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Shirou, Blade of Emiya

Sakura has no reason to live with Shirou from Rin's perspective.
Eh, remember, she's not allowed to pry deeply because of that deal. Not to mention I doubt she knows exactly. After all, in canon she knew she spent a lot of time with Shirou, but that's it, and didn't exactly start interrogating him. Remember, this is a Rin with her head up her ass still, and it took a literal apocalypse for her to even admit she loved Sakura the first time.

Wouldn't Avalon repair any damage he got from his magic which caused changes to his skin and hair?
Thing is, canon Shirou's Avalon had severely reduced capability pre-canon without Saber, and didn't prevent shit. Just enough so he didn't kill himself with nerve circuits.

After Kiritsugu died, it would have been useful to use some of his bones to create Origin Blades that would have similar effects as his Origin Bullets. They'd also be reusable, unlike the bullets.
Not certain how feasible that would even be to forge it while preserving their innate capability, and it'd be a remarkably shitty and brittle weapon, wouldn't even block a single swipe of a blade. Not to mention, I dunno if it lost said capability when he died, or if AM's curses didn't adulterate it and make it useless. From a Doylist perspective, effectively unlimited origin bullets is kind of a bit too much of a cheat code against mages.

Later he can loot the place.
I wouldn't, it's trapped all to hell. Zouken, formerly Zolgen was a genius, yes he have all sorts of shit even if he probably had to trade some of the better parts of it for favors, but again, do you really want to raid the workshop of a several centuries old magus?

It'd be ironic if this leads Shinji to becoming a priest
Possible, it's a tangible path of power, and that's what he wants. He wouldn't be satisfied with that, of course, he'd want the Burial Agency. He is a genius amongst geniuses, despite his personality and myopia.
 
Thing is, canon Shirou's Avalon had severely reduced capability pre-canon without Saber, and didn't prevent shit. Just enough so he didn't kill himself with nerve circuits.
Depending on the route, Shirou had already lost Avalon or its powers had already been all used up by the time the color changes occurred. Here, Avalon is said to be working fully for him. Though, I'm assuming it's not literally fully since he's still aging, unlike Artoria when she had it.

but again, do you really want to raid the workshop of a several centuries old magus?
Yes. The answer is yes. Maybe not right away, but someday when he's skilled enough. Would Shinji or Sakura be keyed in to avoid the traps though? Because despite the shitty way her father tried to keep her safe, if he's right and Sakura would be vulnerable to being kidnapped and exploited by other Magi due to her potential, it's still a concern and she'd need resources to study to be able to protect herself. Shirou and Rin can't protect her 24/7 the rest of her life. Like it or not, she's been modified to practice the Matou magecraft.
 
Would Shinji or Sakura be keyed in to avoid the traps though
No way. Zouken never taught either anything, and he planned to use Sakura as a breeding sow for a new body, if not inhabit it himself. Shinji is just an external pressure to help break her, as is his odd permissiveness for Shirou.

Should Sakura learn magecraft? Yes, definitely, but I doubt she'd want to touch another insectoid familiar, she'd more likely go in the direction of her canon self with imaginary numbers.
 
Could the Mc not structural analysis the black keys then make them better with his Saint title then make a sword that has total control over shadows. Also could he do something like that sacred gear from dxd that Kiba has where he can make a sword with any ability
 
7: A moment of peace.
Chapter 7: A moment of peace.

Inside an enormous kirk situated at the heart of the Vatican, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, two men stood before a magnificent cross, the symbol of their faith, with their heads tilted in reverent worship.

"The Lord has given me directions," spoke a middle-aged man adorned in a resplendent white robe, enriched with intricate gold accents that shimmered in the flickering light of the candles. His voice carried the weight of authority and devotion.

"Garcia, tell everyone who's been sent to Fuyuki days prior in search for His light to recoup. Do not to disturb God's chosen for now and keep away from the traitor touched by the world's evil," he commanded, his tone unwavering in its conviction.

"What of their charge, the Tohsaka heir?" Garcia, a figure cloaked in shadows at the back of the chamber, expressed his concern for the young lass under the traitor's guardianship.

"Leave the child be. She remains oblivious of her guardian's workings. Now go," the holy man said.

"By your Holiness' will," Garcia responded with a respectful bow before swiftly departing. The echo of his footsteps reverberated across the hallowed halls of the prayer room before fading into silence.

Left alone amidst the ethereal ambiance, the head of the Holy Church clasped his hands together and drifted off into a prayer, his words a whispered invocation to the divine.

"May the light of God guide you, young man," the Pope whispered softly, his voice a gentle benediction, as he offered a silent prayer for the wellbeing of the newly appointed Saint.

----

I stood in front of the school gates with Sakura standing closely beside me. After telling her about what happened to Zouken, we proceeded with our lives like normal and prepared to go to school.

"Are you sure you're okay? You aren't uncomfortable anywhere, right?" I asked the lavender-haired girl in front of me, who gave a warm smile that could melt the hearts of those bearing witness to it.

While the old worm might be gone, a shard of the Holy Grail was still inside Sakura's body, worrying Shirou. 'I'll think of something to get rid of it,' he told himself. Unbeknownst to him, however, the grail had already been removed and replaced by something else entirely.

"I'm perfectly fine, senpai. I am doing better than ever," Sakura beamed. It frustrated her that they would be separated for a while, but she could always make up for that lost time back at home, when the two of them were truly alone with one another—unless a certain hungry Tiger (Taiga Fujimura) decides barge into their abode. Unbeknownst to her hero, Sakura's affection towards him was emboldened by the unknown being nestled within herself, morphing into slight possessiveness.

"Alright. I'll see you later." Hearing her spirited voice, I toned down my worries and waved her goodbye before splitting off to our respective classes. Lately, she's been calling me her senior, or 'senpai', making me cringe for a while until I got used to it. The word didn't even sound right in my head anymore due to my exposure to anime in my past life.

As I settled down on my seat, my thoughts began to drift. To be honest, Sakura's health still occupied a large portion of my mind since Zouken's death not even a day ago, fueling my paranoia that something wrong might happen to her, even though I already looked over everything and definitively concluded that the chances of anything wrong occurring was practically non-existant.

The day whizzed by like a speeding bullet and before I knew it, lunch time had arrived. I grabbed my packed meal and quietly went out of the classroom, doing my hardest to avoid interacting with anyone of my physical age. A child I might be at this moment, but I could not bring myself to act like one. Though, I cannot deny that I am childish at certain times.

While crossing an open path that lead to my usual go-to spot, a football that rolled over to my legs caught my attention. Glancing to the left, I saw a bunch of kids by the playground waving their arms at me, gesturing me to kick the object back. I obliged and sent the ball flying in their direction, before rolling to a stop right at the closest boy's feet. They shouted their thanks and went back to their activities without paying me another glance.

[You have completed a side-quest]

'Huh, neat.' The fact that something as simple as passing a ball reward me with experience points, albeit a minute amount, only fed to my instincts to aid anyone near me, which I was fine with. Not like I'm putting anyone in danger and I get stronger in the process.

After turning a few more corners, I arrived at an isolated part of the garden that even the elusive groundskeeper rarely ever visits and popped open the food container in my hands. The school rooftop was inaccessible for obvious reasons, but even then I wouldn't chose that place to eat my lunch as it was too damn sunny up there. While ranting about my dislike for roofs, a figure of short stature made an appearance from behind a bush.

"Hah, you're here. I knew it," a young girl dressed in crimson said, flicking her twintails back with her hand. Only two people in the entire campus knew where I usually hid during break: one being Sakura Matou, and the other was Rin Tohsaka. Sakura was placed on another wing of the school as she was an underclassmen of mine, so there could only be one person who came to find me.

"Oh, Rin. Nice to see you. Sit, sit." I pat the open space beside me, signaling the girl to lay down. "I have some extra food if you want a share," I spoke with a smirk, causing Rin's eyes to twitch ever slightly. By the gods, she's incredibly easy to poke fun of.

After our first meeting all those years ago, I've since become close friends with Rin and always kept her at arm's reach, we'd even hang out at times. She'll behave normally when we're together, but acts coy whenever Sakura, her biological sister, gets involved. Sometimes she would even make up an excuse on the spot to leave.

Truth be told, her inability to fully express herself had placed me on the verge of losing it a few times, but I had gotten accustomed to it over the years and even began to use this particular behavior of hers to tease and give her enough courage into showing her true emotions.

Huh, who knew people with Alexithymia (difficulty in verbal expressions, resulting in physical complaints) would be troublesome to communicate with at certain times.

"I am not your pet, Emiya, I will not be swayed in by your words." She crossed her arms, putting on an air of indifference that quickly collapsed like a house of cards upon hearing my next words.

"Sakura and I gave our best to make an extra portion just for you, you're telling me you don't want it?" The Second Owner of Fuyuki flinched, a tinge of guilt marring her otherwise adorable face.

I knew she still cared for her sister dearly, yet could not bring herself to act due to an agreement between their families. It practically meant nothing anymore considering the two who signed it are dead and the only family members left to uphold that promise are Rin and Sakura, but I had a feeling Rin would lock herself away the moment she realizes that fact. Slowly but surely, I was trying my best to pave a facile path for the two to reunite and become a family once more.

"F-fine!" she exclaimed, "Since you're offering, I might as well join you, Emiya." As a matter of fact, eating with Emiya was one of the few things the young magus looked forward to during school, it took her mind off the annoying things her caretaker had obtruded on her. He didn't need to know that, of course.

"You know, just 'Shirou' is fine. It feels awkward that only I call you by your first name, you should as well," I suggested as Rin fixed her skirt to sit next to me.

"Can… can I?" she inquires. Her sapphire eyes briefly met mine before she quickly looked away, her figure fidgeting slightly.

"Of course you can, I've been saying this for years, but you keep calling me by my last name." I reached out, putting a box filled with an assortment of foodstuff on her lap.

"Okay," Rin breathed in before awkwardly speaking, "Thank you... S-Shirou." She took hold of the item on her person and briskly opened it.

A look of surprise spread across my face, she actually spoke words of gratitude for once instead of getting physical for once. Progress! I cheered in my head. While a simple 'thank you' might not be much, it was better than than nothing.

"There you go, it wasn't that hard, was it?" I let out an amused laugh. She raised her head and responded with an embarrassed "Shut up" before setting her sight back on the food.

----

After school ended, Sakura and I went home together as usual. Taiga called saying she wouldn't be able to join us for today, much to her dismay, as she had some things to deal with at her end, leaving the two of us be the only occupants of the house.

I went to my room, took a handfull of exotic mushrooms from a sealed container and shoved it in my mouth. The fungi was without taste, mostly because it instantly killed my sense of taste. Upon swallowing, its additional effects was immediate; my whole mouth began to sting, followed by a paralyzing feel that jolted across my entire body, resulting in my muscles to numb.

[Skill 'Poison resistance' has leveled up to C - 10]

"One more level till it reaches B rank. Christ Almighty, this feels like absolute garbage," I winced. My slumped back picked itself up as the petrifying sensation gradually fizzled out.

For the past few years or so, I had been eating various poisonous objects once a day to raise my immunity against the ailment for no other reason than I could. Perhaps if I consumed enough, it would be possible to develop a skill similar to the 'Scarlet Rot', without corrupting or deforming my body of course. And maybe, just maybe, turn into the God of Rot when I'm pushed to a corner. A man can only dream of gaining such powers.

It was a disease that Malenia the Severed and many others in the Lands Between had been exposed to, gnawing away at their mind and driving them into insanity, causing those who bore this affliction to act like starved beasts.

"Senpai?" My housemate's head peeked out from around the corner, calling out to me.

"Yes?" I turned, facing the girl. Sakura stood before me, her attire consisting of a purple apron atop a peach dress, as if she had just emerged from the kitchen.

"Dinner is ready," she announced with a warm smile, confirming my thoughts.

"Okay, let me put this back first." I carefully placed the box I was holding back in its place and followed Sakura to the common room, where a collection of food had been lovingly prepared and neatly laid out on the table.

Sakura gracefully removed her apron, hanging it on a hook by the wall, before joining me at the table. She sat closer than usual, but I welcomed her presence and thought nothing much of it. Expressing my heartfelt thanks, I noticed a slight blush tinting her cheeks before we both began to enjoy the delicious meal she had prepared.

As we ate, we engaged in pleasant conversation, savoring each bite and relishing in the comfort of each other's company. Sakura seemed more animated than usual, her expressions ranging from smiles to laughter to occasional frowns, which warmed my heart. Witnessing both Rin and Sakura express themselves in such a genuine manner was truly the highlight of my day.

