Second Morning (3)
Kirei Kotomine waded through a rain of blades, Black Keys flashing and feet finding sure purchase in their trek towards his target.
Scimitars, estocs, broadswords, claymores...every fathomable make and style of sword throughout Human history whirled and slashed in his direction, all immaculate strikes that would have crippled or wounded him severely.
Tendons, nerve clusters, sensory organs...all it would take is one simple mistake and the battle would Shirou's.
Not a single error was made. After all, Kirei was the one who had trained the young man, the one who had taught him the very same techniques he was employing...more importantly, he knew of their limitations.
The second Magus Killer could only manifest his weapons five meters within range of his body, no further. He could only summon and fire off ten weapons at a time, otherwise the speed and acceleration of said weapons would degrade heavily. And, most importantly, to manifest his more powerful mystic codes and phantasms would take at least two seconds of proper concentration.
Granted, Kirei wouldn't call two seconds of concentration to summon inordinately powerful weapons of myth a 'weakness' against most foes...but in this particular case two seconds was all he would need to kill his student, so familiar they were with the other's abilities.
Two jians were sent pinwheeling into a wall with a spray of sparks, glancing off the priest's Black keys-
-and with a powerful push of his legs honed by years of his own interpretation of the Bajiquan martial art Kirei closed the distance, bypassing the defenses of his pupil's sword field and landing a lethal, straight punch to Shirou's heart-
-that only knocked back the young man two meters at best, dust and air flowing past the two at their rapid passage as Kirei didn't hesitate to resume the assault, knowing precisely what had occurred.
Much like how he himself had take Bajiquan in a dangerous and self-destructive route, so too had Shirou with Reinforcement magecraft. A blow that pulverized his father's heart and sent him crashing into a wall a considerable distance away would likely only cause heavy bruising, perhaps a cracked bone if he was lucky.
Then they leapt at each other and Kirei had precious little time to think. Fists, feet and steel danced around him as every iota of experience he had accumulated over his years as an Executor of the Church kept him alive...and eventually began pushing his pupil back.
It was Shirou's turn to frown slightly, even as his teacher barely managed to sidestep a kick that pulverized a twenty-five centimeter support timber into splinters.
From a purely technical standpoint he was Kirei's superior by far. Younger, more physically fit, faster and had the advantage of superior Magecraft and Reinforcement abilities that nullified one of his teacher's strongest abilities, his close-range lethality.
Yet he was still losing, Kirei flowing around two manifested swords, Black keys bashing aside his instinctive block with another pair of swords and opening up slight wounds on his shoulders with liquid precision. Nothing serious or even limiting but still a dangerous indication of his position.
...Experience.
Shirou had always known that, despite his great power and ability if he had come up against either his father or teacher during their primes...he would have lost, most likely cleanly. They were men that had spent most of their lives constantly fighting, traveling from one battlefield to the next, mastering and perfecting their craft through crucibles of real combat.
Certainly, he killed before. Both fellow man and monster, doing the occasional work for his Yakuza neighbors and accompanying Kirei on the random Apostle hunt. But those did not a master make and that was showing now, as Kirei was well on his way to dismantling his limbs one by one until he could land a clean killing blow.
…
Shirou smiled, knowing his teacher's experience was what was going to kill him.
Allowing the priest to land a powerful strike to his left arm that bruised muscle and cracked bone even through Reinforcement Shirou responded in kind, landing a kick to the man's gut that forced them back, buying him perhaps a second and no more.
One second was all he needed.
"Time Alter: One and a Half Accel."
Working arm accelerated at unnatural speeds and reached behind his back, fingers lightly clasping polished wood as yet another weapon was aimed and readied, Kirei's eyes widening in recognition as Shirou's grin became a visible thing.
Not only had he mastered his father's magecraft to the point where he could utilize it at a level where even his Avalon-less body was able to hold up against the strain, he'd also appropriated the Magus Killer's Thompson Contender, the gun that had earned him his moniker.
…
But it was no longer the gun of his father, a mystic code that allowed him to kill his targets by using their own strengths against them.
Now?
Now it was just another tool for Emiya Shirou to make use of a means of enacting and fulfilling his life's purpose. So what if it was a gun and anathema to his existence as a Sword? Before he was a Sword he was a tool, and a tool was a means of making a difficult task convenient.
His task was that of removing any and all threats to Illya and guns were just one of the many tools that made that goal more convenient.
Thus, he would use them.
Kirei's arm flashed red, the Command Seals he'd held as reserves and as potential rewards for Masters during the war channeling mana into the Black Keys, engorging and empowering them so as to properly nullify Kiritsugu's Origin Rounds, just as he'd done during the last war.
Shirou aimed, fired, felt the solid kick of the weapon travel up his reinforced arm, felt the percussive blast jolt his body as blisteringly fast metal impacted on the priest's shield-
-and a fair portion of the Church, alongside the top half of Kirei Kotomine's body, was destroyed in a scream of steel.
Sparks illuminated the church as metal grated on metal, wood and stone was blasted aside as swords punched aside impeding material without pause, pews were cut into unrecognizable shapes as sharp edges jutted outwards and when all was said and done a dome of swords almost six meters long, facing outwards from where the round had hit, occupied what had once been open air and support structures.
As well as Human flesh.
With little fanfare the mass of steel and keen edges vanished into motes of blue light, dismissed by their creator and revealing roughly half of a Human being, still wearing the vestments of a priest.
The dull thud as knees gave out, followed by a wet splat as viscera emptied out of the ragged wound was all that marked the passing of Kirei Kotomine.
Shirou didn't bother wasting time, manifesting a simple mystic code that created fire when activated, burning the corpse and leftover Command Seals before reloading his weapon with a practiced gesture.
His teacher had made one, critical error in the heat of the moment that cost him their battle...but Shirou had been counting on it. Kirei had known from past experience and conversation with his father what an Origin Round could do, had been told of their effects during the rare moments they had talked about missions they had been on in the past during breaks in his training.
He had recognized the threat, responded in kind...and forgotten that Shirou was not his father.
While Kiritsugu's bullets had applied the concept of 'Severing and Binding' to a target, irreversibly tearing apart their body as the effects travelled along mana pathways...Shirou's was far simpler and more direct in application.
He was a sword, thus his custom rounds did just that when they interacted with an opponent's mana...they created swords. Incarnation Rounds.
And Kirei's overcharged Black Keys had provided quite the catalyst, fueling the growth of blades that had torn him to shreds.
Job completed Shirou made to walk out of the church-
-and halted as the sounds of a slow, sardonic clap reached his ears.
"An impressive showing, young man!"
From the gantry overhead, sitting regally and sporting an expression of a mad king pleased by his subordinates killing for his favor was none other than Gilgamesh himself.
Shirou simply bowed his head a fraction, replying, "King of Heroes. I was under the impression you were elsewhere this night."
"My curiosity got the better of me, I admit this. As much of a bore he became over the years Kotomine was once a fascinating individual, one who knew his position relative to mine and paid respects to his king. It was merely courtesy that dictated I be present for his possible last minutes of life."
A smirk twisted the man's lips as he stared at Kirei's ashen remains, abruptly laughing for a reason Shirou was unable to determine.
"How fitting! That the student who murdered his teacher is brought low by his own pupil, a continuation of fated murder that he began ten years ago...the middle acts left much to be desired, but your finale was acceptably entertaining, Kirei."
Raising an imaginary glass high the King of Uruk merrily chuckled.
"Do I have your permission to leave, King of Heroes? Sensei said that you agreed to play no part in this, does that hold true?"
Affixing the young man with a playful smile Gilgamesh archly asked, "Oh? So eager to be rid of my presence? Should one not be grateful to reside within the presence of the King?"
Shirou didn't miss a beat, responding, "My sister awaits me outside. And I am unable to defeat you as I am now, so there is nothing for me to gain by remaining here."
A snort left the Servant's nose, tone dry as he mused, "Were you anything but a machine playing at being Human I would take offense at your words...very well, I shall allow your departure. Out of both respect for Kirei's last wishes and your own correct conclusion regarding your chances of survival."
