He'd thought that he'd already put it all away behind him, that by somehow transitioning into another world that the same powers that once bound him would no longer be able to restrain him.
In some ways he was correct, but in others, he was wrong.
The bodies sprawled unconscious and barely alive around him were the most damning points of evidence. They hadn't fallen unconscious through natural means, but because portions of their life force were forcibly extracted in the form of magical power.
It was a means that was not unfamiliar to Archer because he'd once seen it before, which was why it wasn't good for Mirajane and the others to stay around. They simply weren't at the necessary required level.
Right now, he could feel it.
The disturbance of mana present in the air akin to fluctuation in magical power.
Something was near, and it would not be too far.
Avoiding the questioning expression on Mirajane's face, Archer shifted his attention to the bushes behind him and called out sternly. "Show yourselves, this is no time to hide anymore."
Mirajane rose a brow at his sudden call, but her expression twisted into one of outrage when Erza and Jellal walked out of their hiding places awkwardly.
"Y-You!" Mirajane glared, feeling exceedingly frustrated that she hadn't even noticed that she was being followed. It affected her even more because she wanted to prove her own capabilities to her elder brother so that he'd be more willing to take her out with him on more missions.
Now that Mirajane was aware that not only had she been oblivious to Erza and Jellal's pursuit, but Archer had already noticed long ago, she felt inwardly stifled at her inadequacy. "It's your fault," she couldn't help but mutter lowly while biting down on her lips.
If Erza and Jellal hadn't come, then her lack of awareness to her surroundings wouldn't have been exposed as an excuse that Archer could use to get her to stay home. Already she could picture Archer reprimanding her, and it was because of this image that she remained docile and didn't dare flare up at Erza and Jellal while Archer was watching.
Still, why wasn't Archer reprimanding her yet?
Gradually she glanced up at her elder brother only to see him in a state that was far more serious than anything she had seen before. In fact, it reminded her of how her father used to look when he went out for a difficult hunt.
Archer's brows were creased, and there was a scowl on his face that did not fade, but instead grew more pronounced by the second almost as if he was muttering to himself.
It made her uneasy.
This was supposed to be low-level mission. Why did it seem as if it was far more just that?
"B-Big bro?" Mirajane called out to Archer unsurely.
Archer didn't answer. It was like he couldn't even hear Mirajane calling out to him. He was tense, the way his hands were balled into fists causing Mirajane to flinch when she heard his knuckles crack from how hard he was clenching them.
Neither Erza nor Jellal spoke as they too could sense like Mirajane that something wasn't quite right. Still, this didn't stop Mirajane from glowering at them like everything that was happening with her Elder Brother was their fault.
Erza crossed her arms and hmphed back, annoyed.
Jellal silently mediated between the two by raising his hands up in a placating gesture, but it was doing little good.
In the end, the concern Mirajane had for Archer prompted her to temporarily ignore Erza in favour of looking at Archer instead.
By now, Archer seemed to have had composed himself in the seconds that had gone by. In a single action, he moved towards Mirajane and lowered himself until they were eye-level. "Mirajane, promise me that you'll listen to me."
His voice and tone sounded so distant that it caught Mirajane off guard.
"Ugh, whut?" She blinked her eyes wide.
Archer pressed on regardless, putting his hands on her shoudlers. "Promise me."
Sensing how serious Archer was being, Mirajane pursed her lips, and slowly nodded.
Archer didn't waste a single second. From his back, he shifted his hand and pulled out a sack filled with several thousand jewels. It was the Strauss Family's entire life's savings fashioned in the form of bottomless magical pouch. It also had all the money that he'd earned since the time in the village. In the worst-case scenario, it would be enough to last a year or two of comfortable living.
It was a precaution.
Seeing him give the pouch of jewels to her, Mirajane's eyes bugged out in disbelief. She'd seen her father give Archer a similar pouch right before he'd left on his final hunt and never came back due to suffering a mortal wound.