In the background, the television screen played a news segment. Reports detailed a recent sighting of a large number of worms exiting and roaming the sewers around Fuyuki, sparking concerns of a potential infestation. Authorities had dispatched exterminators to cleanse the city's underground trenches, aiming to appease the worried populace.

Watching the news, a sense of satisfaction washed over me. I'm willing to bet that only my companion and I were privy to the truth behind the mysterious events unfolding in our city. With Zouken Matou gone, I could finally take a break without encountering any trouble for a good while——God, I just jinxed it, didn't I? Recalling Shirou Emiya's horrendous luck, a frown forced its way onto my face. That level of misfortune shouldn't have been transferred to me, right? Please?

"Is something wrong?" Sakura commented on my change in expression, trepidation coating her voice, "Was the food n-not good?"

She seemed scared that I'd be dissatisfied with her cooking, which was blasphemy deserving of death—nay, eternal torment in the deepest pits of Hell itself. No one gets to call anything Sakura makes unsatisfactory. While she might not contend with my culinary expertise due to the System's aid, her ability to conjure meals is most definitely top tier.

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. I just thought of something, don't worry it's nothing serious." I swayed my hand in a reassuring manner, hoping to dismiss her worries.

She nodded with a look of relief on her face. The creature of love resting inside her soul quietly observed their interaction, burning every detail of the boy's appearance and habits into its memories.

I couldn't help but raise my hand and gently stroke her head, causing the girl to let out a silent yelp. She quickly averted her gaze, shuffling on her seat while doing her best to fight down the heat in her cheeks. To be honest, I didn't really do this much often. Petting someone's head just wasn't something that crosses my thoughts that much. But I still do it on occasions.

[Skill 'Head pat' has been acquired]

'What?' Upon seeing the System notification, my thoughts abruptly crashed head first into the nearest imaginary pole, killing at least half of my brain cells.

Meanwhile, inside a room crowded by shelves containing a myriad of books, a being of utter blackness sporting a scarf around their neck stiffled a laugh.

END.

Author's notes: Just a filler chapter with nothing much happening.

One more thing, expect the overall quality and update frequency to drastically drop. I'm currently going through burnout right now.
 
and keep away from the traitor touched by the world's evil,"
...So they know. I'm not certain if in canon the Church was aware of Kirei, and I'm REALLY curious as to what their knowledge of him here will mean. Maybe the in the next war Shirou can expect a few helpful Executors from the church to show up?

If nothing else, the fact that the Pope himself has acknowledged Shirou's status as a Saint is something to be happy about. The Church not damning him as a heretic is some good luck.

"What of their charge, the Tohsaka heir?"
Well, good to know they are thinking about her. Too bad they decided not to do anything though... I guess they really are just hoping she'll stay safe in her ignorance?

Calling it now.

Headpats will save his ass at some point.
Yeah, that may be the one Skill which can save him from his Onee-san's wrath.
 
Great chapter! I like the way Shirou interacts with Sakura and Rin. Maybe they can reconcile, now that the worm has been dealt with. Also, the system is great. I missed this type of fic, an overpowered system without apparent limits.

Would making small, aerodynamic swords to use as projectiles, that are definitely not bullets, help with the magic consumption? He already has a way to rend souls with Swords, just saying.

Sakura with a Yandere (?) demon inside sounds fun. I like the demon inside kinda thing. Sounds fun to have a voice in your head, as long as that doesn't drive you mad.
 
Yo, enjoying the story. Wanted to mention, I don't know if it's autocorrect or what but I feel like you're using the word malevolent wrong if it's describing holy attacks.
 
Wow. Emiya prayed so hard with the backing of gamer system to the point of receiving God's grace.

Here comes headpat skill, I am betting it's gonna work wonders on Illya. Can't wait for the day he take another step forward unlocking the 'handholding' skill.
One could say he has the power of God and Anime on his side.
 
Binge-read this and it's amazing. I'm still confused as to the "saber-face" title, though. Does that mean Shirou now looks like a red-headed Bedivere or what? It's almost 4am for me here so sorry in advance if I misunderstood btw*
 
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8: A pair of Saints.
Chapter 8: First Quest (1/3) - A pair of Saints.

As the sun broke through the horizon, bringing light across Fuyuki's cityscape, I sat on the porch while Sakura stood behind me, comb in hand. She brushed my lengthy hair, her touch gentle yet firm before tying the lower half into a fine braid, leaving the top and sides of my face to be covered with locks that lifted at the end fringes.

"It's done," the girl with lavender hair announced with a warm smile, setting the brush down. After Zouken's departure, her troubled mind had been alleviated, replaced by an iron-clad spirit that conveyed yearning and expectation when directed at the auburn-haired boy.

"Thank you, Sakura." I turned around, giving the young girl a hug to which she eagerly responded in kind.

She and I talked for a little bit, enjoying each another's presence, before separating soon after to do our own thing. She headed to the kitchen in order to prepare breakfast, including Taiga's who would without a doubt appear as she always did, while I quietly made my way to the smithy out back to clean it up.

As I dropped a container filled with metal bars in a corner, a System notification appeared in front of me.

[A new Quest is available]

"Hm?" I hummed, brows arcing upward. To be frank, the 'Quest' timer at the very bottom of the System's head-up display had largely left me considering the fact that it had barely anything to do with my everyday life, only being relevant once 5 years had passed—which was now. It's pretty crazy to think that so many years had passed.

My lips thinned. The years I've spent in this reality had been short, a measly 5 years of my newly attained youth, yet it was more laborious than the last, but at the same time even more rewarding. Long have I accepted my circumstances (abrupt reincarnation), but that doesn't diminish the absurdity of it all. If not for the System's presence giving me a sense of safety, my state of mind would've deteriorated the longer time dragged on due to the untold dangers that this world had in store.

Shaking my head, my attention went back to the notification. "What's this supposed to do?" I asked myself while opening the System's interface, only to be left confused upon reading its contents.

[Quest: Assist Ruler and destroy the Greater Grail]

[You may return once you complete the Quest]

"What—" Before my mind could fully process the information, an invisible hand pulled upon my very being and threw me into a space of utter darkness, stealing my sight. Panicked, I twist and turn, but failed to properly orient myself as each direction felt all the same, yet foreign at the same time.

Just as abruptly, I was spat back out into the mortal plane with the subtlety of a typhoon passing through the streets of Miami. A loud boom traveled across the land as I crashed back first into the earthen ground, sending dirt into the sky and forcing a groan of pain to escape my lips.

'Damn that hurt,' I winced at the pain surging across my body. The fall must have been pretty high for it to actually cause me some amount of injury.

I left my recovery in Avalon's hands and swiftly shot to my feet, eyes bouncing to and fro, scanning the area for any signs of danger. Finding nothing amiss, the breath I was unconsciously holding got released, calmness washing over me.

"Where in Mother Earth's ample bossom am I?" Looking around, I had somehow crash landed beside an expressway in the middle of an open vista. It was undoubtedly the System that took me here, as for the reason? Probably something to do with the 'Quest' I just received.

Out of the blue, a dense pocket of magical energy appeared in the distance, making me to turn my head. Having nothing else to do, I bent my legs and rushed to the direction of the disturbance until a pair of blurry figures on the road came into view. With the help of Reinforcement, my eyes gained a new level of clarity, allowing me to determine their forms.

Stood atop a road sign is a man with a ghostly complexion and unkempt hair of equal colour. His form-fitting clothes were pitch black with an open front, exposing the rubellite gem planted on his chest. His legs were covered in blinding armour and two golden constructs reminiscent of an eye hovered over his shoulders, and a red cape draped over his form like clouds during a storm. A spear longer than he is tall was firmly in his grasp, its tip pointed at the ground.

He radiated a hint of divine as he stared at the sole person below whom returned with a glare that matched his. Standing on the road was a beautiful woman wearing a battle-dress with hair bright as wheat that's weaved not too dissimilarly to mine. Chains wrapped around her chest, accentuating her bust, donned a pair of silver gauntlets that covered her hands, and some form of hair ornament was placed on her head.

Out of habit, I examined the slender rapier on the young woman's waist, replicating the weapon inside Unlimited Blade Works in the blink of an eye, before moving to the pale man's spear. As my eyes studied its sleek surface, an intangible power started assaulting my head from all sides, as if beating it with hammers, forcing me to halt my analysis, not before determining the pole-arm's name however, causing my eyes to widen.

My mind jolted, immediately discerning their identities. The one above was of Hindu origin—a demigod named Karna. While the blonde was none other than the Saint of Orleans—Jeanne d'Arc. Two existences thwt shouldn't even be here, yet they were. There was only one reason for their presence here; they were both Servants - heroes of long past - brought forth by a magical artefact known as the Holy Grail to participate in a bloody conflict between two factions—Red and Black.

'Am I in Fate Apocrypha?' From what I could recall, Apocrypha was another version or timeline of Fate, but my knowledge of the show were blurry at best.

I never knew the System had the power to travel across dimensions, I thought it only allowed me to level up and gain Skills. Admittedly, I was worried about my world. What if Sakura came searching for me in the shed after she's finished cooking, only to find me missing? I hope to God nothing bad happens to her while I'm away.

"I'll be back soon." Thankfully, the objective only required me to aid Jeanne d'Arc, also known as the Ruler-class Servant, and destroy the source of this conflict, the Greater Grail, not to fight the Servants themselves. With my current strength, I would no doubt shatter like glass the moment I engage with any of them.

Though I might not tussle with them, a wave of nervousness still persisted within me. To alleviate this feeling, I decided that now was the time to allocate my stat points in the small chance that I do confront a Servant in the coming future.

———

-Shirou Emiya-

Title(s):
-Expand-

Level: 20

STR: 20
VIT: 61
AGI: 24
MAG: 31
Points: 0

Reality Marble:
Unlimited Blade Works.

Skills:
-Expand-

Quest:
[Assist Ruler and destroy the Greater Grail]

———

I had forgone adding anything to Vitality because Avalon already had that department under control, and placed the majority of my spare points into Magic. Albiet narrow in selection, magecraft was where most of my strength lay.

A wave of vigour ran across my whole body, signifying my sudden increase in strength. I shook the odd feeling off, already attuned with the change thanks to the System's machinations, and closed the interface. With this, my rate of survival should've increased, even by a minute amount. Back to the pair, they began to talk to one another, but due to the immense distance between us my ears failed to capture anything. Using Reinforcement, my hearing received a large boost, allowing it to capture their voices.

"I shall end this with a single strike," the demigod spoke, his voice resolute as he decided his next actions, causing the ends of my hair to stand. Now's not the time to dawdle, I can't have Ruler die on me just yet. I didn't even know what completing this Quest entails, but I hope it wouldn't be anything detrimental.

"Trace on." With a flicker of mana, a large, custom-made bow accompanied by a steel sword appeared within my grasps. Using Alteration, the blade's shape changed, stretching into a more aerodynamic form before being notched into the bow like a normal arrow would.

The Lancer of Red, Karna, heaved the spear in his hand, directing it to the Saint of Orleans, prompting her to summon a regal war banner in her hands, then assumed a defensive stance. Suddenly, the spearman released a torrent of magical energy, causing the winds itself to whip around erratically.

Taking aim with my back stuck straight, the bow's shape bent into a "C" as I pulled the sturdy string back with all my strength. Upon release, the sword-turned-projectile surged through the sky at an unbelievable speed and reached their position in a span of a second. Archery was another skill I've been learning vigorously throughout the years in tandem with blacksmithing.

To his credit, Karna immediately noticed the disturbance in the air and calmly turned his head to the side out of instinct, evading the speeding sword by a finger's length. The demigod raised his head, eyes sharpening, and traced the trajectory of the 'arrow', instantly discerning my location.

"Best I could do is distract him," I whisper, not at all disheartened by the missed shot. That didn't really come as a surprise, there was no way a being of his strength could be taken down by a mere steel sword, the best it could do was annoy him. At the very least, it did stop him from releasing his most powerful strike upon Jeanne.

Perhaps if I possessed a Noble Phantasm - a Servant's weapon or ability - it would be possible to land a scratch on him. I could try Projecting Ruler's banner since my Reality Marble had already made a copy of it, but it wouldn't do much as a weapon because it was, at its core, a Noble Phantasm meant to protect. The demigod's spear on the other hand was impossible for me to replicate due to its nature as a Divine Construct— armaments made by gods or some other powerful being. That was the reason my Structural Analysis failed earlier, my mind literally could not fathom how it was made for it was not created for mortal hands to wield.

