The forest grew denser as our group moved away from the mansion. Branches cracked beneath our feet, leaves cut through the air as we ran through the darkness and the strong smell of damp. Arturia, with a determined posture and firm expression, held me in her arms; I was still too weak to run alone.
I was completely blushing.
"I-I can walk... I swear I can..." I murmured, looking away, trying to hide my face in Arturia's shoulder.
"You're still weak. Hold on tight." she replied, dryly, but with a strange kindness. Her strength was impressive; even carrying me, she moved lightly, as if she weighed nothing.
Behind us, Rin followed with difficulty, panting.
"That woman... Uro... how did she disappear like that?!" she said, looking over her shoulder. "She was right behind us!"
Uraume, quieter, ran beside Rin with her eyes alert, like a predator on the lookout. "She uses Non-Physical Interaction... it's as if she could disappear from the material plane. But she hasn't disappeared, she's just waiting for the right moment."
Everyone fell silent for a moment, and the sound of the forest seemed to swallow up any noise. The rustling of the leaves, the sound of footsteps, the crows in the distance, it was as if everything came together in a single melody of tension. I held the fabric of Arturia's cloak tightly, while I tried to pay attention to the surroundings, despite my shame and exhaustion.
"She's playing with us..." I said quietly. "She wants to tire us out or catch someone off guard..."
Arturia nodded. "If she hides in the shadows, then we have to find a place where there are no shadows to hide."
Rin snorted, trying to catch her breath. "What do you suggest? Camp by a campfire in the middle of the clearing?"
But before the answer could come, Uraume stopped abruptly, raising his arm.
Everyone stopped.
"Someone is here." Uraume said, his eyes half closed. "Next... watching. Waiting. Don't run anymore. If we run, she'll choose the moment. If we stop, we'll force her to act."
The silence was oppressive. And somewhere among the trees... Uro Takako was watching.
With a slight smile.
The group stopped in a small clearing surrounded by tall trees and moss that covered part of the damp ground. The evening light filtered through the canopies, creating a golden and silent atmosphere. The sound of distant birds and the wind passing through the leaves gave the place an air of momentary tranquility, despite the tension that still hung over us all.
Arturia knelt carefully, placing me on the ground against a moss-covered stone. She then sat down heavily to the side, supporting herself with one hand. Her chest rose and fell with the effort of her contained breathing.
"Are you okay?" Rin asked, approaching with a low voice.
Arturia nodded, but did not hide the slight tremor in her shoulders. "I'm... just feeling the effects. I'm not fully recovered... Forcing my mana to carry Yuji, to run, to keep my senses alert... it drained me more than I thought."
Still blushing, I looked at her with a mixture of guilt and concern. "Sorry... I should have insisted more on walking..."
Arturia looked at me, her gaze firm but not hostile. "You did what you could. Now stay still and catch your breath."
Uraume stood at the edge of the clearing, observing the surroundings with half-closed eyes. She seemed immune to fatigue, or simply ignored it.
"It seems she stopped following us... for now." Uraume said. "But don't think she's given up. Uro is inpatient. And dangerous."
Rin sat down next to me, running a hand through his sweaty hair and trying to regain control of his breathing.
"To think this war could be just between Servants and Masters..." he muttered. "But now we have cursed beings, reincarnations, and even a lunatic..."
I looked away, looking at the dense forest ahead.
"Archer... Toji is still there..."
Silence fell over the group, thick as the fog that was beginning to form on the forest floor. For a moment, everyone just listened to the nature around them, the only reminder that, even in the midst of war and tragedy, the world still breathed.
The boom echoed through the forest like thunder ripping through the clear sky. The trees shook, some birds took flight in panic, and the ground vibrated beneath the group's feet. I tried to get up, even though I was still weak, but Arturia pushed me back down firmly.
"Stay alert..." she said, her eyes fixed in the direction of the sound.
From the dense bushes and the fog that was beginning to condense, a colossal figure emerged. The dim light filtered through the trees revealed the menacing outline of Berserker, his gigantic body partially shrouded in shadows, his eyes like glowing coals, breathing heavily like a wild beast about to break its bonds. His skin was covered in marks and cuts, some still bleeding, but he stood firm. And, worse: with the same murderous aura as before, perhaps even more intense.
"He... survived?" Rin said almost in a whisper, taking a step back.
"Where are Toji and Archer?" Arturia murmured, still trying to understand the situation.
