Run!
As a Lancer, Cú Chulainn belonged to one of the fastest classes among Servants. He was already fast by nature, and when combined with specialized acceleration techniques, his speed was nearly comparable to a rocket car in broad daylight.
Of course, a Servant isn't a tireless machine, and moving like this would quickly become unsustainable. But Cú Chulainn didn't care; he continued to push his body to its limits—faster, faster, and faster still.
It wasn't until he was completely exhausted, having drained every last bit of strength, that he finally collapsed against a large tree. There, he gently laid Bazett, whom he had been carrying on his shoulder, down.
"Lancer, don't move. I'll heal you right away."
By this point, Bazett had recovered from her paralysis. She removed her gloves, preparing to inscribe healing runes.
But Cú Chulainn reached out and stopped her, shaking his head.
"Don't waste your energy. It's no use—my spirit core is shattered. If that weren't the case, kouhai wouldn't have let us go. You should be able to feel it too, right? Our contract is falling apart."
Bazett's body trembled, and her nose stung with the urge to cry. Of course, she could feel it. She had just been holding on to a final, fleeting hope.
Unable to stand properly, Cú Chulainn reached out and, with a gentleness unlike his usual rough demeanor, patted her cheek.
"That expression doesn't suit you. The Master I know is always cheerful, always a straightforward good woman. I don't want that image to be tarnished."
"Ah… Yeah."
Bazett froze for a moment and then began rubbing her face vigorously, trying to regain her usual composure. But the more she rubbed, the more strained her expression became, until even her eyes turned red.
Cú Chulainn couldn't help but laugh.
"Haha, well, it's rare to see you like this. This isn't bad either."
"How can you still laugh!"
Bazett snapped, both angry and anxious.
"Why shouldn't I laugh?"
Cú Chulainn grinned.
"I've told you before—I value the journey more than life itself. As long as the process is exciting enough, I have no regrets, no matter how short my time may be."
"And this time?"
"This time was exciting. There were so many strong opponents, I got to see my Shishou, who I hadn't seen since leaving the Land of Shadows, I met a new kouhai, and I had you as my amazing partner—though it's a bit disappointing we didn't win in the end."
Cú Chulainn chuckled again.
"Master, from here on, you're on your own. If you have a Command Spell, there might still be a chance."
But Bazett shook her head slightly.
"…There's no chance. I won't form a contract with another Servant. My Servant, my partner, is you alone. If I can't win the Holy Grail with you, then it has no meaning."
Cú Chulainn laughed heartily.
"That's a regretful answer, but I'm happy to hear it. A good woman like you—I wouldn't have let you get away if I were still alive."
"Lancer... I…"
Bazett's face turned red as if she wanted to say something, yet didn't dare to.
Unfortunately, by this point, Cú Chulainn was too weak to notice her change in demeanor.
"Master, there's no time left. Listen to me."
"After I die, leave this place immediately. Either leave the city entirely or meet up with that Lord. Whatever you do, don't act alone, and don't stay here—because if you do, you really might die."
"I think I've figured out what that woman is planning. She's always been like that—ruthless to her enemies, and even harsher to her people."
"Don't seek revenge for me. Don't hold a grudge against kouhai. Everything that happened was my choice. If you must hate someone, hate me. Or, you can hate that woman—she's already burdened with countless grudges; she can handle one more."
In his final moments, Cú Chulainn once again extended his hand, weakly resting it on Bazett's head as he spoke softly.
"Master, you're a good woman. You're bound to have a life even more amazing than mine… Ah, I can't see anymore… Dying while sitting isn't so bad after all."
These were Cú Chulainn's last words. After he spoke, he vanished—disappearing beyond the edge of reality.
The hand on Bazett's head lost its weight, and the familiar figure she had known was gone. Dizzy with grief, Bazett collapsed to her knees.
The strength she had been pretending to hold onto finally shattered, and her tears flowed uncontrollably.
When was the last time she had cried like this? She couldn't remember. All she knew was that her heart hurt—an indescribable, searing pain.
Though she knew he was just the phantom of a long-dead hero, and though their time together had been short—less than two weeks—during that time, Bazett had felt truly happy. It was a feeling she hadn't experienced either in her family or after defecting to the Clock Tower.
His personality, his presence—everything about him felt perfectly in sync with her.
Even though it was their first meeting, it felt like they were old friends who had known each other for years.
In both life and battle, a single glance or gesture was enough for them to understand each other.
And what did this mean? Bazett, with her oblivious nature, didn't quite understand.
Perhaps it was the rare familial bond among magi. Perhaps it was a friendship seldom found in the mysterious world of magecraft. Or maybe it was something she had never considered—love.
Whichever it was, she wanted to tell him. To tell that man—
I want to be with you. Together, for longer. Please, don't leave.
But in the end, she never got to say those words. She never voiced her true feelings.
"Lord was right. I am a fool."
The woman dressed in men's clothing slapped herself hard in the face, only to clutch her cheek in frustration a moment later.
"Ow… A good woman doesn't slap herself. Ugh, why am I so stupid… A good woman… A good woman…"
Muttering to herself, sometimes complaining, sometimes frustrated, she continued doing things that probably looked foolish to any observer. Only after a long while did she stop, inexplicably breaking into laughter.
"Right. Lancer said I'm already a good woman. I just need to be myself."
Bazett stood up, broke off a tree branch, carved it into the shape of a spear, and placed it where Cú Chulainn had vanished.
"I wanted to put up a proper gravestone for you, but knowing you, I think you'd prefer this. I'll never forget you, Lancer, my partner, Cú Chulainn."
After bowing to the spear grave, Bazett turned and walked away with the same carefree and confident air that Cú Chulainn had always admired. He was never interested in delicate, fragile women—he preferred strong women, like his wife Emer, his teacher Scáthach, and Scáthach's sister Aífe—the only exception being Medb.
But as she walked, Bazett's pace gradually slowed. She glanced back at where Cú Chulainn had been, ensuring the wooden spear was no longer in sight, then slowly covered her face with her hands, letting out a quiet sob only she could hear.
"I still can't… stop the tears… Just this once, in a place you can't see…"