"Where the hell are you, Saber?" I sifted through the vague memories I had of the original show. The Saber of Black should have already arrived at this point in time to ward off Karna from approaching Ruler, yet not a lick of his presence could be found anywhere in the area.

Lancer of Red brandished his weapon, eyes trained on the Saint while remaining vigilant of the archer. The gap between the Servants and the shooter was a little under a kilometer and a half, a testament to the archer's skills, but it also gave Karna time to detect and avoid any incoming attacks. Even if they somehow actually hit him, the oddly shaped arrows wouldn't be able to penetrate his golden armour, but it was better to stay conscious of all parties involved in a fight lest you get caught by something unexpected.

Seeing him resume his attempts at Ruler's life, I prepare another sword and took a shot, which was followed by another in quick succession. As their duel raged on, Lancer increased his efforts to eliminate the other Servant by exerting more strength into his blows and moved at such speeds that my eyes failed to follow him even with the help of my boosted stats and Reinforcement.

"This isn't working," I grumbled in frustration at my inability to track their movements, then chanted, "Time alter—triple accel." With the spell in effect, they became visible once again, and I rained steel upon the spearman in hopes of giving him pause. But it was all for naught as he made light of my attempts and continued pursuing the Saint.

His agility and dexterity proved too much for my projectiles to realistically hit, and predicting his next move was an even more arduous task. So, I resorted to simply bombarding the general area he was in, making sure to avoid harming Jeanne.

The ground shook and the winds howled as the demigod threw swings that easily tore through the earth as if it were the surface of water at Ruler, who blocked or redirected the attacks with extreme finesse, yet refused to counter with a strike of her own and merely defended herself.

Through a combination of skill and luck on Shirou's part, a steel arrow managed to make contact with Lancer's shoulder, giving him the feeling of being poked. He was about to ignore it when the tap morphed into a light squeeze—not life-threatening nor painful, but alarming in itself.

'It went through my armor?' the demigod questioned, taking a glance at his shoulder. His golden armor should have prevented harm from being inflicted upon him, yet something did? 'No… it did not. The blade was aimed at something else, something from within me—my soul,' his eyes narrowed slightly at the discovery. While the effects were marginal at best, it was never a good idea to dismiss anyone who could harm one's inner self during a battle. He threw a glance in the shooter's direction, paying close attention to the incoming shower of swords, each containing the ability to strike one's soul.

I continued to shoot the Servant of red, my arm slowly turning numb, but I pushed through and loaded more bladed weapons into my bow, firing at the demigod, who seemed to have given me more attention than before.

At the edge of my vision, a dark car could be seen barreling through the empty road. Inside the backseat was a fat man who I could only assume to be the Master, or summoner, of Saber of Black—Gordes Musik Yggdmillenia.

A tinge of confusion crossed my face, where was his Servant? I couldn't detect the famed swordsman anywhere near the vehicle. My internal question was answered in the form of a dark blur that fell from above, landing between Karna and Jeanne in an explosion of dust and dirt, forcing the former to disengage to take stock of the situation.

'Well that answers that.' I lowered my arms, stretching my aching shoulders. It seemed that the man of the hour was only a little late, that's all.

The swirling smokescreen gradually cleared to reveal a man of impressive stature with tanned skin and unruly muted hair, pauldrons strapped on each shoulder, and a greatsword that released an oppressive aura firmly held in his hands. Much like Karna, the front of his clothes was bare, revealing strange intricate symbols that effused a subtle glow etched on his center.

"Release," I breathed out in relief as the Emiya Crest's time manipulation left my body, then dismissed the black bow. With the swordsman's intervention, the chances of Ruler dying had lowered drastically.

Massaging my arm, I observed the battle occurring in the distance with a keen eye. Ruler had taken a step back, retreating from the fight, letting the swordsman and spearman to be interlocked in a clash, a deadly dance between two masters in the art of combat, which wrought nothing but pure destruction throughout the surroundings. One fought to dispose of the war's overseer, Ruler, while the other prevented them from succeeding.

'Holy hell.' Seeing their display of strength that far outstripped mine, I unconsciously bit my lower lip. Once again, I thanked the System for tasking me with simply destroying the Greater Grail instead of directly fighting Servants, because there was no way in Mother Earth's great ass am I going to stand a chance against them.

Gordes Musik Yggdmillenia initiated a conversation with Ruler, pleading for her to join Saber's assault on the spearman but she refused, stating firmly that the past grievances between her and Lancer were wholly different.

"But he tried to kill you!" Gordes reasoned, desperation evident in his voice. Jeanne replied calmly, emphasizing that she will not provide any help to both factions.

Unable to convince her, Gordes faced my general direction and shouted into the open horizon, his voice full of pride and hostility, "A battle between magi it is. I am Gordes Musik Yggdmillenia! Cease with these cowardly acts at once and reveal yourself, Master of Lancer! We shall settle this one-on-one as magi!"

Hearing his challenge, I raised my brows. Did he seriously think I was the Master of Lancer? Had he not seen me attacking the demigod prior to this, or did he think those shots were meant for Ruler? It seems he only saw my projectiles, not its target. Either way, I chose not to respond, ignoring the buffoon's ramblings about magi's pride and stayed low, just out of sight.

In the heat of battle, Karna's actual Master ordered a retreat, forcing the demigod to concede, vanishing into a smoke of mana particles. After the fact, Ruler approached the swordsman of Black. "That was a magnificent battle," she said, acknowledging his prowess. "As expected of Allemagne's greatest hero."

Gordes froze on the spot upon realizing that Ruler knew his Servant's identity. 'So she really does know,' he thought, feeling a bead of sweat rolling down his face. He had hidden Saber's True Name even from his own companions, fearing they might exploit his Servant's greatest weakness. The dragon slayer, Siegfried, his Servant, was famous for not only having slain the evil dragon Fafnir, but also for his one and only frailty that ultimately lead to his demise—the leaf that clung on his back, preventing that spot from being dosed with Fafnir's blood when he bathed in it.

Steeling his nerves and pushing through his worries, Gordes made one last attempt to recruit Ruler to his side, only to be rejected in the same tone as before. Grudgingly accepting her answer, he left the scene with Saber in tow, driving back to his faction's base.

The blonde remained, surveying the aftermath of the battle. "The first clash of the war," she whispered to herself. This was the first of many battles to come and possibly one of the least destructive of them all. As an overseer of the conflict, she was tasked with ensuring that the participating parties adhered to the rules and boundaries of the war, ensuring the safety of those ignorant of the magical.

I observed as Jeanne dematerialized her battle armor, revealing an ordinary set of clothes that wrapped around her curvaceous figure. She wore a collared halter top that exposed the majority of her back, showing the visage of wings in red, shorts that swaddled her well developed bottom, and a pair of thigh highs that concealed her slender legs from the elements.

"Shouldn't she be cold?" was my first thought. After all, having been summoned into the body of a French girl named Laeticia, Jeanne had a form made of flesh and blood and not magical energy like a typical Servant. With the early hour and the cold morning breeze, it seemed likely that the weather would affect her, as she was essentially a human being.

She released a slow breath, creating a veil of white mist that swiftly dissipated into the air, before heading towards the cityscape in the distance, while I trailed shortly behind with a jolly grin on my face.

As to why? Deep within the barren landscape of my Reality Marble, Unlimited Blade Works, a familiar sword with a gem embedded on it could be seen planted into the ground, its hilt reaching into the cloudless sky.

I had successfully obtained my first offensive Noble Phantasm—Balmung, Siegfried's dragon slaying sword.



As Jeanne entered the outskirts of Trifas, Romania, she slipped into a secluded aisle, away from prying eyes, and turned back in the direction she had just come from.

"Show yourself," she commanded, her voice echoing across the quiet passageway. "Know that I am the overseer of this war. If you intend of inflicting harm upon me, punishment will swiftly follow," she announced, hoping to dissuade her stalker from attempting anything similar to what Lancer of Red had done.

Shortly after the first confrontation between the two factions, her senses alerted her to an unknown pursuer, but an invisible curtain shrouded them, making it extra difficult to determine their position.

Fortunately, it appeared that her stalker was more reasonable than Jeanne thought, as a young man with a frame and features awfully similar to hers answered the call, coming into view from around the corner with his hands held high to show his intentions.

His hair shimmered like the crimson glow of a setting sun, wore casual clothes and exuded an affectionate atmosphere that surprised her. The uncanny resemblance between them somewhat threw her off, and if not for the difference in hair colour, Jeanne would've thought she was staring at her reflection.

Jeanne's face betrayed a confused look as she scrutinized the man. She had initially thought it was the Servant of assassination, aptly named Assassin, using their skill [Presence Concealment], but the young man was anything but a being of mana; his entire essence was that of a human's. She remained completely oblivious to the fact that he does, indeed, possess the skill.

"You are?" she asked softly, her eyes refusing to leave his figure as she ogled at the familiar warmth swirling around him, reminiscent of the war banner she wielded in the name of the Lord.

"Shirou Emiya, pleasure to meet you. Now, I'm here with peaceful intentions in mind, nothing nefarious, I promise you." The young man lowered his arms and folded himself at the waist, showing his respect. Shirou wasn't all that surprised that his attempt to follow her quietly ended in failure, so he forgone stealth and revealed himself.

"Were you sent by the faction of black, perhaps?" she guessed. "I'm afraid my answer remains the same; my duty demands impartiality. Should that be your purpose here, turn back now." Jeanne contemplated turning around and walking away if that were the case, but the boy's next words cleared that thought.

"Ah, no-no. I am not here because of them, nor am I from the other colour." He shook his head, denying any kind of involvement with the red or black factions. It was best to clear the air now than have her think Shirou had some sort of ulterior motive.

"I'm here on my—" Before he could finish the sentence, however, a burst of radiance, equal in brightness, broke free from within their chests, showering the tranquil street in a holy shine and giving them a spook. For a fleeting moment, a divine spark of connection bridged their inner selves, intertwining them into a dance of understanding and empathy. In other words, it was a comforting walk, hand in hand, into each other's soul.

The light show gradually receded before vanishing altogether, followed by a period of silence. He and Jeanne kept their lips sealed for a while until the former decided to speak.

"That… what was that?" the young man started, voicing out his confusion.

On the other hand, the blonde quickly recovered from her befuddled state, finally realizing what the familiar presence around his form was and why she felt drawn to it. Jeanne lifted her head, her lilac eyes locking into his amber ones.

"You've been blessed by the Lord's light. You're a Saint, are you not?" Her words carried a sense of disbelief mixed with admiration upon finding out his status. She would've never guessed a Saint, one directly graced by God, could even be born during this era, a time when the Church's influence was on a steep decline.

"I am?" Shirou's reply came out more like a question than an answer since he couldn't exactly deny nor confirm the claim. To his knowledge, the Church has never canonized him as a Saint, but the System technically did by giving him the title, which resonated with Jeanne's own moments prior.

The boy's brows furrowed slightly as a bit of suspicion arose in his mind, questioning the System's origins. Was it God, with a capital G, who bestowed the System onto him? It would explain a tiny bit on why it rewarded him on every small acts of kindness he did, but he didn't want to jump to conclusions. Though he could not dismiss the idea, so he filed it to the back of his mind for later.

"Was it the Holy Church that sent you here?" she inquired, her cold demeanor softening into one of curiosity.

The redhead shook his head at her question. "Nope. Pretty sure I've only met a representative of the Church like, twice in my life. I am not affiliated with any organization or group of some kind, I came here on my own." He wanted to add that he was forced to be here, but that would contradict his earlier statement of being an independent party.

"And before you say anything about me being a Saint, I never claimed to be or view myself as one," he clarified, waving his hand dismissively. "And I most definitely did not plan to be one, it kinda just happened one night. I'm only here to offer you my help during this conflict, if you wouldn't mind, of course."

Warmth filled Jeanne's eyes upon hearing his words, her lips curling into a bright smile. It seems God's light had blessed a rather humble and honest one. The Saint of Orleans relaxed her posture, placing one hand over her chest as she spoke in a welcoming tone.

"I see. I'll gladly accept your offer," she said with a small head tilt. "I am Jeanne d'Arc. I look forward to working with you, sir Emiya."

"Just Shirou is fine. No need for pleasantries," he insisted. "And aren't you trusting me pretty quickly? What if I was lying? You shouldn't believe everything a stranger says," the young man advised.

"The light of the Lord does not lie," Jeanne replied, her voice filled with conviction. "Our meeting must be His will in action."

"Well, not too sure about that, but I'll do my best," Shirou said, extending his hand. Jeanne gently shook it, solidifying their alliance. He then moved his sight from her lustrous eyes to her attire with a look that she could only assume to be quizzical.