Uraume took a step forward, her expression now more serious than ever. She did not hesitate. With a subtle movement, the air around her began to cool, and ice crystals began to form on her fingertips.
"Run!" she said without turning her face.
"What?" Rin hesitated.
"I said run! I'll hold him off. Alone, if I have to." Her voice was as cold as the breeze that began to blow between them.
I tried to protest, but Arturia was already pulling me by the arm, even though she was injured.
"Let's not waste anyone's sacrifice."
"But—!"
"Now!" she said firmly.
The group turned and began to run. The forest seemed darker with each step, but behind them, Uraume stood tall, facing the titan that was Berserker.
Berserker let out a roar that shook the surrounding trees, then charged toward them, but was stopped by a wall of ice that rose in the blink of an eye. Uraume appeared above, floating lightly, her hair blowing in the wind and an icy aura exploding around her like a blizzard.
"You may seem immortal..." she said coldly, raising her arms. "...but I just need to freeze them long enough to ensure their escape."
The clash was about to begin right there, in the middle of the forest, Uraume against one of the most feared Servants.
And the group, without knowing if their allies were alive or dead, ran through the trees, with the shadow of fate growing ever closer.
Uraume remained suspended in the air, floating lightly as the cold around her became almost tangible. The ground began to crack beneath her feet, covered in a thin and treacherous layer of ice. The temperature dropped drastically in a matter of seconds, the humid and dense forest now looking like a harsh winter field, without any snow having even fallen.
She spread her arms, her silver eyes shining with a cruel tone. "You will not cross this limit, Berserker."
With an almost imperceptible movement of his fingers, dozens of ice spikes emerged from the ground, trees, and even the condensed air, forming a lethal prison around Berserker. The razor-sharp spikes appeared with explosive force, some piercing thick trunks, others piercing the ground and creating shockwaves that sent birds fleeing in panic.
Berserker roared once more, with uncontainable fury. His already wounded skin was now struck by frozen blades that pierced his muscles like needles. But he resisted. He advanced. Even with the spikes tearing him apart, even with parts of his body frozen in black ice.
Uraume retreated into the air, now forming a new circle of symbols around him. His lips moved, whispering an ancient incantation, while new formations rose like ice flowers, now with curved tips, like scythes.
"Die here… or be sealed forever." she said, her voice as cold as steel.
The spikes shot out in sync, aiming for Berserker's vital points. The attack was so precise and aggressive that an explosion of crystals and mist covered everything for an instant. Ice and blood spread, creating a dark mist that hid the giant's body.
But even so…
He still didn't fall.
With an unearthly roar, Berserker broke through most of the ice prison, his muscles pulsing, his eyes burning like embers. Uraume retreated a few more meters in the air, surprised. She could see: there was little left… he was weakening. There were too many deep cuts. Blood was gushing out, slow, darker.
She didn't know that there were only three lives left.
But that was enough for her to realize: "If you keep this up… I can kill you."
So she clenched her fists and prepared her next attack. "Come on, beast! The next dance will be the last."
And the thorns began to grow again, even sharper, even more lethal, ready to pierce the beast's heart until silence took over the forest.
Uraume felt the air around her freeze completely, each breath she took seemed to weigh on her lungs, not from exhaustion, but from frustration. She had already thrown enough spikes to pierce a mountain. Berserker's body was torn, bloody, with ice crystals piercing his arms, legs and even part of his torso. Each blow had been calculated with precision to hit vital points, even if he was an aberration beyond common logic.
But...
He would not die.
Berserker staggered, falling to his knees for a brief moment. The ground shook. One of the spikes that pierced his collarbone broke with the snap of a muscle. The monster, panting like a cornered beast, got up again, his body trembling, but his eyes shining with inhuman rage. He grabbed one of the spikes stuck in his chest and brutally ripped it out, throwing the frozen fragment to the side.
Uraume watched him from above, her eyes half-closed.
"What are you…?" Uraume murmured.
She knew. Berserker still had two lives left. Her instincts told her that something was wrong, that even without high-level magic, that creature shouldn't be able to endure so much. It was more than resistance. It was something abnormal, as if the very will to die had been ripped from that being.
With a quick gesture, she launched dozens more spikes, now made of cursed ice, enveloped in a dark mist that drained energy on contact. They pierced the Berserker, chest, back, shoulders, neck, and pinned him against the wall of a twisted tree. The impact was so strong that cracks formed in the trunk, and part of the forest seemed to shudder with the blow.