With the pouch offered in front of her, her hands refused to move and take it.
To her, that bag was as good as cursed.
"W-Why are you giving this to me?" She stuttered, taking several steps back. "I-I don't need it. Papa gave that to you as the eldest to take care of the family. I-I'm not the eldest, y-you keep it!" Her tone seemed frantic. Even Erza who didn't have a particularly good impression of Mirajane loosened her expression.
Archer didn't want to force the bag on Mirajane, but he had to think about Lisanna and Elfman as well.
He steeled his resolve.
He was bigger and taller than Mirajane in the first place. All the effort it took him to get the pouch into Mirajane's hands was to extend his arms outwards and secure her in place. She tried struggling, but unless she activated her magic on him, she would not be able to reverse the situation.
In the end, the pouch still ended up in her hands.
Mirajane looked as if she wanted to throw it away, so Archer gave her a single stern glare. "If I don't come back, make sure you use that money for yourself, Elfman, and Lisanna."
"No!" Mirajane yelled. "What do you mean if you don't come back! I'm not going anywhere without you coming first!"
Archer shook his head. There wasn't much time to begin with. If he'd noticed its presence, then surely it would have had noticed his as well.
His expression softened, and he placed a hand on Mirajane's head, gently tussling her hair. "Listen to me alright? When have I ever lied to you? I'll do my best to come back, so it's not like this is going to be the end."
"But, but-"
"Go, it's not safe here." Archer said this to everyone present, urging Erza and Jellal to take Mirajane away.
She didn't want to listen, but Archer was adamant in such a way that he'd never been before. No amount of protesting would change his mind, and there was nothing Mirajane could do about it.
Her limbs grew limp, her head lowering to stare at the ground.
Erza and Jellal had no trouble escorting her away, but even they continued to stare at Archer in uncertainty. "W-We can help?" Jellal voiced the question out.
Both Erza and Mirajane turned to stare at Archer hopefully, but before the three even realized it, Archer was already gone.
Jellal shook his head.
He could see that if he did not say anything at this moment, then both Erza and Mirajane were likely to stay and look for Archer. Jellal knew better. He could tell how serious of an individual Archer was, and if he was warning them to go away, then it could only mean that staying would only trouble Archer further.
"Let's go," he said reluctantly, snapping both Erza and Mirajane out of their thoughts.
"NOOO!" Mirajane broke of the hand holding onto her. "I'm staying to help him!"
Jellal closed his eyes tightly. The fact that Mirajane had been so easily able to get out of Erza's grip could only mean that the two girls were of the same opinion.
Jellal had to use logic because he could understand what Archer was probably thinking. He opened his eyes and focused on Mirajane. "What if by staying here, you endanger your older brother's life instead? He would not have told us to leave if he hadn't felt that it was necessary. Isn't that the kind of person your brother is?"
The question caused Mirajane to flinch. Archer was definitely more inclined towards a practical aspect. He did not make decisions lightly, and that was why Jellal's words hit her so deeply.
She visibly deflated, and before Erza could put a word in, Jellal shook his head. Unlike Erza, he truly felt that Archer wasn't exactly the Shirou he knew from the Tower. At least in some aspects.
He hesitated, but in the end, he managed to get both Erza and Mirajane to leave.
None spoke on the journey back.
The pouch in Mirajane's hands felt far heavier than it actually was.
She glared at it in her unease all the way back to town.
Leaving them behind without another word was probably his best decision given the situation at hand. Knowing Mirajane, she would have fought his decision tooth and nail if he'd allowed her the time. As such, he simply didn't give her that time. Besides, he'd shared a silent stare with Jellal to convey his intentions, and Jellal's character seemed trustworthy enough to leave his sister too.
In which case, it was time to get to the matter at hand.
He moved stealthily across the hollow tone. Most of the inhabitants were either dead or close to it in a state on unconsciousness.