"Is something wrong?" the Saint asked, noting his gaze. Typically, she might feel a twinge of discomfort under someone's prolonged stare, but in his eyes, she detected no hint of malice. Coupled with the presence of God's light emanating from him, she felt no need to be wary of his attentiveness.

"I've been wanting to ask, what's up with your clothes?" He made a gesture, bringing attention to her wear. "Your top barely covers you and those are basically booty-shorts you have there. I mean, it's nice to look at and all, but are you fine walking around like that? As a Saintess no less?"

"I," she stammered, cheeks turning cherry pink at his sincere comment, "I can't help it, my luggage got l-lost at the airport."

Summoned in France and needing to catch a flight to Romania, where the Holy Grail War commenced, she found herself disembarking with nothing but the stuff on her person after her possessions were lost at the baggage claim section, somehow. To add to her predicament, her stomach suddenly growled loudly in the middle of her words, adding to her embarrassment.

The French girl felt the need to explain as imaginary steam vented off her head. "You see, my vessel requires sustenance to properly function unlike a regular Servant." She went on to expand, saying that she was currently borrowing the body of a young girl named Laeticia to be here, hench her need for food.

"Uh… not sure if this is the right time to tell you this." The redhead uttered, forcing a smile on his face. "I'm gonna be completely honest with you, I don't have money on me right now. I may or may not have forgotten it before coming here," he confessed. Unfortunately for Shirou, he had left his wallet back at home before his abrupt abduction, leaving him with nothing to spend.

"Leaving to travel without taking your wallet? That's quite irresponsible," Jeanne chided the red-haired boy. Unlike him, Jeanne didn't loose hers since she always carried it with her.

"You lost pretty much all of your stuff, yet you call me out for being irresponsible?" he countered with a less than brilliant rebuttal.

"These are two separate matters, that doesn't change anything about your situation!" Jeanne stated firmly. At the very least she couldn't be fully blamed for her problem, but Shirou was entirely at fault for his.

"You know, how about we agree that we were both unlucky?" he tried to deflect her nagging. "I can always get a part-time job somewhere here—I hope." He winced, realizing his current age might be an issue. Would anyone even employ him, a child? He's pretty tall for a twelve-year-old; maybe he could just lie about his age to get a temporary job.

Then again, he could always use Projection to simply spawn money from nothing and pay with those, but he immediately burried that thought as he had a strong feeling the Saintess before him would be heavily against it.

Jeanne relented with a drawn out sigh, swallowing the words that were about to leave her mouth, then offered Shirou to join her for something to eat. And so, the two ill-fated Saints went on their way.



Jeanne and I entered a snug restaurant with a dozen or so customers already inside and went to the table by the windows, sitting across one another.

"Hm?" I let out a hum as Jeanne slid the menu towards me. "Do you already have something in mind?"

"I—um. I'll just have what you h-have," she spoke, her words tripping over themselves.

"Okay?" I reached out, taking the menu off the desk and opened it. I skimmed through the list from top to bottom. It was written in Romanian, but thanks to the System's powers, I've learned many different languages over the years with the same ease as someone learning their mother tongue.

To my dismay, not one of the options had rice on it which made the asian blood in me squirm, so I settled with a simple eggs and bacon combo with a side of fries.

"Is eggs, bacon and fries good?" I asked, to which Jeanne responded with a slight nod. "Alright, I'll be back in a sec." I went to the front of the house and ordered a pair of the dish, then payed using the Saintess' money. My eye twitched for a brief moment upon recalling the fact I was essentially broke at the moment and living off the kindness of another person. I'll make sure to change that as soon as possible.

When I returned to Jeanne's side, waiting for our meal to be prepared, I witnessed her holding the menu with one hand while tracing the words on it with the other, reading each item's name line by line in a thick accent that spoke of her unfamiliarity with the language.

"Are you thinking of getting something else?" I asked, understandably confounded by what she was doing.

"Ah, no. I'm just—" she stopped herself and placed the open menu out front like a shield, preventing me from seeing her face.

"No need to be shy. If you're having any trouble, remember that I'm here to help," I reminded, hoping to alleviate whatever problem she was having.

"Promise me you won't laugh," she peeked over the screen between us and spoke. I gave a positive reply and waited for her answer. "Well, um—it's just that," Jeanne paused, her cheeks turning a shade of red, then quickly sputtered out her next words, "I-don't-know-how-to-read."

"Huh?" Of course, I caught what she said and was left baffled. Servants were supposed to receive a wave of information pertaining things about the modern world and whatnot when they're summoned as to not alienate them, which does include foreign tongues.

Her gaze swiftly switched from my eyes to the table. She appeared to be genuinely struggling with the unfamiliar script it seems.

Had something gone wrong during her summoming? or was it due to her legends portraying Jeanne as a peasant girl—hence her inability to read? A Servant's legend can immensely impact their abilities, after all. The Holy Grail shouldn't have made such a simple mistake, so it could be the latter or something else entirely. The corners of my lips curved a bit upward, finding her predicament a little sad, yet amusing.

"You said you wouldn't laugh!" Jeanne lowered her head once again, hiding behind the menu in embarrassment.

"But I didn't," I coolly denied the accusation being made against me. "But, if you couldn't read, how did you even board a plane, let alone arrive here?" Did she really just wander here all by herself without any idea of where she was going?

"I can still speak Romanian, it helped a lot," she revealed, then placed a hand over her heart. "As to how I made it here, God would lead me where I need to go," she spoke with unbending conviction.

A piece of knowledge flashed across my mind. From what I could recall, Jeanne possessed a skill known as [Revelation], which acted as some sort of guiding hand that always pushed her in the right direction. That would explain it, I suppose.

"Oh, putting Jesus at the wheel, I get it," Jeanne raised her head, narrowing her eyes in a vain attempt to look intimidating, which I found adorable more than anything. "Alright, let me rephrase that. You've placed an immense amount of faith in the Lord." Hearing that, her features gradually softened.

"If you want, I can teach you some simple things you might need," I offered.

"It's fine. I wouldn't want to trouble you with my problems," the Saintess refused.

"Oh, cut it. It's not troublesome at all," I insisted, determined to help her.

After a bit of hesitation, Jeanne accepted my proposal with a thankful smile mixed with a hint of guilt. I waved it off, telling her it wasn't that big of a deal.

Versing her with an entire language might not be possible as it might take months, and the Holy Grail war wouldn't last that long, so common sentences and phrases would have to do as her lessons so she could at least read street signs.

Right on cue, our food arrived and we started eating. While putting a piece of bacon in my mouth, I Instinctively used Structural Analysis on my utensils and copied them inside Unlimited Blade Works' empty fields. It looks pretty silly seeing cutlery stabbed next to the legendary Balmung of all things, but it's going to get even more weirder in just a second.

Out of curiosity, I decided to scan the remaining food as well, not really expecting anything to come out of it—and let me tell you how wrong, very wrong, I was. As invisible mana enveloped the bacon's form, a library of information about it unfolded in my mind, making me freeze as if I had just gazed into Medusa's petrifying eyes.

Somehow, the stupid idea had worked. I was able to see into the foodstuff's past and understand how it was processed and cooked. Unfortunately, the details only went far back as when it was already a packaged good, but it was still a pretty significant discovery.

[Skill 'Structural Analysis' has ranked up to B - 1] A System notification appeared, adding fuel to the fire that was my line of thinking.

"Shirou, are you okay?" Jeanne's voice cuts though my train of thought, snapping me out of my reverie. "You've been staring at your plate for a while now."

"Oh, it's nothing. I just thought of something pretty interesting," I calmly replied to dismiss her worry, then went back to eating as a plethora of things bounced around in my head.

Later that morning, after eating breakfast, Jeanne and I went around town and found an apartment to stay in for the next couple of days until the war reached its conclusion. The place only had a single bedroom, so I settled on the couch while my companion took the bed for herself. She was fine sharing the bed for some reason, but I remained adamant in my decision and got her to agree after a bit of talking.

Currently, I was alone inside the living room as Jeanne had decided to take a shower first. I sat down on the couch and stared intently at my open hand. The discovery that my Structural Analysis skill worked on other inanimate objects that's unrelated to blades had opened up a whole lot of possibilities in my mind.

I pulled my conciousness inward, inducing myself in a state of hypnosis to manipulate the mana lying dormant within me. My mental trigger, an image of two clashing swords that caused a spray of sparks to scatter outward, flashed across my mind.

"Trace on," I recited, followed by the familiar sensation of my magic circuits humming to life. What I am about to do was something not even the original Shirou Emiya had done before.

Mana revolved around my hand, its form ever shifting like flames flickering in the wind, before gradually taking a more solid shape. In the blink of an eye, a magical construct materialized in my hand. Instead of a sword or sharp object, what appeared was something else entirely; a regular looking burger you'd find just about anywhere else.

"Oh, God. I have seen your wisdom and my faith is renewed." I prayed to the Almighty in sheer disbelief of the miracle I just performed.

"Shirou?" a feminine voice suddenly called out from behind. I turned around and saw Jeanne wearing her signature halter top and shorts, now paired with a jacket that she had purchased earlier. Droplets of water could be seen sliding down her dewy sun-dyed hair, indicating that she had just finished taking a bath.

"Where did you get that?" Her eyes shone with interest as she looked at the item in my hand. She doesn't remember him buying it when they came here, and it felt strange in a way she could not put her finger on.

"I think I just solved world hunger—maybe," I declared. Seriously, I could Project organic material now? I didn't even think that was possible. If I were to take a shot in the dark, the System probably had something to do with this.

Hearing my less than helpful answer, the Saintess tilted her head to convey her confusion after making herself comfortable beside me. Reaching out, I gave the piece of burger to her and asked if she could sense anything weird about it—to which she did pretty quickly.

"This is… it's made out of mana?" she blinked in surprise and took a better look at it to make sure she wasn't seeing things. "How did you do this?"

"I don't know, to be honest," I confessed. "I thought my Projection only worked on bladed weapons, but apparently not."

"Projection? Is that not some form of magecraft?" she asked. While Jeanne knew of its existence, she wasn't well versed in the art of thaumaturgy, only having an idea about it. Her old comrade, Gilles de Rais, had told her about it in the past, but the complexities of the craft slipped past her head.

Normally, I would be apprehensive about revealing my cards to someone I just met, but I knew Jeanne was someone who could be trusted with such information, so I gave her a rundown on how my Structural Analysis and Projection ability worked while keeping the System hidden, a detail that would forever remain as one of my most guarded secrets, second only to my reincarnation.

"Fascinating," Jeanne uttered. "But you said your Projections, apart from swords, are only supposed to be in form and not substance, mayhaps this lacks things such as taste and whatnot?" she proposed.

"Maybe," I shrugged, "wanna give it a try?" I fully expected it to just shatter into particles the moment its surface gets damaged like a regular Projection would.

"It wouldn't hurt to try, I suppose." Jeanne moved the burger next to her mouth and took a bite of the magical construct. Chewing, her eyes suddenly widen in astonishment as a myriad of flavour floods her mouth.

"Is it bad?" A frown crossed my lips, thinking of the worst. Maybe it only looked good but had a horrid taste?

"Oh no. Rather, the opposite, actually." The Saintess shook her head at my question and took another mouthful, her face full of delight.

"Wait, really?" I shifted in my seat, interest piqued. From the looks of it, the construct would remain even if a chunk of it got taken off.

"Here, have a try." After swallowing, she gave the foodstuff back for me to try.

Upon taking a bite out of it, a burst of flavour coated my tongue, leaving my mouth slightly ajar. 'Holy mother of God,' I invoked the Lord's name for a second time.

Jeanne then took the hamburger off my grasp and proceeded to eat the whole thing by herself as my thoughts began to sway.

It tasted good, like really good. It was probably created using the knowledge I had on making burgers as I've dabbled on it in the past to help broaden my palate. I've even got into brewing tea and other drinks, which fell under the [Cooking] skill for some reason. Shouldn't beverages be a separate skill entirely? The inner workings of the System continues to confound me to this day.

While I was lost in my own world, Jeanne, after wiping her mouth with a tissue, spoke up while placing a hand under her chin, her expression thoughtful. "It appears to dissipate the moment it reaches my stomach, so it doesn't provide any nutrients. And I can't be sure, but I feel like my mana reserves recovered by a small amount."

"Ah," a sound escapes my lips, "eating it actually does give you a little bit of mana back," I confirmed her suspicion. The burger gradually broke down as it traveled down my throat, returning into its natural state, however, the magical energy used to make it simply assimilated with my own instead of disappearing.