Silence.
Uraume floated closer, cautiously. The monster's blood dripped thickly, covering the ice crystals with a red layer. Her eyes were half-open. Her body was shaking.
She whispered coldly,
"It's over."
But then, the Berserker's head snapped up. A muffled roar escaped his throat, and the black marks of Illya's command shone on his chest. It was as if, in that instant, his anger was renewed… with hatred, with order, with pain.
With an animalistic roar, he blasted the thorns around him with a wave of pure physical force, without resorting to magic. Ice flew in all directions like shrapnel.
Uraume raised an ice shield to protect herself from the blast, but the impact threw her backwards into the air. She steadied herself with difficulty, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Not yet…?"
Berserker staggered, but she was standing.
And Uraume, powerful as she was, knew she didn't have many chances left.
The air grew heavy.
Each step Berserker took made the ground tremble as if the earth rejected the presence of something so brutal. His muscles were covered in cuts and open wounds, but none of them bled as they should, the heat of his rage cauterizing everything. And then, with a bestial roar, he began to destroy the ice spikes around him with his bare hands.
One by one.
CRACK.
Crystals that had pierced his flesh were brutally torn out, shattering against the ground.
CRACK. CRACK.
Other, larger spikes, that rose like spears around him, were broken with simple punches or pushes, even as his fists bled from the shards embedded in them. Uraume watched with wide eyes. She had never seen a creature react so much to pain. The magic that had previously seemed to restrain the monster was being completely rejected.
The icy mist, once dense, now dissipated with the insane heat emanating from Berserker. What had once seemed like a sure victory… was now turning against her.
"This is..." Uraume muttered. "Pure hatred... How familiar."
Berserker threw a blank, savage gaze in her direction. He had lost what was left of his rationality. He was no longer Illya's servant. He was a maddened titan, guided by primal instincts.
He lowered his body, his breathing heavy like that of a beast about to attack. And then… he ran.
Uraume had no time to think, he just raised a wall of ice in front of him.
But Berserker passed through it like it was paper.
The shockwave threw Uraume back, slamming into a tree with force. She fell to her knees, blood dripping from her lips, feeling her body shudder.
"Tsk… damn monster."
Berserker was advancing again, and she knew: if she didn't find a way to end this quickly, not even she would make it out of this fight alive.
The battlefield seemed to have frozen in time for a moment.
Uraume, with her eyes half closed, channeled as much cursed energy and cold energy as she could muster. The ground beneath her feet was covered in a thin layer of white, and translucent crystals rose like a storm trapped in time. With a precise movement, she made the spikes shoot out in a circular formation, hitting Berserker from all angles.
The spikes pierced his flesh, piercing his limbs, his chest, and even part of his neck. The impact was so great that Berserker's body was thrown backwards, crashing through a tree that exploded into splinters of wood.
Silence.
The frozen forest was still for a moment, shrouded in a cold, dense fog. Uraume's chest heaved with difficulty, and she, even injured, tried to maintain her composure.
She walked slowly towards the fallen body, the air around her as cold as death.
"It's over..." she whispered, looking at Berserker's open, empty eyes, seemingly lifeless.
But then...
A muscle twitched.
Berserker's leg moved almost imperceptibly. Uraume realized it too late.
With a monstrous roar, Berserker jumped up, with absurd speed, and threw a punch straight at Uraume's abdomen, breaking through her defense before she could react.
CRACK.
The sound of the impact was dry. Uraume felt the ice armor she had formed around her body shatter from the inside, like glass. The pain was instantaneous and absurd. The blow threw her away, colliding with a rock covered in ice, cracking it. She fell to the side, spitting blood and with her eyes wide, breathless.
Berserker staggered, bleeding from the thorns that had stuck in it, his body a living ruin... but fury moved him more than any magic.
Uraume tried to get up, but his legs wouldn't respond. His breathing was weak, and the temperature around him began to drop uncontrollably, as if in despair.
She looked at Berserker, who was now walking slowly towards her, his head bowed, his breathing panting and animalistic. He was no longer a servant, he was a brute and indomitable force.
"Can you still... fight?..." she muttered, more to herself than to him.
But deep down, she already knew.
The monster still had strength.
And he would not stop.
Meanwhile...
