In the end, the strategy meeting went nowhere.
Lady Avalon and Makiri argued the entire time, trading barbs without reaching any real conclusion.
Still, they did manage to agree on one thing: they needed an alliance.
Makiri proposed forming one with the Tohsaka Family.
With home-ground advantage and the backing of a top-tier Magus Family, Tokiomi Tohsaka was one of the strongest contenders to win this Holy Grail War. Moreover, given his character and conduct, even if he lost, he likely wouldn't be killed.
Lady Avalon, however, saw it differently.
If they were going to form an alliance, it should be with a faction of similar strength—otherwise, they'd just end up being controlled by others.
Both arguments made sense, and Shirou understood exactly where they differed.
Makiri valued "survival" above all else. Even if they lost this time, there would be another opportunity sixty years later.
Lady Avalon, on the other hand, valued "victory!" above everything. There was no "next time." This time, she intended to win—win and keep winning until the very end.
Even when it came to the life-draining side effects of the "Dead Count Shapeshifter" Command Spell, she brushed it off lightly.
"As long as we win in the end, it's fine. When that happens, Master can just wish for an immortal, ageless body~."
Neither of them was wrong.
In the end, the decision fell to Shirou.
Three days later, Shirou arrived at a music and video shop in the shopping district.
Now in the final stages of his war preparations, he planned to pick up a few things that might prove useful during the Holy Grail War.
After buying what he needed, he started heading home.
That was when a young man brushed past him…
...
...
Ryuunosuke Uryuu had an obsession with death that went far beyond the ordinary.
Death was something no one could ever experience while alive, no matter what.
At the same time, he possessed an unusually sharp instinct for telling real death apart from imitation.
To him, violent and gory films were laughable.
The plots, the visuals—everything about them felt childish.
They failed to convey even the slightest trace of what he considered the "essence of death."
People often claimed that fictional violence had a harmful influence on young minds, but to Ryuunosuke Uryuu, that idea was nothing more than a joke.
If the blood and screams in horror films had been just a little more realistic, maybe he wouldn't have turned out this way.
Not real enough. Not real enough. Not real enough!
The color of blood spraying from an artery. The warmth of organs under his fingertips. The sensation of tearing them out with his own hands.
The pain a victim felt before death. The desperate, final screams at the brink of dying.
Ah… becoming a murderer truly was wonderful.
Nothing was more real than killing someone with your own hands.
People called murder a crime, but Ryuunosuke Uryuu's way of thinking was fundamentally different.
There were over six billion people in the world, and millions died every day.
Compared to that, the number he killed was insignificant.
He believed that when he killed someone, he allowed them to fully experience death.
Compared to prolonging a meaningless life, the information, stimulation, and experience gained from a single death held far greater value.
He was an artist.
Driven by that belief, Ryuunosuke traveled across Japan, killing without pause.
The streets at night were his hunting grounds, and his prey never sensed danger until it was too late.
By now, he had claimed over thirty victims, subjecting them to all manner of execution and torture methods from throughout human history.
But even a killer like Ryuunosuke Uryuu had recently grown troubled by a lack of novelty.
To rediscover that original thrill, he returned to his hometown after five years away.
In the warehouse where his sister's corpse lay quietly waiting, he dug out a Western-style book written, filled with words like "demon," "Satan," and "spiritual descent."
With his passion reignited, Ryuunosuke Uryuu immediately headed to the city described in the book as a "land of leylines"—Fuyuki.
Next came the preparations for the ritual.
A sacrifice?
Of course it had to be a girl or a child!!
Brimming with excitement, Ryuunosuke Uryuu wandered the streets and quickly found a target.
No—more accurately, the target came to him.
As the elementary school boy brushed past him, Ryuunosuke Uryuu heard him mutter under his breath:
"You stink."
What kind of rude little brat says that?!
I'm an artist! I bathe three times a day—morning, noon, and night. There's no way I'd smell!
…Unless you somehow caught the scent of blood on me?
Ryuunosuke Uryuu stopped, turned toward the red-haired boy, and warmly invited him over to his place to hang out.
"I got something really cool. Want to come check it out?"
"Yeah, I'd like to."
The red-haired boy agreed without a second thought.
What an idiot, Ryuunosuke Uryuu snickered inwardly.
Just like that, he led the boy back to his "home."
The moment they stepped inside, the boy froze, speechless. The apartment reeked, and the floor was littered with dismembered corpses.
It was a family Ryuunosuke Uryuu had killed for amusement not long after arriving in Fuyuki. A week had passed, and the blood had long since dried into dark, crusted stains.
"Haha! Now you see what I'm capable of!"
Ryuunosuke Uryuu deftly tied up the red-haired boy's hands.
Perfect. Tonight, I'll use this cocky little brat as the ritual's living sacrifice… huh?
Ryuunosuke Uryuu frowned and looked down.
That's strange… why is there a sword stuck in my chest?
"..."
He felt a gaze on him and looked up, irritation instantly flaring.
Hey, brat! What kind of look is that?!
Don't you dare look at me like that again… wait, where's the rope?
I tied your hands properly, so why—
Forget it… today's been full of weird things…
Really… such a strange… day…
"Thud."
Ryuunosuke Uryuu collapsed into a pool of blood.
...
...
"Ugh…"
When he came to again, everything around him was pitch black.
"I feel like I had a really weird dream… what was it again? Ah, whatever… my head hurts~~~"
Clutching his splitting head, Ryuunosuke Uryuu groped his way up from the floor.
When his eyes adjusted, he saw the clock on the wall pointing to twelve.
"No, no, no! I've got to hurry! I actually slept on the floor for a whole day!
There's a ritual tonight! If I don't even have time to prepare a living sacrifice, that's a disaster!"
Flustered, Ryuunosuke Uryuu hurriedly set his plan into motion.
"Wahaha! Talk about lucky! There's fresh blood here! Cooooool~!"
The owner of this house had been dead for over a week, yet somehow fresh blood had appeared. No matter how you looked at it, something was off.
But Ryuunosuke Uryuu didn't question it. He didn't even feel the slightest doubt.
No… it was more like his brain was no longer capable of even the most basic logical thinking.
Using the mysterious blood, he began drawing a summoning circle on the floor, muttering as he worked.
"Fill it, fill it, fill it, fill it, fill it… repeat four times each… huh? Or was it five? Ah, whatever…"
The young killer, fully immersed in the joy of his Magecraft ritual, was about to encounter the greatest meeting of his life.
However, Ryuunosuke Uryuu—no—the "thing" that used to be Ryuunosuke Uryuu seemed completely unaware that his heart had already stopped beating, and that all warmth had long since left his body.