With a thought, I summoned another Projection, this time it was a glass of apple juice, and drank the whole thing in one gulp. From within, the same amount of mana I used to create the liquid reappeared. As expected, the construct only restored the same amount used to manifest it. While not immediately helpful, it could still prove useful—life-saving, even, when conjured prior to an altercation.

I had found a way to quickly recover magical energy without the need for waiting or transference, essentially creating Mana Potions you'd find in every fantasy game. This had to be the greatest discovery I've ever made, and it was on complete accident as well. Why haven't I thought of this? What else could I make? Is it possible for me to make vegetables?

"Um, Shirou?" she softly voiced out, gaining my full attention. "If it isn't too bothersome, do you think you can make another burger? If you wouldn't mind, of course," she asked while tapping her thigh with her finger.

"Looks like someone's hungry," I chuckle, causing Jeanne to look away meekly. "Of course I can, here you go." I summomed another burger and presented it to her.

She seems pretty excited at the prospect of being able to eat a limitless number of food, savour its wonderful taste, without getting a full stomach. I'm plenty eager to try it out as well, but I just hid the desire better.

"Th-thank you," she voiced out with a stutter and took the burger off my hands. The sight of her taking small bites made me smile with how adorable she looked.



3 whole days went by in a flash. A few skirmishes occured here and there, but nothing too drastic that warrants Shirou's attention. Jeanne went out on occasions to observe said skirmishes to enforce her authority, leaving Shirou to watch over their home like a house husband.

Well, even if something did catch his attention, he couldn't do much apart from spectate from a distance and help his housemate relax with a nice meal. Miraculously, he managed to get a part-time job at a nearby cafe and gained a steady stream of money for him to spend, finally free from the shame of leeching off the Saint of Orleans.

At this moment, Jeanne and Shirou were idly lounging in their shared apartment, the latter rummaging through the kitchen in search of ingredients. To his dismay, the cupboards were nearly bare, prompting a sigh to escape his lips.

"Hey, we're out of supplies," Shirou remarked, untying his apron and draping it over the counter. "I'm going out to buy some things. Wanna come with?"

"Sure, I'll join you," Jeanne replied with a smile, eager to accompany her fellow Saint. She couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and delight remembering the amount of delectable food she had consumed over the past few days, which led to their kitchen needing frequent restocking due to her unending appetite.

'It's not my fault,' she reasoned, 'it's Shirou's fault for cooking such delicious meals everyday for me.' Though she complained in her mind, she would never say it out loud, having already fallen prey to Shirou's divine dishes.

After a bit, the two left their home and trekked across the streets of Trifas. Having been acquaintanced with the area days ago, the pair strolled to the marketplace, their pace relaxed. The early morning stillness enveloped the alleys, with only shopkeepers opening their stores breaking the silence.

"Ah, if it isn't Shirou. How are you doing?" an old lady called out as they passed her shop. Shirou greeted her warmly, and Jeanne barely registered it, thinking nothing of it. But similar encounters happened at each store they passed. People waved to Shirou, engaging him in small talk, stunning Jeanne with how well-known he seemed to be.

As he got pulled into conversations with a circle of housewives, Jeanne turned to one of them and asked, "Excuse me, may I ask how you know Shirou?"

The woman answered with a hint of enthusiasm in her voice. "Oh, Shirou's been a great help around town, my daughter has even started learning how to cook from the kid." She took a better look at Jeanne's face, noticing their similarities hers and the redhead's. "Oh my, are you Shirou's sister, perhaps?"

"No, we're just friends." Jeanne chuckled nervously, still unable to wrap her head around their mirroring features. She even entertained the thought of him being a distant relative of hers. "Can you tell me more about what my friend's been up to? I've been pretty busy lately, so we haven't been able to spend much time together." Due to her duties as an overseer, most of her time had been spent out and about, even in mornings when fighting was strictly prohibited in order to punish anyone breaking the rules.

The woman launched into a spree, telling stories of Shirou's kindness and assistance, earning him endearing names from the townsfolk. Jeanne's admiration for Shirou grew as she listened, realizing how much he'd been doing for Trifas in her absence.

Watching Shirou engage with the locals, Jeanne nodded in approval. "As expected of the Lord's chosen. May your kindness continue to bring joy to others," she praised, clasping her hands in a silent prayer. Truly, the work of a Saint.

Before the morning rush even came, they returned to their apartment laden with goods—gifts from grateful locals who appreciated Shirou's help.

"Well, looks like we didn't need to pay for anything at all, that's good," he stiffled a laugh while plopping down the plastic bags filled with ingredients on the table.

"Do you like helping people, Shirou?" Jeanne softly asked, her amethyst eyes gazing into his own.

"To be completely honest with you, not really," he shook his head. But before Jeanne could get a word in, he continued, "But that doesn't mean I won't do it. I don't need a reason to help someone when I can, right? It takes no time and I feel rewarded for doing it." He meant it in a figurative and a literal sense. Despite the fact that helping people doesn't rake in as much experience points as before, he still did it. Without his notice, he gradually grew to like the act of aiding others.

A smile bloomed on Jeanne's face after hearing his full thoughts on the matter. From everything she's heard and seen of him, he was most definitely deserving of the Lord's grace.

The pair then enjoyed breakfast together, relishing each other's company. After the meal, Shirou headed to the bathroom for a shower, while Jeanne lingered in the common room, her gaze sweeping over the apartment. She noticed the changes Shirou had made since they first arrived, transforming the once ordinary space into a cozy haven.

Impressed by Shirou's skill with household tasks and his popularity in the community, Jeanne couldn't help but think of him as the perfect housewife. As she rose from her seat, she decided to enter in the bathroom, where the sound of running water indicated Shirou's presence. She tossed some extra clothes into the washing machine and neatly folded the dried ones, storing them, before turning her attention to Shirou as he emerged from the shower, towel in hand.

"Jeanne?" Shirou's surprised voice echoed through the bathroom as he stepped out.

"Ah, Shirou, I was just..." Jeanne's voice faltered as she caught sight of his naked form, her cheeks flushing crimson. She quickly averted her gaze, feeling as if steam were rising from her head. "Wha-w-wha—pardon me!" With a hurried excuse, she darted out of the room, leaving Shirou abandoned in utter bewilderment.

Later, after Shirou dressed, they sat across from each another. Jeanne fidgeted nervously while her companion wore an unreadable expression.

"Hang on a minute," Shirou sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You thought I was a girl this whole time? But we've spent the last few days together, no?"

Jeanne, unable to meet his gaze, trembled before responding, "Um, y-yes. It's just that you really look like a girl, and the way you do things around the house reminds me of my momma a lot. I just assumed you just preferred to dress as a man… um—I'm sorry," the Saintess lowered her head in shame. She finally understood why he was weirded out when she offered to share the bed with him on their first day together.

Shirou's eyes twitched momentarily, a feeling of something crumbling within him arose before he composed himself. "I mean, guys can cook too," he sighed again. But then, Shirou thought, his appearance and hobbies certainly didn't help him appear masculine; rather, quite the opposite. 'Damn Saber-face title,' he cursed inwardly. 'And why do I feel like this wouldn't be a one time thing?'

"You know what, let's just forget about it. There's no harm done." Like the sane-minded person that he is, Shirou chose to drop this incident and move on. Was he embarrassed of this little incident? A bit, yeah. But no one was at fault for what happened.

"Uhm, okay. Again, I'm really sorry," she repeated. A shade of pink tinted her face as a brief image of Shirou's figure flashed across her head.

"Stop that, no need to apologize. It was an accident—a pretty stupid one, but still an accident." He then stood up from his seat and caressed the top of Jeanne's head, his motions slow and tender. The sudden touch briefly startled the Saintess, but the soothing atmosphere that surrounded him halted her from making a move.

[Skill 'Head pat' has leveled up to E - 2] A familiar screen popped up before me, which I hastily dismissed in slight annoyance.

END.

Author's notes: I'll tell you this right now, this small interlude won't contain much fight scenes.
 
Great chapter! Head pats, cooking, kind. Shirou is really the strongest being in the Universe. Is Jack the ripper from that Fate? Is so, I hope Shirou can give the poor child some head pats.

Also, I think that helping people because he can, and not because he likes to, even if the system rewards him for it, it's the true mark of a Saint. Well, the holy power helps too, but that secondary.

Is the multiversal vampire involved in all of this? It would be pretty fun, honestly. Maybe, since he traveled dimensions, now he's on his radar?
 
...Heh. Don't worry Shirou, you're right at home with Astolfo. Masculinity? Who needs that?! Just take the compliment for what it is.

Though poor Sieg, it looks like Shirou has well and truly cucked him... And suddenly Sakura feels the urge to kill every blonde in the world.
 
So this confirms that Shirou truly looks like a red-headed Artoria. This makes me wonder how's that gonna feel for the people who saw Artoria in the previous war lol

I'll admit, however, that I was imagining Shirou like a ginger Arthur Prototype or Bedivere— but it looks like he's straight up just a re-skinned Artoria haha
 
Thanks for the chapters!

It's a great fic, I really hope to see Shirou focusing more on the sacred arts since it's very rare to find a fate fic that uses them. It will be incredible if he summons someone who can teach him Jacob Limbs. Shirou could summon Martha due to being a Saint and lend Avalon to Sakura to summon Saber.

I would also like to see him reach absurd levels of swordsmanship like Musashi and Sasaki Kojiro. With his Debuff it really doesn't make sense for Shirou to waste time on Magecraft beyond the basics and some other things that would be especially useful like runes for crafting. Shirou is already immortal due to Avalon, so he doesn't need to focus on Magecraft for this, although even if he weren't he would have a better chance of achieving immortality as a Saint.


Malevolent is basically the opposite of what holy power should be unless Shirou is a corrupted saint, but if that were the case the church would be trying to kill him instead of worshiping him.

I followed him back and arrived in my room to begin my own magecraft training. My concentration level reached a new height as I pulled upon the space know as Unlimited Blade Works located inside my soulscape. The reason for how it remained eludes me, as from what I could remember, it was Shirou Emiya's distorted way of thinking that spawned his Reality Marble—the physical manifestation of one's inner self. I was under no delusions in the first place, so perhaps the System had something to do with it.

Hate to be that guy, but UBW isn't a result of Shirou's "distorted mind"(he's not really inhuman either, just needs therapy), it's a result of his origin and element both being sword.

Yes, if it were as simple as a distorted mentality we would have dozens of Magus creating their descendants or using self-hypnosis to have a Reality Marble since it is something infinitely close to true magic and consequently very close to a path to the Root.

A click resounded around the room as the case opened to reveal a collection of seemingly regular bullets painted in brass. They were anything but ordinary, of course. Every single one of them was an Origin bullet made from Kiritsugu's own lower ribs. Apart from me, not a single soul on this planet knew of its true power—as everyone who've seen it had perished. There was originally 66 pieces, but 37 had already been used by the Magus Killer in the past; each bullet having successfully killed their intended target.

He can use the remaining bullets as material to forge a sword or dagger as eventually firearms will become useless to
 
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"Oh my, are you Shirou's sister, perhaps?"

"No, we're just friends." Jeanne chuckled nervously
I'd say this warrants a dose of big sis beam.

I'd like to see Mordred getting annoyed because shirou has Avalon and looks like a red haired version of her father. Btw, wasn't original Arthur a redhead?
 
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Glad to see an update again. I really like this fic.

I'd like to propose an idea I've for working around Shirou's inability to project divine constructs(he originally could, at the cost of his life, but nasu retconned that shit to the grave).

Anyways, my idea; breathing and walking. In the nasuverse, breathing and walking is a technique in which, by breathing and walking properly, one can channel the planet's energy, their body acting as a single, giant magic circuit.

This even allows one to use divine mysteries. Like how a shinto priest can banish malignant spirits by just clapping his hands.

My idea is, if Shirou learns breathing and walking, he could mix this divinity with UBW, allowing him to trace divine constructs.

Ps: I'd like to point out that, while Shirou can't project divine constructs, he can analyze them. The headache and static thing is exclusive to Ea, which can't be traced because it actually refuses to be understood/wielded by anybody other than Gilgamesh.
 
9: House husband Emiya.
Chapter 9: First Quest (2/3) - House husband Emiya.

As I placed a clean set of plates back in the cupboards, Jeanne idled in the living room watching the television.

"Due to the recent string of murders, officials has warned the people that a possible serial killer might be on the loose. Make sure to lock your doors at night and call the police if you find any suspicious individuals roaming the streets," the news broadcaster warned.