The forest was quiet, the smell of wet earth hung in the air, and only the sound of the group's hurried footsteps broke the silence. I was still being partially carried by Arturia, despite protesting timidly every two minutes.
"I can walk alone, seriously..." I muttered, embarrassed.
"Stay still. It's as light as a feather." Arturia responded with her usual calm, despite the exhaustion visible in her eyes.
Rin, in front, pushed aside branches and leaves until he suddenly stopped.
"There!" She pointed.
Between the trees and the hazy evening mist, an abandoned house appeared, covered in moss and partially swallowed by vegetation. The windows were shattered and the roof tilted to the side, but it still provided shelter.
They entered cautiously. The floor creaked with each step, but the walls still supported the structure. An old, blackened fireplace dominated the main room. Arturia carefully placed me on a dusty sofa.
"It doesn't look like anyone's here." Rin said, after briefly searching the rooms.
I lay down, sighing. My body still ached, and my head throbbed, but there was a respite in the air. A rare moment of peace.
"Thank you, really." I said, looking at them both.
Arturia nodded silently, kneeling beside the fireplace to try to rekindle the old embers. Rin sat on the floor, taking off her shoes and massaging her aching feet.
"It's strange..." Rin murmured, breaking the silence. "To be here, running away... in another war... with people from other eras, other curses..."
I looked up at the worn ceiling and replied: "I didn't want to involve anyone in this. But now... I feel that if we don't do something, this war could come back..."
Arturia looked up, firmly. "Then let's stop it. Together."
The fire began to appear, small, but enough to chase away the cold. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, as if the world was just waiting for the next twist of fate. We didn't know that we were about to receive news that would change the course of the war. But, for now... they could breathe.
The crackling of the fireplace filled the uncomfortable silence in the cabin. Rin, with her head down, looked at the palm of her own hand. Her body trembled slightly, not from the cold, but from a much deeper feeling.
"...No." she whispered.
Arturia and I stared at each other.
"The seal… disappeared." Rin showed her hand, where the command seal had previously shone brightly. Now, only smooth, unmarked skin remained.
I felt as if something had fallen into her stomach. I remained silent, unable to look her in the eyes.
"Archer…" Rin let the sentence trail off. She tried to stand her ground, but her eyes were watering.
I clenched my fists. The feeling of helplessness returned with full force, a crushing weight that I recognized well. It reminded me… of the time when Sukuna lived inside me.
Memories came back like knives to my mind, the times when I had no control over my body, when the people I wanted to protect ended up hurt or dead. The times when I felt like no matter how hard I tried, it would never be enough.
Back then, I was a vessel. A burden. A threat.
And now, even without Sukuna, I still felt like I had failed again. Archer had died fighting… to protect us. And I couldn't even do anything.
"I'm sorry…" I murmured, breaking the silence. "I should have done more. I should have fought alongside him…"
Arturia slowly approached, sitting next to me. "Don't carry everything alone. He knew what he was doing. And if he chose to fight for us, then honoring that means continuing… not drowning."
Rin nodded silently, though her sadness was still evident. I took a deep breath, trying to contain the wave of emotions that consumed him.
I was no longer Sukuna's vessel. But she was still someone who carried physical, mental, and spiritual scars. And now, with yet another loss, those scars burned.
But there was something I could still do: fight. For Rin. For Arturia. For Archer.
And, perhaps, for myself.
The silence that hung over the cabin became thick as fog after Rin's sentence.
She crossed her arms, sitting next to the fireplace, staring at me and Arturia, who were looking away from everything but her.
"If we're going to survive this, you two need to recover energy. And you, Arturia, know as well as I do that the only valid way in this state... is mana transfer." Rin's voice was firm, but there was a slight embarrassment that she tried to hide behind her authoritative tone.
Arturia, who normally maintained the calm expression of a knight, blushed slightly, averting her eyes to the floorboards.
"I don't think that's necessary. I can… go on for a while longer." She said, trying to sound confident, although the tremor in her voice betrayed her exhaustion.
I stood completely rigid, seemingly unsure of where to place my hands, my eyes, or my very soul.
"Mana transfer… you're talking about that thing about… about…" I choked on the words, and just imagining it made my face burn. "Is there… another way?"
"No." Rin answered dryly. "The contract between you two has been strengthened since the beginning. You have the command seals as support. Without direct transfer, Arturia will pass out soon. And Yuji… you're weaker than you look. This could help both of you!"
