Chapter 88: The Death of the Patriarch

Abruptly transported, Gilgamesh first cast a wary glance around him, then in an instant comprehended everything.
“Hmph. Not a trace of a Servant to be found—so it was a magus who brought me to this sorry state?” With not a moment’s hesitation, Gilgamesh fixed Tokiomi Tohsaka with a cold, probing stare and issued his accusation.
“Jester, what game are you playing at?”
Gilgamesh had always regarded Tokiomi as, apart from his lack of loyalty, his stubbornness and foolishness, at least marginally competent—a tool that would answer his summons with adequate speed. But to discover that this man had nearly been killed by another magus, rendered incapable of further combat, and called upon him only in a last desperate bid for survival, struck him as almost laughable.
Such coincidence, and the fact that both master and Servant now stood battered and broken, left Gilgamesh tempted to summarily execute Tokiomi to vent his own fury. Yet when his gaze fell upon Kirei Kotomine standing nearby, he abandoned the notion.
Such a swift death would be far too merciful for this traitor.
“O King of Heroes, forgive my incompetence,” Tokiomi implored, his tone humble despite the urgency in his heart. “After my battle with Berserker’s Master, I am spent, wholly bereft of strength to fight. And now, at the most critical moment, Kirei has betrayed me. I beg you—lend me your might, and mete out punishment to the betrayer.”
Though panic gnawed at him, Tokiomi’s outward composure did not falter as he addressed Archer with formal deference.
But as he watched Kirei Kotomine, who had fallen silent since Archer’s arrival, Tokiomi abruptly realized he had unwittingly stumbled into a dire predicament.
Now at odds with his Servant, betrayed by Kirei, and with the Tohsaka estate destroyed, all he could do was hope Gilgamesh would distinguish right from wrong and set aside past grievances.
“Since you admit your own incompetence, why should I, the king, continue to accept such a useless vassal?” Gilgamesh asked, his voice thick with disdain as he strolled away, sparing only a mocking glance at Kirei.
“Still, you need not fret, Tokiomi. Though you have failed in your duties as a retainer, I will not disregard the bond we share. Until this contract is fulfilled, I shall not punish you further by kicking you while you are down.”
Tokiomi was struck dumb.
It was one thing for Archer to refuse his requests as usual, but did he not grasp the gravity of the current situation?
Even at his best, Tokiomi would hesitate to challenge a Church Executor; now, wounded and weakened, he stood no chance at all.
Hearing Gilgamesh’s words, Kirei seemed to take them as tacit approval, and began to slowly approach Tokiomi.
Struggling to contain the excitement that threatened to break across his face, Kirei steadied himself with each step, the fervent fire in his eyes burning ever brighter.
“No, Kirei! You mustn’t—what is it you want?”
Only at the precipice of death did Tokiomi finally lose his composure.

He simply could not comprehend how matters had come to this. His trust in Kirei had been painstakingly built over years of shared experience; the man’s diligence, caution, and respectfulness were, he believed, entirely genuine.
Of this alone, he was certain he could not be mistaken.
And what could Kirei possibly gain? He had abandoned a promising future in the Church to join the Tohsaka family in Fuyuki—surely not for the sake of seizing the Tohsaka estate?
He knew full well the family’s dire finances; to call it a hot potato would be generous.
Unable to fathom Kirei’s motives and failing to sway him, Tokiomi turned pleading eyes to Archer.
But Archer only watched Kirei with an eager anticipation, making no move to assist his own Master.
“Archer! How can you stand aside—have you truly betrayed me?”
“Jester, when you sought to cover the truth with lies and toyed with your king, you should have foreseen your own end.”
Gilgamesh did not even deign to look at Tokiomi—the utter disregard was, for Tokiomi, the cruelest punishment of all.
“If I am to die by the hand of a mere Servant, then at least—” Tokiomi’s face twisted in desperation as he prepared to unleash his final Command Seal.
But before he could act, a blade of silver flashed and severed his wrist.
“Aaah—!”
Though gravely wounded, Tokiomi was no opponent to be underestimated as long as he drew breath.
“Fool.”
A flicker of anger passed over Gilgamesh’s face, yet still he refrained from killing Tokiomi—for the moment he had long awaited had finally arrived.
“In the end, Master, you never truly understood me…”
Standing before the utterly forsaken Tokiomi, Kirei paused.
“For thirty years, my life has been nothing but emptiness and sorrow. For even the illusion of happiness, I would have sacrificed everything in pursuit.
“Because I was always cut off from this world. As long as that void persisted, I was trapped in this wretched existence. But after today, everything changes!”
Kirei’s voice rose, fervor blazing in his eyes.

“I have been baptized! I have been redeemed!”
The usually taciturn priest now wore a mask of terrifying fanaticism. He raised high the mercurial blade—symbol of trust and fellowship—and brought it down upon Tokiomi’s unguarded neck. As the hush of death descended, the last thing Tokiomi heard was Kirei’s unwavering words.
“Master—this wound across your throat marks the boundary between my wretched past and this world!”
Kirei flicked the blood from his blade, a look of deep satisfaction on his face.
Tokiomi’s dying wail was music to his ears, his collapse a vision of beauty, even his agony a source of endless fascination.
It was as if he were purging all the repressed emotion of his former life, his wild, unrestrained laughter bringing him to his knees—so out of character for the man of discipline he had always been.
Roland had once commanded him: Rejoice.
And Kirei Kotomine now tasted that sweet, wicked, and cruel despair for himself. This vivid sensation was the answer he had sought for so long.
Yet when the novelty faded, it was swiftly replaced by a deeper emptiness. But before Kirei could recover from this aching void, Gilgamesh had already approached.
“Well done, Kirei. Now, forge a new contract with your king.”
Gilgamesh, too, was pleased with his new Master. “You may not be fully formed, but you are far from dull. I believe we shall get along splendidly. For now, let us leave this filthy place and seek more suitable lodgings.”
With the pact sealed, Gilgamesh did not wait for Kirei’s reply, but turned to spiritual form and departed for the church ahead of him.
Kirei stood stunned, staring after Gilgamesh’s retreating figure, a curious smile lingering on his lips.
“As you wish, King of Heroes.”