They could still be saved given enough time, but he didn't choose to do so.
In saving them now, he may allow the assailant to get away, leading to further loss of life in the future.
It was simply a choice to save more or less, and he'd already made his decision despite how uncomfortable he felt inside. The feeling would more or less dull with time anyway as his cynicism at his own justice became more pronounced.
In the end, there was no such option as being able to save everyone.
He knew that only one person currently in Fiore may adamantly disagree with him, but to each their own. He'd meet the fool sooner or later anyway, and by then he would have long since come to a decision on what to do.
He moved briskly, passing by the streets and empty marketplace of the town until he reached a junction between a dark forest and the town walls.
His target stood there, seemingly waiting for him.
It was a shadowed figure, a phantom neither distinct, nor with a true name. A being that simply needed more energy in order to exist.
"Why are you here?" He wasn't so much asking the figure a question, as much as he was simply asking himself.
The shadow could not speak back even if it wanted to. It seemed to be sneering at him though, as if he had asked a redundant question.
He didn't particularly mind it, but when he sensed the energy the shadow was outputting, he gradually became solemn.
Was this a shadow a by-product of his own arrival into the new world?
Even till now, Archer could hardly understand the circumstances of his arrival and the power behind it.
The biggest question was simple. How had he escaped from Alaya's contract?
The answer to the question still eluded him, but today he had found some sort of clue.
He was a Servant that had manifested in the form of the eldest son of the Strauss family that was somehow no longer connected to Alaya as a Counter Guardian.
The shadow was a phantom taking form. All it had were its base instincts to maintain its existence.
In the Holy Grail War at Fuyuki, Servants had the ability to feed off of the life energy of humans to use as their own. This was clearly what had happened to the residents of the town, but in terms of sustenance, consuming a Servant was far better.
Just seven Servants alone were enough to power the Holy Grail, which reflected the magical energy each Servant contained as spiritual vessels.
Archer was no longer in a Servant form, but at his core, he was still the same.
This was why he was a prime target in the shadow's eyes.
There was no longer any time to think. He'd consider everything later.
The enemy was hostile and would attack at any moment.
He raised his hands and Traced out Kanshou and Bakuya, setting himself up into an open stance.
The air grew still.
The shadow was a type of phantom that wasn't quite a Servant, but not a simple ghost either. It had the ability to subdue a standard human with ease, and perhaps even lower tier mages, but Archer wasn't anywhere near ordinary.
His breathing evened out, his gaze level.
Mind's Eye.
He could see it. Everything that the Shadow might do through the logic of battle. It didn't matter how small a chance he had in striking at an opening or a flaw; so long as the chance existed, the possibility remained.
Against a simple Shadow, he didn't need to put much effort or overthink the situation. Shadows did not rely on any techniques unlike other Servants. The only problem was that they still posed a danger that Mirajane and the others would not have had been able to cope against given their experience and age.
He would not simply risk their lives should the shadow choose to prioritize them due to their latent magical energy.
The shadow attacked with surprising agility.
It weaved in and out of the surrounding area and scrutinized him for any openings to exploit. Whoever the shadow was, he or she must have had been a well practiced or learned individual.
Unfortunately, the shadow was dealing with Archer.
In terms of openings, he had plenty, but only the ones he purposely left exposed.
Seemingly thinking that he was an easy target, the shadow lunged forward, a dagger appearing in its hands.
Kanshou and Bakuya moved to intercept in an instant, having moved even faster than the dagger which was deftly deflected.
The shadow's eyes widened, but Archer had already retaliated.
Having used Kanshou to deflect the dagger, Bakuya slashed down over the shadow's back, eliciting a loud hiss.
He cut through flesh and bone, exposing the sinew of the shadow's shoulder-blade.
The shadow retreated; its vigilance increased even as it drew upon its magical power to heal its wounds. Its skin stitched together like lines of yarn, the flesh made new, but at a cost. From the energy it had pilfered from the townsfolk, a tenth was entirely used up.