This caught my attention. From what I could remember, the Assassin of Black was the source behind this killing spree as their current Master, a civilian with no ties to the supernatural until now, provided them with little to no magical energy, forcing the Servant to find an alternative to gather enough energy in order to stay afloat—by eating hearts.

"No doubt the work of a Servant," Jeanne quickly concluded.

"What makes you think that?" I asked while exiting the kitchen area.

"Their hearts were thoroughly gouged out and was never found," she pointed out. "Either this killer has a liking to collecting them, or they're using it to recover magical energy. And, might I add, I've yet to actually meet the the Assassin of Black. Everything points towards that conclusion," she waved her hand as if to underline the statement.

"Looks like we have a new Sherlock Holmes in the making," I pat the Saintess' head as I sat down next to her. "So, are you going to do anything about it?" In the corner of my eye, I saw the progress bar for the 'Head pat' skill increase by a large amount with this one action alone.

Briskly recovering from Shirou's show of affection, she speaks, "Y-yes. As the supervisor of this conflict, I must ensure the safety of those unrelated to it and enact punishment to those who discards the agreed upon rules."

"May I join you?" I asked, hoping to stretch my legs for a bit—and maybe gain another Noble Phantasm while I was at it. After the first two Noble Phantasms, I haven't been able to acquire new ones much to my chagrin.

"I appreciate it, but there is no need to put yourself in danger to accompany me, Shirou," she turned down my request out of concern for my wellbeing.

"Don't worry about me, I can handle myself just fine," I spoke with confidence, hoping to ease her concern.

"If you insist. Just promise to get behind me if things goes awry, alright?" she put forth her conditions. Truth be told, Jeanne wouldn't mind his company, but the inherent danger that came with her job prevented her letting him join. She felt a little bad about leaving him alone most of the time, so she'd make an exception this one time.

"Well, not that I plan on entering combat with Servants, so I'm fine with that." Some people might view me as a coward for hiding behind her, but what else am I supposed to do? Jeanne surpasses me in every category—except literacy, that is. Even with my level of physical prowess, my chances of winning against literal figures of legends was slim to none. Best I could do was flee and not hinder the Saintess.

"Alright, we'll head out in just a moment," Jeanne announced.

A little while later, we emerged from our cozy abode and set off for Bucharest, where the Assassin of Black was alleged to be hiding. However, just because we knew the city they were wreaking havoc in didn't mean we knew their exact location. For all we knew, the Master and Servant pair could be taking shelter inside the Embassy in extreme luxury. Of course, I knew that wasn't the case, but it didn't dismiss the fact that I still had no idea where they were.

We searched around the place for some time, circling blocks after blocks, traversing through the bustling streets, and even investigated some homes, only to find crumb trails that lead nowhere as if they had fully expected someone to follow them.

Suddenly, in a flash of inspiration, a lightbulb turned on inside my head as Jeanne and I entered an empty alleyway.

"Jeanne, let me ask you, do you trust me?" I broke the silence between us.

"Yes? Why wouldn't I?" she tilted her head in an adorable manner. Her trust in him had already reached its highest, she had no reason to doubt him now.

"Turn around for a second," I made a spinning motion with my hand. "Don't freak out of what I'm about to do next, alright?"

"Okay?" Though a little confused, she still followed my instructions and showed me her back.

In my hand, a white blindfold outlined with golden patterns appeared in a shimmer of light, it's design reminiscent of Jeanne's banner. Why? I liked it that way. Then, I gracefully wrapped it around her eyes, depriving the Saintess of her ability to see.

"Um, Shirou? What is this?" She wasn't alarmed in the slightest and simply reached out in my direction, as if searching for something. I grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"A blindfold," I delivered in the most bland tone I could muster. "You said God would guide you to where you need to be, right? Then think of finding the Assassin of Black and their Master then follow your instincts."

"I don't think that's how it works," she stated. "B-but why does limiting my perception or range of motion seem to increase its effects?" she said under her breath. Of course, I heard it just fine.

"Should I restrict your arms as well?" I suggested in a teasing voice. "My, I didn't think you'd have that kind of hobby. Should I start calling you the Saint of Bondage? Big G up there sure has some taste in picking his people."

"W-what? How did you even come to that conclusion! And don't call the Lord that!" she eked out, her face doing its best impression of a tomato. "And we're in a public setting, Shirou. Please be mindful of your a-actions," she tried her best to sound stern, but her voice quivered at the end.

"Does that mean you're fine doing this in private?" I returned, prompting Jeanne to strengthen her grip on my hand as if to reprimand me. "Okay-okay, I'll stop. On a serious note, can you feel anything different at all? Maybe a tug or pull?"

"I can feel the 'pull', as you call it, a little bit better. Its coming from that way, but I'm not too sure." She turned, facing a seemingly random direction. "Can you take this off now? Its quite e-embarrassing to be seen like this," she timidly voiced out.

"It's pretty clear that it works, so keep it on for now," I replied. "Don't worry, I'll hold your hand and help you walk, just go in the direction of where you think the Assassin of Black is."

"O-okay." Jeanne shuffled forward while holding my hand for comfort. She almost bumped into some poles, but I made sure that didn't happen and ensured that she didn't trip on herself.

After some time, her hunch lead us to a weathered building at the outskirts of the slums. The structure reeked of old age and seamlessly blended with its surroundings.

"You sure it's here?" I asked while scanning the whole building with Structural Analysis out of curiosity. A proverbial frying pan slammed into my head at full force due to the sheer amount of information being crammed in my head, forcing me to deactivate the skill. 'That was pretty stupid of me,' I scolded myself internally, wincing at the headache.

"Yes," she nodded. "Can you please take this off now?" I adhered to her pleas and made the regal blindfold covering her sight to vanish into motes of mana.

Suddenly, a sense of foreboding ran across my being, causing the ends of my hair to stand in fright. My intuition was proven correct as not a second later, a wall of dense fog rolled in, blocking us from all sides. Looking closer, the phenomenon was undoubtedly of magical origin.

A blurry frame made its appearance from within the fog, its form gradually becoming shaper as it got closer to our position.

"Shirou, get behind me!" Jeanne shouted in alarm. I complied, taking cover behind her as we faced the approaching figure—the Assassin of Black, also known as Jack the Ripper.

She was a little girl with yellow eyes and short hair as white as snow, clad in a provocative outfit consisting of a black vest, matching panties, and a pair of dark stockings. Knives in various forms were strapped to her rear, each emitting a vicious aura. Of course, my Reality Marble made copies of these blades the instant they came into view.

"Hey! Are you here to play with us?" Assassin's youthful voice echoed from all sides, as if multiple children were talking at once. "Come on, let's play!" the choir of voices cheered as Assassin melded into the fog.

A near-silent whistle reached my ears from the back, instantly heightening my senses. Before I could summon a sword for defense, Jeanne, now clad in her battle-dress, sprang into action and deflected the incoming projectile—a butcher knife—with her flag, producing a loud clang that echoed throughout the area.

"Assassin of Black," Jeanne called out, her voice filled with authority. "I am Ruler. Cease your actions this instant, or I will be forced to use a Command Seal to stop you." The pair of wings engraved on her back radiated a subtle glow as she spoke. A Command Seal is a powerful tool a Master holds, allowing them to give absolute orders to their Servants for a total of 3 times. Jeanne, as the Ruler-class Servant, naturally had them to enforce the rules of the war.

As the white-haired assassin prepared to pounce forward with a flurry of knives, her movements came to an abrupt halt.

"Mommy?" The little girl spoke as a single entity, her confusion obvious. If not for the menacing air that surrounded her, I would've found it cute. She was likely communicating with her Master using their mental link. She turned, directing her attention at us, "Okay! Mommy said she'll have a chat with you. But if you hurt her, we will cut open your stomach, okay?" Jack's voice was filled with joy tinged with hidden malice.

With a mental push from Jack, the haze that shrouded the alley slowly dissipated. She hopped on her feet and pushed open the front door before heading inside the building. Left alone, we decided to follow the little albino with caution.

Jeanne kept her armor on, her eyes scanning for any potential threats as we trailed behind the Servant. Passing through the hallway, we entered the dimly lit common room, illuminated only by a single light bulb dangling from the ceiling. At the end of the room, we spotted a pair.

The first figure was the Servant of Assassination, Jack the Ripper, while the other was a buxom woman with a head of murky green hair, draped in a fur coat over a lime dress. She sat on a chair next to a table, an air of gentleness mixed with thorns surrounded her form as her piercing eyes scrutinized us from head to toe.

"I am Ruler, the administrator of this war," Jeanne started with an introduction. "Am I right assume that you're the Master of Assassin?" she asked for confirmation.

"Yes, you are correct," the woman confirmed. Thankfully, she appeared to have a sound mind and opted to have a conversation instead of outright attacking us. "I am Rikudou Reika, nice to meet you, Ruler. And who might your companion be?"

"Emiya Shirou," I chimed in. "Don't mind me, I'm just here for moral support," raising a hand, I pointed at the Saintess. Hearing my name, Reika's eyes widened by a tad, probably surprised to find someone of the same origin as her in the middle of Romania.

"Let me ask you, are you aware of the inner workings of the Holy Grail War?" Jeanne inquired.

"Yes. But I'm afraid some details might be lost on me as I am not well versed in magic—magecraft, sorry," she quickly corrected herself. The distinction between the two—Magic and Magecraft—was pretty important. 'Magic' refers to feats unattainable through science, while 'Magecraft' are mystic arts that could be replicated with modern science.

"Are you not a magus?" Jeanne questioned. 'Is she perhaps a civilian who got forced into the role of a Master?' her thoughts stirred.

"I am not," Reika confirmed her inner musings. "I was taken by a man named Sagara Hyouma, who–" she shot a glance at the little albino, "–Jack had disposed of after her summoning, making me her Master. I'm guessing you're here due to the series of murders occurring around town?"

"We came here with that in mind, yes," Jeanne affirmed.

"Are you here to take her away from me?" her lips curved into a frown. "You will not take my child. You'd either have to kill me or leave us alone." Reika gave off a motherly aura as she lovingly embraced her Servant, who returned the gesture in kind while sporting an gleeful smile.

It appears during their short time together, the woman had already grown deeply attached to her Servant and even started calling Jack her child.

Seeing their warm exchange, Jeanne faltered for a moment. "N-no. Unless I am forced to, you are free to conduct however you wish for as long as it doesn't put regular people at risk. Unfortunately, that is exactly what you're doing, which brings us to where we're at now," she mentioned. "From what I could gather, you fail to supply Assassin with sufficient mana, so you resorted to consuming human organs as a replacement."

"Yes, I have, and will continue to do so if it meant Jack gets to lives another day." She glared at the Ruler Servant, her eyes reflecting a menacing red. "And don't even suggest drinking semen as an alternative, she is just a child for goodness sake."

From a technical standpoint, Jack was definitely older than her by a large margin, but Reika doesn't view it that way. She looked at Jack for how she really was—a little girl who needs a parent.

"Actually, there is a way to supply your little Assassin without needing to eat people's hearts, or use the other, unsavoury method," I interjected before the Saintess could respond.

"There is?" Reika tentatively asked. "Tell me, and it better not involve you doing disgusting things to Jack, or I will cut your manhood off the moment you put your hands on her," she spat out venomously.

'Shirou would never do such a thing.' Jeanne narrows her eyes and opens her mouth, about to defend Shirou's character, but the redhead spoke first before any fluttering remarks about him escaped her lips.

"Hey, I'm not that far into the depths of depravity. And you need to calm down, not everyone's out to get you," I waved my hand, dismissing her threat. "Don't worry, the solution I'm telling you doesn't require me to touch little Jackie over here," said individual reacted to the nickname I gave them by tilting her head a little bit.

With a flicker of light, a carton of apple juice manifested in my hand. "Here, try this," I offered to the little Assassin. It seemed my recent, admittedly accidental, discovery about the nature of my Projections was already proving useful.

Jack looked at her Master, as if seeking permission. After a moment of contemplation, Reika gave her the green light. Assassin took the item from my hand, stuck the straw into it, and took a gulp of the beverage.

"This! It taste good!" the little murder machine beamed as a wave of warmth invigorated her body.

"Does it give you any energy at all?" Reika asked, caressing her Servant's head. Jack gave an enthusiastic "Yep!" in response. The green-haired woman sighed in relief and turned to us, saying, "Thank you. I apologize for my earlier attitude, I just didn't want to lose Jack."

"All good, no harm done," I chuckled, not taking offense to her prior behavior.

"No need to apologize, Miss Rikudou. You were only looking out for your—um, daughter," Jeanne joined in, a bit unsure of how to refer to the Assassin-class Servant.