Arturia and I looked at each other for a moment. Neither of us seemed prepared for what that meant. The tension between us was almost palpable, not because of a lack of respect, but because of pure emotional inexperience with the situation.
Arturia cleared her throat, adjusting her posture and trying to regain her gentlemanly air. "...If it's for the mission… and if that's the best way, then… I accept."
My eyes widened. "M-me too! I mean… If it's… necessary. Like, for survival!"
Rin sighed loudly, massaging her temples as if she were dealing with two nervous children. "You two need to relax. It's not like I'm asking you to get married or anything… It's a transfer of life energy. Magic. The emotional part… you're the ones who complicate things."
I let out a nervous laugh, and Arturia looked away again, her hand resting lightly on the invisible hilt of her sword.
We knew that war would wait for no one. And that, as strange as it was, that moment of discomfort was just another one of the dozens of difficult decisions that would come. In the end… survival came first.
And the choice had already been made.
Rin stood up with a tired sigh and crossed her arms, observing the two of us for a few seconds as if deciding whether she needed to draw the situation for us.
"I'll give you some time to… prepare yourselves." She said, with a slightly teasing tone, almost like an older sister trying to hide her concern behind sarcasm. "I'll see if I can find anything useful in this cabin. Maybe supplies, maybe privacy."
I was tense. "O-Okay..."
"Transferring mana... that's all." Rin interrupted him, already walking towards the door of the room. "And that's why it's best if I leave you alone. The last thing I want is to hear weird noises and get traumatized."
Arturia coughed lightly, looking away, her knightly composure once again shaken by the awkward atmosphere.
"You're being... unnecessarily dramatic." She said, but her voice didn't have the firmness it had before.
"I'm being practical." Rin replied, her hand already on the doorknob. "And that's what you should be too. Leave your pride behind or shame will get in the way. Your life, and ours, depends on it."
And with those words, Rin left the room, letting the door creak softly as it closed. A heavy silence settled over the cabin.
I scratched the back of my neck, unsure of what to do with my hands, my gaze darting from corner to corner of the room.
"So…" I began, trying to sound natural, but my voice almost cracked. "How do we… start? Like… do we need a magic circle or…?"
Arturia, still sitting, took a deep breath. When she looked up at me, her expression was firmer, as if she had found her warrior posture again. "We don't need circles. Just focus… and confidence."
She stood up slowly, and for a moment her eyes met mine. There was fear, of course. But also a silent understanding: We were on the brink of something much bigger than they could control. The war was relentless, and we needed each other.
"Let's do this right…" she said softly. "And when this is over… we'll come back for you. All of you."
I nodded
There, in the middle of the forest, inside an old cabin and far from everything that was familiar, we both prepared ourselves not only for the transfer of mana... but to face the real weight of our choices.
The silence between Arturia and me was almost absolute, broken only by the distant sound of the wind hitting the walls of the old cabin and the soft creaking of the wood beneath her feet.
I took a deep breath, trying to find courage amidst the tension that tightened her chest. My fingers trembled slightly, but I clenched my fist. There was something heavier there than shame or nervousness, it was the mixture of exhaustion, responsibility and... something undefined, that had been growing since their paths had crossed.
I glanced sideways at Arturia.
She was sitting, almost like a statue, her arms close to her body, her hands clasped tightly, so discreetly that anyone would think it was just part of her noble and firm posture. But I noticed. I always noticed when someone tried to hide their pain. Or fear. Or doubt. I did it all the time.
Even without saying anything, I could feel her nervousness. She could feel my fear too. It was almost as if our breaths were in sync, short, hesitant, but still trying to find a common rhythm.
So I approached her, slowly.
I didn't say a word. I didn't need to. I just… I moved, letting my steps carry me to her.
Arturia looked up for a brief moment, and we both stared at each other. There was no challenge in her gaze, no hardness. Just a silence that said: I'm trying too.
We stood there, so close they could hear each other's breathing. I reached out hesitantly, touching hers carefully, as if it were something sacred.
She didn't pull away.
Instead, their fingers intertwined slowly, almost as if we were holding on to something to keep from sinking.
The transfer of mana was a ritual between Master and Servant. But at that moment, it felt like more than that. It was a silent pact. A bond forged not by words, but by mutual vulnerability. We were still afraid. We were still uncertain. But in that moment, we were allowed to trust each other.