The shadow simply couldn't understand what was happening. The opponent before it was full of fatal openings and yet they more akin to death traps if anything.
Weariness began to seep into the shadow's mind but it knew that Archer would pursue it relentlessly if it tried to escape.
It had to kill or subdue, but it had become hesitant. If it sustained just a few more injuries like the one from before, then it was as good as dead.
The openings that Archer displayed were intentional.
Archer's fighting style was developed in a time when others of superior skill to him had once sought to kill him. He could not effectively rely on his own proficiencies so he made due with the only option left available to him.
To give an opening.
Once he knew where the enemy would strike, it was child's play to move ahead of the enemy to block. It was suicidal technique that he only used when dealing with others who had a higher weapon proficiency then him.
The shadow was no exception. Although relying on instinct, it's innate skills were the real deal.
It was a dance of life and death.
If Archer failed to defend, he would suffer a mortal wound, but if he did, then he'd catch the enemy off guard for his counter.
The shadow attacked again and again.
Archer parried then countered in a flurry of steel.
Sparks arced into the air, glowing with a dull orange as the tips of Kanshou and Bakuya grated against the shadow's daggers.
Putting strength into his arms, Archer shoved forward and forced the shadow to retreat when he launched out with a reinforced kick. The two stared each other down in silence.
Blood seeped down from a cut just above Archer's eye, and his arms were coated with small lacerations. However, the shadow was in an even worse state. He'd managed to inflict grievous injuries on the shadow another six times including his last counter.
The shadow was forced to heal each time, and by now, it was running low on magical energy.
In much the same way as a Servant outside of the Archer Class could not go without magical energy for long, the shadow's situation was nearing critical.
It had no choice but to resort to its strongest trump card.
The shadow suddenly stilled, the air growing frigid with tension.
Archer could feel the change. His magical energy thrummed inside of him like a roaring flame.
Shadows didn't have access to anything as powerful as a Noble Phantasm, but they had the ability to erupt with sudden bursts of magical power induced attacks that could be fatal.
He had to be ready.
He was once known as the Nameless Hero of Wrought Iron.
He'd seen both the best, and the worst of the world.
A man whose hands had never held anything.
What he got in return, was combat ability and experience that put him neck to neck with even the best of heroes.
He'd fought against Hercules of the Twelve Labours of Greece.
He'd fought against Ireland's Child of Light, Cu Chulainn.
He'd even once gone as far as to face himself.
His experience was not lacking in the slightest, and he would not waste the accumulation of a lonely life's work by belittling an adversary.
"I am, the bone of my sword." Pale interface patterns travelled down his arms and into his sword, breaking them, and shifting them into wings of black and white. A representation of they whose hands could no longer hold the Heavens.
The Three Cranes of an upper realm.
Sometimes the best form of defence was not a passive stance, but an active one.
He could not predict the burst power of his opponent, but he knew the strength of his own.
Moreover, he did not say it, but he was aware of the unconscious people in the town behind him as well. Hero or not, he would not allow an attack to be launched in their direction.
The Crane Wings.
He'd use that attack once more, giving no room for the shadow to retaliate.
He leapt forward, his feet digging into the ground and leaving craters.
The shadow was caught off guard, staring blankly as another three pairs of Kanshou and Bakuya manifested swirling through the air.
Wings that could not reach the imperial palace soared towards the heavens.
A representation of the tale of an unfortunate blacksmith and a devoted wife.
The copies of Kanshou and Bakuya approached the shadow in all directions, closing off all paths of escape.
It didn't matter what the shadow tried to do anymore. It was trapped, its only method of escape, to defeat the Noble Phantasm before it.
It erupted with its remaining magical power, but by then, Archer was already out in front.
The pair of Kanshou and Bakuya in his hands shattered and elongated into feather-like wings.