"I can provide you with a box of these a day, but it'd be troublesome to go back and forth from Trifas to Bucharest to deliver them. So, how about you come with us for now? We have an apartment back in Trifas," I suggested, then turned to Jeanne. "You wouldn't mind taking them in, right?"

"I do not, no worries," Jeanne replied, her expression resembling that of a proud parent as she looked at her fellow Saint.

Reika gave the two a look, her shock at Shirou and Jeanne's friendliness was evident. Internally, she couldn't help but wonder why they were being so generous to her and Jack, especially considering their—rather, Ruler's role in this war. Amidst her disbelief, there was a glimmer of hope that perhaps she and Jack could live through this conflict without battles or any more bloodshed.

She stayed silent for a moment before parting her lips, her austere temperment replaced by nervousness, "Is it really okay for me to intrude upon your home?"

"It's fine, Miss Rikudou. You're welcome to join us," Jeanne reassured with a kind smile. "And you wouldn't have to worry about your meals, Shirou can cook up the best dishes you'll ever taste," she remarked.

"Quite the high praise you have there. Though, I can attest what she said isn't false," I off-handedly commented. If there was one thing I was proud of that doesn't involve swords, or armaments in general, it would be my culinary skills… and maybe house work as well.

"Then, if you wouldn't mind, I'll be under your care," she bowed, displaying her heartfelt thanks. Truth be told, she was a little unnerved by their hospitality, it was a stark contrast to what she was used to seeing—animosity. But she welcomed their compassion nonetheless.

"Alright, you might wanna start packing whatever you need to. We'll meet at the nearby station in an hour, is that fine with you?" I Projected another carton of juice for Jack after she finished the first one. The little albino happily took the juice and proceeded to drink it. "And you might want to give Jackie some better clothes. It's, uh… eye-catching, to say the least," I pointed out.

"Yes, that's enough time. And I have some extra clothes for her to wear," Reika replied. "Again, thank you... very much," she added, her voice almost tearful.



"That went better than expected," the redhead muttered as he and Jeanne emerged from the old structure, stepping into the silent aisle.

"Indeed. To be frank, I expected our meeting to turn violent one way or another," Jeanne voiced out her thoughts.

"Let's just be thankful that didn't come to pass," he said in relief.

The two of them then left the area while making small talk, exchanging ideas on how to pass the next hour. However, as if to spite Shirou's prior thoughts, the world went silent as a familiar prickling sensation spread across his body.

'A Bounded Field?' he immediately figured out the strange occurrence. The effects of the barrier wasn't that difficult to determine—it forced everyone who knew nothing about magecraft away from the site, leaving it abandoned.

"Shirou—!" Jeanne exclaimed in a panic, her banner poised and ready for an attack.

Shirou's ears failed to register her shout as a gauntlet-clad fist on a collision course with his face appeared from out of nowhere. Acting out of pure instinct, he hastily raised his arm and reinforced it to protect himself from the incoming blow. The punch broke past Shirou's guard, producing a sickening crack as it made contact with his forearm.

With the grace of a tumbleweed, Shirou was thrown back a few meters and crashed straight into an innocent car parked on the side of the road. He had no idea who the vehicle belonged to, but the young man felt really sorry for this.

Suddenly, Shirou felt an acute sense of pain burst free from underneath his flesh. Glancing at his bloody arm, he watched as a metallic sheen formed a lattice pattern beneath his skin, replacing his flesh with miniature blades, before being dismantled by the healing properties of Avalon, restoring his arm to muscles and tissue.

'Goodness gracious,' Shirou cringed at the tingling feeling left by the strange occurrence. Due to its nature as a "sword", his body had its own way of mending itself—which involved tiny swords stitching his injuries—and it was incredibly painful, to say the least. Thankfully, the Ever Distant Utopia overpowered his body's unique regeneration before it could turn his limb into a hunk of metal.

As his attacker followed up with another strike, Jeanne's flag raced through the air and reached the aggressor in the blink of an eye, forcing them to take a step back in order to avoid it. Jeanne stood in front of the fallen redhead protectively, gazing sharply at the intruder. They were a Servant, no doubt about it.

Jeanne attempted to use her ability as a Ruler to determine their identity, but to her surprise, it failed due to a skill they possessed, blocking her from accessing their information. She briskly snapped out of her puzzlement, regaining her focus.

Shirou rose to his feet while cradling his broken arm to my chest, wincing. Thanks to Avalon, the injury would be of no issue in a minute or so, but the pain still lingered. Once again, he was reminded of the strength a Servant possessed. Even with all his upgrades from the System, all it took was a single punch to snap his bones.

Hiding behind the Saintess, Shirou scanned the one who struck him. They were of short stature, equipped in thick, metallic armor with occasional red accents, a helmet with two protruding horns was firmly on their head that revealed not a hint of their race or gender. In their hand, a large sword of the same colour scheme could be seen releasing a crackle of untamed energy.

Using his knowledge about the Fate franchise, the reincarnator immediately discerned the Servant's identity: the Knight of Treachery—Mordred. In a heartbeat, Unlimited Blade Works made a copy of her sword, Clarent, adding it to his increasing repertoire of Noble Phantasms. With this, he should stand a chance against a Servant if Shirou plays his cards correctly.

"Saber of Red! Stop this at once!" Jeanne ordered. Fortunately, the Servant remained in place and simply stared in silence. Unbeknownst to the twin Saints, the reason for Mordred's inactivity was because her Master was yelling at her through their link.

Saber broke the stillness by raising their hand, pointing at the Ruler Servant. "You, what is your name?" from within the horned helm, a voice of higher pitch echoed, their tone curt.

"I am Ruler, the administrator of this war," she announced for the world to hear. Shirou does wonder how many times she's said this already, probably a lot.

"Saber! That was not part of the goddamn plan!" an exasperated shout came from across the street.

Turning their heads, they spotted a man with striking blonde hair and sunglasses near them, saying, "I'm sorry about this, Ruler. We thought you were the Master and Servant we were looking for," he directed an apology towards Jeanne.

"What about me? No words for the guy that got assaulted?" Shirou voiced out, peeking from behind the Saintess' shoulder. His arm had already recovered at this point, so he had no problem giving a small wave.

"You too, sorry," he added, sounding as if he didn't even want to.

"Rude. I'll have have you know I have feelings too," the redhead returned, feigning a smidgen of sadness.

"Are you a Master from the Red faction?" Jeanne assumed.

"Uh, yeah. Shishigou Kairi, at your service," he introduced himself, then motioned towards Saber. "And this is my Servant. I promise we mean no harm, Ruler. Saber kinda just… uh, did that." He shot a glance at his Servant and asked, "Why'd you even do that?"

"Hey, I asked who you are, not your class. You as well, red-haired knob," Mordred ignored her Master, her sights flickering between the two individuals who had a similar appearance to someome she idolized and loathed at the same time. "Answer me!" the knight demanded.

"Unfortunately, my True Name would have to remain undisclosed, Saber of Red," Jeanne refused to reveal her identity, as expected. Servants don't usually go around telling everyone their name as it reveals a lot, if not everything about them from their strength to weaknesses. So they mostly call themselves by their assigned class in order to prevent that.

"Emiya Shirou, nice to meet you." On the opposite side of the spectrum, the young man had no problem revealing his. Not like his name is famous here or anything, right?

Kairi frowned, recognition flashing in his eyes. The surname reminded him of the renowned Magus Killer, Kiritsugu Emiya. Last he checked, the man had retired and was spending his days in Fuyuki with his wife and two children—one biological, while the other taken in. Coincidentally, the kid before him had the same name as Kiritsugu's adopted son.

Speaking of the son, Kairi heard that he'd made a huge splash in the magi community with his introduction of "Domain Expansions", or whatever it was called, a year ago. It was essentially an inferior version of a Reality Marble that anyone with a profound understanding over their magecraft could manifest, and it sent every practitioner of thaumaturgy around the world into a frenzy.

Due to his discovery, the Mage Association turned the boy into a Sealing Designate - an order to retrieve his body, becoming no more than subject of experimentation - but they were forced to withdraw after Shirou Emiya gave the world a taste of the first ever Domain Expansion, Shrine of Unlimited Blades, during one fiery encounter, mincing everything within a 150-meter radius and killing every personnel the Association had sent to capture him.

A bit of sweat trickled down Kairi's back, but he dismissed it as just a coincidence that someone with the same name was here in Romania. If this kid really was that 'Shirou Emiya,' this place would be swarming with magi by now with the intent to either get under his good graces or hunt him down for his secrets. A person of his status would have their movements under watch twenty-four-seven, so Kairi Shishigou would've heard if the Magus Killer's son had come here.

'Thankfully, that doesn't seem to be the case,' Kairi sighed internally. But, just to be sure, he would give his acquaintances at the Association a call, who would later confirm that 'Shirou Emiya' had not taken a single step out of Fuyuki.

He was fully ignorant of the fact that the redhead in front of him was just a different version of the one he knew. On the flip side, this Shirou Emiya had no idea that another iteration of him existed in this world as well.

"Tch," Saber of Red clicked her tongue, dissatisfied by something, before kicking a rock on the side of the road, sending it flying towards a nearby glass window, shattering it. She took a step back, but kept her sight trained on the pair of Saints.

"What is your purpose here, Master of Saber?" Jeanne probed.

Recovering from his stupor, Kairi formed a response, "The Mage Association has tasked me to investigate whatever is happening here. You've heard of the recent murder spree, right? We're here to stop that, it's most-likely a Servant running around."

"Yes, we have," Jeanne nodded. "And you need not worry about the rogue Servant; my partner and I have already taken care of the problem. Your presence here is unnecessary," she proclaimed, prompting Kairi to raise a brow.

"Did you kill them?" Jeanne answered by shaking her head. "You didn't? Then how can you be sure they won't do anything stupid like this again?" he questioned.

"They were not of magi lineage and has no plans on participating in this war. They'll be placed under our care and would cause no problems for the duration of the Holy Grail War," Jeanne assured. She then glanced at her companion, who gave a nod to support her earlier statement.

"I guess that's one less Servant to worry about," the blonde man let out a chuckle that flowed into a drawn out sigh. "Coming here was a load of nothing, we should probably get going. I'll take down the Bounded Field around the place before we go." He then looked at his Servant. "And you, I knew you were proned to violence, but don't just attack random people, alright? You're starting to look more like a raging Berserker than an elegant Saber at this point."

The Knight of Treachery offered nothing more than a low growl as a response. For some weird reason she could not figure out, Mordred couldn't help but send a curious glance at Shirou Emiya, finding his presence somewhat familiar. Blinking, she caught herself drifting into her own little world and rocked her head, shaking herself awake.

The four bid their farewells to one another and went on their separate ways soon after. The Saber of Red, however, continued to stare at the pair of Saints as they walked away, only stopping when they turned a corner, out of the knight's sight.

A little later, Shirou and Jeanne reunited with Assassin and her Master, who carried a suitcase in her hands, and took a ride back to Trifas.



Within the confines of the Yggdmillenia castle, a Servant clad in deep blue and shimmering gold scanned an artificial human - a homunculus who's sole purpose was to serve its creator - strapped atop a table, studying the specimen from behind his burnished mask. The Servant could see its determination to live shining brighter than anything else.

"A homunculus with a will of its own. A curious little thing, you are," the Servant remarked. This specific homunculus had somehow developed a sense of self and even created its own magic circuits to escape its container. And for a short period of time, it had gained freedom, until one of the guards patrolling the area spotted it, cutting its independence short.

The front door suddenly opened, revealing a young boy carrying a box of items. The lad's face beamed upon seeing the man in blue, exclaiming, "Hey teach! I brought the stuff, is this much okay?"

"Yes, that would suffice… Master," the Servant awkwardly said. His relationship with his summoner, the youngling who just entered, was a strange one. The boy did not treat him as a familiar or tool like everyone else in this god-forsaken fortress, but as a senior in golemancy—the art of creating golems. It was the kid's respect towards himself that made the boy's antics tolerable, otherwise, he would've thrown the brat inside one of his contraptions already.

"Okay! I'll put this over here. Good luck on what you're doing, Caster! There's some stuff Darnic wanted to tell us, so I better get going!" the child placed the stuff down then hollered as he darted outside, leaving the masked individual alone. As to where his Master went, the now revealed Caster-class Servant cared little about it for his current task required his undivided attention.

With everything gathered, his masterpiece would grace the world with its presence, and his dream would be fulfilled.