Shirou simply nodded, departing with, "Until then, King of Heroes."
"Indeed, until then...I desire to reclaim the artifact residing within that doll of yours, young man. Hone your talent, if you wish to save her so. For the King desires the return of what is rightfully his."
"Honestly, who does Onii-chan think he is?!"
Berserker made no reply as Illya ranted to what most would think was thin air.
"Stupid, stupid Onii-chan! Just because he's an Incarnation he thinks he can do all these things on his own...I wanted to see that priest die, dammit! He killed Mama, hurt Papa and probably hurt Onii-chan a lot!"
Berserker remained silent.
"Why did they even have to fight like that anyway?! It's probably a boy thing, isn't it? Stupid, stupid boys!"
Berserker-wisely-remained silent, the limited intelligence Herakles currently possessed recognizing the signs of a rant and instructing him to let the storm pass by.
"...Onii-chan better be alright, if he dies...what do I do then, Berserker? I mean, yes, Onii-chan is probably stupidly powerful but I could have just used you and turned that twisted man into red soup! So what if that means breaking the rules, who cares?! You'd protect me!"
Illya seemed to have finally reached the end of her tirade, tiredly collapsing onto a bench with a heavy sigh, aimlessly kicking her feet.
"...I hate this, Berserker. Why is family so difficult? One minute having Onii-chan is the best thing ever, then I learn something about him and his past and I get sad for some reason, then he gives me a headache when he reveals something crazy or bizarre about himself...and don't even get me started on practically every other little thing that I've had to deal with over the course of less than one day! All the blushing, all the crying, all the smiles...I never had to deal with any of that at the Einzbern castle, at least then things were simple."
Placing her elbows on her knees and resting her head atop her palms the Homunculus sighed once more.
"...I wish I could hurry up and move into one of those bodies. Maybe this would be easier if I was taller."
She sensed what might have been laughter from Berserker and sent a nasty glare in the direction of where he was residing in spirit form, about to chew the Servant out-
"Sorry, Illya. Did I make you wait?"
-and was left wholly unprepared for the rush of heat that flooded her body as her step-sibling's voice reached her ears.
"Onii-chan~!"
Not even pausing to think about what she was doing Illya had jumped over the bench, wrapping her arms around Shirou's waist with all her strength, giant grin splitting her lips as she looked up with a radiant expression, Shirou's usually apathetic expression left blinking in surprise at the enthusiastic greeting.
...And then Illya remembered that she was actually still rather upset.
Crimson eyes narrowed and lips thinned.
"Onii-chan, you're back."
Recognizing the sudden shift for what it was Shirou immediately clamped down on his sudden and unexpected surge of emotion.
"I am. He's dead."
The two stared into the other's eyes, neither breaking from their impromptu and unintentional contest of wills-
-and Illya parted from him with a huff, remarking, "Well that's good, Onii-chan. Come on, let's go. We have a war to win."
The tiny Homunculus stalked off with her arms crossed and head upturned, Shirou blinking at the sudden shift in attitude.
His eyes naturally gravitated where he could tell his sister's Servant was standing nearby.
"Was it something I said?"
He didn't need to see the Servant to know it nodded in confirmation.
Sighing quietly he carried on after his savior, matching her pace-
"Onii-chan, are you injured?"
He glanced down, belatedly remembering that his arm and chest were still heavily bruised, potentially sporting fractures along the bone and was sore all over from the use of Time Alter. He'd become so used to ignoring pain that he'd honestly forgotten, since they didn't inhibit his movement and weren't life-threatening.
"A little. I wouldn't worry, I heal fast-"
He quickly stopped talking as Illya shot him a venomous glare.
"No. Once we're back home I'll fix you up and you're going to enjoy it, is that clear, Shirou-kun?"
He wisely stopped talking, even limited social interaction and knowledge cluing him in that it was better to just shut up and nod.
"...Home, huh?"
Vehemence disappeared like a morning fog, the albino twiddling her fingers and averting her gaze.
"...Yeah. Home."
Shirou worked the word around his mouth...and decided he liked hearing his sister say those words.
"Alright. Let's go home, Illya."
