Chapter 57: The Curtain Falls
The dust had only just begun to settle from the battlefield behind them, yet the silence that now descended was heavier than any roar of war.
Riya's chest rose and fell with effort, his body exhausted and numb, but his eyes—his eyes were sharp.
Focused.
He stood beside Rin at the far edge of the broken coliseum, the twisted remains of the battlefield spread behind them.
Through the cracked arches of stone, a chill breeze drifted in.
At the horizon, shadows thickened.
And at the center of that darkness—
A figure stepped forward.
Lyle.
Not in triumph.
Not in command.
But cornered.
A second figure hovered quietly behind him: Agrippa.
The philosopher's expression was unreadable.
Silent.
Hollow.
Like a puppet without strings.
Riya's fingers curled more firmly around Rin's.
There were no more games.
No more armies.
No more distractions.
Just this.
The final trial.
The last gate finished creaking open.
They didn't need to pass through it.
Instead, the enemy stepped in.
Lyle walked with a limp, his coat torn, his hands trembling with the residue of magic he'd long overdrawn.
Still, his eyes burned with hatred.
"You... you should be dead," Lyle spat, his voice cracking with a mixture of disbelief and venom.
"You're not even a Heroic Spirit."
"You... You're nothing."
Riya cocked his head, unimpressed.
"You know you already lost, right?"
"You don't get to write my résumé after the boss fight."
"You cheated," Lyle hissed.
"All of this—every trial, every sacrifice—it was supposed to make you lose."
"That's what Agrippa promised me."
"But you—you broke every rule."
Agrippa remained silent.
He didn't lift his head.
"You failed the trials," Lyle continued.
"You had no right to pass."
"You had no right to get this far!"
Riya's voice dropped, flat and cold.
"I didn't pass."
"You're right."
He released Rin's hand gently.
"But I walked through hell anyway."
"And I'm still standing."
Lyle sneered. "So what? You think that makes you worthy of the Grail?"
"You think you're some kind of chosen one?"
Riya smirked. "Yeah. Pretty much."
Lyle's eyes twitched.
His jaw clenched.
He took a shaky breath—then grit his teeth and spat out the word.
"You—"
He stepped forward, eyes locked on Lyle's.
"You want to know why I think so? "
"That's Because I've got power."
Riya raised his hand—and the air shimmered as golden light danced across his skin, heat curling off his body like the opening act of a divine performance.
The very space around him began to shift, the echo of a throne whispering into being behind his gaze.
"I can fuck."
He tilted his head, smirk deepening with a glint of arrogance.
"Real women."
"Amazing ones."
"They like me."
"They want me."
"You?"
Riya gave him a once-over, slow and theatrical.
"You don't even look like you've talked to a girl without being on fire or under threat."
Lyle flinched, his eye twitching.
"And I'm just plain simply better than you."
Riya shrugged, almost apologetic—almost.
"That's the part that really stings, huh?"
"That no matter what you planned, no matter what you sacrificed, you were never the main character."
He leaned in just slightly, voice lowering into something almost pitying.
"You were never even in the running."
Lyle's teeth gnashed together as he spat through them.
"Youuuuuuuu!!!!—"
Without flourish or word, Riya's hand rose to his chest.
The air rippled.
Heat stirred.
His heartbeat slowed—and then surged with fire.
Golden light laced across his arms like molten veins, blooming beneath his skin.
He exhaled as warmth flooded through his core, through every nerve.
Not pain—passion.
His fingers opened into the air.
A hilt formed.
And then—flames.
A beautiful, wrathful sword of crimson and gold ignited in his hand, bathed in flame as if torn from the heart of a volcano.
Nero's sword.
His sword now.
Lyle didn't wait.
He screamed something incoherent and hurled a blast of raw magic—a jagged bolt of black and purple.
Riya didn't even blink.
He swung.
FWOOOOSH.
The cursed magic evaporated in a rain of glittering petals and smoke.
Lyle staggered back.
Riya stepped forward, dragging the burning blade across the ground.
"You done crying yet?"
Agrippa finally looked up.
His eyes met Riya's.
No malice.
No resistance.
Just resignation.
"You already passed my trials," he said softly.
"Not by success."
"But by conviction."
He did not raise a hand.
He did not summon a spell.
He simply stepped aside.
Lyle turned toward him in disbelief.
"What are you doing!?"
"Stop him!"
"I was only ever a gate," Agrippa replied.
"And he has already passed through."
Riya raised the sword high.
There was no hesitation.
Only the next step.
He spoke—not with fury, but with authority.
Riya thrust the blazing red sword into the cracked earth.
The impact echoed like a gavel in a silent hall.
Crimson energy pulsed from the point of contact, radiating outward in spiraling arcs.
The ground around him glowed, veins of molten red light threading through the marble like cracks in reality itself.
The air turned heavy—too heavy to breathe—as heat shimmered in waves, rose petals beginning to fall from nowhere.
A circle of golden fire expanded from the blade's hilt, enveloping them in brilliance.
"Behold my glory..."
"Hear the thunderous applause..."
"Sit down and praise... My Golden Theater!"
"Kingdom of Heaven and Hell..."
"My heaven, reconstructed!"