From behind the walls that encased Caster's workshop, another Servant idled with a look of sadness. He possessed a head of long pink hair with two ribbons adorning each side, his face was one that one could not help but find adorable. Clad in a form-fitting black attire that hugged his slender frame, accentuating his feminine charms, with matching stockings raised to his thighs.

The Rider of Black—Astolfo, one of Charlemagne's paladins—let out a sigh. If only he had arrived a second earlier to the homunculus' side, this tragedy could have been prevented, their life saved. He was even prepared to face whatever punishment his psychopath of a Master might mete out if it meant preserving their existence. Alas, there was nothing he could do now but carry the weight of his failure.

Swiftly, Astolfo regained the bubbly atmosphere he always carried and hopped along, roaming the halls of the Yggdmillenia castle. Yet, despite his outward cheer, the memory of his inability to save that ill-fated person still lingered, weighing on his conscience.

Astolfo had always been an advocate for freedom. He was born a prince, but willingly abandoned that position because he found it too troublesome. Even when he got turned into a tree that one time, he had managed to find solace in the tranquility it offered. Nothing could stop Astolfo from embracing whatever life threw at him, whether good or bad. So, he was slightly upset that someone lost an opportunity to be free and explore the world, witness its beauty with their own eyes.

"Rider," a soothing voice called out to him.

Turning, the Servant of the Mount spotted the Servant of the Bow, Chiron the centaur, who, if Astolfo was being honest, looked nothing like one at all. The only inhuman trait about him was the tail on his rear, and nothing else. 'Maybe he can switch forms?' Astolfo has pondered this many times.

He wore a Greek warrior's ensemble and approached with his signature polite smile. His stride exuded confidence, the air around him as tranquil as a forest.

"Chiron!" Astolfo waved, greeting the Archer-class Servant. "Need someone to relax with? I know some cozy places to take a nap in."

"I'm afraid I would have to decline, Rider. Darnic has given an order for everyone to gather at the main hall, except Caster who's on his little project," Chiron relayed what his own Master, Fiore Forvege Yggdmillenia, had told him earlier.

"Okie!" The paladin gave an adorable salute, his eyes bursting with energy as if he wasn't just downtrodden a minute ago, then followed the Servant of the Bow to the meeting location.



"How are we out of ingredients again?" I scratched the back of my head in confusion. I was certain we bought enough to last a few days just yesterday. What happened to them? Did they get snatched by the boogeyman or something?

"Shirou! Shirou!" The Servant of Assassination, now dressed in appropriate clothing for someone of her age, yelled while peeking her head above the kitchen counter. "Can we have hamburgers for breakfast?"

"Sure, why not," I accepted without giving it a second thought. Then, I blinked in realization. "I have a strong feeling I know the reason why we're out of stock so quickly."

"Yay!" the little albino celebrated, then sprinted to her Master sitting elegantly on the couch. "Mommy, we're having burgers!"

"Yes, Jackie. Yes we are," Reika lifted the young girl onto her lap and took her into a loving embrace. "And I would like to say that it was you who kept cooking whatever Jack asks for, Shirou, hence the shortage," she mentioned.

"I wasn't complaining. And I'll have you know that I've also been spoiling Jeanne with lots of her favorite food, not just Jack," I returned with a smirk, eyeing the Saint of Orleans seated beside Reika.

Jeanne tried to conceal the redness dyeing her features, but failed miserably, causing Reika to giggle at how cute she was acting.

"Alright. Imma go out and buy some things," I announced, taking my apron off. To be honest, I might just wear one wherever and whenever. I can rock an apron—nay, the apron rocks me. Or maybe both? Maybe we're meant together.

I walked towards the door, about to open it, when Reika spoke up, "Want me to come with you?"

"No need, it'll just be a quick run to the market. I'll be back in a bit," I declined, shaking my head.

Emerging from my home into the busy streets, I swiftly made my way towards a few stalls I've been frequenting for the past several days, talked to some friendly locals, and bought some ingredients that should last us a full week, fully accounting Jeanne and Jack's gluttonous stomachs.

While at it, I noticed a black cat running away from disgruntled girl clad in red. Stopping my walk, I took a better look at the lass. She had spiky blonde hair that's tied into a ponytail, draped in clothing that showcased the majority of her skin, most prominently her perfectly toned midriff, prompting the neurons in my head to activate.

I approached the young lass, saying, "Oh, look what we have here."

"Do I know you?" bluntly she replied. Taking a better look of my face, she made her displeasure known by curling her lips into a frown.

"You literally broke my arm when we first met," I reminded.

The Knight of Treachery stared at me in silence, her hardened look turning into one of shock. "You know?"

"What do you mean?" I questioned, putting on an innocent facade.

"What do you mean—what do I mean? You've never seen my face before. How did you figure me out?" She remained inside her armour, not even retracting her helmet, when they first met in that alley. And there was no way Ruler figured out her identity because her skill, [Secret Pedigree], blocked all sorts of probing methods. So how?

"Oh, you know," I paused, putting on a air of mysticism, then resumed, "I know a thing or two. The winds carries stories, and I like listening to them."

"Bullshit!" she rebutted not a beat later. "Answer the damn question! How did you recognize who I was!?"

"Goodness, you already have a hearing problem at that age? Let me say it again, I know a thing or two," I reiterated. A grin spread across my face, which annoyed the Saber Servant.

"You damn—ugh!" the Servant of the Sword groaned, her face twisting in frustration. "You won't answer my question, would you?"

I contemplated for a brief moment, and spoke in a hushed tone, "Short answer: I know who you are. Mordred Pendragon, Knight of Treachery. Or as I like to call you, Moedred the Lion Cub."

"You…" she hissed, her tone dropping a note. "Speak of my name like that again, I fucking dare you." After saying her piece, her body effused a dangerous swirl of magical energy, its essence bloodthirsty and untamed.

"Now, now. Before you lop my head of in the name of keeping your True Name a secret, just know that I am a neutral party and would not go running my mouth off, don't worry about it," I promised, hoping to placate the angry cub.

Before the air around us became even more frigid and suffocating, I decided to do something completely unexpected—some might say absurd.

"Here, catch." Using Projection, a burger appeared in my hand, then casually tossed it at her.

"W-what? What's this for?" Mordred stammered as she snatched the foodstuff from the air. Utterly caught off guard by my action, the torrent of mana spewing out of her frame faded into nothingness.

"Hamburger. You eat it," I answered with a chuckle. Truly, I am master at de-escalation. Perhaps I was still a little too lax talking to a potential enemy, but worry did not appear in my mind for it was in the middle of the day, a time when fighting was prohibited. Even if there was that slight chance she'd attack me, I was fully prepared to summon Luminosité Eternelle, Jeanne's Noble Phantasm, in order to protect myself.

"I know that, bastard! Why give me this?" She waved the bruger in her hand. "Where'd you even get this from?"

"Magic," I proclaimed. "It's a peace offering, if you will. Eating that will restore your magical energy by a lot, and it doesn't spoil, so keep it with you at all times."

Mordred ran her empty hand down her face, whining as a memory of an old acquaintance of hers, an eccentric wizard with a deep love for flowers, resurfaced in her head. "You remind me of that flowery bastard too much. You're just fucking with me, aren't you?"

"Maybe, who knows?" I shrugged, acting all mysterious. Completely unnecessary, but I just wanted to do it.

"For fucks sake, why do I have to meet someone like that bitch over here too," Mordred cursed her luck.

"Language, Mo-mo. A child shouldn't be speaking like that," I scolded how a parent would their child, even wagging my index finger at her.

"Shut the hell up and don't call me weird names!" she shouted in defiance. Saber spun around and started walking away, the magical hamburger still in her grasp. "Now you're just pissing me off. Go mess around somewhere else, you annoying-ass wizard."

"Well, nice seeing you too, Moe-chan. You should let your hair down sometime, you look cuter that way." She froze for a second before continuing her stride. For some odd reason I could not understand, I felt a strong need to bully Mordred and Jeanne.

I let out a bewildered "huh" while watching her angrily stomp away. I fully expected her to engage in a battle of words, not back off and just straight up leave, I guess the person I reminded her of—Merlin, the "flowery bastard" as she called him—had done a number on her in the past, leading to her avoid people who acted like him. I guess the best decision was to simply not play into their game, smart Moe-chan.

"Welp, that just happened. Time to go home." And to home is where I went soon after, laden with groceries.



The sun had sunk into the horizon, bringing darkness to Trifas. Inside an inconspicuous apartment, a certain red-haired boy opened his mouth to speak.

"Hey Jeanne?" Shirou called out to his housemate.

"Yes?" she responded, looking at him.

"I have something to confess, nothing weird—well, I guess it depends on how you look at it." He plopped down on the couch, sitting next to her. The Saintess remained silent, waiting for the redhead to continue. "You see, I actually came here with two things in mind."

"And what would those be?" she inquired.

"First, I'm here to help you as I've already said before… and the second is to stop all of this by destroying the Holy Grail," he revealed, without beating around the bush.

"I see," Jeanne nodded. "I may not be able to aid in your endeavor, but I wish you luck."

"So… you're not gonna tell me off?" A look of surprise crossed his face. "What if I'm doing this to harm people?"

"Oh, Shirou. From everything I've seen of you, you're most definitely not that kind of person, so don't even say otherwise," she said. While he may be blunt, sometimes bordering on rude or nonchalant, he possessed a kind heart and only wished the best for everyone.

"You've got me all figured out, huh?" Shirou chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "Though, are you really fine with me going through with this? Isn't it your job and all to adhere to the Grail?"

"My duty is to uphold the rules of this war and make sure no innocent people get tangled up in it," she pointed out. "As for the Grail… it does not react to your words, so I see no reason for me to stop you. And it might even prevent a catastrophe from befalling the people of this town."

"I thought that you, a Saint recognized by the Church, would take offense to me desecrating one of the Church's holy reliquaries," Shirou said. While it might not be the actual Holy Chalice that Jesus Christ used, the Church certainly thought it was close enough, even declaring themselves as the governor of the Heaven's Feel Ritual, which they later dubbed as the 'Holy Grail War.'

"Are you not one as well?" she mentioned, motioning at the redhead. "And much like you, not once have I ever called myself a Saint, I merely did what I thought was right under the guidance of the Lord," Jeanne explained, bringing her hand over her heart.

"Do you hold any grudges against the Church? Or the English for that matter?" he tentatively asked. They not only branded her as a heretic but also burned her at the stake, surely there's some level of animosity there, right? If anything, they do not deserve to even associate themselves with her after what they did.

"The English fought for what they thought was right, while I did much the same. And I hold no grudges against the Church, nor blame them for their actions," she replied, her voice calm as the ocean despite the subject being about her death.

"But they stabbed you in the back. Had it not been for Callixtus the third, you would've went down in history as someone who you weren't. They—!" Shirou abruptly shut his mouth, swallowing his outburst. "I'm sorry for bringing that up. I don't know why I'm getting all heated up by this." He didn't know what came over him to even start this topic, so he promptly burried it right then and there.

"It is fine." The Saintess swayed her hand. "I appreciate your willingness to be angry on my behalf, Shirou. But please do not point that anger towards those affiliated with the Church, or I myself will be mad at you," she warned, puffing her cheeks cutely.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Shirou apologized, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. "I definitely don't want to see you getting mad, Big G up there might just smite me," he joked.

The two conversed some more, enjoying each other's comfort, until Jeanne decided to bring up something relating to his plans about destroying the Greater Grail.

"But what of Assassin? Once the thing that anchors her existence vanishes, so would she shortly after," she mentioned, worry evident in her voice. "Reika would be saddened if that happens, or do you plan on supplying her with magical energy after the fact?" She turned, gazing at the door that led to Reika and Jack's room, formerly a storeroom, where they're currently sleeping together.

"About that, there's no need to worry. I have something in mind, just leave it to me," Shirou said confidently, pointing at himself.

After a day of contemplation, he planned on taking a piece of the Grail itself after its destruction and essentially turn it into a mana source for Jack to use in order to sustain herself when Shirou inevitably returns home. There were probably better ways to do it, but he admits that he is not the smartest when it came to the intricacies of magecraft, so that was the best he could do.

Shirou glanced at the clock on the wall, and spoke, "Well, it's getting late. How about we call it a night?"

Jeanne acknowledged his words with a hum, bid her goodnights and ended their conversation, then retired to her bedroom. While she might possess the spirit of a hero, her body remained that of a human, requiring regular sleep.

END.

Author's notes: Let me point out that every version of Shirou Emiya in this universe is a self-insert of myself. Why? I thought it was funny.

That's just how things are now. Don't worry about it.
 

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