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Chapter 2 The Knight in the Night
Eyes of burning gold and molten iron bore into Artoria's deep sea blue.
She sat there, too petrified by his magnificence, with her mouth hanging wide open.
"Urgh.", was her intelligent answer.
Her servant stifled a laugh. Her eyebrows ticked. 'Thi-this guy!', she thought furiously. 'He's making fun of me!'
"Yes, I am your master, so STOP MAKING FUN of me!", she shouted with an indignant pout.
Her servant only doubled up in fits of laughter. Artoria seriously considered using a command seal just to shut him up. As if sensing her ominous aura, her servant held up his hands in placation.
"Sorry, little girl. This old man was just surprised at how adorable you can be."
"Ado-, Wha wa wa wa wa whaaaaaaaaaaat!?",
Artoria flushed bright red. She swore steam must be flooding out of her eardrums. This guy was just unbelievable!
"I heeded your call as servant of class Saber. As for my identity…I believe you already know."
'At least part of it.', he deviously thought. The fuming Artoria perked up, eyes glowing with excitement.
"Yes. YES! Of course, I know who you are! You are Seng-"
The servant leaned over and put a finger on her lips. Artoria flushed red once more, too inexperienced to brush off his intimacy. It didn't help his torso was half-naked. Curse his great abs.
"Hush. The wall has ears, dear master of mine. Just call me…"
He crossed his arms, feet tapping against the concrete as he thought.
"…Yes, just call me 'Shiro'. Ha! That would do."
He chuckled as Artoria blinked in confusion. Her eyes lit up once more as an idea popped up in her mind.
"Shiro? May I ask why? Is it some hidden identity!?"
Shiro laughed, his deep, rich sound reverberating in the small storage house.
"Something like that. Let's just say…it's the name of my 'Hero'!"
Shiro burst out into fits of laughter as if this was some hilarious 'inside' joke. 'Am I right, young lad?', he questioned his mental landscape-an endless field of undying flames and smoldering embers, decorated with countless blades he once forged.
After a few moments, a tired voice answered him. 'Leave me alone. Give me some peace and quiet. Just commit suicide and end this farce.'
Shiro, or in this case, Sengo Muramasa grinned mischievously.
'Aww, getting shy in front of your girlfriend? Eh, Emiya-kun?', he teased.
'Shut up, old man. She's NOT my girlfriend. They are fundamentally different. Besides, in case you haven't noticed, I have other things to attend to such as my noble phantasm mutating into something completely different.'
'Meh, younglings. Always bitching about something insignificant like the world is about to end! Besides, forging blades into something better is way more fun than spamming cheap copies!"
'…Tsk. Sorry to disappoint you. That golden bastard did call me a faker for obvious reasons.'
'...By the way, you sure you don't want to switch?'
'Stop offering me that position like you're pitying me!'
'Shame. Oh, can you lend me those prized copies of Kansho and Bakuya of yours? I would like to add some changes of my own.'
'Only if you stop making fun of me at every chance you get.'
'Fine, fine! Spoilsport. …Oh yes, please keep in mind that the way you spam swords heavily insults most blacksmiths.'
'…Is that the reason you're making fun of me?'
'Not at all! You are just so fun to pick at!'
'….'
'Come on, don't ruin the fun of old guys! We love to tease young ones!'
'…Here are your copies. Begone, old goat.'
Shiro felt his mental connection click shut. The Emiya boy was always so easy to muddle with. He reminded him of his grandson. It seemed so long ago….
"Saber? What happened?", Artoria asked worriedly.
Shiro dismissed her concern with a lazy wave.
"Nothing. Just making sure of my capabilities, skills, servant stuff."
"Oh.", she said with a relieved nod. "Your stats are rather low for a saber, but you do have some unique skills, as expected from the greatest blacksmith!"
Artoria puffed her chest as she proudly declared the last part of her sentence. Shiro rolled his eyes. He flicked her forehead with his index finger.
"Hey! What was that for!?", she protested.
"Never overestimate your sword before you use it, O young master of mine.", he warned.
Artoria nodded bashfully, her ears burning with embarrassment at being told off like a little child. Shiro patted her head affectionately.
"Now, what shall we do, master? Chill out in our territory, or-"
With a flick of his hand, Shiro threw a plane katana into the empty space before him.
"-have a nice chat with the Assassin?"
He was an 'irregular'. Under normal circumstances, he would've never be called on stage. Someone else, yes. Not him. Anyone but him.
He was the archangel of death. He was the very first of the assassins. He was the blade that transcends humanity, a blade that severs all immorality and immortality.
His master, a man of the church, had severely disappointed him. A poor man he was, without conviction, without direction in life. His only bliss was to plunder in the misfortune of others, relishing in their pain.
He had severed his ties with his master and warned him NOT to try anything with his new master. Yes, his daughter. Caren Hortensia. A girl who had similar problems with her father, but had a strong belief in saving people.
Not completely satisfactory, but she will do. He had worse disciples than her. Now that he attained a somewhat decent master, he decided to spy on the other candidates to make sure they were worthy.
And what a master he found! The eyes of death perception, one of the most lethal mystic eyes in the arcane world. What he did not expect, was that her servant managed to find him in the shadows. Him, the assassin.
The old man twiddled the plane katana blade between his fingers in deep interest. A Saber. A Japanese Saber. Someone with great sense? No, not even the other Hassans had the slightest clue when he kept himself hidden. Hmm…something other to do with biological perception, perhaps?
"Hey, let's talk this out like the old men from the mountains we are, right?"
…This man. He was sure of it. He somehow knew his identity. Of course, he also knew that his name was famous. However, pinpointing him from the other Hassans was an entirely different tale. The old man of the mountains.
The first Hassan stepped forward. Ghastly shadows incessantly curled around his massive armored body with every silent step. On his face, he wore a skull mask with orbs of ghostly pale-blue flames withering in its hollow eyes.
A giant spiked shield in one hand, and a great bastard sword with Hellfire licking its edges in another, he looked nothing more alike to a demon knight straight from the depths of hell.
Shiro, however, wasn't fazed in the slightest. No, his face looked ecstatic as he hungrily fixed his gaze onto the Hassan's bastard sword, as if the sword itself was a slab of savory meat.
Hassan inspected him closely and noticed how Shiro's eyes seem to glow in the color of molten iron when he drooled over his weapon. He now had a vague idea of how Shiro pinpointed him despite his extraordinary presence-concealment.
Artoria facepalmed at Shiro's queer attitude. There's an enemy servant right before his eyes and he still had the guts to fawn over some huge sword! Not to mention that this Assassin is really spooking her out!
"You are a blacksmith. A man who learned sword arts to forge."
Artoria swore that she nearly jumped out of her skin. So this is what Assassins sound like. CREEPY!
Shiro raised his head, an enormous grin split from ear to ear.
"I knew a man of caliber alike you would find out! Oh, thanks for your gift! It's not every day I get to see up close the personal weapon of the Hassan."
"….."
To Artoria's surprise, the Hassan inclined his head in acknowledgment. …Wait, did her servant just say, 'the Hassan'? Like, in the old man of the mountains!? The legendary Hassan!?
Artoria whimpered. She SO wanted to quit. NOW.
"A man that lives in the blade is no different than I."
"An honor indeed. I would've never dreamed that the Hassan of all people would approve my skills."
The two kept talking in an even tone, with not a speck of ill-feeling between. Alas, the neutral zone was short-lived as the somewhat friendly chat took a deep dive with Shiro's words.
"Now that we are acquainted with one another, shall we begin?"
"Invitation accepted."
A taut silence. A clock ticked. Then, the blades struck.
White and black blades formed in Shiro's hands, only for them to transform into something entirely different. Two katana blades, half-black, half-white.
They danced through the air with acute precision, slicing parts where it's least guarded. The katanas seemed to fly on their own will, twirling and spinning around in his hands to counter-stab at impossible angles.
On contrary to Artoria's beliefs, the Assassin matched Shiro's explosive speed head-on with his heavy sword. The assassin blocked the most dangerous strikes and retaliated tenfold with thundering strikes of his own that split the earth in half.
Shiro leaped back and onto the roads outside, his right arm heaved back, muscles bulging. He then threw the katana to buy time, both hands now wrapped around his left blade.
The Assassin easily parried the katana which flew off into the distance and landed a heavy stomp on Shiro's overextended slash. The frail katana broke in half as it dissipated into molts of light, leaving a vulnerable Shiro behind.
Artoria opened her mouth to use a command seal, but stopped when she noticed Shiro's calm eyes staring back.
The faint whistle was all that gave it away. Hassan deflected the katana from behind with his sword-hilt and simultaneously roundhouse-kicked Shiro.
Shiro ducked as Hassan's mighty leg blasted past his ear by inches, teeth grinding as he spun mid-air. He used the momentum to counter with a low whirlwind-slash from his newly forged katana；its blade reinforced with blue veins of arcane energy.
The Hassan obviously expected that, since he melted away into blackish smoke, leaving Shiro's katana to cleave the air. What he did not expect, was Shiro's following attack.
Shiro knew from the presence of Hassan's blade that he would chop his neck off from behind. He also knew that he wouldn't have enough time to parry it. By normal sword arts, that is.
Once upon a time, there was said to be a man who trained katana arts day and night. He trained every minute, every second. The blade was ridiculously long and fragile, making it almost impossible to wield.
Nonetheless, the man prevailed. Through day and night, rain and storms he trained. Everyone thought him to be nothing more than a mad farmer, but still, he trained.
One day, he sought to kill a swallow with his long, long katana. Alas, the swallows were fickle creatures as they weaved and ducked, or flew right out of reach.
However, he kept trying. Again and again and again. Then, before he knew it, his skill ascended from the physical plane. One slash for the earth, one slash for the heavens, and one slash to cleave them all.
A sword technique that rivals Noble Phantasms, attained only with human techniques, the epitome of mortal skill. An ultimate move, one that delivers a cut that consists of three slashes that overlap in the absolute same passage of time. A sword art that transcends dimensions.
The multi-dimensional refraction phenomenon.
Lo and behold, the story about the lack of compromise, a mortal man who reached the blessings of the sword just for such a meager reason.
This is no more a sword that kills fleeting swallows, but a mystic blade that reached the gods. A mortal blade that achieved the divine by pure technique.
The katana glowed in Shiro's hands as it enlarged itself, growing longer, longer, and longer. His breath came out in a hiss of hot steam as ethereal magical circuits flared to life.
His body was no longer that of a blacksmith, but a sword of swallows.
"Tsubame Gaeshi (Swallow Reversal)."
The name came out in a faint whisper.
Three became one. The reincarnation of an untold legend.
In that very moment, that instant, Shiro knew that his blade has reached the Lord of Death.
Phew. Why is gramps here? What is wrong with this Holy Grail?
Something to do with little Angra Mainyu? Perhaps, perhaps not.
Review if you have questions! X-kalibuuuur, over and out!