And time passed, as if respecting the silence between us.
The dim afternoon light filtered through the cracks in the cabin's windows, enveloping the room in a soft, warm shadow. The silence between us remained, not for lack of words, but because none were necessary at that moment. It was the kind of silence that said more than any confession.
Arturia and I were side by side in bed. The boards creaked softly under our weight, but neither of us seemed to notice. I could still feel the warmth of her hand in hers. A firm but hesitant warmth, as if Arturia were constantly oscillating between duty and something she dared not name.
She looked back, trying to understand. So many battles, so many losses, so many broken promises. And yet, she was there. Firm. Present. But for the first time, she was also vulnerable. It was visible in the way her shoulders were a little lower. In the way she couldn't hold my gaze for long.
And I approached her, little by little, as if giving her time to retreat if she wanted to. But she didn't.
I raised my hand and placed it lightly on her cheek, my fingers carefully tracing the curve of her face. She closed her eyes, as if that simple gesture had broken an invisible wall. When she opened her eyes again, there was something there. A silent acceptance. A surrender.
So I leaned in slowly, feeling my heart race, and kissed her.
It was a soft kiss at first, almost shy, but full of restrained feeling, as if we were both letting out a sigh that had been held in for too long. Her lips were warm and firm, and she kissed back with the same delicate intensity, letting that moment speak for everything we still didn't know how to say.
There, in the midst of fatigue, pain, and the chaos of the world around us... We found ourselves in a moment of pause. Our two hearts were marked by battles and losses that, for an instant, met at the same pace.
And in that silent kiss, everything made sense. Even if only for a moment.
Arturia and I were still close, sitting on the old bed, where time seemed to have slowed down. The kiss we had shared, even if brief, carried desire.
When our lips parted, I kept my forehead pressed against hers. My eyes were still closed, as if I was absorbing that moment, that closeness that, for some reason, seemed more real than anything else I had felt in recent times.
It was then that I murmured in a light and almost provocative tone, a small smile forming on her face: "So... the legendary king of Great Britain also knows how to kiss?"
Arturia arched an eyebrow in surprise, but she couldn't help the slight blush that rose to her cheeks. She looked away, trying to maintain her usual composure, but failed. Her lips betrayed her with a small, discreet but sincere smile. That was the first time she had let something so human slip out in so long.
"Fool..." she replied, almost in a whisper, with a touch of irony that disguised her embarrassment.
I laughed softly, a soft and rare sound. Still looking at her, I slowly began to unbutton the top of my shirt, revealing my battle-scarred body, old and new scars, some still purple, others already faded. There was no malice in the gesture, only sincerity. An acceptance of vulnerability. A silent request for trust.
Arturia watched me in silence. She understood. More than anyone, she understood the weight of the choice. The transfer of mana was necessary... but there was more there. There was something forming between the two of us that could no longer be ignored. Something that was not just pragmatism or strategy.
She also reached out, slowly removing the glove from her left hand. Her fingers trembled for a moment, but she didn't hesitate. My green eyes were steady, determined, even though they were filled with conflicting emotions.
No more words were spoken.
At that moment, the world outside was still at war. But inside that cabin, for a brief moment, two tired hearts found shelter in each other.
The faint light of the moon filtered through the cracks in the ancient wood, dyeing the room with a pale, serene glow. The world outside was still at war, but inside, time seemed contained in a sigh.
I touched Arturia's skin with the delicacy of someone holding something sacred, not as a warrior, nor as a king, but as a woman. She, in turn, allowed herself to be stripped of her invisible armor, of the armor of duty and honor, revealing a silent humanity that she rarely showed.
When our bodies finally came together, it was as if they had both crossed an invisible threshold, not just of flesh, but of spirit. The warmth that spread between them was more than physical; it was a bond, a fusion between two who had lost so much, and now found shelter in each other.
Their movements were slow, hesitant at first, as if they were searching for a rhythm that spoke more of trust than urgency. Their ragged breathing, their closed eyes, their intertwined fingers, all said more than words could.
The sound of the wood creaking softly under the bed, the almost inaudible whisper of each other's names, the kisses that sought more than pleasure: they sought comfort, healing, redemption.
When they finally let themselves be carried away by the tide of that moment, there was no rush. The climax was not an abrupt burst, but a deep silence, like the beating of wings of something that has finally found freedom.