"Triple-linked Crane Wings."
It was akin to the dancing of sharp feathers floating along with the flow of the wind.
Forward.
Back.
Left.
Right.
The shadow was struck squarely, the edge of the swords in Archer's hands shattering upon the attack's completion.
The shadow had lost its left arm, and a large cut ran directly over its chest. It was wobbling on its feet; its final burst of magical power having been able to ward off some of the damage but leaving it defenceless as a result.
Archer moved to strike and deliver the final blow, but he simply didn't have to.
With the energy that the shadow had siphoned from the town populace depleted, Archer watched on in silence as the world itself seem to expel the shadow out of existence.
It was true that the laws that governed magic in Fiore were different from the ones of his original world. That being the case, a conflicting force between the two must have had existed. It was like an incompatibility where one side resisted the other. In his case, he had not felt any abnormalities in his state of self due to his possession of a body local to the world.
This was not the case for the shadow. Without any magical power left, it soon unwillingly dissipated into mots of fading black light.
This shadow may not be the first, and the fact that it manifested so close to his surroundings meant that Archer's existence may be a direct cause to their appearance. He had felt it during battle, something in his Spirit Origin reacting with an external presence.
Perhaps it was this external presence that was punching a hole between the two worlds such that incomplete phantoms could materialize?
The theory needed further investigation, and he would not kill himself based on an assumption. Moreover, he was the same as the phantom in some ways.
His presence in the new world wasn't natural. Much like how the shadow before him should not have had existed. The world itself may act to repel him despite the body he was born into.
Unlike Shirou Emiya who Archer was certain was still roaming around the world saving others, Archer had been a legitimate Heroic Spirit before he had arrived in Fiore. Their starting constitutions were different on a fundamental basis. One was human while the other was a spirit.
Shirou Emiya did not have a Spirit Origin like Archer did, meaning that Shirou did not have a direct effect on the magical laws around him just by existing.
The same could not be said for him though.
In the end, how long did he actually have?
Days? Months? Years?
If he was correct in his assumptions, then his turn would come eventually.
He stared blankly at the fading mots of black light before sighing.
There was nothing that he was willing to do based on speculation alone. Still, if he really was the cause of shadowed phantoms manifesting into Fiore, then perhaps it was safest to stay away from others and deal with them himself. He didn't want Mirajane and his younger siblings to get hurt because of him.
At the same time though, he couldn't just leave them due to their financial situation.
Maybe it wasn't him who was materializing the shadows but something else? He tried to be hopeful, but his inner pessimism warned him to remain cautious.
He would need to investigate further, but regardless, he needed to find a way to solve the problem first.
For now, without any hard evidence, it was time to go back home.
Mirajane was probably beginning to worry, and he still had to formulate a report on how he was going to explain the situation.
Taking one last look at the town before him, he left after transferring small portions of his magical power into the unconscious residence, giving them a chance at life.
If another shadow did come because of him, then he would be the one to deal with it.
Archer heard the sound of crying even before he was ten feet away from the door of the house that he was living in with his siblings. It was located near Fairy Tail in a peaceful part of town that Lisanna had first taken a liking too due to the view of the ocean.
Four days had passed since he'd taken the mission to investigate the abnormalities happening in a remote village, and he was supposed to have returned two days earlier. Unfortunately, he had been delayed due to undergoing his own investigation of what was occurring. Moreover, he didn't want to go back covered in his own blood. Mirajane would probably pale and blame herself for leaving him alone, while Lisanna and Elfman may get traumatized.
He had spent several hours cleaning himself up as a result.
It was night by the time that he'd actually returned and the eerie quiet of the evening made it so that the noise filtering into his ears was even more distinct. His hand was paused near the handle of the door.
From the pitch and tone, the one crying the loudest was obviously Lisanna, and Mirajane wasn't helping much at all.