"This is where the limelight shines!"
"Aestus Domus Aurea!"
The world ignited.
A column of gold erupted from beneath Riya's feet, swallowing the ground and sky alike.
In a heartbeat, the entire battlefield twisted into a radiant reality marble.
The ruined coliseum was gone.
In its place: a shining Golden Theater.
Marble balconies, rose-draped pillars, and burning braziers spiraled into the heavens.
Curtains of fire licked the edge of the stage.
The air smelled of incense, of roses, of destiny.
Riya stood at its center.
Lyle was trapped within.
And Agrippa stood still—accepting.
Here, Riya ruled.
And Lyle?
Was nothing.
The sword in Riya's hands burned brighter.
He didn't give a speech.
He didn't give a warning.
He struck.
A single, blazing arc of molten steel cleaved through the marble floor and soared forward—
Lyle screamed.
The flame swallowed him before the echo reached the walls.
Agrippa closed his eyes.
The fire consumed them both.
And when the light faded...
Only Riya stood.
Alone on the stage.
The flames of Nero's theater crackled and faded, leaving behind only the scorched remains of Lyle and Agrippa's arrogance.
The golden radiance dissolved, and silence reclaimed the battlefield.
Riya let out a shaky breath.
"Well, that's done."
He turned his gaze upward toward the sky above—toward the unseen Avalon that sheltered his precious allies.
"Alright, come on out, you two," he said aloud, holding out his hand like he was calling down stars.
With a shimmer of silver mist, the air beside him twisted open.
First came Richard, stepping out like a man returning from a nap he hadn't wanted, his hand already on his sword hilt, just in case.
"Finally," Richard muttered, surveying the scorched battlefield.
"I was starting to think you forgot me."
Robin followed, yawning dramatically.
"Yeah, not gonna lie—I was about five more minutes from starting a card game with the fairies in there."
Riya smirked. "Sorry to keep you waiting."
"I needed to make sure our 'dear host' wouldn't hijack you guys mid-battle."
Richard gave a curt nod.
"Now then... is it over?"
Riya looked out over the ruined field.
"Yep."
Rin approached slowly, not speaking at first.
There was one thing left to do.
In the distance, near the collapsed pillars where her trial had been completed, a single body remained.
The Master she had got.
Her price for victory.
Still breathing.
Still bound.
Still doomed.
She stopped beside Riya, her eyes fixed in the direction of the figure.
"Cú," she said quietly, not turning.
"Bring him here."
The blue lancer appeared with a nod, vanishing in a blur of motion and reappearing moments later with the captured Master slung over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
He dropped the man unceremoniously at Rin's feet.
The Master gasped, coughing, bruised and broken.
"W-Wait, please, you don't have to do this!"
She looked down at him.
Expressionless.
"You lost," she said simply.
He shook his head, tears welling in his eyes.
"I'll give up the Grail! I'll do anything!"
"Just let me live—!"
Riya remained still, watching quietly.
Rin raised her hand.
A single rune glowed in the air between her fingers.
No theatrics.
No cruelty.
Just precision.
"I know," she said.
The rune flashed.
A breath.
A thud.
Silence.
The final body fell.
Rin turned back toward Riya, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear like it was just another task finished.
"Let's go."
They turned together.
And as if the world understood—it shifted.
The capsule at the center of the arena had descend.
It came to pick them up.
And to ascend.
A soft chime rang through the chamber as the doors opened, bathed in light.
They stood in silence for a moment, staring at the capsule's open doors.
The wind around the coliseum had finally stilled.
The dust had settled.
Another floor cleared.
Another hell behind them.
Riya let out a slow breath. "That's four down."
Rin stepped beside him, her shoulder brushing his.
"And how many left to go?"
"Doesn't matter." He smirked.
"We'll win them all."
Rin turned toward him fully, her eyes trailing over his sweat-slicked body, lingering a little too long on his chest.
"You know…" she said slowly, voice velvet-wrapped steel.
"seeing you handle that sword just now?"
"Kinda turned me on."
Riya cocked an eyebrow. "Kinda?"
Her hand slid over his chest, down the curve of his abdomen, until her fingers teased the waistband of his pants.
"Mm... Definitely."
His breath hitched just a little, but his smirk didn't falter.
"So what, you want a reward for watching me be awesome?"
Rin leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
"I want you to fuck me like you own me."
That broke his composure for half a second.
He turned to her fully, grabbing her waist and pulling her flush against him.
"Maybe later," he murmured against her lips, smirking.
"Gotta keep you wanting it, right?"
Rin scoffed, cheeks flushing with heat she refused to acknowledge.
She looked away with a huff, arms crossing under her chest—but didn't move out of his grip.
"Tch."
"As if I'd beg for it, baka" she muttered.
Then, quieter, eyes flicking back to his—
"But don't take too long… or I might find someone else to take care of me."
Riya raised an eyebrow. "You're cute when you lie."
Rin punched his shoulder—harder than necessary.
"Shut up!"
They both laughed.
Then, together, they turned toward the capsule.
Without another word, their hands found each other—fingers intertwining with easy, familiar warmth.
They were side by side.
As the doors closed behind them.
The ascent began.
Toward the next floor.
And whatever waited above.