Shirou, Blade of Emiya

[Dunno.]

This is a self-insert, mostly self-indulgent piece of fan work and nothing else. Enjoy this garbage.

P.S: Expect random power-ups.

Chapter 1: Shirou Emiya. (15D/3M/24Y)

[Have fun! Sincerely, Dunnonia.] A youthful voice reached my ears, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"What?" Confused, I turned my head to look at my surroundings, yet found no anomalies in sight that could've caused such a noise. I was alone in my kitchen, running water being the only sound one can hear as I was currently washing the dishes. Blinking a few times, I chalked it up to my mind playing tricks and resumed cleaning the plates before placing them back at the cupboard.

After wiping my hands clean and turning the faucet off, a weak thump sounded from behind me, catching my attention. Upon facing the origin of the noise—an empty wall, my eyes trembled in fear as a wall of fire engulfed my vision, before being violently flung backwards straight into the wall by an invisible force.

"Gah!" A pained shout forced its way out of my mouth as I dropped to the ground. Opening my eyes, I caught sight of my home being ruthlessly swallowed by a sea of flames that seemed twist and writhe with a life of their own. My barely functioning brain processed the information and came up with a probable explanation: an explosion of some sort.

My ears rang a sharp tune, unable to pick up any noise from the surroundings, and my entire being was submerged in a pit of untold agony. Despite the pain my body was subjected to, I clenched my jaw, picked myself off the ground, and immediately rushed towards the back door to escape.

Emerging into the outside world, I was met with a sight that can only be described as a hellscape; the ground below were but of ash and cinder, the buildings groaned then crumbled into fine dust, the sky plagued with ominous clouds that seemed to spell out the end of the world, and pillars of flame that seared anything it touched were everywhere.

I swiftly snapped out of my bewilderment and focused on escaping the area. Trudging across the fiery landscape, my legs threatened to collapse with each step, but I refused to fall and pushed my body to its limits to move even a single centimeter forward.

Screams resonated from all around the place; a man was digging through piles of debris in search of his loved one, a young girl shouted their parents' names amidst a cage of rubble, and a bunch of others were yelling in agony as the flames swiftly consumed them.

"Please!" A desperate voice called out. Halting my steps, I faced the direction of the shout and saw a woman trapped under a concrete pillar "My baby! Please take her!" She extended her arms forward to show me a blanket wrapped around the charred form of what I can only assume to be a child at one point.

"Sorry…" I quietly said before walking past the ill-fated mother, ignoring her pleas that gradually blended into the background. Some might call me cruel for leaving someone to die, but I rationalized my decision by thinking that I, too am a victim in this scenario, trying their best to survive.

I marched through, letting the cacophony of cries go from one ear to the other. I did not know where I was heading, the place was utterly unrecognizable with all the destruction spread about. After a few minutes of non-stop walking, ignoring the pain that came with each stride, the limits of my body has finally been reached, causing it to unceremoniously drop to the scorched ground. The sensation of pain slowly left as my senses began to numb.

"Haa…" A defeated sigh left my lips as I lied on my back, staring at the dark skies above. In my delirium, I spotted a star that shone brighter than most amongst the clouds and reached out for it without much thought. For some odd reason, my limb felt light and shorter, but it was probably my imagination.

My mind and body has failed me, there was nothing else I could do to extend my life for even a second more. A series of blurry images brushed over my head—memories I've come to cherish over the years played in my mind like a feature-film, causing a small smile to form on my lips.

Accepting my fate, I took one last breath as death approached and stopped holding my arm up. However, before it could fall back down, a pair of hands took firm hold of mine as if scared it would disappear the moment they let go.

Suddenly, a burst of golden light enveloped my whole being before vanishing just as quickly as it appeared. Though confused, I swifty threw the phenomenon at the back of my mind.

Then, the voice of a man reached my ears. "Thank goodness..." Relief and happiness could be felt in his words, as to why, I didn't know. Perhaps they mistook me for someone they knew.

My eyes trained on their face; he appeared to be of asian descent with rowdy black hair, his eyes were filled with emotion as tears slid down their cheeks, the smile on his face matching the brightness of a star, and he mumbled out words of gratitude while grasping my hand.

As my conciousness flickered, one final thought crossed my mind. 'Why… are you smiling like that?'

----

"Welp, this ought to be fun." A being of pure darkness muttered. Its shape continuously shifted, but always retained a vague humanoid shape with a silky scarf draped around their neck. It picked up a book labled "Shirou, Blade of Emiya" from a weathered bookcase and made its way through the unnatural structure it resided in.

The being hummed a jolly tune as it walked across the space with swift, yet elegant steps. Eventually, it arrived at a small garden crowded with all sorts of colourful flowers.

The blackened creature sat on the chair in the middle of it all before opening the book in its grasp, eager to read its contents—a story following the life of a normal person who got reincarnated into the world of Fate/Stay Night as a certain Hero of Justice with a System on their side.

----

Through the window, I stared at the endless expanse of white and blue that incased the morning sky, until the silence was broken by the harmonious sounds of children interacting with one another in the same room as I.

Earlier on the news today, the investigation about the particular incident had finished, and the disaster that took the lives of hundreds was concluded to be nothing more than an accident due to a gas leak.

It had been a few days since then, and I had come to discover something shocking upon waking up. "I'm a child again." I whisper to myself. Specifically, a seven year old child with a head of auburn hair and a pair of amber-coloured eyes. No matter how much I tried to tell the doctors and nurses, they remained unconvinced, attributing it to me still being in a state of shock, so I gave up and tried to think of an explanation of my own—which went nowhere as expected.

I mean, how can one even begin to understand the peculiar position I found myself in? I was but a normal member of society, not a scientist. And the fact I was in Japan midway through the year 1994, could write and speak their native tongue as if I had grown up with it all my life, only complicated everything else.

"You must be Shirou, yes?" As I wallow in my own thoughts, a familiar voice pulled me back to reality. I turned, facing the same man who dragged me out of the sea of flames days ago. He wore a black trench-coat that fell just below his shin and had a briefcase on hand for some reason. Unlike when I first met him, his expression was blank, and his eyes shone weakly.

'Shirou… yeah, that's what they called me.' I didn't know why, but my name was registered as "Shirou" in their database even though I don't recall claiming my name to be as such, however, I was too preoccupied with my thoughts at the time to correct it.

"I am Emiya Kiritsugu." My eyes twitched for the briefest of moments, remembering a character of the same name from a certain franchise. "Well, little Shirou, you have a choice. You can chose to go enter an orphanage, or be adopted by me."

I stroke my chin while putting on a thoughtful expression. This man went out of his way to save a kid he barely knew about from a deadly place that could've easily killed him, so I didn't think he'll do anything bad to me, but his empty gaze and impassive face made me a tad apprehensive about accepting his offer. However, his intentions of taking care of me was genuine, that much I could tell. My physical form might've regressed back to a child, but my thought process was still that of an adult.

"Sure." I pointed my hand towards him, welcoming his offer with a kind smile. I feel a little aweful about taking advantage of his kindness, but one should take whatever they could get when thrown into a unfamiliar environment.

The kids around us stared in wonder, causing a bit of a clamour. I did not know how they feel watching another kid in the same circumstances as you be adopted so quickly, but I ignored them in favour of switching into a new set of clothing a nurse had kindly given me.

The nurse felt somewhat off; her eyes were hollow, and her movements punctual, as if she were a robot following a set of instructions. Were nurses in Japan like this? However, what caught my attention the most was the fact that Kiritsugu already had the paperwork necessary to adopt "Shirou", as I am known by at this moment, in the briefcase he possessed.

Though a bit surprised, I chalked it up as him eager to take me in, perhaps he'd started the process right after dropping me off the hospital some days ago. After putting on my new garments, which consisted of a dark jacket and pair of shorts, I followed my adoptive father outside the hospital and hopped inside a black car parked right at the entrance.

Now comfortably sat down with my seatbelt in place, Kiritsugu ignited the engine and drove out of the hospital grounds into the busy highway. He and I never spoke the whole ride, but the atmosphere between us never went awkward, thankfully.

While lazily staring out the window, watching the shifting landscape, my thoughts drifted. I'd already concluded this to be real, and not just some dream my mind had conjured while on the brink of death. I've tried hurting myself, much to the horror of the caretakers, and did everything I could to 'wake up', but all of my attempts failed, leaving me to acknowledge my current reality. As unbelievable as it was, all I could do was accept it and try my best not to fumble this chance I was graciously gifted.

Time whizzed by until the car went into a stop before a wall that wrapped around a traditional Japanese mansion, its splendor out for all to see. It was a sight to behold for sure, but my first thought was rather mundane: 'This place would be a pain to clean.'

The mansion didn't appear to be manned, there were no cleaners or caretakers on sight with the only occupants being Kiritsugu and I, so instead of feeling excited at the prospect of living in such a large house, a sense of unease went over me.

My adoptive father and I emerged from the vehicle and entered the mansion's parameters. Upon stepping into the foyer, I was greeted by an imposing empty hallway which made my eyes narrow slightly. While not abundant, an accumulation of dust could still be spotted on some surfaces, causing an itch to form in my head that badly needed to be scratched.

Kiritsugu, seeing me glare at the floor, ushered me inside with a weak push on the back before strolling past me. Broken out of my thoughts, I trailed behind him and entered a living room with a small low-table in the middle.

"Shirou, I have something to tell you something." Kiritsugu sat down on the wooden floor and declared: "I'm a mage, or 'magus' you could say."

"What do you mean?" I asked, echoing my confusion. Was he some sort of stage magician? How can such profession even let you buy a house as large as this one in the middle of a city? I know this was the past, but buying a property like this shouldn't have been easy even back then.

His face became more earnest. "I know it might sound absurd, but magic does truly exist in the world we live in. The correct term would be 'magecraft', as 'true magic' has been lost to time, the distinction between the two is pretty important."

Then, a sudden jolt of electricity flashed across my mind. My face was stuck in a state of disbelief after finally figuring out why he, and the strange happenings prior to this, seemed familiar.

Kiritsugu Emiya, a man known throughout the supernatural space as the "Magus Killer", was sitting before me, and I was none other than his adoptive son, Shirou Emiya, whom the man rescued from the disaster he, himself created —— How could I have missed such obvious signs?

'I'm in Fate?'

----

Some time later, after getting over the sudden revelation that I now reside in a world thought to be purely fictional, I stood near the kitchen in utter silence, confusion mixed with fear washing over my entire being.

'What the hell happened here?' I thought to myself while watching plumes of smoke occupy the small kitchen area connected to the living room. In the middle of it all was none other than Kiritsugu Emiya holding a spatula of all things.

He turned to me before apologizing with a stoic expression. "Ah, sorry. I was trying to cook dinner."

Seeing his attempt at conjuring a meal, my eyes twitched. I knew he was horrible at kitchen work - as it was repeatedly told in the show, leaving Shirou to do it in his stead - but this was just straight up disastrous. How can one even fail at cooking eggs so badly that it literally got burned into a crisp?

"How about I do it instead?" I kindly suggested. This man should never be placed behind a counter ever again to prevent sudden house fires from happening in the future. Here I thought finding ways to triumph over the upcoming Holy Grail war would take precedence, but it appears the world had other plans for me.

After politely kicking Kiritsugu out of the kitchen and cleaning the wreckage he had created, I took it upon myself to prepare dinner. Thankfully, I wasn't as inept as him in the art of cooking, having lived by myself for many years naturally forced me to learn how to make proper meals.

As we sat across one another at the table, eating our food in silence, I sifted through ways on how to increase my abysmal survival rate in the future, and quickly found a simple solution to that question: Magecraft.

If this body of mine remained true to my memories of the show, the farther the craft strays from the concept of a sword, the more difficult it is for me to comprehend it, leaving me with very little options. However even that wouldn't pose a problem, because unlike the original, I already knew what to do with my limited skill-set.

"Dad?" I paused, wincing a little. It still felt somewhat weird calling someone my own (mental) age 'dad', but I'll get used to it eventually. He turned, facing me with a questioning look. "Can you teach me magecraft?"

He had revealed the existence of mana earlier by using 'Reinforcement', a spell that bolstered a given target's purpose of existence, on himself—increasing his physical strength by two-folds. If I were a normal child to begin with, such phenomenon would pique my interest more than anything else, so he should've expected this outcome.

"No." He shot back immediately, firmly refusing to teach the boy any kind of thaumaturgy,

"Please?" Once again, my request was met with rejection. However, I wouldn't let such setback stop me from getting what I wanted. So for the next couple of minutes, I pestered him on teaching me the art of magecraft until he finally gave in.

"Fine, only after we finish our food." He said with a defeated sigh. I almost let out a shout after hearing his answer, but I reined my excitement in and resumed eating my food with renewed vigour.

Though a little surprised that he caved in pretty easily, you won't find me complaining about it. He'll most-likely only teach me the very basics much like the original, but as stated earlier, it posed little to no problems as long as I master it. If Shirou Emiya (from the show) can do it, then so can I… hopefully.

Later that night, after putting our dishes in the sink, he told me to sit down next to him. Placing his rugged hand on my back, he spoke with a hardened tone. "I'm telling you now, the moment you start this journey, there's no going back, you'll be putting yourself in more danger just by practicing this."

I gave him a simple nod in response. There was no way I was backing out from this as it was the only way for me to possibly avoid the many life-threatening events that are about to come. A cold shiver ran down my spine just from remembering how much strength a single Servant - a hero of past renown summoned to the modern world with the help of an artefact - possessed.

"First off, you need a mental trigger, something to recall whenever you activate your magic circuits, so I want you to imagine an action, like stabbing yourself or breaking something." Quite the morbid thing to tell a child to imagine, but now's not the time to be fixated on that particular detail.

Quietly taking in his words, I pulled my senses inward, imagining two moving swords that produced a flare of sparks upon impact with one another. I could've went for something simpler like the hammer of a gun going off, but swinging swords came more naturally to me.

Possessing Magic Circuits is how one qualifies as a magus, and are needed to employ any form of modern magecraft. It is connected to one's soul and cannot be altered in any way; once destroyed, it remains as such for the rest of one's life. From what I could remember, Shirou Emiya is said to had 27 of these circuits—which was higher than average (20).

Kiritsugu's hand became warmer, followed by the prickling of my skin, then a wave of electricity abruptly spread across my body, causing me to clench my teeth, but the sensation disappeared shortly after. From deep within my very essence, I felt something move in tandem with my thoughts; an intangible force that took whatever shape I wanted it to.

As I drew steady breaths to familiarize myself with the odd feeling persisting all across my form, a translucent screen with written text suddenly appeared before me, startling me somewhat.

[Your Magic Circuits has been opened]

'What?' I stilled, gazing at the interface before me. Is this what I think it is? A tool to aid me in my journey in this world filled with danger and opportunity?

"You alright?" Seeing Shirou's stupefied expression, Kiritsugu asked worriedly after taking his hand off the boy's back. He'd heard that some children went into shock after opening their Magic Circuits for the first time, and he hoped this wasn't the case for his adoptive son.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just a little surprised." I replied calmly to erase his concern. Throwing a swift glance at his face, it appears that he couldn't see the interface that just popped up, saving me the effort of explaining what it was.

Nodding at my words, Kiritsugu told me to head straight to bed for tonight, saying that he'll continue my lessons on magecraft tomorrow after I get used to the mysterious feeling.

END.

 

[Dunno.]

Chapter 2: System.

In my grasp was a kitchen knife the length of my entire forearm. Some might say giving a knife to a 7 year old is irresponsible—and they would be right, but Kiritsugu knows I can handle myself. And god forbid that man be allowed inside a kitchen, he'll just burn everything down without even doing anything.

With a thought, a surge of magical energy covered the sharp object before breaking down into wisps of light just as quickly. I winced at the sudden flood of information being inserted into my brain; its manufacturing process, material composition, and entire history before & after its creation, played like a film inside my head. The amount of detail being crammed into my head could easily incapacitate the average person, but not me.

[Skill 'Structural Analysis' has leveled up]

A translucent screen appeared before me. Upon reading its contents, a smile creeped its way onto my face, before dismissing the interface with a wave of my hand. It wasn't necessary as the System functioned with my thoughts alone, but I still did 'cause why not.

Sheathing the knife, I stepped off the stool I used to reach the counter top and returned to the living room. It had been an entire week since my Magic Circuits were opened, and Kiritsugu still remained in the dark about my newly acquired powers. I pondered about telling him at first, but ultimately decided not to.

After lowering myself on the floor, a single word rolled off my tongue: "System."

———

-Shirou Emiya-

Wanderer of worlds.
- An entity who've broken through another reality.

[You are gifted a System to aid in your journey]

Sword Incarnation.
- A sword given the form of a human.

[Boosted learning efficiency with 'sword' related skills by 800%. Lessened learning efficiency from any other form of magecraft unrelated to a 'sword' by 400%.]

Bearer of Avalon.
- You, who've become one with the sheathe of Excalibur, are blessed with great vitality.

[Increases Vitality by 3 per level up, and amplifies health regeneration by 800% for long as the Player has Avalon equipped.]

Saber-face.
- Given by an entity beyond Man's understanding for the fun of it.

[Those who possess this will bear a great resemblance to none other than Saber.]

Level: 3

STR: 0.7
VIT: 9.3
AGI: 1
MAG: 0.8
Points: 6

Skills:
Cooking (D - 1) - Reinforcement (E - 3) - Structural Analysis (E - 2)

Reality Marble:
Unlimited Blade Works.

Quest:
1,818 days remaining until the next quest.

———

A videogame-like interface, one that's invisible to everyone but myself, answered my call. Not in a million years did I expect to have a System after being reincarnated as Shirou Emiya of all people, but here it was. Like a child on Christmas eve, giddiness lingered over me despite spending an entire week familiarizing with it.

I went over this many times before, studying its features and understanding its effects on my entire being. First of: my body still functioned like normal; sleeping doesn't wisk away any injuries I've sustained, nor does consuming food quicken my regeneration. Second: a point in any parameter corresponds to a single person's. Meaning I, a seven year old, could easily outlast 5 people in an endurance race thanks to Avalon, the Everdistant Utopia.

As for how it was functioning at its maximum capability despite being separated from its rightful owner, King Arthur, I did not know. It probably had something to do with the System's mechanics if I were to guess.

'Skills' were self-explanatory; my abilities and mastery over them. [Saber-face] made my eyebrows rise, why in God's name is it there, was the almighty being who brought me just bored? Anyways, the 'Quest' at the very bottom would remain a mystery until 5 years later, so I can't do much except wait.

While recalling everything I knew about the System, the sliding door leading to the hallway opened, revealing Kiritsugu standing behind it carrying a folder and a small bag in his hands. He acknowledged my presence with a simple nod, to which I returned in kind, before placing the items on the table.

"What's that?" I spoke first, expressing my curiosity.

After making himself comfortable on the cushion, he replied while pushing the bag across the desk. "A new semester is starting in a few days, so I enrolled you to a nearby school and bought everything you needed."

Opening the bag, an arrangement of school supplies could be found inside neatly packed together. A groan almost escaped my lips after seeing them. The idea of reliving school irked me, but there wasn't much I could do to avoid it. I pushed the items aside with a sigh of acceptance, stood up from my seat, and strode towards the kitchen area.

