Chapter 19: Look at You, Getting All Worked Up Again!

"Don't be nervous. I'm just looking for someone to keep me company while I watch the show."

Facing the sniper rifle Kiritsugu Emiya had suddenly swung toward him, Zoran let the corners of his mouth curl upward.

"Move again, and I'll fire," Kiritsugu said coldly. He trusted no one.

Zoran shrugged helplessly. "Look at you, getting all worked up again."

In Kiritsugu's field of vision, the man hadn't made a single move. However, the sniper rifle in Kiritsugu's hands suddenly began to groan and warp. Before he could pull the trigger, the weapon twisted into a jagged spiral of metal in a single heartbeat, its internal mechanisms pulverized.

With a heavy clatter, the scrap metal fell to the ground.

Kiritsugu stared in silence at the man in exotic robes. In his life, he had seen countless people and horrors; he could take a life without blinking. But facing Zoran, he was struck by a sudden, overwhelming sense of powerlessness.

If the target of Zoran's magic just now had been Kiritsugu himself rather than the rifle, it would be his own body lying mangled on the ground. Kiritsugu didn't imagine his bones were any sturdier than reinforced steel.

Zoran smiled, looking perfectly amiable. "See? I told you, I just wanted someone to watch the play with. It's boring alone. Besides, you aren't my target tonight."

He turned his gaze directly toward the center of the battlefield, where Shendu was now squaring off against the King of Heroes. "Who do you think will win?" he asked.

Kiritsugu had absolutely no desire to answer. He found this Master's style utterly inscrutable. Even the Joker of Gotham acted with a specific purpose, but he couldn't read this man at all. It was as if everything he did was dictated entirely by whim.

Logically, they were all rivals who should be doing everything in their power to eliminate one another. That was the standard mindset, the one Kiritsugu had lived by.

Suddenly, a possibility struck him. He looked at Zoran, his eyes wide with shock.

Unless...

This individual was so supremely confident from the very beginning that he didn't even consider the other Masters and Servants to be threats. That was why he could treat the war like a game, handling it with such effortless control.

He was like a wolf that had sauntered into a sheepfold; everything within the fence was his for the taking. Which sheep he chose for lunch was merely a matter of mood. That was why he could comfortably put an arm around another "sheep's" shoulder and chat merrily.

Because, fundamentally, they were different species.

This thought took root in Kiritsugu's heart like a seed, impossible to erase. His earpiece crackled with the voice of his assistant, Maiya.

"Kiritsugu, what happened?" she asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

"It's nothing..." he replied.

Meanwhile, Zoran continued to float serenely beside him, his eyes fixed on the stage below with genuine interest. It really did seem as if he had just found a companion for the show.

Kiritsugu narrowed his eyes. He had another gun hidden in the inner pocket of his trench coat, a backup weapon for emergencies. His experience as an operative was vast; he always had a contingency plan.

And this, surely, was the moment for it.

Zoran's gaze showed no sign of wavering toward him. If he moved carefully, the man would never notice. He was a master of subtle movement; nobody but Maiya knew about his habit of carrying a concealed sub-compact pistol. Not even his wife, Irisviel, knew.

This man was too careless. Even a wolf, if it completely ignored the lamb, could find itself vulnerable. Kiritsugu was a mere human, but he had killed more than his fair share of magi. As the "Magus Killer," he rarely missed in a critical moment.

His coat was unbuttoned, a habit that now gave him a slight advantage. Keeping his eyes locked on Zoran, he slowly reached into his coat. He moved with agonizing slowness, ensuring not even the friction of the fabric made a sound.

Zoran was still looking at the battlefield. Too careless.

Kiritsugu's hand slipped inside the coat, inching toward the inner pocket. He was close, just a bit more! With his operative reflexes, if he drew and fired from this range, the opponent wouldn't even have a half-second window to react.

That was enough!

Kiritsugu's hand moved in a blur, reaching for the pocket. Zoran remained motionless.

Perfect!

He grabbed the sub-compact... pistol?

In an instant, Kiritsugu froze. His hand closed around something in his pocket, but it wasn't shaped like a gun. His heart hammered against his ribs as a wave of despair washed over him.

Slowly, silently, he pulled the "item" out of his inner pocket.

It was a crumpled ball of iron. At least, it had been a pistol before Zoran appeared.

When did he do it? It had been pressed against his chest the whole time, how could he have felt absolutely nothing?

A bitter, weary smile broke across his weathered face. Only then did Zoran turn his head to look at him. That composed, unshakeable smile hadn't changed since the moment he arrived, even now as he faced a humiliated Kiritsugu.

"See? I told you," Zoran said, his voice carrying a hint of playful reproach. "But you just wouldn't listen..."

He shook his head helplessly. "I really don't know what to do with you. If you're still not convinced, you could always check the dagger hidden on your calf."

Kiritsugu stiffened again. He stood in a daze for a moment before shaking his head in resignation. "No need."

This man was far, far more powerful than him, in both strength and intellect. He had been utterly defeated. Every little scheme in his heart had likely been seen through long ago. That dagger, if it could even still be called a "dagger," had surely been crushed into scrap as well.

"Maiya, stand down," he said into his comms, his voice hollow.

Ignoring the confused questions from his assistant, Kiritsugu finally turned his full, solemn attention to Caster's Master. He followed Zoran's gaze to the scene below.

Archer vs. Caster?

Despite his dread of the man beside him, based on the information Kiritsugu had, he couldn't honestly say he liked Caster's chances. As a member of the Caster class, engaging a range-specialist Archer in a head-on duel without first establishing a "Territory" was tactical suicide. It was throwing away one's class advantage to strike at the enemy's peak strength. Even the most powerful Servant would suffer for such a mistake.

If it were him, he would never have permitted it.

But then again...

Looking at Zoran's unconcerned expression, he wondered: had the Caster of this war reached a level of power where he simply didn't need any tactical advantage?

At that moment, Zoran spoke up softly. "A small tip: as the Master providing Mana to Caster, my reserves are..."

He smiled. "...virtually infinite."