And when their bodies lay side by side, enveloped by shared warmth and exposed vulnerability, I felt, for the first time in a long time, that I was no longer fighting alone. Arturia did too.
There, in the cabin forgotten by the forest, two warriors recognized each other as more than that: as people.
As shelter.
Rin knocked lightly on the door, her voice sounding almost casual, but still with that typical sarcastic touch: "Are you two done... sharing mana, or are you still trying to figure out how it works?"
On the other side, silence. Then a slight sound of movement, like clothes being hurriedly adjusted.
I answered with a slightly choked voice, trying to sound normal: "Y-yes! It's... it's over."
Arturia, usually so firm, looked away, her cheeks slightly flushed. She tried to regain her serious knightly expression, but the forced calm on her face betrayed the inner turmoil.
Rin came in with a sigh, crossing her arms, her eyes scanning the two with an "I knew it" look.
"I hope they at least did it right. We don't have many Servants left, and we can't keep doing this all the time."
I was even more awkward, and Arturia tried to change the subject: "We need to prepare. If Berserker, Uro and Illya are still around, we don't have much time."
Rin smiled at her corner. She could be provocative, but deep down she was relieved. They were alive. And somehow stronger together. "So let's go. The next battle won't wait for you to be holding hands."
About that...
The surrounding floor was cracked, the trees destroyed, the forest too silent as if nature itself had fled from the monster's fury. Uraume lay between the rubble of broken ice, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, his eyes half -circled, breathing with difficulty. His white clothes, marked with red spots and tears, contrasted with the cold cold that still emanating from the surrounding ground.
She tried to get up, leaning on her arms, but her bones shouted in protest. The pain was unbearable. Still, she forced her body to obey. There was something inside her that didn't allow to give up, perhaps it was Sukuna loyalty, maybe it was just the pride of not being overcome.
In front of him, Berserker was still standing. His movements were slower. Their roars, though furious, sounded more hoarse, as if his body were slightly crumbling. But she didn't know that just a life was missing to the end. All that Uraume saw was a beast that still wanted to death.
She spit blood on the floor, panting, and whispered to herself, "Tsc ... I can't ... fall here."
He got up slowly, ice gradually forming on his feet and climbing his legs, like makeshift armor. Crystal thorns began to emerge from the trees to their silent command. The cold returned, and with him, his desire to win.
Even alone. Even wounded. She was still a living curse.
And if that grotesque creature would fall ... it would be with her taking him to hell.
Uraume's fingers trembled, no longer just for the cold she dominated, but by the limit of her deadly body. His cursed stigma was almost exhausted, his vision blushed on the edges, as if the world was slowly melting ... ironically, to someone who commanded the cold.
But even in this state, she still refused to fall. One last breath of will flameed inside her, a cold conviction, a silent fury. She concentrated the little cursed energy remaining on her feet and, with a stuffy from the pain, stepped in the floor tightly.
The earth trembled.
The sound was like the snap of thousands of glass breaking at the same time. A white wave spread through the ground in all directions, a living, brutal, cruel frost that swallowed everything in its way. The trees died frozen in a second. The stones were white. The sunlight itself seemed to lose heat, becoming pale and gray.
Berserker roared, trying to move forward, but his feet stuck to the ground. Ice climbed into his legs, as chains breaking each joint. He fought, his body tore his own muscles trying to move. But Uraume wouldn't stop.
"The eternal cold ..." she said, her voice echoing like an ancestral curse, "It's not just temperature. It's withdrawal. It's death that never warms."
She lifted her arm, her fingers crackling with tension, and a single giant spine of ice formed above her, smooth, bright, perfect as a divine spear. It was your last letter. All the remaining energy, channeled into a single gelid arrow.
"No one resists the eternal cold. Berserker"
With her trembling arm, she descended her hand and the thorn collapsed from the sky like a judgment.
Berserker's heart was drilled from top to bottom. The creature shouted a grotesque, inhuman sound that was not just pain, but frustration. A being that never retreated, now forced to bow before death.
He staggered, with his eyes glazed, and then ... fell to his knees. A final tremor traveled his body before undoing fog and magic dust.
Uraume fell shortly thereafter, exhausted. The snow began to fall, thin, silent, covering the clearing with a white veil. A cold tomb to an immortal beast.
She smiled weakly, the blood dripping from her lips.
"Rest ... on the ice. Heracles ..."
End of Chapter 17