Fate/Counter Order

8 - Coeur and Blood (Part 3)

To his surprise, fiery embers began to dance before his eyes, carried by the scorching wind.

Confusion and more anxiety gripped Desmond, hindering him from pausing and assessing the situation. But if he turned around and came face to face with her...

And as soon as the thought crossed his mind, a blistering realization set in — there was a presence watching him.

Panic surged through Desmond, urging him to quicken his pace. With every breath he exhaled, his warm breath turned into a shimmering heat wave that distorted the air around him. The air grew suffocatingly hot, making it difficult to breathe. The flames—cursed fire intensified, transforming the surroundings into an infernal landscape. With each step, the ground beneath him seemed to radiate an unbearable heat, fueling his growing dread.

Desmond's frenzied movements betrayed his confusion and disbelief. The scorching heat enveloped him, surpassing anything he had ever experienced. The urge to scream was overwhelming, but he knew it would be futile. Survival required clear thinking, which meant he had to stop and gather his thoughts before carelessly walking into another deadly trap.

But even when he halted, the scorching wind relentlessly battered him, leaving him feeling as though he were standing amidst a raging wildfire. "Aaargh!" The flames mercilessly touch him. Gradually, his skin reddened and blistered. His magical energy was burned away. Struggling to find words to express his unease, Desmond fell into a disheartening silence.

Before he realized it, the entire area appeared identical. The trees, the rocks, the shrubs – everything was consumed by voracious dark flames, resembling the fiery depths of the Netherworld.

It became nearly impossible to discern which way to run amidst the billowing smoke that obscured his vision, allowing him to see only a few meters ahead.

Desmond stumbled forward, choosing a direction at random. His hands instinctively shielded his face, but the intense heat penetrated his skin, rendering them almost useless. Covered in sweat and soot, he struggled to regain his balance and found himself standing helpless once more.

His face contorted with despair as he tried to comprehend his current predicament. This was the Mortal World, and it was not known for such scorching heat, especially in the afternoon nearing sunset.

"No... I can't... end like this..." He muttered, his words seemingly swallowed by the roaring flames that surrounded him, intensifying the heat and making movement even more difficult.

Suddenly, the crackling of flames reached Desmond's ears from a short distance behind him, causing terror and despair to grip his heart. Footsteps. He urged himself to move, to escape, but it was futile. He could no longer even plead for mercy. The scorching temperatures threatened to consume him entirely, his once-vibrant skin turning crimson.

A pale white hand, engulfed in cursed flames, rested on Desmond's shoulder, its grip tightening with an infernal strength. The voice that followed was casual in tone, yet laced with a menacing intent.

"Found you, you wimpy bat." It said. Desmond wanted to speak, to beg for mercy, but his parched throat betrayed him. The hand left his shoulder, trailing fingers of fire along the nape of his neck, and a figure pressed against him. A voice whispered into his ear.

"How dare you flee from my sight? Did you think you could simply hide from me forever?" The voice snickered, the temperature rising further. Still now, Desmond has not realized the identity of his assailant, and he won't.

Desmond felt the hand at his back disappear as he was lifted off his feet in an unearthly fashion, propelling him to gas his mouth as he was strangled while the heat of the blazing desert burned his flesh as he sailed past. The heat of his body continued to intensify with each passing second as if he were about to be burned alive.