Shirou's inner conjectures as her expression was a mix of both.

Stubborn woman.

He grimaced, inwardly assessing himself and the energy he had access to that was rapidly draining. More than anything, the consumption of maintaining the current world would not last, let alone his use of Noble Phantasms eating at his reserves.

How long he had, he knew all too well, leaving no room for hesitation. If Esdeath wasn't contained right here and now, their clash would extend to the boundaries of the real world, making all collateral damage permanent.

Alright, fine.

There was no longer any choice. He gritted his teeth.

Have it your way.

Just as a misty frost covered Esdeath in an almost sub-zero aura, magic energy erupted around him in a billowing storm. His eyes shone blue, his hair spiking up as teal arcs of magic energy singed the ground beneath him, spurring the appearance of interface patterns over his skin.

Where others would have balked at the sight of him and the mysteries surrounding his capabilities, Esdeath maintained her composure and sought to formulate a strategy of attack. It was admirable, if not for the fact that in this moment, she was his enemy.