"Stop already, I-I told you that he's coming back so don't act as if he won't!" Mirajane was anxious. "E-Elfman help me convince her. E-Elfman why aren't you saying anything?"
He could hear scuffling noises inside the house, and he didn't want to think about what was actually happening inside.
What had Mirajane said to Elfman and Lisanna that caused them to be so distraught? Couldn't she have had just lied and said that he was going to take a little bit longer on the mission rather than worry her younger siblings?
He contemplated over the question, but in truth, Mirajane had tried to do it that way. Unfortunately, as siblings who had lived close to each other for years, no matter how hard Mirajane tried to hide her anxiety, both Elfman and Lisanna detected it. It was only made worse when Mirajane came home alone and insisted that Archer was only out somewhere.
Evidently, Archer had done too much of a good job in watching out for his younger siblings as neither Elfman or Lisanna believed Mirajane's words. The elder brother that they knew who would rather spend on them rather than himself would never lightly indulge in activities lightly. More so when the Strauss family was relying on the money from the guild missions to make a living.
It wasn't something that Archer would do.
Finally, caving under the pressure of her two younger siblings, Mirajane had let slip what happened, leading to the current situation. It was only made worse when Archer didn't return back in time.
Mirajane as the eldest daughter present was trying to keep everything in order when she herself was far from okay with the situation.
Bags had formed under her eyes, and she developed a small habit of biting her nail which she had once believed that she had gotten rid of. It resurfaced in her nervousness.
"S-Stop crying. He's going to come back alright!" Mirajane continued to speak from behind the door. She didn't sound very confident. Lisanna was far from reassured and there was simply no helping it.
Having heard enough, he unlocked the knob of the door, and twisted the handle.
The noise ushered Mirajane, Lisanna, and Elfman into silence.
By the time he fully opened the door, he found all three of them peaking their heads around the corner of the den before Lisanna rushed forward to hug his leg.
She wouldn't let go, burying her face against his shin.
Elfman tried to hold himself back, but in the end, he caved, walked forward and scratched at the back of his head.
Archer didn't let him hesitate any longer and just pulled him in for a hug. All that was left was Mirajane who was staring at the scene blankly as if saying she 'didn't do hugs.' However, her expression and movements were giving herself away.
"C'mere," he beckoned. She had probably been the one holding herself back the most in the past couple of days. Rather than Lisanna, she was the one most wanting to throw herself at him in relief if not for her pride and self image.
By the time she got close enough for him to reach her, he pulled her in and held each of his siblings in his arms. "I'm back," he whispered softly.
It didn't matter what his purpose was in this new world or if his presence would actually mean anything in the long run due to the recent issues that had turned up.
In the end, he was a broken man, and he could admit that point without any difficulties. He'd seen too many things in life. Too many atrocities and hypocrisies to count that skewed his past views of the world and yet still his original goal lingered in his mind like a cancer.
It wasn't wrong to save everyone.
Just the thought of that fool made him remember his original self.
But if it meant that he could help his family and everyone else, then perhaps just this once, the fool's mentality wasn't so bad.
The tension gradually eased off of him.
Mirajane pressed her head into the crook of his shoulder, Lisanna clung onto his leg, while Elfman held him around the arm.
Memories soon flashed across his mind like a roll of hazy film.
The faces of the people that had abandoned him one by one.
They who called him foolish, or could no longer support him in his crazy endeavors to save all.
He could recall them vividly as the man who had endured a life of neither victory nor defeat. Unknown to loss or gain.
That was his life as a Nameless Hero.
Caught in his sibling's arms, it reminded him that for once in his life of battle and solitude, there were precious people he had to protect once again.
He was no longer walking his road alone.
It's been a while since I've updated this story and for a moment I was a bit lost with what my younger self was trying to do, but in the end, I ended up remembering and the chapter sort of just wrote itself towards the goal I have for A Tale of Two's ending.
Thanks for Reading!
P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious