Weapons

The sound of the hammer striking the metal rang out as Shirou beat the sword into shape. He returned it to the heat before taking another rod of metal and hammering it out longer. After some time he allowed a waiting assistant to help with the other blade, both of them performing the required heat treating to make the swords resistant to breaking.

Minutes later both swords were ready to have their edges formed so he passed one of the swords to his assistant while taking the other himself. He and his assistant began grinding an edge into them.

After some more time, both blades were sharp. These were not to be fancy so all that was done was to attach the guard in a way that wouldn't break off.

He had been working at this for a few hours, his assistance switching out every few blades. He could make swords without them but they were also there to ensure he didn't sabotage anything while he was there. He still wasn't entirely trusted by most of the army.

Finally he agreed to take a break, the other craftsman watched him leave with a strange look of wariness and envy. Any one could create a high quality sword but Shirou was quickly creating swords of a decent quality.

They still were in awe of the first blade he made, all the craftsman had heard of Insulation coatings used in the quenching but they were of the mind that it wasn't often worth it as they were used to making double edge blades. Shirou on the other hand had made a wakizashi as a single edged blade.

It wasn't merely that he properly made a single edged blade but more that he created one of a high quality.

Either way, it was not the best sword. Shirou had seen weapons used by the army that were far better, in the end the wakizashi was just the piece used to prove his training to the other smiths.

He went outside to watch the setting sun and closed his eyes, A strange feeling had crossed him as he made those blades. They had placed themselves within his reality marble, mostly as nameless swords.

He checked around to see if he was being watched before holding out his hand.

He began to trace the wakizashi that was currently sitting in the weapon racks.

He knew innately it's creation so the process went smoothly until 'Sympathizing with the experience of its growth'.

He closed his eyes and simply remembered what the sword was. Made as a proof that he could make. Never yet wielded in combat but forged to make it a good sword.

He continued, only a few hours to reproduce. In a way the sword was still cooling, the last of the heat bleeding out.

Finally 'Excelling every manufacturing process' the blade was done. In his hand he held the sword. Somehow it felt 'right'.

He held it in his hand and swung it, cutting the air. It was fine. It didn't slip from his hand.

Was that it then? Could he only trace blades he had made himself? If that was it then his options were very limited.

He wondered at the state of his marble. While he was now meant to be some great king, his greatest asset was now flawed.

That night, as he slept, he dreamed of swords.

It wasn't a new dream, he had dreamed of swords many times before. The swords plunged themselves into the ground of what looked like a muddy hill.

There were many such muddy hill around him but in a dip in the ground between them was what looked like a metalworking shop. In his dream he wandered down to the forge to look inside. In a basket there was haematite in various sizes, in another were coals of various qualities. In both he could innately sense how good the quality of any individual piece was. The forge was unlit and empty of coals. On the wall was a collection of tools, everything needed to forge a weapon.

After looking around some more, his dream self left the metalworking shop to see the hills had been filled with swords, he almost knew them somehow but before he got a close enough look at any of them he looked up to see a great sun shine down on the hills. Something within him insisted that this would dry the mud and cause the world to become a cracked and ruined place. Instead, around the base of the metalworking shop, green began to poke from the ground. Just at the edges of this place but grass shot up.

The grass continued to grow around the metalworking shop but it only seemed able to grow within a few meters of the shop. He glanced around more and saw how a few swords had grass of their own. All the swords he had made today had maybe a few centimeters of grass around them.

Before the dream ended he heard a voice that shook the air "Shirou Emiya, creator of swords, thou have a new world to rule. The new world of you, having itself been reforged by my light."

Shirou would have asked questions about the voice but he could feel the world fading away.

In the morning he woke, and thought about his bladeworks. He sensed the change when it first occured but it still felt odd to him that his very soul could change so much without changing who he was.

All the blades are still there, none were lost. Surely if a blade couldn't be traced anymore it would be lost from the bladeworks. So that went to reason the old weapons could still be traced but it required a different method.

A method he would discover.

End of chapter.

So yes, Shirou's reality marble has changed. The next few chapters will be him trying to figure out how these new changes work before the army ships off to the blessed isle.

For those who don't think the reality marble should have changed (Either because it shouldn't be able to or because it would destroy Shirou) just think of it as divine intervention while he underwent his Exaltation.

And yes, the hill of swords is now mud instead of sand, living things seem to be able to grow there too.