"I'll start preparing lunch, are you fine with rice and omeletes?" I asked, yet received no response. I turned and saw Kiritsugu's unmoving form, a layer of mist seemed to cover his eyes. "Dad?"

Snapped out of his reverie, my adoptive father answers after a short pause. "Oh, sure."

Hearing his delayed response, my lips threatened to curve downward. Was the curse inflicted on him by the source all evil - Angra Mainyu - already taking a toll on him this early on? A weight pressed against my shoulders, causing them to slump. Despite my newfound ability, there wasn't much I could do to avoid his death. Avalon might help, but I doubt it'll do much apart from delaying the inevitable.

In the midst of preparing our afternoon meal, a System notification broke me out of my depressive thoughts.

[Skill 'Cooking' has leveled up]

'How in the—didn't it just rise a rank this morning?' One of the things I've had trouble wrapping my head around for the past few days was the fact that my 'Cooking' skill leveled up faster than my other skills. Why can't the others be that quick? Was this some sort of joke?

After eating lunch with Kiritsugu, I emerge from my home with a small box in my hand containing some food I've prepared prior. I left the periphery and stopped at a crosswalk, and after checking both sides of the road, making sure no heavy-vehicles blind side me to another world, I briskly crossed and entered a familiar residential house I've been visiting for the past few days.

Upon entry, an old man with whitening hair and a robust build for someone his age came into view. He was sitting on a wooden chair while his gaze ran through the newspaper in his grasp. The heels of my shoes produced a noise with each step, catching the man's attention. Hearing my approach, he lowered the papers and glared my in direction, a deadly glint flashing across his eyes. After seeing who it was that neared however, the threatening air around him was heavily subdued.

"Oh, young man. You're here again." He greeted the boy with a nod before pulling his eyes back at the newspapers, having grown used to the child's sudden unannounced visits. "Do you ever get tired of this, helping an old man like me?"

"Hello Soichirou," I bowed slightly then casually replied, "not really, and is it wrong to do so?" I then placed the food container atop the table beside him and unwrapped it from its case. Unable to refuse the food's delicious aroma, he neatly folded the newspaper and took the box off the desk.

He devoured the meal like a starved beast, gaining a chuckle from me. The man before me was Tanaka Soichirou, a veteran who survived World War II before peacefully retiring in Fuyuki. I met him some days after settling into town, and it was through him that I discovered something important. As my growing anticipation reached its peak, a screen appeared in front of me.

[You have completed a side-quest]

A smile captured my lips upon seeing the System notification. I had learned about the existence of "side-quests" after I had cooked way too much food one morning and decided to hand it to Tanaka, who lived nearby and was coincidentally hungry at the time.

I went through a lot of trial and error figuring out the mechanics of these side-quests; ways to trigger it, and how to complete them. It was quite a simple system really, all I had to do was figure out what a person was having trouble with and provide a solution or finish the task for them, and my reward for doing so was experience points with its amount in accordance to the objective's difficulty.

For the next few days after that, I've done nothing but run around town, offering my assistance to anyone I've spotted encountering a problem to the best of my abilities, netting me with enough EXP to level up twice in just 2 days. Tanaka was one of the people who constantly gave me side-quests, providing a steady stream of experience points for me to harvest.

At first I felt bad at taking advantage of the old man's inability to cook for himself, then later realized what I was doing wasn't even harmful in the slightest, rather the exact opposite. He's received perhaps some of the best food he's ever had - his words not mine - for free, while I grow stronger in exhange, a fair trade in my opinion. Some people I've met around town had even given me some treats after recognizing my face, which I took without shame. An adult I might've been, but free treats were free treats.

"You know, kid," Tanaka gulped down the last parcel of rice inside the lunchbox and spoke to me, "Kiritsugu is really lucky to have a child as bright as you."

I let out a stifled giggle at his comment. If you consider having a broken child without an identity of his own, merely following the footsteps of the person he admired, which the original Shirou Emiya most certainly was, then I suppose Kiritsugu Emiya is a lucky man. Now however, with me at the helm, things wouldn't go as fate instructed it to.

----

The morning breeze brushed past my face as I stared at the monolithic structure that loomed a dozen or so meter from me. The chatter of children and adult alike flooded the surroundings, their voices blending into a mix of laughter and excitement as they waved goodbye to one another. At the moment, I was standing alone before a large metal gate which lead to the school my adoptive father had enrolled me in. Speaking of, Kiritsugu couldn't see me off unfortunately, but it mattered little to me.

I entered and walked into the enourmous gym that's the size of a basketball court the preschool of all things possessed, went through the arduous task of staying awake during the entrance ceremony, then entered the bustling halls of my new school and was immediately assaulted by a gaggle of kids asking questions about my unique appearance. Auburn was a rare hair colour in Japan, especially at a time when foreigners were few and far between.

Fairly certain the chances of you finding a ghost was higher than spotting someone who came from another country. Japan during the mid nineties were quite apprehensive towards anyone not of their ilk, but did not treat them harshly and gave them the minimum amount of respect.

It took the majority of my remaining will power to not tell them to screw off. I deftly weaved through the crowd of curious children and headed straight towards my classroom which was just around the corner. Around 15 other kids around my age were already inside, talking about various topics with one another.

My entrance went unnoticed, which I was grateful for, I'm afraid I might just start saying the most traumatizing stuff these toddlers had ever heard if they gang up on me once again. There were no desks specifically assigned to me, so I just took the empty seat at the very back and hoisted my bag at the side before sitting down.

Naturally, I felt out of place. I was a functioning member of society before waking up as Shirou Emiya, while my peers were talking about various television shows, favorite toys, and whatnot—acting like proper 7 year olds. I simply sat in the back and stared wistfully at the cloudless blue sky, plans for the imminent future brewing in my head.

Soon enough, after half an hour of waiting, a teacher dressed in casual garments came into the classroom and introduced herself to the crowd, then encouraged us to do the same with a kind smile of her face. Honestly, their names disappeared to the deepest parts of my brain the second they appeared, forever forgotten till the heat death of the universe.

Next, they spoke of their aspirations; some wanted to be astronauts, musicians, or professional sports players, the usual stuff kids wanted to be but failed to achieve later on in their life.

Truth be told, I could not be bothered to remember any of them. Disassociating myself might be the best course of action so I could focus more on training myself. Though my anti-social attitude might land Kiritsugu a few phone calls here and there from the school, my safety came first and foremost.

----

A young girl dressed in crimson passed through the busy halls with swift and elegant steps, an air of nobility shrouded her form, preventing anyone from halting her gait. Her hair, black as the night itself, were tied into twin-tails which complimented her soft features.

Rin Tohsaka, the lass in red, entered the large garden connected to the cafeteria with her gaze locked in front of her, silently passing by her fellow schoolmates who were interacting with each other.

Upon passing a certain tree however, her stride came to a screeching halt. Rin's teal eyes widen by a small margin as she felt an intangible force crawl up her skin. As the sole successor of the Tohsaka family's magecraft, she was taught in the art of thaumaturgy from a young age and was quite familiar with the peculiar sensation.

'A magus?' Rin thought while training her gaze in the direction of the strange phenomena, which felt awefully similar to a magus operating their magecraft. What were they doing inside a preschool of all places? she asked herself, and came to an answer immediately after; a rogue magus had probably kidnapped a child attending this school to conduct their sick experiments to.

Magi (plural of Magus) were an odd—nay, deplorable bunch, going so far as to commit atrocious acts to further their research on magecraft, indifferent to the lives they've ruined. And as the second owner of Fuyuki - a title passed onto her after her father, the previous owner, had perished - she had to enforce her authority and keep any rogue magus from creating chaos in her territory.

Steeling her nerves, she switched directions and went towards the origin of the disturbance to investigate. However, instead of her worst fears coming to life, what she found was rather mundane.

"You need something?" A boy with a head of red hair asked in a monotone voice, his eyes flashed with a hint of recognition for a brief moment upon seeing her appearance. He was in a seated position, back resting against the sturdy tree, with a pair of chopsticks stuck betwixt his fingers.

"You…" Rin looked down at the item in his grasp—a pair of lunch boxes filled with an assortment of home-cooked meals that released a delectable scent, making her mouth water.

"You want some?" The boy spoke after seeing her stare at his meal - breaking Rin's train of thought - and extended the container in his hand towards her. "Take one, I don't mind."

"Can I?" She responded, wholly tempted by the sweet aroma. 'No wait, what am I doing!' She quickly snapped out of her trance and asked the boy: "You, who are you!"

The redhead merely raised his brows at her question before dropping his arm, calmly placing the lunch box atop his lap, and shifted his legs to a more comfortable position.

"Aren't you supposed to introduce yourself first?" He returned with a grin that irked her more than she thought for some unknown reason. She stilled upon registering his words, a bit embarrassed by her blunder. She was raised better than this, how can she make such a simple mistake?

"I-I am Tohsaka Rin from class A-1." she said while planting her hands on her hips, trying her best to project an image of superiority, intentionally ignoring the stuttering of her voice. The boy was utterly unimpressed by her act, finding it amusing more than anything.

"Emiya Shirou, class B-1. Nice to meet you, Tohsaka." The young girl recognized the name, he was one of the smartest bunch in the whole school, quite mature for his age, and was favoured by many teachers. "So you want one or no?" He said, pushing the savory delight right in front of her once again.

Rin was about to refuse when her stomach let out a loud rumble in protest of her thoughts, causing Rin's face to be dyed cherry-pink with imaginary steam wafting off her head.

"Don't laugh!" She exclaimed, sending the boy a glare that promised violence, completely forgetting about her purpose of coming here in the first place.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Shirou openly chuckled, fueling Rin's piling embarrassment. Deep in his mindscape, he desperately fought off the urge to ruffle the young girl's head.

She let out an audible "Hmph!" before swiftly turning around and walking away without taking a piece of the boy's food despite his openhanded offer.

"Your loss," he shrugged, "you should be more honest next time!" The redhead hollered, his voice echoing throughout the coutyard. In response, the girl in red glowered in his direction just as she was about to turn a corner in. As Rin disappeared from the boy's sight, he let out a relieved sigh.

"That was close... I did not expect her to be here." Shirou whispered to himself while staring at his lunch box. The idea of him being the same preschool with none other than Rin Tohsaka, one of the 3 heroines from Fate/Stay Night, never crossed his mind. So it caught him by surprise when she decided to appear out of nowhere.

Throughout their entire interaction, a cold sweat trickled down his back. The Tohsaka heir had almost caught him using magecraft, but thankfully, he managed to pull the conversation elsewhere before she noticed anything odd. Children are generally pretty easy to distract with other things.

He lifted his legs, revealing a pair of sharp sticks hidden underneath, something most people would discard if found on the side of the road. However, these weren't ordinary tipped sticks, but deadly weapons capable of penetrating flesh with little effort.

How can a twig do so? some may ask. The answer was quite simple—magecraft.

[Skill 'Alteration' has leveled up]

A weak smile made its way across Shirou's lips, his excitement about leveling up one of his skills dampened by the fact he almost got found out due to his carelessness.

Altercation, the ability he'd successfully learned earlier today, as the name suggests, lets him transform and reshape any object within his grasp to however he sees fit. Much like Structural Analysis, Alteration was a skill that stemmed from the only magecraft Kiritsugu had ever taught him; 'Reinforcement'.

He rejoiced at the amount of skills he's picked up over a short time frame. All that was left now was a single skill to complete Shirou Emiya's original skill-set, that being 'Projection', or 'Gradiation Air' as some called it. It was a practice involving the materialization of an object based on the caster's imagination.

While it might sound powerful at a glance, the summoned object would shatter if struck or once a certain amount of time had elapsed, so most magi deemed it useless. With Shirou Emiya's Reality Marble however, Projection became capable of replicating even the most powerful of weaponry mankind had ever seen.

'Honestly, if not for the System, I doubt I'd even have half the skills I have now.' When he first started learning Reinforcement, he struggled to even comprehend the process in manifesting it, until the System registered it as a skill, that is, flooding him with enough knowledge to be considered an amateur of the craft. And with each level up, even more information about the specific ability enters his mind, filling in the blanks.

The System he possessed made learning things way easier, and Shirou was forever grateful for its existence.

"Well, let's finish this up." Shirou Emiya quickened his pace and finished eating his food a few minutes later before making his way back to his classroom.

END.

 

[Dunno.]

Chapter 3: A withering flower.

"Shirou… is it ready yet?" A young woman's tired voice sounded from the living room.

"In a moment, so stop whining." I replied while keeping my hands busy. They danced between countertops, deftly chopping vegetables with practiced precision. The sizzle of onions hitting the hot pan greeted me as I added them, followed by a medley of garlic and peppers.

As the sauce bubbled and thickened, I turned my attention to the main course. Tender cuts of chicken sizzled on the grill, releasing a tantalizing scent that made mouths water. With a flourish, I plated the dish, arranging the colouring vegetables around the succulent chicken.

With a satisfied smile, I dropped down the stool and carried the plates to the table, where a young woman with short brown hair in a high school uniform awaited. As I placed the dish down, her eyes lit up with anticipation, like that of a tiger about to pounce on their prey.

[Skill 'Cooking' has leveled up]

I dismissed the System notification and sat down across from the girl, who took her share with a bowl of rice already in her hands before I could even settle down. She was brimming with energy, her previously depressive mood was nowhere to be seen.

"Thanks for the food!" The young woman exclaimed, clapping her hands together. As the teen eagerly munched down on the fruits of my labour, I, too started feasting, but with much more restraint; eating at a much slower pace.

While doing so, I threw a swift glance at my companion. The girl was none other than Taiga Fujimura, surrogate older sister, future legal guardian of Shirou Emiya, and most important of all, the granddaughter of Raiga Fujimura—the head of an old Yakuza group situated in Fuyuki.

Kiritsugu introduced me to her over a month ago, saying that she was the family of a friend of his, and ever since then she's been visiting me on the regular to eat breakfast. I couldn't blame her, really. If one were to taste the dishes I've made, everything else would seem bland and uninteresting.

Albeit short, our time spent together had been nothing but fun and enjoyable, so I've grown quite attached to her. I welcomed Taiga's presence as much as I do with Kiritsugu's. Soon enough, the two of us finished our food and placed the plates in the sink to be cleaned.

"Ah, that hits the spot." She comments while patting stomach, a content smile plastered on her face. "You know Shirou, you should totally open a restaurant in the future."

"Perhaps, I just might." I answered out loud as my thoughts stirred. 'If nothing ruins my plans for the future, maybe I could.' I turned the faucet off, carefully stored the clean plates, then left the kitchen area only to find Taiga on the wooden floor, slipping into a blissful slumber while muttering incoherent words to herself.

Stealing a glance at the clock stuck against the wall, I spoke. "Hey, Taiga. It's half past 7 already, you better get going if you don't want to be late for school."

"Gah!" She immediately shot up to her feet before grabbing her bag and rushing towards the foyer in undue haste. Her next words made me giggle a bit; "Your food is just way to good, Shirou. I thought I entered heaven for a second!"

I joined her at the entrance and watched in amusement as she struggled to put on her shoes. After finally inserting her feet in, she opened the sliding door and walked into the front yard. She turned, motioning towards me to convey her goodbyes. "Well, see you later, Shirou! Don't go accept candies from random strangers, alright?"

A warm smile spread across my lips as I returned a wave of my own. "I should be the one telling you that with how much of an airhead you are. Be careful out there."

She disappeared into the distance a short while later, leaving me alone inside my not-so humble abode. A sigh escaped my lips upon reaching the living room once again, seriously, this place is way too big for my taste. It especially felt even more empty when my adoptive father, the only other occupant of the house, was absent for the next month or so.

Kiritsugu said he simply had some unfinished business back in Europe, but I knew it wasn't that simple. He was undoubtedly trying his best to rescue his daughter, Illyasviel, from the Einzbern family. And he would repeatedly fail until his body deteriorated due the curses ingrained onto it, depriving Kiritsugu of his ability to employ magecraft and weakening him greatly.

As for me, school had been suspended for the next 3 days, something along the lines of pipes being broken—the reason already disappeared from my mind. The only thing I took out from this was that I had more time to master my magecraft and harvest EXP from random strangers.

Unknown to Shirou however, Rin Tohsaka, after sensing the presence of a magus, decided to postpone school activities using her authority as the Second Owner in order to investigate it, but she would find nothing but disappointment in the future.

"Well, I've got nothing better to do." Changing into a more comfortable set of apparels consisting of a red sweater and dark shorts, I left my home and went to the market to assist anyone I could find in order to complete side-quests. At the moment, only about a dozen or so experience points were needed in order for me to graduate from the fifth level, and I was hoping to accomplish it by today.

----

"Just place it over there, Shirou." A man with jet-black hair directed me to a corner. I followed his instructions and gently planted the cardboard box in my arms atop another.

The very second the package left my hands, a transparent partition appeared before my eyes, signaling the end of a side-quest, which was followed up by another screen that I was most eager to see.

[You have leveled up]

'Yes!' My mind raced. It had been some time since I've begun helping people out, and my level had finally risen.

As it was early in the morning, there were still some people that were opening their shops, and I was there to aid them no matter how small it was. Need help cleaning your store front? or perhaps some trash needed to be thrown out? You bet I'm helping. Even something as little as arranging furniture rewarded me with a bit of experience points, so I did them since it literally takes no time to do so.

"Good work, Shirou. That's all for today." The same man entered the scene with a friendly smile on his face. "You should take a break, I don't wanna be the one who gets blamed if you all of the sudden dropped dead due to exhaustion."

"I'm good, I can easily go for a few more hours." I casually replied. Oh boy, if he only knew how much I eclipsed him in pure stamina. With the amount of points Vitality currently had, I could continue working for many hours straight without taking a single break.

"Well okay, if you want, go take a beer from—" His next words failed to manifest as he noticed a young woman dressed in green appear behind the red-haired boy's back. A look of terror quickly spread across his face upon recognizing who it was.

I turned my head, facing the new addition to our conversation. A ring could be found fitted on one of her fingers and a similar one could be seen on the man's, signifying their relationship.

"What were you going to give him, dear?" She stood at the elevated doorway, a hint of madness whirling within her eyes as she looked down at her significant other.

"Uh," he paused for a moment before squeaking out a single word: "beer?"

"You are giving a child… beer. What are you thinking?" A frown marred her otherwise beautiful face upon hearing his honest answer. An air of oppression radiated off from her as she crossed her arms below her chest.

"Go man the register, now." She commanded, to which her partner obeyed without asking questions, lest he suffer her unbridled wrath. After seeing him off, she then turned to me with a different aura altogether. Her features had softened, and her eyes no longer sharp as a blade.

Gone were the crushing air surrounding her being, and was instead replaced by a motherly presence that brought safety and warmth to anyone near it. Honestly, it was scary how she could switch from one to another so seamlessly without any prior indication.

"Are you alright, Shirou? He didn't make you do anything too much for you, did he?" She worriedly asked while giving my form a once-over. Unbeknownst to her, I could probably win a fist-fight against most adults as I am right now, so her worries were unwarranted, but she didn't need to know that of course.

"Don't worry, he didn't. And please don't be too harsh on him, I was the one to wanted to help." I replied with a bright smile to ease her concerns for my well-being.

"You're such a kind child, aren't you?" The woman took out a small food container from God knows where and handed it to me. "Here, take this. Don't forget to eat or you'll grow up thin and skinny, alright?"

Accepting her gift, she then gently caressed the top of my head, which I did not mind. It still annoyed me at certain times, but I was gradually getting used to my physical age and how people treated me because of it.

With that, I left the couple's store, was kindly greeted by a lot of people, and made my way towards the nearby park then settled down on a wooden bench. My legs swayed back and forth, humming joyously as I opened the plastic container—which bore an assortment of freshly prepared sandwiches. One of them quickly found its way into my mouth, a small bite having been taken out of it.

While indulging myself, my eyes caught sight of a young girl's sleeping figure below a large tree. She slumbered in a seated position, her form gently slanted to the side, resting against the sturdy trunk for stability. She possessed a head of silky purple hair, donned a simple muted dress, and looked a year younger than me.

Out of the blue, my chest begun to twist in pain before disappearing just as quickly. My vision refused to process anything else apart from the child's figure.

Unable to hold my curiosity any longer, I slid off my seat, walked right in front of her slumped body, and lowered myself to the ground. My approach produced a noise loud enough to be captured by the girl's senses, causing her mind to jolt awake.

Stirred from her sleep, she slowly opened her eyes to reveal a pair of amethyst-coloured irises that stared back into mine. Upon closer inspection, I notice that her gaze appeared listless, as if a layer of mist clouded her vision.

"Hello there, are you alright?" Unconsciously, my voice came out rather tender. For some reason I could not put my finger on, a sense of protectiveness overwhelmed me.

The girl continued to stare into my eyes instead of providing an answer, forcing me to act in order resume the conversation. I placed the sandwiches between us and incentivized her to take one. "Go on, take one. I don't mind."

She tilted her head slightly, looking a the box with curiosity for a while, before reaching out to pick one. She placed the food next to her mouth then took a small bite, and to my surprise, a hint of life flared from within her blank eyes before swiftly dissipating into nothingness, causing my chest to knot tightly.

She took another bite, but to my disappointment, not a smidgen of light appeared within her gaze. I patiently waited for her finish her sandwich before saying; "I'm Emiya Shirou, you are?"

After a minute of silence, she opened her mouth to speak. "I'm Toh—" she stopped before correcting herself, "Matou… Sakura."

A frown threatened to replace the smile on my lips. Truthfully, I had my suspicions, but hearing it directly from her caused an even heavier weight to grapple onto my heart. I dropped my head, glaring at the flowing grass beneath while biting my lower lip.

She was Sakura Matou, one of the main heroines of the story, and was perhaps the saddest character throughout the series, undeserving of the suffering she had went through. Sakura had originally been part of the Tohsaka family, but was given to the Matous by her father at a young age, essentially abandoning her, and forcing the poor girl into a life of untold pain and misery due to the machinations of Zouken Matou.

"I see," I raised my head and looked at Sakura, "oh, you have some bits on the corner of your mouth, let me get rid of them."

I pulled out a handkerchief from my pocket and cleaned the foodstuff off her face while doing my best rein in the rage bubbling within me. She didn't react to my sudden physical touch, merely staring at me with a mix of apathy and confusion.

"Hey, how about we play together at my house? It's pretty cozy there." People would've taken my words differently if I were an adult talking to a child, my next actions evermore so; I did not wait for the purple-haired girl to answer and rose to my feet, wrapped my hand around her's, then gently pulled her up to stand.

Sakura was startled to say the least, yet did not do much to separate from my hold. What I was about to do was literally kidnapping, but I could not care any less, my mind was occupied with nothing but thoughts of rescuing the ill-fated girl.

Keeping our hands intertwined with one another, I turned and started walking with Sakura in tow, who offered little to no resistance to my pull. My actions were slow and steady, as if she were a delicate piece that would shatter at the slightest touch.

Emerging from the park, the two of us crossed many streets and passed through various crowds. Along the way, I could not help but throw a glance at everyone who neared, in fear that one of them would suddenly jump and take away the frail girl at my side.

Thankfully, we arrived at the Emiya residence without any problems—well, apart from the weird and expectant looks some of the adults who knew me were giving, there was nothing to worry about.

The entrance was clean and tidy, not a speck of tarnish was visible. Seeing this, a sense of pride swelled within me. It was a herculean task and a half to clean the entire mansion by myself, with a child's height no-less, but the end result was all worth it. Besides, the intense labour did wonders in increasing my stats.

Reaching the living room, I told Sakura to get comfortable however she liked and opened the television to occupy her mind for the time being, while I made my way towards the kitchen with shaky steps. It was incredibly idiotic of me, a completely irrational decision—I knew that, but my mind could not think of anything else at the moment.

The moment I decided to help Sakura, a scythe loomed over my shoulders, primed to lop my head off at any moment. Alas, I had revealed my existence to Zouken Matou, Sakura's adoptive grandfather and the man behind her torment. His main body - a worm he'd transferred his soul into via magecraft - should have already been planted beside Sakura's heart, giving me no choice but to confront the old maggot himself when he makes an appearance in the future.

'I should've thought this more thoroughly…' A whirlwind occupied my head at the time, preventing me from forming a coherent thought. There was a myriad of ways to handle this situation if I only thought more rationally, but there was no going back now.

To remove the turbulent thoughts forming in my head, I started preparing the best meal I could feasibly create with my current skills for the two of us to eat. With practiced hand, I seasoned an arrangement of mackerel fillets with a blend of herbs and spices before placing them over lit stove, the hiss of the fish echoing in the room.

With a gentle clatter, I transferred the golden-brown fillets onto a large platter and turned to the table where Sakura sat, who watched my actions with slight interest, then laid out the mackerel with care. She stared at the food for a moment, taking in the delicious aroma, then shot me a look as if asking for permission to continue, to which I positively gestured.

Shoving a piece of mackerel into her mouth, vitality appeared within her languid gaze which lasted for a whole second before going away. She ate slowly at first, but gradually increased her pace and finished her meal at the same time as I did.

As the night chased away the sun, blanketing the sky with darkness, Sakura pulled her attention away from the TV screen and tried to return back to that abominable place she called a home, but reluctantly stayed over for the night after a short discussion with me. More than happy to accommodate her, I lead Sakura to an empty room situated beside mine and gave her a futon to sleep on.

Later inside my room, I sat on the floor with my legs crossed, a thoughtful look on my my face. My first idea was to contact Kirei Kotomine - a priest of the Church - and ask for help on this matter, but immediately tossed that idea overboard. He would pose even more of a problem if he catches a whiff of my existence, that emotionless man wanted nothing more than cause pain to people.

An hour later, my mind all but failed to come up with a plan of action, causing me to drag my hands down my face in utter exasperation. With a defeated sigh, I ceased my current thoughts, deciding to leave it up for tomorrow, then crashed into bed. For now, there was nothing I could do other than hope for the best.

I gazed to my left, staring at the thin wall separating my room from Sakura's. "I'll keep you safe… I promise." I made a silent vow before entering a deep slumber.

----

On the other room, Sakura rested peacefully on her bed, blankly looking at the ceiling with her gem-like eyes. Unlike the pit of worms below the Matou manor, where Zouken Matou told her to lie inside of daily, the soft matress underneath her back was heavenly. It wasn't painful, much more comfortable, and there was not a single grub on sight to breach her insides or emerge from it.

Despite staying at a complete stranger's home, she was calm, and perhaps a little glad by this development. She had wanted to escape that chasm of filth, scream out for help, but she knew nobody would offer a hand to someone unclean as her. What would happen if this boy, Shirou Emiya, find out the truth about her? She was afraid that he might leave her like everyone else, dwindling what little hope she had left.

When they first met on that park, she could see it; deep within his amber eyes, the desire to save her shone brighter than everything else. 'But why?' She asked herself. She was a failure, even her own father abandoned her, what does he see in her that compelled him to do what he did? It was probably a lie; the concern he showed, the smile he sported, he must've showed that to everyone, she wasn't anyone special.

Truthfully, she began to think that this might not even be real in the first place, perhaps she was still stuck inside of that deplorable pit, being indoctrinated by her grandfather, and had merely started hallucinating to escape from the pain.

Even if this were indeed a dream, Sakura hoped for it to never end.

END.

 

[Dunno.]

Chapter 4: Training.

The bell sung its melodic tune, signaling the end of today's school activities. Thankfully, I wasn't on cleaning duty, so I was allowed to leave immediately. Many of the students barreled out of the gates and ran into their guardians, while I continued walking without giving any of them a smidgen of attention.

My pace gradually increased with each corner I turned. My steps were slow and steady at first, but it eventually turned into a full-blown sprint the moment my figure was out of everyone's sight. For some odd reason I could not put my finger on, a foreboding feeling washed over my being, telling me to rush back home this instance.

I surged through secluded alleyways, vaulted over obstacles while doing my best to remain undetected, and arrived at my house a minute later. Having the combined agility of 3 people and the stamina of 15 certainly made my journey back way easier, I was practically a superhuman already despite not even allocating a single stat point yet.

Upon reaching the Emiya residence, my movement came to an abrupt halt. A freezing hand gripped my heart as I trained my gaze at the shady figure standing by the entrance; it was a bald man with a hunched back, the creases on his face showing his age. He wore a plain set of robes, a walking stick in his grasp, and was surrounded by a revolting air that elicited unconditional hatred with just a glance.

'Zouken Matou.' My mind flared with recognition, the old maggot who pushed Sakura into a decade of pain was standing right before me. He remained oblivious to my presence and stared at the young girl by the doorway, who trembled as if an earthquake had accosted her entire body.

Without a second thought, I bolted forward and placed myself in front of the terrified girl, my arm hovered protectively over Sakura as I sent the old magus a sharp glare. His eyes widen slightly, taken aback by my sudden appearance, but quickly recovered and switched his gaze towards me, scrutinizing my form in utter silence.

The atmosphere around us slowly became unbearable for me as we continued our impromptu staring contest. A tinge of hostility formed within my gaze after recalling the unforgivable sins the old man had committed against Sakura and the others that came before her.

Zouken Matou cared for no one except himself and was a monster in human skin, literally; his body was nothing more than a swarm of worms that, when destroyed, could reform itself by devouring humans, making him pseudo-immortal. The only way to effectively kill him was to eliminate his main body which resided next to Sakura's heart, something I've been planning to do.

"You," I initiated, unable to take the silence any longer, "what are you doing here?" He let out a hum, seemingly confused by my accusatory tone, before opening his mouth to speak.

"You know me, boy? I don't remember meeting a child like you before this." The magus replied, tapping the ground with his cane. His voice was jarring; grating my ears with each word.

"No, I don't. But you look like you came straight out of my nightmares." I spat out in discontent, letting my thoughts about him known.

"An honest youth, you are." He barked a laugh, not taking the boy's insult to heart. Staring into the boy's eyes, Zouken found something interesting. Burried deep within the mountain of scorn, a blinding wish to protect shone more beautifully than anything else, bemusing the old man.

'What could have possibly drove this child into harbouring such strong feelings?' He questioned himself before looking behind the boy and quickly found the source of this desire—his adopted granddaughter. Sakura averted her eyes from meeting Zouken's and grasped the edges of the redhead's uniform, granting her a sense of safety and comfort she's never had before.

He did not know how, but it seems the boy had an inkling of what he's done to the girl and decided to intervene. Zouken didn't even suspect Sakura of asking for help. He originally wanted to get rid of the child after he made his appearance and take Sakura back by force, but he changed his mind upon seeing her inclination towards the peculiar boy. An opportunity to break her state of mind even further had graciously presented itself in front of him, why wouldn't he take advantage of it?

Out of the blue, a sinister smile crept up to the old magus' lips that sent a cold shiver down my spine. The disgusting aura permeating off him was magnified by two-fold before vanishing just ask quickly, almost making me take a step back in fright.

'What the hell is this old maggot up to now?' My brain stirred; thinking of ways to escape this situation if an altercation were to suddenly erupt. However, his next words stopped this train of thought.

"I see... enjoy your time with him, granddaughter of mine. Be sure to take care of yourself." Zouken chuckled and took a step back. "I can see that my presence is unwanted here, I'll be out of my way."

He turned around then started walking away without giving us a second glance. 'What? That's it?' I stared at Zouken Matou's retreating figure in bewilderment. Soon enough, he left the compound without issues, leaving Sakura and I alone at the foyer.

Sensing his presence disappear into the distance, I faced the girl behind me and inquired worriedly. "Sakura, are you okay? He didn't do anything to you, did he?"

I quickly scanned her form, ensuring that not a single abnormality - apart from what I already knew - could be found on her body. Thankfully, it seems Zouken Matou didn't do anything harmful to her before I arrived.

"No-no… he just told me to go home, he didn't do anything…" Her voice lost its vigour after each word she spoke. I swiftly pulled her into a comforting hug, to which she returned after a bit of hesitation.

"Don't worry. I'm here, I won't leave you." At my reassurance, she eventually stopped shaking and relaxed in my arms. We ended our embrace some time later and went inside the house. I watched the door intently as we walked, as if expecting someone to go throught it, but nobody did.

As I began preparing a simple dish, Sakura surprised me by asking if she could help. Knowing it would distract her from her recent meeting with her grandfather, I welcomed her into the kitchen. Being a complete novice, Sakura clumsily handled the kitchenware and made a few mistakes. Instead of reprimanding her, I patiently guided and encouraged her, hoping to lift her spirits.

By the time we finished our meal, the sun had vanished, casting the world into darkness. Sakura retreated to her room for some rest, while I stayed behind to wash the dishes.

Lost in my thoughts, I remained in the living room, keeping watch over the manor throughout the night by expanding my senses to detect any form of disturbances. Fueled by paranoia, I had ended up staying up all night, but fatigue failed to encroach my mind thanks to my superhuman stamina.

Only when the morning rays streamed through the windows did I snap out of my trance. First thing I did was check on Sakura, and found her still asleep within her room. A sense of relief washed over me, albeit tinged with lingering caution.

Satisfied that the night had passed without incident, I began preparing for today's activities.

----

A week after encountering Zouken Matou, with nothing amiss happening, the weak pings of a chime entered my ears as I sauntered into the common room. A moment later, Kiritsugu Emiya opened the sliding door and entered the scene, his shoulders were a little slouched and a mask of impassiveness covered his face as usual.

I'm guessing he had failed to rescue his daughter from the Einzberns, and would probably make an attempt again after recovering from his injuries. He might not show it, but I could tell he pertained some nasty wounds from how differently he conducted his movements.

"Oh, hey dad. Welcome back." I greeted him, to which he responded with a nod before taking his coat off and placing them to the side. Only after doing so did he finally take notice of another figure, a young girl with purple hair, sitting next to me.

"Who's this? a friend of yours?" Truthfully, Kiritsugu didn't expect Shirou to bring anyone over to their home with how distant he treated everyone apart from himself and Taiga, so he was a little curious who it could be.

"This is Matou Sakura." Said girl addressed Kiritsugu by lowering her head, but otherwise stayed quiet and allowed me to continue. "She has nowhere to go right now, so she's staying here for the time being."

The surname Shirou had spoken piqued the Magus Killer's interest, he sifted through his memories and recalled the basic information he had on them. The Matous were one of the three founding families - the others being Tohsaka and Einzbern - who gave birth to the Heaven's Feel ritual, also known as the Holy Grail war; a blood sport that he, himself had taken a part of some time ago for a chance to realize his wish, only to attain nothing but destruction.

"Care to explain?" He sent a cursory glance at the young girl and gave me a questioning look. Having dispatched a multitude of magi throughout his life, Kiritsugu possessed an air of oppression that made one falter just by being in his sight.

I steeled my nerves and successfully pushed through the crushing atmosphere. "What do you mean?"

"I have told you not to engage with any of the magus families staying here, yet you still did." His tone then shifted, and his face became more earnest. "You never know what those magi are up to, it's best to steer away from their kind."

True, he has repeatedly instilled the cruelty of those attuned with the supernatural into my head and told me not to interact with them in any way shape or form, and I agree with that notion. Magi weren't the kindest bunch and would eliminate anyone who even accidentally stumbles upon a lick of magecraft—but Sakura was a special case that I couldn't possibly ignore.

"But I couldn't leave her alone in that decrepit place, do you even know what that old maggot was doing to her? That fucking monster is making his familiars eat her Magic Circuits, violating her with those worms almost everyday!" Each word I spat out carried the sharpness of a blade.

"Hm?" Not once had he heard Shirou raise his voice before, always sounding indifferent to those around him, so he was genuinely taken aback by the boy's small outburst. Kiritsugu ignored his casual use of profanity and asked: "And how do you even know that? Did go into their home? Willingly venturing into a magus' workshop, a space they have full control over, is one of the most dangerous things you could do, Shirou."

His eyes turned into slits, the air surrounding us becoming colder by the second. His instincts as the Magus Killer, a name feared by many in the world of Mysteries, flared into life, causing the ends of my hair to stand in alarm. Realizing his misunderstanding, I decided to clear the air.

While keeping the System's existence hidden, I revealed my ability to analyze anything and even catch a glimpse of their history, explaining that this very skill is what allowed me to discover what was happening inside Sakura's body. It was a lie, of course. Revealing the real truth would simply spawn more questions. What was I even supposed to say? that they were nothing more than fictional characters in my eyes until some time ago?

Sakura on the side became more demure, an aura of depression surrounded her form the more she heard the boy speak. She wanted to keep it a secret, she wished that he never found out about how dirty she was, but it seems Shirou already knew from the start. She waited for him to push her away, throw words of disgust in her direction for what she truly was, but it never did. He still accepted her despite the filth she's been tainted with. She's seen him deliver unparalleled kindness to everyone he met, but the moment it happens to involve her, he'll drop everything to be at her side, which sparked a fire within her static heart.

Unbeknownst to her, a hand covered in utter blackness once again extended itself, but refused to interact with anything as if unsure of its decision, before ultimately retreating. It remained vigilant however, its claws ready to pounce at the boundless emptiness when needed.

Kiritsugu was surprised to say the least and was quite skeptical of my claims, having the ability to glean into an item's past was unheard of. Kiritsugu quickly concluded that it was an advanced form of Structural Analysis I had somehow developed, but still didn't believe the full extent of my words much to my annoyance.

"That particular spell cannot possibly go that far—" He tried to refute my application of Structural Analysis, but I quickly opened my mouth and talked over him.

"But mine does. I've seen what that old coot has done to her and I'm not going to let it be." I met his hardened gaze with my determined glare, then declared: "I'll protect her. For long as I breathe, Sakura will receive the happiness she deserves."

Sakura, who was doing her best to minimize her presence by holding her head down, couldn't help but squirm in her seat and fought down the heat in her cheeks. A small smile made it across her lips, which stuck for the next few minutes. She remembered the days they've spent together, which brought her nothing but joy. The walls she's constructed around herself to separate from others creaked, opening a path for a single person to pass through—Shirou. If Sakura really delved into wishful thinking, she hoped for Shirou to continue being that way.

Seeing my firm stance on the matter, Kiritsugu relented with a sigh before asking something unexpected. "I want you to answer my next question truthfully, Shirou. If you were to pick between two sinking ships, one with 100 people while the other has 10, which one would you save?" Truth be told, the retired hitman was worried the boy had a bad case of survivor's guilt, leading Shirou to value himself less.

"Depends who's on it. If someone I care about is on those ships, then I'll do everything in my power to rescue them." I replied without missing a beat. "Even if it results in me getting hurt, I'll do it if it meant their safety."

"What about the other passengers on those ships? Do you think you can help them in time?" He reminded Shirou about the presence of other people, thinking it would make the boy pause even for a little while, but he was dead wrong.

"I missed the part where that's my problem." I answered in the most straightforward tone I could muster. As much as they aren't responsible for my life, I'm not responsible for theirs. Not that I'm completely indifferent to people's lives, but when forced to pick between a stranger and a loved one, I'm choosing the latter without hesitation.

The Magus Killer's eyes widened by a margin in reaction to the boy's words, seemingly caught off guard by them. He stayed quiet as the memories of his mentor, the one who taught him everything, and his wife, the woman who brought him even a sliver of happiness, resurfaced from the darkest pits of his mindscape, both of whom Kiritsugu ended with his own hands in favour of saving the majority, because that's what a hero does, no?

Regret slowly swelled within him; his chest becoming more tighter, vision turning hazy. Had he chosen those who he knew instead of a faceless crowd, he wouldn't be in the abyss he had found himself in today, he would've been happy. He was a person with a beating heart, yet possessed the mind of a machine—an ill-fated combination. The only thing that kept him from breaking down was the boy he's speaking to at this moment and the faint chance of seeing his daughter once again.

Kiritsugu snapped out of his reverie and took a book from his bag then slid it across the table, stopping right in front of me. It appeared worn with scratches here and there, yet well taken care off. There wasn't a label on its cover or anything, just a plain book you'd find anywhere.

"What's this?" I asked, wrapping my hands around the seemingly ordinary object. It was thick, for my current size anyway, and casted an arcane feel.

"An introductory book about Bounded Fields, go read it later. You want to protect Sakura, right?" He answered, motioning towards the sheepish young girl beside me. "Then I'll give you the means to do so starting tomorrow."

My brows to rose a tad, I would've never thought he'd breach the topic without me asking him. And so, my tutelage under the renowned Magus Killer begun.

----

A few weeks had passed since then, and my lessons went along swimmingly. Currently, Kiritsugu and I stood in front of one another inside the shed situated behind the main building.

"You see, Shirou, using your Magic Circuits raises the temperature of your body. Even if you can't detect them using your senses, you can still pinpoint a magus' location using modern technology, something the majority of magi overlook, don't forget that." He handed me an infrared scope and laid his forearm bare for me to inspect.

My mind quickly stored the information. Magi weren't the best when it came to modern technology, deeming them inferior to the miracles of magecraft, so having a way to detect their kind without tipping them off was a great boon to have. Cameras, due to their non-magical origins, would effortlessly slip past even a trained magus' senses.

I placed the scope over my right eye and peeked through it, staring at Kiritsugu's arm with interest. With my natural senses, I felt something in the air stir; an ethereal force manifested from nothing and gently wrapped itself around his forearm. While in the infrared scope, his arm began to glow an iridescent orange, displaying the sudden change in temperature. Shortly after, the invisible energy turned back into a state of nonexistence, and so did abnormal readings shown by the scope.

I removed the object from my face and heard Kiritsugu speak. "With this, it's easy to track a magus if you ever lose them in a crowd or an unfavorable environment. That's it for now about magical energy. Time to move on to the next."

He then took a unassuming briefcase off a shelf and placed it in between us. With a satisfying click, the box opened to reveal a handgun—more specifically, a standard Baretta M9, along with an extra set of magazines laying beside it.

My brows furrowed upon seeing the case's contents. It hasn't even been a month since we started, the only thing I've learned so far were the intricate mechanics of Bounded Fields, a few practical spells that could potentially give me an edge over my opponent, and how magical energy affected the human body, and now we're tackling another topic entirely.

I activated my skill and watched as a wave of magical energy glossed over the item, before swiftly dissipating after completing its task. From what my Structural Analysis gave me, the firearm was made a few months back, bought using less than legal means, and was carefully smuggled into the land of the rising sun (Japan) from the land of the free (America).

"Now that I've taught you how to identify them, it's time I teach you how to kill them." He said bluntly. Both of us ignored the fact that he was about to teach a child how to commit murder.

'He's teaching me how to use a gun this early?' Excitement swelled from within as I carefully took the pistol from its place. Not a tinge of worry marred Kiritsugu face as he watched me do so, he'd already taught me how to handle a firearm and could be trusted around such objects.

The two of us then emerged from the shack and stood at the open yard. The place was eerily silent, the sounds of ruffling leaves and morning breeze being the only perceivable noise.

"Is this fine? The neighbours would definitely hear if I shoot this thing." I relayed my concern. Even if we live in a pretty isolated part of town, the sound of a gun going off wouldn't go unnoticed, the cops would undoubtedly swarm this place almost instantly.

"I've already set up a Bounded Field to stop loud sounds from leaving the backyard, and there's no need to worry about Sakura, she'll be fine inside the house." Kiritsugu reassured. It seems he's already thought about it, as expected I suppose. He then lifted his arm, pointing at the bright circular target placed at the end of the yard. "Aim, then shoot. You'll be doing this every other day for the next month until I say otherwise."

With a heave, I raised my arms and held the firearm forward, peeking through its iron-sights with my right eye. My breath stilled and the surrounding noise disappeared, my attention fully engrossed at my current objective.

With a pull of my finger, a loud bang erupted from the pistol, causing my ears to ring a sharp tune which lasted for a few seconds before returning to normal. The gun was forced backward due to recoil, but my firm grip prevented it from flying off. To nobody's surprise, the target in the distance remained untouched; the bullet having missed it by an entire meter to the left, burying itself deep into nearby the concrete wall.

Instead of wallowing at my terrible accuracy, anticipation rose from within. Not a moment later, a transparent screen that's invisible to anyone but myself made an appearance.

[Skill 'Firearms mastery' has been learned]

A stream of information suddenly entered my conciousness; basic knowledge about firearms usage and maintenance work filled my brain. It took a moment, but I eventually acclimated with my newfound instincts and entered another trance. I assumed a firing stance and pulled the trigger, this time however, the result was considerably better than the last.

The edge of the target was struck, but I didn't stop there. I lined up my sights once more and fired, again and again, causing a burst of loud bangs to echo throughout the space. At the corner of my vision, the progress bar of my newly acquired skill steadily increased with each bullet that left the gun's barrel. My ears ultimately got used to the piercing noise and my skills with the weapon improved at a visible pace.

[Skill 'Firearms mastery' has leveled up]

I dismissed the notification and deftly removed the empty magazine, letting it fall to the ground, then swiftly replaced it with the grace of a trained soldier. Kiritsugu's surprise grew as he watched me hit the target's center multiple times in a row while only making a margin amount of error.

The Magus Killer's stunned state didn't last long however, as the lesson plans he had created for Shirou began to shift to accommodate his seemingly supernatural ability to handle firearms. It appears he'd underestimated the boy's drive to protect Sakura, who knew he had such hidden potential within him.

'If I train him, he might be able to rescue… no. There's no need to bring him into my problems.' Kiritsugu shook off his current thoughts and went back to observering Shirou. After the boy emptied 5 magazines, Kiritsugu promptly stopped their session and went back to the house in order to modify his plans for the coming months.

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.

"Trace on." Following those words, a blue spark appeared atop my open palm that quickly took the form of a small knife, which appeared similarly to the one we had inside the kitchen, even down the little nicks and chips on it.

[Skill 'Projection' has been learned]

"Haha! I finally did it!" I cheered, jumping onto my feet and pumping my fist in the air. With this, all the skills required to replicate Noble Phantasms has been assembled, all it needs now was to master them. In the heat of my celebration, I did not notice Sakura enter my room.

"Um, Is everything alright?" Her voice was weak, but laced with worry for my well-being.

"Oh…uh, yeah. I'm fine, just a little excited that's all." Thrown out of my joyous moment, I replied with welcoming smile to ease her concerns.

Nodding with a hint of red on her face, she then brought out a plate of omeletes for me to eat. I gently pat Sakura on the head and gave her my heartfelt thanks.

END.

 

[Dunno.]

Chapter 5: Time skip.

In the secluded yard of the Emiya residence, a small workshop, formerly an ordinary shed turned smithy, hummed with rhythmic clang of metal against metal. Inside, a young man with crown braided auburn hair worked diligently, his hands moved expertly shaping glowing metal into the form of a straight blade—a two-sided broadsword.

The forge roared with intense heat as he poured his heart and soul into the sword, channeling the wisdom he's accumulated throughout the years with each precise movement. Sweat beaded on his brow, yet he pressed on, his hands steady and sure as he shaped the broadsword's deadly, yet elegant edge.

Magical energy begun to swirl around the young man's form as his undying desire to cut the intangible was projected into the blade itself, manifesting into something real. The weapon lets off a weak shimmer, capturing his wish, and started to develop an ability of its own.

With a final flourish, he quenched the blade in water, the hiss of steam echoing through the silent space. And as the first light of dawn painted the sky, the young man stepped back, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of his creation.

As he wiped the sweat off his face using a clean towel, an ever familiar screen appeared before his eyes, resulting in a smile to cross his face.

[Enchantment 'Inferior soul slash' has been added to the item]

"Haha! Yes!" I exclaimed. After many failed attempts, I had finally succeeded in crafting a blade that could rend not just flesh, but the soul itself, albeit imperfectly. Some tweaking still needed to be done for it to be completed. As for why I require such a thing, it's for a certain old magus that refused to die through natural means.

Satisfied with my recent creation, I wrapped a pristine cloth around it and carefully stored it away before extinguishing the dancing flames of the forge. Emerging from my small smithy, I entered the manor and cleansed myself of filth with a hot shower.

After changing into some fresh clothing and donning a red apron upon reaching the kitchen, a single word left my lips: "System."

———

Shirou Emiya

Title(s):

Wanderer of worlds.
Sword Incarnation.
Bearer of Avalon.
Saber-face.
Fuyuki's Helping Hand.
(-Collapse-)

Level: 17

STR: 5.6 (+3)
VIT: 55 (+3)
AGI: 14.5 (+3)
MAG: 6 (+3)
Points: 41

Skills:
(-Expand-)

Quest:
3 days remaining until the next quest.

———

Five years had passed since my reincarnation into the world of Fate/Stay Night, and a lot had happened during that time. First of, my level; I have reached the 17th level through side-quests alone, and had stalled on it for the past 3 months with little to no progress being done; helping random strangers just wasn't enough anymore. An alternative was needed, but I have yet to find any.

So, I placed my attention elsewhere—blacksmithing. I took up the craft a few years ago and had created over hundred blades with the sole purpose of making a weapon that could strike the soul.

Forging a sword that could hurt one's inner-self was an incredible feat in itself, something most smiths could only dream of, however, I wasn't satisfied with that. My goal was something even more grand—creating a weapon that could dissect the fabric of reality itself. Any swordsmith worth their salt should strive to make a blade that could not only slash the material, but the abstract as well. Unfortunately, that's for another time as my current skills with the forge cannot possibly reach such heights. Perhaps I could even create an item to call my own, something people would associate with nobody but myself in the future.

Second: the newly acquired title, obtained after helping people with their problems for half-a-decade straight. It's effect was pretty easy to understand; my entire parameters sheet receives a slight boost whenever I'm inside Fuyuki. It might not sound much, but that's four whole levels (a level up rewards 3 stat points) given to me for simply standing within the city borders.

On that note. Despite having yet to allocate a single point into my stats, my physical prowess - without the aid of magecraft - already surpassed every normal human being on this planet. Thanks to Avalon's miraculous powers, sleep became nothing more than an enjoyable pastime. Meaning most of my time, excluding school activities, was spent either hanging out with Sakura or honing my abilities from the break of dawn till the dead of night.

Speaking of Sakura, she started going to school as well. I was completely against the idea at first, feeling a sense of doom at the thought of leaving her unprotected, but eventually got over it so she could experience what it was like to be a child. I still watched her closely, picking her up from school everyday, just in case something does happen. Zouken made no attempts on us so far, and this inactivity had brought me nothing but worry. What was he concocting in that rotten brain of his?

Well, no matter. I've already collected everything that was needed to take the old maggot down, all that's left now was to enact judgement. Five whole years was enough time to prepare, and his dismissive attitude towards me only worked greatly in my favour. It was only a matter of time.

Back to whatever I was currently doing. My hands practically moved on their own without my input; the vegetables were cut, the meat was seasoned and perfectly cooked before being plated, a good chunk of it was placed on the side and packed inside a plastic container. Bending forward, I opened the oven which caused hot air to spew out directly into my face, but I remained unperturbed and took out a bunch of freshly baked cookies from within, then arranged them in a small basket. Satisfied, I unwrapped the apron from my waist and headed out of the house with the packed foodstuff in my hands.

After crossing some roads, I arrived at a familiar residential abode—Tanaka Soichirou's home. Without even knocking, I swung the front door open and went in, dropping my slippers off by the entrace. This place was practically my second home at this point with how frequent I've visited here, mostly to deliver Tanaka lunch or dinner. Out of habit, my steps were swift and silent and the magical energy being emitted by my body was so miniscule, a magus would've mistaken it for a random animal.

Inside the common room, the television was turned on, airing some sort of children's show, and in front of it was a child sitting on the ground, about 7 years old, with short black hair and a round face. His ocean-blue eyes were glued to the screen, utterly fascinated by the program.

"Hey, it's not good to stare at a screen all day, it might damage your eyes. You don't wan to have bad eyesight, right?" I strode beside the kid and placed the cookie basket down on the floor, then ruffled his head because why not. "Here, your favorite cookies. It's still hot so be careful. Oh, be sure not to cause a mess or gramps would be mad, got it?" He nodded with a grumble.

I navigated my way through the house with familiarity and ended up in the backyard, where an old man, Tanaka Soichirou, could be seen sitting on a reclining chair. His hair was pure white, reminiscent of the clouds he was observering in the sky, displaying his age. His health, while not as great when we first met, was still in good shape.

"Morning, gramps. Here's breakfast." I made my presence known and handed him the plastic constainer.

"Ah, Shirou. Good morning." He turned from his seat, returning with a warm greeting of his own. He took the food case and opened it, sending a delicious aroma to drift into the air. "How's Ritsuka? Still at that television, I'm guessing?"

"Still at it, unfortunately," I shook my head, "he'll be blind by the time he's an adult if he keeps this up, I just know it. Kids these days, they spend all their days inside instead of going outside to play."

"Careful, now. You're starting to sound like an old man. Let kids enjoy the things available to them. Isn't that the whole point of advancing? to let the next generation live a better life? Stop being a stuck-up brat." Tanaka took another bite of his meal and continued. "Aren't you like, what… twelve? I keep thinking you're older with how you act. You should properly enjoy your early life as much as he is, you might regret not doing so."

"I wish I could. Unfortunately, there's a lot of things in my mind at the moment." The Holy Grail War, and many other variables such as the Mage Association, was constantly on the forefront of my mind, leaking into my everyday thoughts and putting me under great stress. I practically had no time to think about normal things. Hearing my answer, the old man leveled a blank stare at me. Confused, I asked: "What?"

"Ha!" He barked out a hearty laugh. "What's even going in your head, huh? All you think about is helping people around town and scaring other boys from approaching Sakura, you two are practically inseparable. At least you're enjoying your youth one way or another."

Warmth encroached my face, but it quickly died down. "You've got to understand, gramps," my voice lowered to a dangerous octave, "if I ever catch any of those boys do something bad to her, not even God would save their sorry asses from me."

"Goodness, you're sounding like my son whenever he talks about his daughter—his little princess or whatever." Tanaka rolled his eyes, then puts on a toothy grin. "You'll be a great dad one day, you already have the foundations for it."

We continued our talk for a few more minutes until I promptly ended it, saying there's still some stuff for me to do back home.

"Yeah yeah. Can't go on for more than an minute without needing your dose of Sakura. Shoo-shoo." He motioned as if pushing an animal away, then resumed gorging. I reentered the house with a sigh and found Ritsuka, the 7 year old boy, still staring intently at the television screen.

"Hm?" My brows quirked slighly upon spotting an empty basket beside him. It was the same one I gave him earlier, now devoid of cookies. 'Did this kid really just eat all of that in a few minutes? I baked 30 pieces!'

Thankfully, he followed my words and made no mess on the floor, but his cheeks were covered in crumbs instead. I took out a handkerchief and crouched down to clean Ritsuka's face, who didn't give my action much attention, fully entranced by the show he was watching.

"Kids these days, really." I stood back up and headed to the door. "Hey Ritsuka, I'm leaving now. Don't cause any touble, alright?" The dark-haired boy replied with nothing more than a hum as I exited the place.

We met less than a year ago; when he and his parents decided to move in nearby. The two adults were a bright pair, even inviting me to their place to eat several times. As for why Ritsuka's here, he would take shelter inside Tanaka's home whenever his guardians were out for work. The old man had no problems with that and allowed the child wander around his house.

Imagine my surprise when I first learned about his full name—Ritsuka Fujumaru. At first, I couldn't figure out why the name sounded so familiar, but then it dawned on me on the very next day. The protagonist of "Fate Grand Order", a gacha game in my previous life, possessed the same name and appearance, possibly hinting towards Finis Chaldea's existence in this world.

I kept my eyes on the boy, basically becoming an older brother figure to him which I didn't mind. What worried me the most was that if this world were to follow FGO's line of events, then my plans for the future would go down the drain before it even started. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do apart from hope and prepare for the worst.

A couple of twist and turns later, I arrive back home and found Sakura inside the living room holding a broom that's taller than herself. A warm smile was etched onto her lips as she noticed me enter. I tried to dissuade her from doing such menial tasks, but couldn't bring myself to refuse any of Sakura's wishes.

We talked to one another for a short while before splitting off; Sakura resumed sweeping the floor while I walked straight towards the storage room near the end of the hall. Entering, not a smidgen of dust could be found inside the space, I'm fairly certain my diligence in cleaning had turned into an obsession at this point.

Carefully moving a couple crates containing deadly explosives to the side, I unearthed a briefcase that was intricately hidden behind a false wall then returned everything to their original position as to not draw attention to that particular spot. Before leaving the mortal plane, Kiritsugu gave me access to his most deadliest armament yet, which was in my hands at this very moment. I knew it was here, but not once have I touched it until today.

It had been 6 months after Kiritsugu's death, and my training and drive for self improvement had not diminished since his passing. Speaking of him; my feelings for the man was a complicated mix of emotions. Due to my past life's memories, it prevented me from treating him like a proper parent, instead he was more of a mentor to me. That doesn't mean we did not spend time together like how a father and son would, but only on rare occasions as I have not the same interests nor mindset as a child would have.

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.

"I'll try my best to not ruin that streak." With a quick scan of my eyes, Unlimited Blade Works immediately went to work, adding the ammunition to my soulscape. The bullets would take a substantial amount of magical energy to replicate, as it was the farthest thing from the concept of a 'sword', but not crippling.

I closed the briefcase and tucked it inside my sleeping quarters with great care before joining Sakura by the living room to eat breakfast. On the television screen, a news segment about a string of murders that's been happening inside the city was playing, warning us of a possible serial killer on the loose, and repeatedly told everyone watching to stay safe and lock their doors.

This caught my attention, so I shelved the information on the back of my mind and continued eating. A homely atmosphere whirled around the two of us as we engaged in a myriad of topics. Sakura had more or less opened up to me, showing more emotion than ever before, but I could tell she was still repressing them quite a lot.

Truth be told, she was afraid. Afraid that that Zouken might take the little happiness she had left in the world away from her. She didn't want Shirou to disappear, she wanted her grandfather to wisk away, crushed like the bug that he was. A shadow nestled within Sakura's soul fed on her emotions, but it wasn't enough to cause any external reactions.

'Don't worry, Sakura. Just wait a bit more and that old worm is going to die, I promise you that.' I thought to myself.

----

Later that afternoon as I was leaping from one roof to another, doing my usual patrol over the city, a prickling sensation washed over me, forcing my stride to halt. My nose picked up the scent of blood and decay, catapulting me into a heightened state of alertness.

Following the peculiar smell, I ended up in front of an abandoned warehouse. There was nothing odd about it; the area was silent and the air was calm—from a distance at least. Leaning forward, a translucent membrane emitting a small amount of magical energy could be seen covering the entire compound. At the back of my mind, the urge to turn around and vacate the area arose, but I shrugged the feeling off fairly easily.

Raising my hand, I gave the invisible wall a few taps and quickly concluded that it was a Bounded Field. The entire space was blocked off, preventing civilians from nearing or seeing whatever was happening inside.

Without a second thought, I pushed myself forward and breached through the magical barrier with relative ease, as its main purpose was to simply turn away anyone nearby, and saw the warehouse's true state; mutilated corpses were strewn all around, fresh blood painted the walls and dismembered limbs decorated the ground. A bile went up my throat as an intense wave of rot assaulted my nose. Fortunately, I managed to force it down and took a moment to regain my calm.

With a clear head, I took another look at my surroundings. Despite missing critical organs like the lungs and heart, a few fallen carcasses still moved as if it were alive, dragging themselves across the pavement using whatever was left of them. Their eyes appeared hollow, devoid of substance, not a hint of intelligence could be seen behind them. Seeing this, a single thought crossed my mind: 'Ghouls.'

Ghouls were nothing more than reanimated corpses, their sole purpose being to serve whoever brought them to existence. It was a foul practice most magi would look at in utter contempt due to its association with Dead Apostles—vampire-like beings. Their main strength comes from their overwhelming numbers as an individual undead was no better than the average human. I trained my sight on the trail of bodies on the road, it seems whoever preceded me had already taken out most of them, leaving only a dozen or so to mindlessly scamper around.

While taking stock of the area, a sudden noise caught my attention; the sound of metal clashing against one another reverberated from behind the building, indicating some sort of battle. I swiftly went into motion and marched towards the source of the noise, only for an undead with one missing arm to suddenly block my path.

With a neutral expression, I extended an arm and pulled my conciousness inward. A spark, caused by two blades striking each other, flew across my head. Magical energy begun to coalesce atop my open palm, shaping itself into a sleek and compact firearm adorned with intricate engravings.

A few years ago, using Kiritsugu's old connections, I had ordered a custom firearm that appeared exactly like the "Hunter Pistol" from the video game 'Bloodborne', one of my favorite games ever in my past life. The one in my hand was a copy using magecraft, of course, the real handgun was safely stored back home.

Mana entered the gun's singular chamber, morphing into a silver-hued bullet. Projecting ordinary ammunition, while costing less than an Origin bullet, still required an abundant amount of magical energy compared to a sword. Squeezing the trigger, the hammer at the end snapped forward. A single bullet left the chamber accompanied by a loud bang and traced a straight line directly into the undead's forehead, tearing through its rotting flesh with ease. The living corpse, deprived of its motor functions, dropped with a sickening thud.

[You have slain an undead]

"Oh?" On the status screen, I watched the experience bar increase by a noticeable amount. As expected, much like any other video game, killing monsters was the superior method of raising one's level. A feral grin broke through my stoic facade as I locked gazes with another ghoul that was dragging its battered body towards my position. Whatever problem was happening behind the storehouse could wait, leveling up took priority.

In a manic fit of bloodlust, I eliminated every single straggler I could find within the premises with extreme efficiency, gaining enough experience points to almost level up, but not quite. The amount of EXP I've gained in the last few minutes alone was equal to a week's worth of side-quests. After successfully purging all abominable creatures by the entrance, I made my way behind the structure where a group of men dressed in priestly robes could be seen circling an unmoving body lying over a pool of blood.

The presence of priests was unexpected, surprising me somewhat. So, I'm guessing whatever's been causing the recent murder spree was the same one they've just killed. Their breaths were laboured and a few of them were even covered in wounds, blood having stained their clothing, yet they appeared unbothered by it and continued on like normal.

"Hm?" A tall man with a neatly groomed beard noticed my appearance, in turn putting the his companion's attention on me, then asked in a friendly tone: "What might you be doing here, young man? This place isn't safe, I'd recommend vacating the area immediately."

Feeling the combined weight of their scrutinizing glare, a weak shiver crept up my back. "Ah, I was nearby and noticed a commotion. I came to offer my aid, but it appears it wasn't needed."

A shame, really. I was hoping to earn more experience points by killing monsters, but there was nothing I could do about that. Had I arrive a tad bit earlier, my level would've already risen. Though, there was one thing I could do that will benefit both parties. "I can see some of you had suffered, I could offer my prayers and help quicken your recovery."

This piques the priest's interest. "Are you perhaps a member of the local church?"

Naturally, he did not suspect me of being an ordinary citizen, as only those who has knowledge of the supernatural could bypass the barrier they had erected around the compound.

"Not exactly, but I do go there on a regular basis." While true, my purpose of going there wasn't to seek the Lord's guidance, but had something to do with the System.

"I see." He nodded, mistaking my identity as a deacon. "We're plenty exhausted from the fight, we would greatly appreciate your help, young man."

The group's tense atmosphere loosened up, some sat down on the floor to rest while others opted to remain standing. I lowered my head and held my hands together in a prayer, then employed one of the skills I gained after many days of attending the Lord's home.

As holy energy swirled around us, the priests' eyes widen in shock. The energy combined into a malevolent pillar, casting a radiant light upon my entire figure. The believers dropped to their knees, cupped their hands above their chest, offering heartfelt prayers in reverence. Their wounds, from most grievous to the slightest cuts, swiftly closed, while their fatigue was gently swept away by the warm light.

As they basked under the pillar's brilliance, a System notification appeared before me.

[Skill 'Healing Prayer' has ranked up to C - 1]

Healing Prayer was, as the name suggests, a skill that mended all kinds of wounds dealt to the body and also restored some of the target's vitality. Due to its nature as a holy sacrament, it was wholly unaffected by [Sword Incarnation] as it wasn't a form of magecraft.

After regularly attending church services, I gained this extraordinary ability. Apparently, anything can be turned into a skill if you practice it for long enough, even something as abstract as praying. I wonder if it's possible to gain a skill that could make anything spontaneously explode if I wished for it hard enough?

Anyways, since then, I've been visiting hospitals to heal the wounded. However, I didn't want to turn Fuyuki into a city of miracles, so I decided to only make occasional visits to hospitals to avoid drawing too much attention.

The members of the Church stood in awe of what they had just witnessed. They couldn't believe it—they had just seen the Lord's light in action. The bearded priest had expected some form of healing art or magecraft disguised as a Sacrament, but what they experienced was beyond their expectations.

The Church had always been opposed to the use of magecraft, but they couldn't deny its usefulness. So, some higher-ups in the Vatican decided to select a few specific thaumaturgy methods - such as Bounded Fields - and repurposed them. However, what they were witnessing now wasn't any of that; it was a genuine gift bestowed by the Lord himself. Within the Church, only the most devout followers had ever been granted this power, but it had never been this potent before. Only figures like Martha or Joan of Arc, saints of long ago, had ever received such strong favour from their deity.

For some odd reason, I felt a warm and comforting sensation across my very being, like that of a mother's touch, before it briskly disappeared. I brushed the feeling off, chalking it up to the skill's effects. Having already obtained what I wanted, there was no need for me to stay here any longer. I took advantage of their stunned state and kicked off the ground using all of my strength, vanishing out of sight with a flurry of dust.

"What—where did he go? Find him! We mustn't lose someone chosen by the Lord!" The bearded priest broke out of his trance and exclaimed, then turned to his most trusted person in the group. "George, call the others. The air is still rife with holy energy, have them come here, quickly!"

Little did Shirou know, this little stunt of his would reach the Pope's ears in a matter of minutes, raising a furor all across the Vatican and bringing unwanted attention to himself.

END.

 

[Dunno.]

Chapter 6: Extermination.

As night broke across Fuyuki, I emerge from my room with newfound determination coursing through my veins. Tonight was the night where my plans came into fruition. Before that however, there was one last thing I needed to do.

Opening a sliding door, my entry into Sakura's room was soundless thanks to Kiritsugu teachings. On the floor, resting underneath a fluffy blanket, lied Sakura's sleeping form. School activities had drained her quite a lot, resulting in her retiring to bed earlier than usual. I crouched beside her while keeping my presence minimal, then induced myself in a state of hypnosis to tap into Unlimited Blade Works' countless armaments. I went through a sea of blades and found what I was looking for atop a grassy hill, shining brilliantly amongst a crowd of colourful flowers.

"I am the bone of my sword." The first line of Shirou Emiya's aria rolled off my tongue, followed by a burst of golden light. Not a moment later, a beautiful blue and golden sheath, the Ever Distant Utopia—Avalon, answered my prayers and appeared before me. It radiated an otherworldly glow that brought safety to those nearby.

It was a copy of course, nothing more than a fake made with modern magecraft, yet despite all that, its essence was near indistinguishable to the original, a near perfect replica of Avalon thanks to me having a deep understanding of the genuine article. Throughout the years, I've pushed my Projection ability to its absolute limits, causing a small patch of my forearm to darken as a consequence, in order to replicate Avalon's full might just for this very moment.

I motioned the sheath forward and merged it inside Sakura's body without a problem. She let out a weak hum in response to the change before slipping back to sleep. The fake scabbard should only last for an hour at best, which was more than enough for tonight's objective—killing Zouken Matou. After giving Sakura the Ever Distant Utopia, I quickly left the abode and headed towards the Matou residence while blending into the night to prevent anyone from spotting me.

A short while later, a weathered manor came into view. Each corner of the structure released a disgusting feel that sent goosebumps all over my body. A Bounded Field encased the whole place to keep anyone from entering, as expected, but it did not prevent me from breaching through as if it was never there. Kiritsugu had taught me many things in the past, one of them was how to effectively bypass a magus' Bounded Field without triggering it, and combine that with a skill of mine, "Presence Concealment", which blurs my existence inside people's minds, I became nigh-undetectable through normal or magical means.

Without hesitation, I went inside the decrepit abode. My movements were swift and utterly muted, eyes going to and fro, analyzing every surface of the way for any anomalies. Zouken Matou's familiars covered the whole house which made my infiltration more difficult, but not impossible. Eventually, without alerting any of the despicable creatures, I arrive at my destination—a stairwell leading down the basement oozing with the smell of decay.

After carefully making my way down the flight of stairs, I was greeted by a sight one could only stare at in absolute abhorrence. Stuffed inside a pit was a bed of phallus shaped worms wriggling in place, eager to violate anyone unfortunate enough to fall on top of them.

Gazing into the gorge of filth was none other than Zouken Matou, not much had changed about him, he still possessed a repulsive air I could not help but hate. I intentionally increased the noise of my heels striking the floor, causing a loud tap to echo throughout the space. The old man turned around after hearing the disturbance, surprise clearly evident on their face as he saw me standing idly by the entrance.

"Hoh? I did not expect a visit from you at this time of day." The worms crawling on the walls stirred, locking their beady eyes upon my lonesome figure. "My, you've grown into a splendid young man since we last met, Emiya Shirou. How's my granddaughter fairing?"

"She's doing way better now, that's for sure," I calmly replied, humouring the old coot. "Answer me, Zouken. Why didn't you do anything to take her back? Surely you wouldn't have abandoned the only heir to the Matou magecraft, right?."

For some demented reason I could not comprehend, magi families would only pass down their craft - otherwise known as a Magic Crest - to one child and left the other siblings to fend for their own. To them, family was no more important than the air they breathed. Sakura was one such victim of this practice and was given away at a young age to become the Matou heir after the previous heir, Shinji, showed not a smidgen of talent in the art of thaumaturgy.

From what I could recall, he would have Sakura lie in that worm infested hole every waking moment of the day all in the name of 'training'. Zouken's familiars latched onto her insides and regularly force her into ejaculating to feed themselves, as the liquid substance was a potent way to recover mana without hurting the ill-fated girl.

He sighed, placing both hands around his back. "I'm getting old, is it wrong for me to leave my granddaughter in good hands until she's old enough to take over the family business? Everyone in town speaks nothing but kind words about you, I knew you'll take care of her just fine."

"That's bullshit and you know it." Fury coated my words, turning the atmosphere around us tense as a result. "You just wanted to turn her into a lesser Grail, didn't you?"

He blinked, taken aback by my sentence. "I'm certain not even the Mage Association knows of this, did you figure it all out by yourself? Pretty impressive, I might say. As expected of the Magus Killer's successor." Of course he knew who my adoptive father was, that wasn't much of a surprise to be honest. "I suppose you won't tell me how you came across that piece of information?"

"No. Figure it out yourself." I venomously snapped back. I've known what he precisely wanted since the start—it was to turn Sakura into a vessel for the Holy Grail using a shard of the Grail itself, which would've killed her had it been completed. He merely wanted to use me to break her state of mind even further and accelerate the process. I just wanted to hear it from his mouth, but it seems he won't grant me that wish.

Without uttering another word, my magic circuits hummed to life, causing magical energy to erupt from my body. There was no need to speak of my reason for being here, my apparent hostility towards him was enough of an answer on how this meeting would end.

"Are children nowadays allowed to simply barge into an old man's home and attack them?" He gave out nothing more than an amused laugh in response to my aggression. Then, an eerie grin spread across his face as he spread his arms outward. As if responding to his actions, a loud thump reverberated from behind the walls, making the whole place shake. "As unfortunate as it is, you will die here, young man. Perhaps if you had come here in peace, we could have struck an accord that would benefit the both of us."

The partition behind him suddenly collapsed, revealing a tide of grubs that swiftly moved towards my direction, each of them possessed a pair of wings and a row of sharp teeth that could no doubt penetrate steel in one bite. Fear did not take hold of me, for my will was that of steel.

"Trace on." I chanted. A sensation of warmth welled from within my chest, gradually spreading throughout my entire being, infusing me with newfound strength and vigor.

Next, a new set of apparels manifested into existence; my figure was draped in flowing burnished robes that billow around my form like dark clouds. Adorning my head is a winged helmet of similar hue, its sleek curves and intricate detailing reminiscent of ancient warriors of legend. The entirety of my right arm was encased in armour painted in gold, and my hand wielded a long, curved blade carrying an air of menace and power.

It was a carbon copy of Malenia the Severed's garments, who is one of, if not my favorite character ever. I have not a shred of shame for imitating her style, could anyone even blame me? All I needed now was a healing effect on my blade that mends my own wounds whenever I draw the opponent's blood, and everything would be complete. One day, once my smithing skils were high enough, I'd be able to make it.

Its past is totally empty, being made no longer than 2 months ago with ordinary materials by yours truly. Of course, I have never seen Malenia the Severed, so there was no feasible way for me to replicate her garb including its unique properties and history. My equipment was nothing more than pale imitations of the real thing.

"Interesting get-up you have there, boy." He commented on my peculiar appearance as swarms of his familiars quickly surrounded me from all sides. He undoubtedly dismissed the magical constructs as a whole due to its nature as a Projection, a spell known for its less than practical effects.

I part my lips and responded with: "Time alter—square accel." In my eyes, the movements of the world itself slowed to a snail's pace, yet for some odd reason my whole body remained unaffected by this phenomenon, moving at what seemed to be normal speed. It was the power of none other than the Magic Crest engraved on my left shoulder.

Surprisingly, Kiritsugu had passed down the Emiya family's Magic Crest, a craft known for its ability to manipulate time inside a designated space, onto me before his passing. Though he only possessed a fragment of the Crest due to an incident in the past, the Magus Killer utilized the magecraft to its fullest, breaking through human limitations and moving at such insane speeds that the human eye failed to register even a flicker of his figure.

With a flourish, I raised the blade and lashed out, cutting through the flood of worms with deadly expertise. Each arc it passed was a path of death, resulting in a dozen or so worms being sliced into two halves by the second. To the outside world however, not even a fraction of that time had elapsed.

"Release." I muttered out, disabling Time Alter and returning my accelerated senses to normal. As the effects fizzled out, a rain of invertebrate carcasses fell from the air, creating a circle around me as if an invisible barrier had stopped them in their tracks.

Suddenly, a stiffled grunt escaped my lips as a formless rope tightly wrapped itself around my entire being, before disappearing just as quickly as it appeared. Time manipulation had it own sets of drawbacks like everything else. Using 'square accel', the final stage, should have destroyed me from the inside in an instant, but the punishment was balanced out by the combined forces of Avalon's miraculous healing and my innate endurance.

Zouken wasn't surprised in the slightest, he had expected some form of resistance from the boy. The old man swiftly responded by sending even more winged worms at the redhead to overwhelm him with sheer numbers while also ordering another batch of familiars he had hidden around the mansion to gather. He had done his research, he knew of what just transpired. 'The Emiya boy shouldn't be able to use that technique for an extended period of time.' He thought, blissfully unaware of what said boy had in store for him.

Brandishing my curved sword, I cut and slice through the sea of flying critters while steadily narrowing the distance between the old magus and I. He showed little to no worry, clearly undermining my abilities. Out of the blue, an explosion of concrete and dust erupted from the ceiling as an amalgamation of worms the size of a car dropped into the scene with a shrill screech, forcing my march to halt.

"Time alter—triple accel." I recited, increasing my overall speed by three-fold. Without wasting another moment, I brought my weapon to bear and delivered a myriad of slashes at the fat invertebrate, dismantling the poor thing in one fell swoop. The boost in agility remained as I continued my rush to my opponent. I twist and twirled, pressing forward like a storm.

As the fight raged on, Zouken unleashed a swarm of winged worms to obscure my vision, creating an opening that he briskly exploited. A dozen of his familiars broke through my defenses and dug their dirty fangs onto my legs, stealing my attention away for a brief moment. With a violent swing, the distasteful creatures were thrown off my legs and quickly met the heels of my boots. The floor shattered underneath the force of my stomps, sending shards of stone flying in all directions. Within that small time frame, the wounds they've inflicted had already recovered thanks to Avalon.

To my left and right, a pair of inflated worms abruptly bursts forth with the grace of a car being driven by a drunkard, their razor-sharp teeth primed and ready to tear me apart. As I was about to cleave the beasts into bite sized pieces, a sea of winged grubs appeared from all sides, enveloping my whole form in a heartbeat and began eating away at my frame.

"Square accel." I whispered then twisted my wrist. In one moment; I was trapped inside a sarcophagus of vile worms, and in the next; each critter popped into a mist of blood as if air itself had denied their existence. "Release." I drew a sharp breath and spoke again. "Time alter—triple accel."

More and more of Zouken's familiars entered the cellar from various entry points and did their best to halt my charge, but no matter how many disgusting bugs threw themselves at me, the results remained the same; I continued advancing without stopping.

Eventually, I managed to breach the wall of creepy-crawlers and honed my sights on the old magus hiding at the back end. Raising a hand, my mana reserves dropped by a large margin as a sleek handgun appeared in my grasp with a shimmer of light. With a tug, the gun fired a single Origin bullet at Zouken's form. Not a hint of concern marred his disgusting face as the projectile flew at him at high speeds. The bullet struck him dead in the chest with a crunch, but the old magus treated it nothing more than a slight annoyance, expecting the hole to fix itself.

As Zouken stood in place, a creeping sense of dread washed over him. It started as a subtle tremor, a faint quiver running through his body, but quickly escalated into something far more sinister. A collection of familiars that made up his muscles tensed and spasmed uncontrollably, as if rebelling against his commands. With each passing moment, it felt as though his very essence was slipping through his fingers, dissolving into nothingness.

A smile went up my face as I saw panic surge through him. Kiritsugu's Origin bullets did more than inflict physical wounds, it also broke down the magic circuits of whoever it hits, taking away their ability to manipulate magical energy and perform magecraft. Given enough time, Zouken would eventually lose his control over his familiars, preventing the magus from reforming another vessel at a later date.

"Trace on." Malenia's hand (the curved sword) vanished from my hand and was swiftly replaced by a peculiar broadsword. Putting strength into my legs, I launched forward with a burst of speed, killing everything that blocked my path like a raging berserker and crossed the distance between him and I in a blink of an eye. Stopping before the man, I rotated my upper body, held the sword high above my head, then executed a swift vertical slash.

Unable to move away in time, Zouken quickly raised a limb to intercept my attack, however it did nothing to stop the blade's sharp edge from effortlessly cleaving his right arm clean off his shoulders.

"Gah!" Suddenly, a piercing pain tore through Zouken's body, sharp and agonizing, as if his very being was being torn apart by the seams. The sensation disoriented him, this shouldn't have been possible, his familiars should have been the one that got hurt as his main body was still beside Sakura's heart, yet he felt as if unseen hands were tearing his soul, pulling him apart piece by piece. He tried to rationalize the strange occurrence, but the boy prevented him from expanding on this thought.

I swiftly withdrew my weapon and executed a flurry of strikes at my opponent, aiming to lay as much suffering as I possibly could. To my surprise, the old maggot's injuries mended itself at a pace that matched my swings. I notice that his remaining familiars had forgone attacking me altogether in favour of attaching themselves onto Zouken's current body in a vain attempt to keep their host alive. I wasn't alarmed by this, the blade in my grasp struck one's soul, restoring his body only gave me more opportunities to inflict pain upon him. I swung, again and again, severing his soul's hold over the mortal plane in an act of unfiltered violence. Soon enough, the amount of worms that followed his instructions lessened, leaving him with nothing more than a withering upper body to work with.

"Release." I deactivated Time Alter, ignoring the throbbing pain that came with it, and strode towards the old coot's slumped form.

"You—" He tried to speak, but I cut him off by grabbing his head and brutally pummeling it onto the ground, scraping it across the surface. A few more cuts from the broadsword would have fully extinguished his soul, but there was something else I wanted to do just as a precaution. I took a deep breath before opening my mouth to speak.

"I kill. I let live. I harm, and I heal. None will escape me. None will escape my sight." I activated the only holy sacrament skill in my arsenal.

Due to Zouken Matou's unique existence, he was extremely susceptible to such practices, hence why I went through the trouble of learning it.

"Be crushed. I welcome those who have grown old and those who have lost." A pillar of malevolent light answered my words, connecting up into the sky and bathing the entire basement in an ethereal glow. "Devote yourself to me, learn from me, and obey me." Holy energy swirled, enveloping the area with warmth. "Do not forget song, do not forget prayer, and do not forget me." All across the city, members of the Holy Church took notice of the divine column in the distance and hastily made their way to it. "I give you rest. I will lighten your burdens and make you forget them."

Zouken's eyes threatened to pop out of its sockets. While his body convulsed in reaction to the sacrament, he uttered in disbelief: "What—?" He did not understand where the boy got all of these tricks from. He had watched him from the sidelines since the day he took Sakura away, and concluded that he was nothing more than a kind young man with an inflated sense of justice.

And that sword, the blade that struck his very essence—where did he get it? The old magus knew Shirou dabbled in smithing, but what can a 12 year old upstart magus realistically do with bars of metal? Not once did he even consider the redhead a threat, and now the magus was paying the price for his hubris. Decades worth of work to achieve his goal, gone right before his eyes all because of a child's interference.

His body refused to move even an inch and could do nothing but watch as his remaining frame crumbled into fine dust due to the Lord's light. He'd known that Shirou attended the local kirk, but he never could've expected him to attain such strong connection with the Lord during that short amount of time.

"Did you receive guidance from God, child?" Zouken strained himself to speak, longing wrapped his words for some odd reason. In truth, his corroded soul slowly reverted back to its natural state, allowing memories he'd long forgotten to play in his mind. It brought him back to a simpler time.

Letting his words flow from one ear to another, I continued the rite, "Do not pretend. Retribution for forgiveness, betrayal for trust, despair for hope, darkness for light, and death for the living." White lines suddenly weaved across the old magus' skin, covering his entire form like a web. "Solice is in my hands. I shall pour oil unto your sins and mark you. Only in death will eternal life be given." As the rite neared its conclusion, the holy pillar shone brighter. "You'll find forgiveness here. On my Incarnation I swear——Kyrei Eleison." Following my words, Zouken's soul shattered, torn into a thousand fragments by the light of God, never to walk amongst the ranks of Man ever again.

Now without a master to follow, the left over familiars scurried away from my figure in a panic. The grubs' presence all over the city brought me little concern as once daybreak hits, each and every single one of them would hurl over due to mana exhaustion. Even if a few of these critters somehow survive, they'd have no choice but to cannibalize one another for magical energy to live even a second more, culling their numbers without me having to do anything.

After ending the sacrament, the divine beam gradually dispersed into beautiful motes of light and I rose to my feet. A burst of System notifications appeared, telling me that "Purify" had reached B rank, but I pushed it aside and took another deep breath to calm my bubbling excitement.

"I did it." Just like how Kiritsugu had taught me, I had dispatched my target with extreme efficiency, there was no need to draw the battle out when there was nothing to gain. While the process had some rough edges, it went as well as I had expected. Had the poor bastard taken me seriously from the start, our fight would've ended differently, too bad he couldn't take into account that I had a video game System on my side.

To be honest, it was a bit of an overkill to use a literal God given gift to end him, but better to err on the side of caution. With a near perfect copy of Avalon planted within Sakura, she should be fine even if Zouken did anything with his main body out of desperation.

Manic laughter bursts out of my mouth, before it was briskly shot down. 'Celebrations can come later, I need to get back home first.'

Upon emerging from the Matou mansion, I was immediately confronted by a group of men dressed in dark vestments standing idly by the foyer. A myriad of expressions donned each of their faces as they stared at my appearance, the most prominent being shock and reverence. Thankfully, the winged helm covered the majority of my facial features, preventing them from determining my identity. However, I have no doubt they eventually would with enough time, given that red hair wasn't really that common around here.

As for the members of the Church, they could not help but gawk at the red-haired boy's blinding figure. A strong amount of holy energy continuously radiated off of him, flooding the entire area with warmth and mellowness. A weak glimmer accompanied his every step, as if a messenger of God walked right beside him. Truly, a mark of the Lord's chosen, they all collectively thought. The bearded man, the highest ranking cardinal in their group, took a step forward and presented himself with a small bow. "Good evening young man, I am Ivan Williams, a member of the Holy Church. May I ask what has happened here?"

"Good evening," I nod my head slightly, but refused to announce my name, "nothing too serious, I can assure you. There was merely a force of evil that needed to be taken care of," I spoke the truth, yet remained vague on the details. "Now, If I may, there's a place that requires my immediate presence. Have a good night."

I quickly went into motion to vacate the area, but the man known as Ivan Williams raised his arm as I was about to walk past him, halting my stride. "A moment, please. Would it trouble you to tell us your name?"

"I am nothing more than a simple man of the Lord. Hopefully that would suffice," I spoke calmly, fully knowing my answer would not satisfy even a quarter of their curiosity, before speaking in a whisper, "Time alter—square accel."

The following phenomena left the priests frozen in astonishment. As if blessed by the Lord himself, a pair of malevolent wings made of pure light hovered behind Shirou's armour before he vanished with a flash of light, leaving the starstruck clergymen abandoned on the Matou residence. After his disappearance, they quickly went into action, some tried to follow the boy but lost him after a single turn, while others stayed behind to investigate the place, later finding an unconscious boy with a head of blue hair and took him into an infirmary.

I swiftly left the scene while supressing my presence to seamlessly blend into the surroundings, fully ignorant of the events that just transpired behind me. While weaving through the familiar streets of Fuyuki, a translucent screen appeared before my eyes, saying something about gaining a new title. I pushed it aside for now and placed my attention back at my current task. Soon enough, I arrive back home and dematerialized my equipment, then quietly entered Sakura's room.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the young girl squirming in her bed while donning a face of discomfort. I dropped to the ground and took her into my arms, hoping to soothe whatever pain she was going through. As I gently embraced her, Avalon registered my touch and went into overdrive, producing a golden glow from within her chest as it did its best to fix whatever damage Zouken's remaining familiars inflicted on her.

Sakura's hair colour shifts into a darker shade of purple for some odd reason. Seeing as how Avalon wasn't reacting to the change, it was probably nothing harmful. As time progressed, Sakura's breathing returned to normal, her spasms stopped and her face now sported one of comfort. Seeing this, I released a breath I was unconsciously holding and gently tucked her back into bed, then opened the System menu to check on something.

[Title 'Saint' has been acquired]

"What?" I muttered in surprise. I checked its contents and found out what it did; the title provided me a major experience boost in everything that's related to holy energy. It acted similarly to [Sword Incarnation], except it's for divine sacraments instead of swords. It was most-likely generated due to some misunderstanding created by my ability to utilize the Lord's gifts, but you wouldn't see me complain about it. A power up was a power up.

And with that, I caressed Sakura's hair one last time and left her alone to recover.

----

As the morning rays shone through the windows, Sakura stirred from her slumber and sat upright right while rubbing her eyes. Relief washed over the young girl as she scanned the whole room, realizing that she was still inside Shirou's home and not her grandfather's.

It had been many years since she'd left that place and was offered a new home, but Sakura still felt as if it was a dream. Dread kept a firm hold over her mind, she was deathly afraid that the times she has spent with Shirou was all but a lie created by Zouken to torment her even further. She doesn't want this to end, hoping this moment would last forever. But, she knew it wouldn't last, like always. Her uncle had already tried and failed in the past which lead to his demise, what's to say this would go any different?

Upon rising to her feet, she immediately noticed that the worms inside of her was awefully silent. Usually, they would wiggle and crawl, giving her a sense of formication (the feeling of insects crawling in, on or under your skin) at every waking moment, but for some reason she could not feel any of those dastardly creatures, as if they had disappeared. She didn't give it much attention though, they'll probably awake later and continue like normal.

Reaching the dining room, she quickly spotted Shirou sitting down by the table, a heavy atmosphere circled the boy like clouds during a storm. Witnessing this side of him that she's never seen, a tinge of nervousness spread across her body.

"Oh, Sakura. Come here, I have something to tell you." A cold hand grasped her heart as she heard him speak in a weighty tone. Had he gotten tired of her? Disgusted by the filth that befouled her person? She hesitated, stopping just before entering the room. Seeing her odd behavior, Shirou worriedly asked: "Is something wrong? Do you need some help?"

She regained a fraction of her wits back and replied with a stutter. "O-oh… it's nothing." Sakura shuffled her way to the desk and sat down beside him, her fingers digging into her thighs as she waited for him to start. Did her grandfather do something to him? Maybe he threatened Shirou to give her back? She quickly tossed those thoughts away, Shirou wouldn't do something like that, right? She prays that's not the case.

"Sakura," the redhead looked directly into her eyes, "you don't have to worry about Zouken anymore. He's dead, I killed him," he decided to speak the truth without beating around the bush. The redhead said it with such conviction that she almost believed it to be true.

Whatever was brewing inside Sakura's head could not even compare to what Shirou had just revealed. She stilled, thinking she heard wrong, but Shirou made it abundantly clear that the man known as Zouken Matou had perished not too long ago by his own hands.

"But…but how?" The young girl squeaked out in denial. She knew what her grandfather was capable of to some extent, so it shouldn't have been possible for Shirou to do anything to him, yet he claims to have gotten rid of Zouken? It confused her more than anything. She fervently hoped that nothing harmful happened to him, otherwise she might just lose the only one who gave her joy.

Shirou then went on to explain what had transpired last night while excluding the gruesome details of course, and told her that he had been preparing for this moment since they day they met. By the end of his account, Sakura's mind whirled like a hurricane. Then, she realized why the worms inside her stopped—they had vanished along with Zouken's death.

A choked breath escaped the young girl as tears slowly formed in her eyes. She doesn't deserve any of this, there was no reason for Shirou to go that far for someone like her, yet he did for no other reason than he cared. She felt happy to say the least, yet guilty for dragging Shirou into her problems.

"I-I'm sorry," she sputtered out, a stream of tears rolling down her cheeks. "I didn't want to drag you into–" she paused due to a hiccup, "–how can I even thank you for this… I don't even have anything to—"

Shirou pulls her into a tender hold, cutting her words off. "Hush. Don't apologize. You deserve this much, Sakura. Just continue living your life, whatever makes you happy makes me happy as well."

Sakura wrapped her arms around the boy's neck in response, slamming her whole body onto his as tears resumed to flow from her eyes. For the next hour or so, the young girl refused to let go of Shirou as if afraid something would take him away from her. This is fine, right? If whatever she did made him happy, then he wouldn't mind staying with her for a while, no? In her mind, she made a silent vow to never leave the boy's side, no matter what the world threw at her.

Deep within her soul, a being of pure darkness screamed, its shrill cries reverberating across the space it inhabited, thrashing as if showered in molten lava. Nothing answered the creature's shrieks until a loud crack sounded from across its blackened form. Suddenly, the thing was split into two distinct entities: one made of raw hate and wrath, while the other emanated joy, love, and a hint of obsession. It even had a form of its own, which was eerily similar to Sakura's physical appearance.

The two opposing existences stared at one another for a moment until the former was abruptly banished out of the vast emptiness by an unseen force tinged with a shred of divine into the material plane—right inside the Matou manor's ruined basement.

"You finally made your appearance. You kept me waiting, you insolent cur," a man with golden hair spoke. He exuded a kingly aura no one could reject, forcing anyone to kneel with just a glance from his penetrating gaze.

As the beast of enmity roared in response to the man's presence, a series of chains emerged from brilliant portals behind the golden-haired man and swiftly enfolded the creature, binding it to the ground.

"Although you are only a fraction of it, under my care, you'll become an adequate weapon to extinguish this era's blight," he declared in a haughty voice.

END.

Author's Notes: Uh, yeah—Didn't plan much ahead when I wrote the fight scene. Oops?

I'll be writing notes every chapter from now on because I can.

Also, I've been playing a game called Supermarket Simulator, and it's quite addicting.

 

[Dunno.]

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.

 

[Dunno.]

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.

 

[Dunno.]

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.

 

[Dunno.]

Chapter 10: First Quest (3/3) - Shattered Grail.

"Is something wrong?" I asked my company as we patrolled the outskirts of town.

"A battle is happening over there." She lifted her hand, pointing eastward. "I must go, I shall return once it's over."

Gazing into the direction she pointed, I could feel multiple explosions of dense magical energy, indicating that a battle was happening there.

"I'm coming with you," I voiced out my thoughts.

"Shirou, you mustn't. It is far too dangerous for you," Jeanne refused. She knew his physical prowess eclipsed that of an ordinary human, but a fight between Servants still posed a significant danger to him.

"Don't worry. I'll stay far away and just watch. You go on first, you're way faster than me after all." Admittedly, there wasn't much I could really do apart from observe from a distance.

She nods, accepting my words. With a flicker of light, she equipped her Servant attire and sprinted away, leaving me abandoned. Without wasting another moment, I reinforced my legs and surged forward, following the Saintess' direction.

A little later, I came to a sudden stop after arriving at the edge of a forest. On one side of the terrain, the Yggdmillenia castle where the Black faction rested could be seen standing firm, overlooking the battlefield.

Then, I cranked my head upward, gazing at the monolithic fortress hovering with the clouds, looming over the land like a watchful eye—it was the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, Assassin of Red's Noble Phantasm. Looks like the Red faction decided to launch an all out attack on their enemies after Assassin of Red finished constructing it. It's funny how the Servant of Assassination of all people possessed the most eye-catching ability out of everyone.

Back down on the ground, a few isolated clashes were happening. The trees were cleaved, earth torn, and the winds boomed with every impact that commenced, leaving nothing but destruction upon Mother Earth's fine landscape.

Using Reinforcement on my eyes, I got a better look of what's happening while remaining far away from any of it as possible. I watched as the Rider of Red, Achilles, charged with a head full of steam at the Archer of Black, Chiron, who was posted atop a cliff, bow in hand.

The spear in Rider's grasp was added to Unlimited Blade Works in an instant, same with Archer's bow. Looking away from them, I did much the same to the other Servants I could spot running around the battlefield; copying their Noble Phantasms inside my Reality Marble.

After scouring the whole area, a wide smile etched itself on my face, overjoyed by the new additions to my arsenal. In total, 8 Noble Phantasms including Ruler's was now in my possession. From the Black Faction, I gained Saber, Assassin, Archer, and Lancer's. While from the Red Faction, I got Saber, Archer, and Rider's, the others were simply too far or impossible for me to analyze.

My personal favorite was the Archer of Red's weapon, the chaste huntress—Atalanta, as it finally allowed me to shoot Noble Phantasms out like they're arrows without snapping in half from the strain, unlike my current custom-made bow. Of course, I wouldn't be doing that right now lest I garner everyone's attention.

I scratch my chin, thoughts stirring. From what I could recall, the Greater Grail is currently hidden below the Black faction's base. Using the ongoing fight as a distraction, I could probably sneak my way inside and break the source of this conflict with all the Noble Phantasms I've acquired just now.

"Alrighty-then." I made my decision and swiftly left the scene, heading to the Yggdmillenia castle while utilizing my proficiency with the art of stealth to become one with the surroundings.

Of course, I did not barge through the front gates and instead looped around, infiltrating from the side where there were less people out and about. The Bounded Field was a little tricky to squeeze through, requiring utmost caution, but the Black faction's full attention at the moment was at the frontlines, which made it easier to slip in. Had it not been for that, I doubt my entry would go unnoticed.

I carefully traversed through the unnecessarily wide hallways swiftly like the wind itself. As expected, the homunculi roaming the place failed to notice my approach and went on their usual activities, leaving me free to wander around.

However, as soon as I turned a corner, my eyes widened in surprise as I encountered a pink-haired individual who evoked a sense of unbridled joy. Astolfo, the Rider of Black, stopped his gait, his eyes piercing through the veil of [Presence Concealment] and spotting me immediately.

"Uh… hi?" I waved nervously, unsure of what to do. Try as I might, there was no possible way for me to escape a Servant with my current speed.

"Hello!" he greeted back with vigour. "I haven't seen you before, are you new? No, you don't look like you're from here at all." He tilted his head and repeatedly tapped his chin, then gasped, "Oh! You're here on a super-duper secret spy mission, aren't you?" he guessed.

"Um… yes?" my response came out slowly, lacking in confidence. He wasn't wrong about me being here in secret, so I guess he's technically correct?

I went deep into my mind, recalling Astolfo's character. Apart from him being the poster-boy for male femininity, I distinctly remember him having a personality most would consider the epitome of both whimsy and heroic. So maybe the best choice here was to be honest? I wasn't sure. What I recall about him were from works of fiction, while this was real life, so things might not go how I remember it to.

"I knew it! I am Astolfo, one of Charlemagne's paladins! Also known as Rider of Black!" he revealed his name without me having to ask. It seems his personality remained true to my memories at the very least, so the chances of me dying during this unplanned meeting of ours is fairly low.

"Oh. I am Emiya Shirou, nice to meet you," I returned in kind, my tensing muscles slightly relaxing.

"Hm!" Astolfo nodded, as if satisfied by my answer. "Are you here to steal some secret intelligence, mister spy?"

I blinked, replying, "Should you really be asking that instead of kicking me out?"

"Come on, I won't tell anyone else, I promise!" Raising a hand, the paladin made a zipping motion on his lips.

"Uh… well, I'm here to stop this war by destroying the Greater Grail," I confessed after a bit of hesitation. Hopefully, by telling him this, he'll leave me be. "Can you do me a favour and forget I was here? It'll do me wonders," I pleaded.

After a moment of contemplation, the pink-haired Servant said, "I see! I don't know where it is, I wish you good luck, Shirou!" he encouraged. "Though as much as I want to talk to a fellow man of cuteness, I can't stay here any longer, my presence is required on the battlefield!" he proclaimed before running past me while humming a jolly tune to himself.

Processing Astolfo's parting words, my brows rose slightly. A fellow man of cuteness? "Huh, so he didn't mistake me for a girl, that's good," the corner of my lips curved upward a tiny bit, feeling as if a small crack within myself got fixed. I guess it is only natural for him of all people to know everything about cross-dressing.

Thankful, I left the area and breezed through the halls, evading the ever increasing number of guards in search for a passageway downward. I used [Structural Analysis] on the building itself in small bursts, hoping to find the entrance to the basement where I knew the Greater Grail was being kept, yet remained in the dark on where it was.

Without warning, a thunderous boom sounded from outside as I passed through a silent aisle. The ground quaked and the ceiling got peeled off like wet paper, revealing the starless sky, and throwing me off balance for a brief moment. I turned, looking out to find a gigantic humanoid figure, its hue earthly with several tentacle-like appendages sprouting from its back and shoulders, escaping from one of the castle walls and causing a collection of concrete blocks to rain from above.

"Witness my greatest creation!" Stood on the giant's shoulder was the Caster of black, his cape billowing in the wind. "Go forth, Adam! Let us bring Eden upon this world!" he ordered the colossal golem, his voice coated in utter glee.

Fearing for my safety, I bent my legs and launched forward, away from the towering giant before it squashed me into non-existence.

Meanwhile, atop the floating fortress that was the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the Caster of Red - also known as William Shakespeare - clapped his hands while speechifying the sudden appearance of the golem for his companion, who was preparing a mighty spell, to hear, much to their annoyance.

Escaping the area with my life intact, I resumed my search with haste while avoiding much of the chaos happening around the castle caused by Caster's actions. Eventually, after much exploring, I found exactly what I was looking for—a stairwell—and quickly descended down the stairs. The Bounded Fields erected around the place posed a bit of a problem, but with enough patience, I managed to breach through them all and arrived inside the castle's undercroft.

In the middle of the space, settled firmly atop a podium was an enormous weathered sphere with a vaguely star-shaped gap. Through the aperture, an assortment of humanoid figures that seemed to have been carved from stone could be seen gently cradling an orb that released an otherworldly glow.

Oddly enough, there were no homunculi, or any other personnel for that matter, to defend the relic from intruders, but there were at least half-a-dozen masterfully crafted offensive spells encasing the thing, preventing anyone from even nearing it, let alone interact with it. Avoiding Bounded Fields made for detection was easy enough, but ones made to attack anyone who gets close was out of my league at the moment, so I stayed just out of its range unless I wanted to be riddled with holes in seconds.

The Greater Grail, a nigh-omnipotent wishing device and ultimate prize of this war's victor, stood before me in all of its mystical glory, pulsing with enough magical energy to cloud my mind. I shook my head, regaining my senses, and willed my magic circuits to life in order to Project a Noble Phantasm. While my current proficiency with Projection magecraft might not be able to replicate a Noble Phantasm's full might, one or two strikes from a downgraded version of such armaments should be enough to destroy all of the magical barriers and give me access to the relic.

"Trace—!" Before I could finish the chant, a deafening rumble reverberated from all around. Fissures suddenly zipped across the surrounding walls and floor, forcing me to pause. Not a second later, the ceiling collapsed like a house of cards, revealing the Hanging Gardens of Babylon now hovering directly above the Yggdmillennia castle.

Instead of crashing down, however, the debris defied gravity and shot upwards into the sky as if magnetized by the flying fortress. Dust and rubble danced in the air, illuminated by the eerie glow of the Gardens. The castle shuddered, stonework cracking and splitting as it was drawn towards the sky.

Suddenly, I felt an invisible force wrench me off the ground. The sensation of weightlessness hit me as I was lifted into the air. My body rotated out of instinct, limbs swinging about in a vain attempt to find solid ground. Below, the Greater Grail lets out a piercing groan as the Bounded Fields covering it shattered, before being violently ripped from its post, launching into the sky at an alarming speed.

As the wish-granting artefact surged past my floundering figure, I quickly reoriented myself and reached out, digging my fingers into its crevices. The world blurred around me as I clung to the Greater Geail, the sheer force of its ascent threatening to fling me off. Wind whipped at my face, and the roar of displaced air filled my ears.

---

Shirou's ascent gradually slowed as he entered the flying Garden's center piece, giving him a moment to readjust his grip to not fall off. Soon enough, the Grail drifted inside an open space surrounded by sterile walls, even lighting, and thick pillars that held the ceiling, before stopping dead in the middle of it all. Letting go of the wish granting device, Shirou dropped to the ground, panting lightly.

Suddenly, his ears caught the distinct sound of footsteps echoing to his rear. Turning, the boy spotted a man with bleached hair, clad in vestments of a priest, standing a few meters away from him and the Grail, their eyes flashing with intrigue.

A brief staredown ensued as the two refused to speak even a single word, as if content on simply observing the other from a distance.

"My, I certainly did not expect you to be here," the priest began, breaking the silence between them.

The young Saint narrowed his eyes, berating himself internally for forgetting Semiramis' plan to take the magical sphere via gravitation magic. He was too focused on sneaking into the castle that it slipped past his mind.

Quickly sifting through his past life's memories, Shirou immediately determined their identity. "You are Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, correct?" he inquired.

From his faint recollection of Fate/Apocrypha, the white-haired man before him was the Ruler Servant that was forcefully called into existence by the Einzbern family during the previous Holy Grail War and survived till the modern day after having made contact with the Grail. After the conflict, he joined the Holy Church as Kotomine Risei's adopted son, then spent 20 years in the middle-east.

More importantly, he was also the true Master of every Servant, apart from Saber, within the Red Faction as he had stolen their Command Seals with Semiramis—Assassin of Red's help in order to win the Great Holy Grail War.

"That would be my old name, yes. I also go by Kotomine Shirou now," the priest confirmed, his fondess of his new name was evident. Oddly enough, he was not at all surprised at the fact that Shirou knew of his True Name despite not being a Servant himself.

"It is my pleasure to meet you, Emiya Shirou, the one blessed by His light in this day and age," Tokisada said, bowing out of respect of the boy's status as a living Saint. He knew of the redhead's name, of course. It was hard not to notice the only person who accompanied this War's Ruler-class Servant, Jeanne d'Arc, who's movements he'd been tracking since the start of the war.

Much like the priest, Shirou wasn't perturbed when his name left Tokisada's lips. It was only natural for Tokisada to know him as he didn't exactly do much to hide his presence all over Trifas. However there was one thing he was taken off guard by; the fact that the man knew of his 'title'.

"Care to satiate my curiosity of mine?" Tokisada asked. Shirou kept his silence, letting the man continue. "What is your purpose of coming here?"

"To destroy this thing and put an end to this entire event," Shirou answered honestly, motioning to the rocky sphere behind him.

The priest stared at the young man for a moment as if contemplating, before saying, "Why must you do so? Are we not under His tutelage? Under the same banner?"

Truth be told, Tokisada felt a little dumbfounded by the strong favour the boy seemed to have garnered from God. Shirou was unknowingly releasing a shred of it every waking moment, imbuing the air he passed through with a potent amount of holy energy, making him easily identifiable.

"I'm gonna be completely honest with you, I never planned on becoming one, it just happened one night. That's that." Shirou casually shrugged, but internally, his mind was whirling. 'How does he know that? Do I have a sign saying I'm a Saint on my back or something?' Apart from Jeanne, he's never mentioned his 'title' to anyone, not even to Reika as he deemed it unnecessary. Was it because the man was a Servant? Or can just about every member of the Church recognize if he was a Saint or not? He needed to do something about that later.

"Would it not be beneficial for us to work together as fellow worshippers of the Lord? Perhaps if you knew what I am after, you would understand." Amakusa Shirou Tokisada took a breath, then went on to speak about his wish, his motivation to win this War, hoping to convince the boy to turn to his side and join his cause.

He dreamed of providing humanity salvation, a paradise where no man, woman, or child would have to suffer through any form of hardship and live in total bliss for all eternity. Tokisada asked Shirou to take his side in a compassionate tone, but the latter shook his head in refusal.

"I was never a devout follower of God. I only go to church on occasions." Shirou felt the need to point that out. "And while your goal is certainly commendable," he pointed at the Greater Grail behind him with his thumb, "this rock won't—no, cannot fulfill such a thing," he declared, his voice filled with conviction, which confused Tokisada more than anything.

"And how would you know that?" How could the boy be so sure that the Grail wouldn't fulfill his ambition? He knew the steps to realize it; he would use Heaven's Feel to bring out the goodness within people, create a world where no one would shed a single tear out of sadness.

"I know a few things." The young Saint provided no real answer. While it might appear almighty, the Holy Grail had its limits on what it can do; creating a world of utter peace, devoid of any and all evil, was undoubtedly out of its reach. 'Not that I don't want such a world to exist, but it was an impossible task no matter how you look at it.'

Hearing his words, Tokisada's lips thinned into a line. He was confused more than anything at the boy's statement, the priest could tell Shirou knew more than he let on, yet refuses to disclose it. Was the boy mocking him, perhaps?

As if reading his mind, Shirou spoke, "Whether you believe me or not, I'll still have to destroy this thing at the end of the day. That I can't negotiate on."

"I see." Tokisada nodded, accepting Shirou's words with surprising calmness. "Then there is no point in continuing this conversation." He felt a pang of sadness at the thought of opposing a literal Saint, but the feeling faded away just as quickly as it appeared. Tokisada was prepared to do anything to achieve his goal, even if it meant getting rid of Shirou, a man blessed by God.

With a glimmer of light, his appearance made a drastic change. His hair now tied into a pony tail, donned a traditional samurai outfit with hints of European influence, and a katana appeared in his hand. Holding his weapon aloft, he declared, "I am Amakusa Shirou Tokisada."

The red-haired boy paused for a brief moment before responding in kind, "I am Shirou, Blade of Emiya." He did not know why introduced himself like that, but it felt just about right.

His magic circuits stirred awake, producing a blue haze around his form that transformed into Malenia's garbs, a burnished curved sword in hand. Next, he applied Reinforcement on every part of his body, bolstering his strength by many times.

Instead of directly confronting his adversary, however, Shirou pivoted on his foot and swiftly spun around, ready to cleave the Greater Grail in half with his weapon. But in the same instant, the former Ruler-class Servant appeared behind him with a burst of speed, forcing Shirou to halt his attack.

'Time Alter—Square Accel!' With a hurried spell, Shirou moved out of the way, barely evading the sharp edge of Tokisada's katana that nearly separated his head from his shoulders. Bearing witness to the Servant's agility, Shirou's heart pounded in his chest.

Sliding some distance away from the wishing device, the young Saint recovered his stance and saw a soft flicker at the edge of his vision. He threw his head to the side, dodging another attempt at his neck by the skin of his teeth.

Without wasting another moment, Ruler quickly withdrew and followed up with an upward strike to the chest, to which the redhead reacted by twisting his torso, but he wasn't fast enough and was grazed by the attack. His reinforced robe was effortlessly ripped open, doing next to nothing in terms of protection.

As Tokisada transitioned into a downward slash, Shirou adjusted his grip on his sword lashed out. The two blades clashed at the mid-point, sending sparks flying in the dim light of the chamber. Shirou managed to divert the katana's trajectory, missing him by a mere finger's length, however, this move left his center wide open.

Seizing the opportunity, Tokisada raised his leg and delivered a powerful kick to the young Saint's stomach, sending him flying across the enourmous room.

"Ugh!" Shirou cried out. He halted his roll and briskly rose to his feet just in time to find the tip of Tokisada's blade pointed right between his helm's visor. In a desperate attempt to escape the situation he found himself in, he overloaded his helmet with a large amount magical energy, bolstering its durability by several folds for a split second.

A resounding clang echoed throughout the space as Tokisada failed to penetrate the winged helm, much to his surprise. However, as a consequence for pumping more mana than it can realistically handle, Shirou's helmet shattered in spectacular fashion, revealing his face swathed in sweat.

Shirou took a step back and held his curved blade defensively, his eyes swirling with determination. The Servant spun and lunged with elegance, attempting to outmaneuver the Saint, who barely stood their ground by deflecting the attacks coming his way.

The glint of steel filled the air as the two swordsmen executed a dance of masterful swordplay. To an outsider's perspective, the two fighters appeared evenly matched, but that couldn't have been more far from the truth. The young Saint was losing—badly. He never once made an initiative or countered for he was utterly outclassed in pure physical might. Given enough time, he would tire out and lose focus, which would lead to his demise.

In the midst of their clash, Shirou's persistence paid off as he finally broke through the Servant's guard for once, landing a kick to their abdomen that amounted to practically nothing apart from pushing his enemy back.

Halting his slide, Tokisada stabbed his weapon on the ground and chanted, "Set!" Behind him, a dozen katanas emerged out of multiple magic circles, primed and ready to skewer the living Saint. With a burst of speed, the swords threw themselves in Shirou's direction, cutting the wind as it passed.

"Trace on!" Using Projection, Shirou created his own line of armaments in response. With a thought, his creations launched forward to intercept the projectiles. A collection of sparks exploded in the air like fireworks in the night sky as the two opposing forces met in the middle.

Unfortunately for Shirou, however, his ability to create and manipulate blades in mid-air wasn't on the level where he could hurl them with the force of a bullet, so he had to conjure two or more swords in order to stop a single surging katana that flew towards him at incredible speeds.

The former Ruler moved, appearing in front of the Saint in the blink of an eye. The redhead executed a wide, sweeping swing in front of him, forcing Tokisada to momentarily stop his stride. Next, he threw a myriad of feints from all sorts of angles, yet the Servant saw through his ploy and parried the real slashes, then threw a steadfast cut that left a deep gnash on Shirou waist.

Ignoring the pain, he launched a barrage of strikes, hacking with a whirlwind of fury, driving his opponent back as they skillfully blocked and evaded each attack.

As the battle raged on, Tokisada exploited a momentary lapse in the boy's concentration, delivering a precise strike that slipped through their guard. Belatedly, Shirou moved his arm in front of him to block the attack.

The katana's keen edge easily sliced through the Saint's flesh before stopping halfway as the sound of metal brushing against metal reached Tokisada's ear. Looking closely, he could see tiny blades sticking out of the boy's flesh, preventing his katana from going any further.

With a forceful tug, he retrieved his weapon from the Saint's limb and raised it high, about to swing. But in the corner of his eyes, Tokisada saw a metallic gleam and leapt backward, avoiding the rain of steel that riddled the spot he was previously standing on.

Shirou took this opportunity to gain some distance between them and shot at the Servant with his bow, but to no avail. Tokisada deftly handled his weapon, deflecting the incoming shower of swords, steadily advancing towards his adversary's retreating form while hurtling an assortment of curved blades of his own from magic circles at the young Saint.

The boy wracked his head, attempting to think of a way to win this battle. With time, he slowly formed a rather ludicrous plan. A cloud of magical energy manifested around his left hand that quickly rook the form of the Hunter Pistol.

'I am the bone of my sword,' he recited internally. Deep within, his soulscape reacted to the prayer. Evading another deadly projectile aimed for his head, he resumed, 'Steel is my body, and fire is my blood.'

Usually, when Shirou recited the aria for Unlimited Blade Works, he would simply bring out the countless armaments resting inside it, but this time, he wasn't doing that; it was indeed a call of arms like always, but instead of weapons, he was reaching for the Reality Marble itself by condensing it's entire essence into a small point in space—inside the Hunter Pistol's singular chamber.

Nearing the redhead, Tokisada's unwavering assault led to a critical moment where he successfully exploited a gap in Shirou's defenses, delivering a devastating blow to the boy's chest. Like hot knife through butter, the katana effortlessly impaled itself into Shirou's chest, had he not jerked his body to the side at the last second, it would've struck his heart.

Shirou winced, wracked with pain, yet a manic smile slowly formed on his lips, prompting a foreboding feeling to travel across the Servant's back. The former Ruler tried to withdraw his weapon from the boy's torso, but failed as Shirou's hand snapped forward, taking firm hold of his wrist and keeping him in place.

Lifting his arm, the redhead pointed the tip of the gun at the Servant and pulled the trigger, resulting in a loud bang to reverberate across the area.

In a hurry, Tokisada moved his empty hand out front to swat away the odd, blackened bullet that came barreling out of the pistol. He did not know why, but he felt a strand of connection to the object, but he threw that feeling at the back of his mind and proceeded to smack it. Unfortunately for him, that was the biggest mistake he could ever make at this moment.

To his shock, the bullet pierced his skin and dug into his flesh instead of bouncing off it. Caught by surprise, he flicked his captured hand, forcing the boy to let go, and abandoned his sword to leap a couple meters away from the young man.

He drew a sharp breath as a collection of steel violently emerged from under his muscles, causing a copious amount of blood to spurt out. The mysterious phenomena started from his hand, then quickly climbed up to his wrist and forearm. Panicked, he briskly took a new katana out of a magic circle and separated the affected arm off his shoulder without an ounce of hesitation. As the disconnected limb dropped to the ground, he watched in horror as it was swallowed whole by many layers of metallic protrusions.

Meanwhile, Shirou unsheathed the blade out of his chest with gritted teeth, tossing it to the floor. Now given a much needed respite, he turned to his true target in the distance. With a clear line of sight, he summoned a different bow and a large sword, both pulsing with power. He set the sword's pommel onto the string and pulled back, straining his arm in the process due to the bow's immense draw-weight.

"—O sword, let thee be filled." The former Ruler heard the boy speak. He lifted his head and couldn't help but widen his eyes. In the Saint's hand was a familiar pair of objects, the Archer of Red's bow and the Saber of Black's greatsword, which was notched onto said bow how an ordinary arrow would.

Tokisada stared, his shock evident. They were undoubtedly Noble Phantasms, he could tell that much. As for how the boy came to possess such armaments in the first place, he did not know. Not once did he witness Shirou do something like this throughout the entire time he'd observed him.

A pattern of bright cracks spread across the fabled sword's surface like spiderwebs as Shirou injected far more mana than it could hold. "Balmung!" he yelled, releasing the cord in his hand. The projectile whizzed through the air at the unbelievable speed towards the magical sphere in the center of the room.

"No!" Seeing the projectile's intended recipient, Tokisada shouted in fright. He dismissed the questions forming in his mind and crouched low, knees bent, and jumped with all his strength, landing in front of the flying sword's path to stop it.

Upon making contact with Servant, the Noble Phantasm produced a blinding shine before exploding with an earsplitting boom right after. Tokisada was unceremoniously propelled into the air, spinning and crashing through multiple pillars before stopping a great distance away, blanketed with stone and concrete. His clothing were torn and blackened, skin singed by the heat of the explosion. Combined with his missing arm, he looked absolutely worse for wear.

Back to Shirou, he summoned another Noble Phantasm and spoke, "O sword, let thee be filled—!" After finishing his words, a mouthful of blood escaped his lips, dripping down his chin. His body was under intense pain, as if a rod of pure fire had inserted itself into his spine. Despite its attempts to counteract the extensive damage being done throughout his body, Avalon ultimately failed to prevent a lock of hair near his temple from whitening.

Projecting Noble Phantasms, even weakened ones, wasn't an easy task to accomplish even with his vast amounts of mana reserves. His mind threatened to break, going in and out of conciousness as he prepared to shoot another 'arrow' at the wishing device.

"What!?" Tokisada gasped, unable to believe what he was seeing. He just bore witness to a human creating a Noble Phantasm of all things out of nothing, how was that even possible? He tried to lift himself off the ground, but his legs buckled underneath him, causing him to collapse.

Powerless to do anything, he yelled at the Saint, a hint of desperation in his voice, "Stop it!" He was so close to achieving his dream. He couldn't let the chance to slip away from his hands.

However, the young Saint did not listen to his words and evoked the greatsword's name, "Balmung!" Whistling through the air like a call of death, the dragon slaying sword reached the Greater Grail in the blink of an eye, tearing through the relic's defenses with ease.

Tokisada's face betrayed a blank look, he could do nothing but watch as the ticket to realizing his ambition erupted into a fiery blast that easily liquified the surrounding area into molten silt. His back slumped onto the pillar to his rear as the Grail produced a grating creek, then broke into pieces.

[You have completed the Quest. You may return anytime within the given time frame, otherwise you'll be forcefully pulled back]

[59 minutes remaining until the Quest ends]

An ever familiar screen appeared before him. After reading it, he mentally made the screen disappear.

"Release." Shirou fell to his knees, blacking out for a brief moment as the spell's effects fizzled out. With a groan, he forced himself to stand and made his way towards the detonation's epicenter. He stepped into the chasm, almost falling over, and pocketed whatever fragment he could find that remained of the Grail in a hurry.

Amidst the sea of flames and destruction, he found a small marble that emitted a yellow glow. Curious, he picked the item up, only to let it go right after upon realizing that it was steaming hot. He took a small vial out of his lower pant pocket and drank it in one gulp, recovering a slight amount of mana back, then summoned multiple layers of fire-resistant fabric and wrapped it around the odd marble, taking it with him. Despite not knowing what it was, a small part of his fading mind felt it was important.

Emerging from the crater, Shirou found the former Ruler, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, with his back resting against a broken pillar, unmoving. He ignored the man and turned heels, leaving the scene in haste, lest he encounters the other occupants of the fortress. Thankfully, the Servants of Red were preoccupied by the battle occurring below, otherwise he would've been swarmed by them earlier.

He weaved through the winding halls and eventually arrived at a balcony overlooking the ruined Yggdmillennia castle below. Seeing the drop, he legs quivered slightly as the high winds whipped his messy hair around.

"You know what, screw it," he uttered, pushing through his fears, and vaulted over the railings in one swift motion. It was reckless, he knew, but it was either this or risk fighting more Servants. He could barely match one with everything he had, so his decision was obvious.

As gravity took hold over him, a wave of vigour encompassed his entire being, strengthening himself to mitigate the damage he was about to take. He collided into the Black Faction's base, prompting a grunt to escape his mouth as pieces of the structure joined his descent. Twisting mid-fall, he careened down its sheer walls, descending at a dizzying speed.

Thinking swiftly, Shirou summoned a blade and stabbed it into the building, putting an end to his free fall just as he was about to become one with the ground. Dropping, he dismissed the sword and pushed through the agony his body was being subjected to and sprinted away the best he could.

Meanwhile, within the throne room in the heart of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, two indivuals rested, spectating the events unfold behind a myriad of screens.

"Hah," the Caster of Red lets out a sigh, expressing his feelings at the current turn of events. Beneath the floating structure, his Caster-class counterpart cried out in distraught as Adam, the enourmous golem, slowly dissolved into nothingness. Caster shook his head, saying, "I suppose not all stories end with a flourish. Sometimes, it ends with a pitiful whimper."

For a war that involved a colourful cast of characters from across human history, it was a rather disappointing ending, if he were being honest.

"Why didn't you stop him! Couldn't you be useful for once!?" Semiramis, the Assassin of Red, snaps at the Caster clad in green as she inched closer to the edge of her throne. She herself could not leave where she sat and chase after the interloper, for her true powers depended on said throne of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.

"Perhaps your belief that I, a playwright, could stop someone who can seemingly create Noble Phantasms out of nowhere is a tad bit inflated and unfair?" Caster, or William Shakespeare, gave a calm rebuttal. A Servant he might be, but a fighter he wasn't. He wrote stories during his life, not engage in pugilistic combat like everyone else here.

The Assassin of Red clenched her fist and slammed the armrest of her chair in anger. They were so close, only for some random magus to take it all away.

Down on the ground, Darnic Prestone Yggdmillenia, leader of the Black Faction, stood in his lonesome inside the ruined castle that was once the Black Faction's base. His expression remained neutral even as everything he'd been working towards for the past several decades fell apart right in front of him.

Out of the blue, he felt a warm sensation spread across his chest. Looking down, he spotted a familiar spear that could only belong to his Servant—Lancer—going through his center.

"Darnic," a gruff, yet noble voice echoed from behind him. "You dare use a Command Seal to turn me into something disgraceful. As punishment for your transgression," the Lancer of Black, Vlad the third, withdrew his spear, taking Darnic's still beating heart along with it, "—die," Vlad III declared, his voice filled with authority, before dematerializing from the material plane in a shower of light.

Earlier, before the Greater Grail was destroyed, Darnic had used a Command Seal to forcefully empower his Servant, but it would also turn Lancer into a monster that he so vehemently loathed with every fiber of his being, hence Lancer's anger towards his Master.

Losing strength over his body, Darnic Prestone Yggdmillenia dropped to the ground with nothing more than a stiffled grunt, left alone to die from his wounds.

---

"My goodness, what happened to you!?" Reika's panicked voice reached my ears as I entered the apartment with a bit of difficulty.

"I'm... not doing too good. But I'll get better, I promise." My words did nothing to calm the green-haired lady. She rushed to my side and dragged me inside, setting me on the couch. "It's fine-it's fine, don't worry. I heal pretty fast."

I lifted my shirt, revealing my slim, yet toned waist that had more or less recovered from the prior intense altercation thanks to Avalon. Reika sighed and plopped down beside me, worry still on her face. She knew I was more resilient than most, but a dark cloud still swirled above her head. From behind, Jack the Ripper, clad in an adorable peach dress, made her appearance and went to her Master—or mother's side.

"Hello Jackie. You doing okay?" I greeted the Assassin-class Servant.

A frown marred the little albino's cute face. "Um, I feel weird?" she said while scanning herself from top to bottom, as if searching for the source of the odd sensation.

"Is something wrong Jackie? Did you eat something weird?" Reika asked worriedly, a motherly aura surrounding her figure.

Before little Jack could open her mouth, I answered for her, "Don't worry about it. Here, drink this, it'll go away for a bit." I created a juice carton with Projection and handed it to Jack, who happily took it. "I'll need to do something real quick so the weird feeling doesn't happen again," I reassured the pair.

A little later, after regaining my breath, I stood up and spilled the contents in pocket onto the table. Using my admittedly limited, but useful knowledge in the art of thaumaturgy, I swiftly put together a necklace with a small decorative piece made with a fragment of the Greater Grail hanging in the middle.

I could feel that the shard still generated and circulated magical energy, more than enough to keep Jack from vanishing altogether for years to come. There were better ways to do this, maybe something that involved the Command Seals Reika had, but I did not want to mess with things I do not understand. Maybe I'll end up doing something stupid and accidentally cause Jack to permanently disappear, and I did not want that.

Crouching down, I faced the white-haired Servant and wrapped the magical accessory around her neck. "A gift, from me. With this, you'll stay with mommy for a long time. Don't lose it, alright?" Assassin looked at it in wonder, feeling her mana reserves recover at a rapid pace.

In the corner of my eye, a few System notifications pop up, telling me that I have completed a rather chunky side-quest and had leveled up multiple times. 10 consecutive times, to be exact. I was now level 30, much to my shock.

Right on cue, the front door opened to reveal Jeanne's figure clad in a jacket and shorts. We greeted the Saintess warmly as she joined us in the living room.

"The Servants begun disappearing one by one. I'm guessing you did it, Shirou?" she looked at me and asked, to which I responded with a nod. "I see. Soon enough, I will also disappear."

"Jeanne, if you want, I can make another one of these." I pointed at the necklace that provided the Jack mana, giving her a way to stay if she wanted.

"No, Shirou," she shook her head. "I mustn't overstay my welcome. Besides, I wouldn't want to take more of Laeticia's time more than I already have," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Okay…" I decided not to tell her otherwise and went to the kitchen area, saying, "While we're still here, how about a meal? A last supper, you might say."

Jeanne and Reika gave a positive response. Jack on the other hand, gave a spirit answer, "Can we have burgers?"

"Of course, Jackie. We can," I smiled and started preparing food for the four of us.

Sizzling onions filled the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma. I flipped juicy patties on the grill, the rich scent of beef wafting through the air. On the side, I tossed a fresh salad with vibrant greens and cherry tomatoes. Golden fries crisped in the oven, ready to accompany the burgers. Melting cheddar over the patties, I then stacked them high with lettuce, tomato, and pickles. With a final flourish, I plated the meal, the colorful array of food a feast for the eyes and a promise of deliciousness.

"Here, enjoy." I let out a smile while setting the dishes on the table. The four of us then ate in comfortable silence, except for Jack who kept exclaiming in delight each time she took a bite, making Jeanne and Reika giggle.

After the fact, we sat in the living room, watching as embers of magical energy left Jeanne's form, indicating her departure.

"I guess this is goodbye," the Saintess solemnly said.

"Bye-bye, auntie." Jack gave the Saintess a tight hug. All of us gave her a tearful send off as the Saint of Orleans left for the immaterial. Laeticia, now without the soul of Jeanne, lied comfortably on the couch in a blissful slumber.

Reika turned to me and asked, "Are you leaving as well, Shirou?"

I glanced at the System's timer. [3 minutes remaining until the Quest is over]

"Yes. I can't stay here for long, and I'm really sorry for leaving Laeticia in your hands," I replied, my voice tinged with a hint of guilt mixed with sadness.

"Don't be, you and Jeanne had given me more than enough. And I'll make sure Laeticia returns home safely, Jackie is pretty strong, I'll tell you," she reassured.

"Okay. The paperwork for this place and some extra cash are inside there," I pointed at a drawer. "Don't go causing trouble now, alright?" I gave the pair a heartfelt hug, said my farewells, and manually chose to return to my world with a mental command.

Right before their eyes, Shirou's form was covered in a bright column of light, as if an Angel had been recalled into God's domain.

The light gradually died down, returning my vision. I looked around and found myself gazing at the unchanged state of my smithy. I searched my person and found the now cooled amber ball, which emitted vast amounts of mana, inside my pocket, alongside a few pieces of the Greater Grail that I had taken. They seem to have remained with me, that's good. I don't know what I'm going to do with them, but they'll surely have their uses in the future.

"I'm back." Turning, I immediately bolted out of the shed and entered my not-so-humble abode and found Sakura inside the kitchen area wearing an apron, stirring a pot, and a certain Tiger lounging in the living room dressed in a school uniform, lazily watching the television.

Despite spending a couple of days in Trifas, it appears as if I have never left in the first place. 'Huh, I guess my time in that world didn't affect this one?' I sighed in relief at the discovery. Thank goodness for that.

"Senpai?" Sakura noticed Shirou's entry. She realized that a small part of the boy's hair had turned white, but didn't say anything for now, focusing on the task at hand.

"Yes?" I faced her, asking, "Do you need some help?"

"Ah, no. It's almost finished, there's no need." She waved her hand, a warm smile on her lips.

Nodding, I made my way to the common room and sat down. Taiga took her eyes off the TV, finally noticing me. "Ah, Shirou! You're finally out of that messy workshop of yours. You should spend some more time outside," she said, almost complaining.

"Hello, Fuji-nee," I greeted back. "And I'll have you know that my smithy isn't even that messy, I clean it everyday." I'm fairly certain my penchant for cleanliness had turned into an obsession by now.

"Hm? What happened to your hair?" she asked. I twirled the bleached tresses with my finger, claiming it was from stress, to which she let out a laugh, looking all smug. "See? I told you to go outside, you're already starting to look like an old man from hammering metal all the time!"

We went back and forth, exchanging words before she inevitable went back to watching the television. She didn't appear all to worried that a child was starting to lose colour in their hair, instead choosing to make fun of it.

While waiting for Sakura to finish cooking, I opened the System in order to check on the notifications that had been blaring at the edge of my vision for a hot minute now, demanding my attention.

[You have completed the Quest. Please initiate a spin to receive a random Noble Phantasm as your reward]

'A gacha element? Are you kidding me?' I stared incuriously at the screen, then activated the so called "spin" with a mental push on my part.

I frowned as the ticking noise of a spinning wheel entered my ears. There wasn't even an animation to accompany it, there was literally nothing for me to even look at. All I could do was stare at the interface and wait for it to finish doing its thing.

[Noble Phantasm 'Gate of Babylon (E)' has been acquired]

'What!?' My eyes widened, utterly dumbfounded. I opened the newly added "Noble Phantasm" section at the bottom of the System display to take a look at my newly acquired ability in excitement.

As I read it's contents, however, the smile on my lips gradually curved into an straight line.

—

[Gate of Babylon (E)]
- The King of Uruk's treasury. It is the storehouse that Gilgamesh had built to store all the treasures he claimed in life. Now it lays barren, devoid of any treasure, waiting for it's new owner to restore it to it's former glory.

—

'Oh…' I breathed out in disappointment. 'I guess you can't have everything you want.' Still, it was pretty useful in its own right even if it had nothing inside. I finally have an inventory space to store all my things without having to carry them in a bag.

More importantly, it was one hundred percent mine and not a replica like the ones within Unlimited Blade Works—it was a genuine Noble Phantasm. Satisfied with what I got, I pushed the interface away. What did this mean, though? Does Gilgamesh know I have an empty form of his treasury? Guess I will never know unless he shows up.

Shortly after, Sakura joined us on the table with a handful of dishes to feed at least 4 to 5 people, even though there was only 3 of us. Of course, most of it would probably end up inside Taiga's seemingly bottomless stomach. While I might have just eaten earlier, Sakura's cooking still made my stomach growl as if it were empty.

---

Here I stood, in front of a large mansion's front door that belonged the one and only Rin Tohsaka, the Second Owner of Fuyuki.

"Knock-knock!" I vocalized while knocking on the door at the same time. "I know you're in there, Rin!" I called out to the manor's sole occupant. Some seconds later, the door opened a bit to reveal a tired looking Rin sporting her signature twin-tails. She held the door, glaring at me from beyond the crack.

"Are you gonna let me in or no?" I asked.

With a sigh, the Magus of Thighs, as I liked to refer to her in my head, opened the door, letting me inside her home. Closing the entrance, she spoke, "So, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to give you your breakfast. You need to take better care of yourself instead of drowning yourself in books, Rin." I dangled the container in my hand for her to see.

"I'm doing just fine, thank you." She flicked her hair back and crossed her arm across her chest. "And how many times have I told you to not come here?"

"Always, pretty much," I shrugged.

She tapped her arm with her finger. "So why are you here?"

"Because you let me in? And still continue to allow me entry when I ask?" I countered dryly. Despite telling me not to return, she still let me inside without a problem, and I know the exact reason why. "Face it, you can't even live without my or Sakura's home-cooked meals at this point, don't even deny it"

She ignored the heat flushing through her cheeks and responded with a small stutter, "I-I told you, I can handle myself—" before Rin could finish her sentence, I spoke over her.

"Nuh-uh." I wagged my finger. "Here, your favorite." Before she even knew it, the table was already neatly ladened with food I knew she liked.

"Y-you insufferable man! Why can't you just listen!" she exclaimed, but her body remained true to her desires. She was already settled comfortably on the chair, mouth watering as she stared at the assortment of food in front of her.

"Heh," I chuckled, causing the young woman to let out a stern "Shut". If her mouth weren't stuffed to the brim, I would've found the glare she was sending my way mildly threatening.

I stayed until she finished, messing with her all the while, then cleaned the dishes and left shortly after. By the doorway, I raise my hand and ruffled her head, before Rin pushed it away with a huff.

[Skill 'Head pat' has leveled up to E - 3] A translucent screen appeared, and was swiped away just as quickly as it appeared.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow, Rin," I waved her goodbye with a smile.

"Just get out of here," she replied, a faint shade of red tinting her cheeks.

Upon reaching my home, my jolly attitude got replaced by a cold exterior as I spotted a group of people dressed in priestly garbs standing in the front gate of the Emiya residence. Hearing my approach, they turned to look at me, reverence flashing through their eyes.

One of them stepped forward and said, "Greetings, Emiya Shirou. I am Garcia Cane, a representative of the Church."

"What do you want?" I asked with narrowed eyes, making my feelings about their sudden visit known. As if reacting to my emotions, the calm winds slowly kicked up a notch.

"At ease, there's no need for hostilities," he raised his hand reassuringly. "We are under direct order of his Holiness. And we ask only for a bit of your time to discuss some things."

A frown took over my lips. It seems my title had brought me more trouble than I thought. I hope to God they didn't come here for any nefarious reasons, I just got out of a war and want to relax for a bit.

END.

Author's notes: Brain fog sucks absolute balls. It feels like my mind just regressed by a decade.

I've forgotten so many things; words, simple phrases and such, so this chapter might not read that well. I'm sorry.