Chapter 143

It took some time for them to make something serviceable as a meal after Caster realized there were several other places she neglected while her head was in the clouds, with a sizable cloud of smoke wafting up to the roof from a wok that she managed to quickly clear with a wave of her hand. Shirou managed to salvage something from the mess and turn it into something edible, grabbing some extra ingredients from the fridge and making do to create some new dishes as replacements too. It took longer than expected, with Caster listening to Shirou as he instructed her on what to do and provided quick demonstrations on what to do with the ingredients she was unfamiliar with.

With Caster doing her best and utilizing her Servant powers to prep the ingredients as fast as possible, and Shirou's skill and experience, they managed to squeeze out a meal that he could at the very least, not be ashamed of.

Meanwhile, Saber and Kuzuki, having nothing for them to do, with cooking completely out of their area of expertise, rested by themselves after the battle, leaving the meal up to the other two.

Kuzuki walked back to his own room after checking that the monks were in doing their meditation in the hall, making sure to close the door quietly so as not to disturb them, then told Caster to let the duo at the bottom of the stairs know that they could come up.

While Caster went to the kitchen to prepare, he was in his room sitting, staring at the wall.

Well not exactly. In his head, he replayed what he had experienced earlier that day.

It was a peculiar feeling to be unable to do anything at all. Since he was young, he was trained to be a perfect assassin, a tool that would kill his target and then disappear. For this to work, he needed to acquire many skills and train his ability from the ground up until he surpassed other human beings, a living weapon designed to strike one fatal blow that wouldn't miss or err.

Of course, this meant that he was generally superior to most people around him, at least physically, and he was able to function as a teacher most of the time well, with the teaching ability he cultivated, born from the ability to adapt and blend into his surroundings. Rarely did he ever feel that there was something he couldn't do, that he was powerless. That wasn't to say that never happened, as there had been some unfortunate incidents involving his students before, complicated family circumstances, criminal affairs, substance abuse and other things that were out of his control, things he couldn't simply fix just by saying a few words.

Today, he was once more reminded that there were some things he couldn't do as well, that he had to leave to others, but in his heart, something didn't feel right about that. He was surprised at that as well, that he was feeling something he disliked. His life was mostly a monotone, and he was fine with that. Feeling something like this, was surprising, to say the least.

He knew that he couldn't face Berserker head to head and win, since last time he faced her on the steps of this very temple, he had straight up lost. He had managed to hold his ground for a time, but it didn't take long for Berserker to take him out, depriving him of an arm in the process. His hand drifted over to where the skin was smooth and unblemished, which just days before had been empty air.

If his student hadn't turned out to be carrying some sort of mystical artifact that could apparently heal all wounds except for those of instant fatality, he would still be short one arm.

When he had mentally asked Caster to further reinforce him to fight Berserker earlier, she had refused, and instead went out herself to fight against the Servant.

It wasn't hard to tell why. All he needed to do was look at his arm and remember what happened the last time he fought against Berserker.

And to be honest, it wasn't like Caster couldn't handle herself. While the general impression of the class and what Caster had told him about mages and the Heroic Spirits supposed to be summoned in the class seemed to be that they were weaker in direct physical combat when compared to the rest, Caster was one of the exceptions to be able to engage in hand-to-hand combat without much problem.

While she hadn't exactly won or even injured Berserker much, she had definitely done a lot better than he had. That was to say, not almost dying and losing a limb in the process as well.

He could pretty much leave the combat to her and direct from behind like a normal Master, and there would be no problem with that. The other Masters were most likely in the same boat as him, and he was only able to fight on the front lines by virtue of Caster's enhancements. Without them, he was the same, maybe even inferior, to the mages and other people that made up the other six Masters. Caster's enhancements also harmed him if he went too far after all, so it wasn't really a reliable source of power for him.

Unfortunately, he couldn't do much either as a backline Master. His support ability was close to zero, as he didn't know any magecraft at all. He couldn't heal, he couldn't distract, he couldn't damage, there was almost nothing he could do to assist in her battles. There was very little he was capable of, and what he could do was within the realm of what any other normal human being could do with enough training and practice, though it could be said he was at the pinnacle of human effort.

But even the pinnacle of human effort wasn't enough to face Servants.

It was ridiculous to think that, and only the exceptions among humanity were able to stand toe to toe against such Spirits and last for more than a minute.

He could be considered extremely lucky, and one of the few who had fought against a Servant and lived to tell the tale, with everything intact even.

Nevertheless, as he opened and closed his fist, he wondered whether there was something more he could do. His strength wasn't much, but surely there was something he could do. It wouldn't do to show his student that he was kind of, no basically useless. At least Shirou could use magecraft, no matter how small his talent was.

Inside the kitchen, Shirou sneezed on the tofu he was cutting, the hard sound of the knife smacking on the board prompting Caster to turn around and stare at him, as if to ask him if he had actually sneezed directly into the food they were about to eat.

Kuzuki stared at the ceiling.

I wonder what Caster would say if she knew I wanted to fight against them.

This time, Caster sneezed into the tofu after walking closer to Shirou to check his temperature. They both stared at the white cubic lumps of soya milk, coming to an unanimous agreement.

"Let's wash it."

The introspective moment lasted for another moment, then he decided that he may as well continue with his usual daily training. There was nothing he could do if he just thought about it after all, and it was best if he could maintain his physical ability so that he could use it whenever the need arose.

Standing up, he spaced his feet apart at the proper distance and loosened his muscles, his hands weaving through the katas he was taught since his youth. As his physical body moved, his mind settled into a state of concentration to maintain all the muscles and move the ones he wanted, while keeping the rest steady. All thoughts were washed away as he immersed himself into the movements, palms bobbing and stretching as if they had minds of their own.

Built up from a solid foundation since youth, trained to be a fatal sword with inhuman methods, his physical body may have been full of muscles, with a sharp mind and instincts, but there was just something he lacked because of his upbringing. Yet, staying with two spirits and his students, participating in this bizarre battle royale, he couldn't help but feel that it felt different than his quiet days of daily life that he had led up until now.