After Artoria had dressed, the two of them went to the chapel where Illya was lying.
The girl lay beneath a crucifix statue, peaceful as if asleep. Arthas, his expression tender, knelt beside her and took her hand.
Artoria's face showed a hint of envy, but no jealousy. She leaned closer, carefully observing Illya's body.
She quickly found the crux of the problem, her brow furrowing slightly.
"Well, did you figure out what's wrong?"
"All I see is magic… immense magical energy coursing through Illya, and it feels very familiar."
Artoria's expression soured. It was indeed familiar magic—the magic of opponents she'd fought.
Rider, Lancer… and several other Servants' magic, all mixed together.
"Why… is this happening? Illya's body is like a container… a vessel holding the power and souls of Servants."
Arthas's face fell at Saber's words. Combining this with Illya's previous conversations, he seemed to grasp the situation.
"The Einzberns created the Grail… and to contain the Greater Grail's power, there's a Lesser Grail… which the Einzbern family has always guarded."
"Arthas, you mean…"
"Yes… if I'm not mistaken, the Einzbern Lesser Grail is inside Illya…"
Arthas clenched his fists. No wonder Illya's condition had become increasingly strange as the Grail War progressed. She'd known her fate and prepared for death.
"How cunning… Illya, if you die, what will happen to me, to Illya?! Do you think I'm a heartless bastard who'll get the Grail and wish to return to my world, ignoring your death?!"
Hugging his wife, Arthas cried out in pain.
"Don't worry, I won't let you die, I won't! I'll get the Grail, and use its wish to save you, I swear it!"
Gently holding his wife's frail body, Arthas made this vow. Artoria, watching silently, offered a tender, envious smile.
How wonderful… Illya, to have such a loving husband. I wonder when I'll have the same place in his heart. I truly envy you.
When Illya opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was the crimson glow of the setting sun through the underground warehouse's skylight.
Having lost consciousness, the entire day seemed to have vanished; she'd been in a deep sleep. Her failing body was closer to a state of suspended animation than sleep.
A comforting warmth touched her palm; Arthas was beside her.
"Arthas…"
Illya whispered. Arthas, like a hound answering its master's call, immediately turned to her.
"What time is it…"
"It's almost evening, Illya." Arthas replied gently.
"Is that so… how long… was I unconscious…" Illya said, her eyes vacant and lifeless, filling Arthas with pain.
He could only sit there, holding her hand, keeping her company.
"You were unconscious for a whole day. You've finally woken up."
Arthas said, stroking Illya's face; her skin was chillingly cold.
His hand trembled as he caressed her, gently, as if handling fragile porcelain.
"Why are you crying? That's not like you, Arthas. My husband should always be calm and wise."
"It's nothing. Just sand in my eyes."
Arthas said awkwardly, wiping his eyes.
"Listen… don't be sad. This ending… was destined. Arthas should know; I'm the vessel for the Lesser Grail. When the time comes, I'll summon the Grail, and you'll get your wish."
"Don't worry, I won't let you die, I absolutely won't!"
Arthas trembled at Illya's heartbreaking words. He couldn't even hug her; she was too weak, so frail that any force might kill her.
"Don't be sad, don't be upset, don't blame yourself. You're a good husband. Being your wife is an honor."
"Thank you, truly. But… it's enough. Someone like me, receiving this much love… it's enough."
Illya said this, then, weakened, closed her eyes and fell back asleep. Arthas gently held her hand, a bitter smile on his face.
"I should be the one apologizing. Someone like me, marrying a woman like you… I'm incredibly lucky."
Gently kissing Illya's forehead, Arthas laid her down and stood up.
Flandre and Artoria stood outside, watching Arthas with concern.
"I'm fine. Completely fine."
Offering a faint smile to the two girls, Arthas straightened, staring out at the fading light.
"Let's go. It's time to end this war."
Arthas said, looking down at the crimson marks on his arm, the four Command Seals shining ominously in the dim light.
I imagine you're impatient, Kiritsugu Emiya… and Gilgamesh, King of Heroes.
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