A/N: I know the fact that the fight in the last chapter was forced, and I apologize for that. I wrote that fight as a stepping stone for him to awaken the boosted gear.
-Also, I am adding some twist in this story, so I might break some nasuverse rules or two, but who cares about those limitations? I mean fanfiction exists so fans can fantasize about things that are impossible to happen in the main timeline.
A/N: Special thanks to Marcas Dammin as he taught me some things that I would otherwise not know originally, and the fact that his lessons helped my story to become better.
Thank you for all the support, I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. If you guys have any suggestions, just PM me, just do not PM new "OC" characters because I have tons of them in my inbox and as you can guess, it is very irritating to have your cell phone blaring all night long, jk.
Here we go:
Chapter 2: Bladed Path of Crimson.
His body was in great pain. He felt as if there were thousands of needles piercing his skin.
Avalon can indeed heal his wounds efficiently, and yet it serves no purpose against the adversary as it cannot recover the reserves he had lost and it does not soothe the pain of the constantly regenerating tissues of the skin.
He has been fighting for what he can assume to be hours on end, with a futile result. The nameless phantasm that he held earlier was scattered in the ground in the form of shards, dried blood scattered through the surfaces of the broken blade.
He grits his teeth in frustration, staring at the creature with eyes filled with anger.
He was in a truly hopeless situation, and yet, he stood up. If he were to be defeated now, the promise that he made to his loved ones and the ones he unknowingly left would not come to fruition.
He stared at the creature as it howled in victory. He then hissed as he clenched his bloodied fists, grinding his teeth as he took a step, then another, then another.
It surprised the creature as it turned its attention towards the form of the brunette dragging his exhausted body towards it. The creature narrowed its crimson-red eyes, cocking back its humongous arms to finish the brunette once it for all, showing its deformed razor-sharp teeth in the form of a sickening smile.
Visualizing the pair of blades he favored to use, Kanshou, and Bakuya, he stared at the creature, the fierceness in his being never faltering.
The nameless phantasm he held earlier took almost all of his remaining reserves, further multiplying the throbbing feeling of the circuits within his body.
This was a sign that his circuits were close to being permanently damaged, and he knew that If it was to be destroyed, there was no way of restoring it…
Therefore, the possibility of him dying against the adversary is higher than it ever was.
Even if he manages to survive, he would live a life full of misery.
He held the salty tears from falling from his eyes as he squared his faltering stance.
This was his last stand.
The creature growled as it clenched its fists and then brought it down to the brunette, who barely evaded the strike intended to take his life away. It took a step as it swung its monstrous arm towards the brunette, who barely docked in time.
He was fortunate as he saw the arm utterly decimate the building to his right.
It brought its arm upwards, bringing it down with bashful force, the resulting shockwave tossing the brunette like a ragdoll, his momentum only halted as he hit a building, falling like a puppet cut from its binding strings.
He coughed up blood as he stood up, the pain of regenerating organs hit him like thunder. He chuckled painfully as he felt more blood flow out from his esophagus.
Its eyes focused on him, the feeling it gave off was certain death.
He smiled painfully, what he assumed to be the last time he would ever do so.
Composing himself, he squared his faulty stance, intending to trace the last pair of blades that he will ever hold in his grasp.
"Trace o-"
[Don't be such a crybaby boy! prove yourself that you're indeed worthy of this body!]
He widened his eyes in shock, distracting himself from tracing away the remaining reserve he has.
"What the?!"
That voice was closely draconian. However, he had no time to think about trivial matters as the arm came like a blurring sledgehammer, a hammer made of flesh aimed to take his life away.
It was simply too quick to be evaded by his exhausted and battered feet. At that very moment, he doubted that Kanshou and Bakuya would be enough to parry this incoming attack. He was not even sure that [Trace Overedge] would suffice against an attack such as that one.
However…
[Boost!]
He widened his eyes as he felt that his strength was multiplied, no, it was not just multiplied, it was multiplied by itself. This granted him, not only a strength boost but the ability to perceive everything faster as well because he was able to evade the incoming attack almost flawlessly. The statistics that he has now, are far above what he had before the exhaustion of his strength, energy, and speed.
Even his reserves, from none, catapulted to the levels that he would never think were possible for him, and as such, it was now possible for him to project the blades he favored the most, as easily as breathing in air. He was amazed yet suspicious, how didn't he find this dormant power earlier? This much power would put some servants to shame, perhaps even impress Archer.
Despite the insecurities he has, he decided to make the most out of it.
"Trace on!"
What he visualized earlier came to fruition as it materialized in his grasp. As he held Kanshou and Bakuya, he was taken aback by the sudden increase in quality as he knew that his mere projections couldn't be at the level of power that the original one had, and yet, here he was, possessing a power that even surpassed the original.
Alongside the pair of blades, however, a gauntlet materialized. Its color is crimson, a green gem adjourning the middle of his fists, as well as at the back. It has sharp claws for fingers, and spikes of gold adorning its entirety.
What surprised him is not the gauntlet itself, but the fact that he could not unravel its structure, it was as if it was a heavenly construct. The only thing that he was able to discern about the gauntlet, is that it was made with the rarest materials and that he was only able to determine it, because of Archer's experience with weapons…Perhaps what surprised him the most is the fact that the object's history is blurry to the point that it was better for him to not know it in the first place…
...
The creature shook in terror as it set its gaze on the gauntlet that materialized in his arm, the ground shook as it took a step backward. And yet, It still swung its left arm with its full power. The ground shook like there was a terrible earthquake, as dust and soot rose from the crater it formed.
The delight it had in its face was morphed into a fearful expression as it saw the sight before it. With one arm, the brunette blocked the fist that was supposed to crush him, with his Kanshou, with no strains of effort visible on his face whatsoever. The creature, no matter how strong, falls short of the strength of a genuine servant.
He furrowed his brows as he waved Kanshou, throwing the arm backward, causing the creature's balance to be disrupted, only for it to balance itself once again. The crimson eyes that once held dominance, were now filled with unadulterated fear, and yet it did not let up, once again cocking back its humongous arm.
He would not allow it to have the chance of attacking him again or even give it a chance of living another day because despite him overpowering this creature this very moment, he knew that ordinary people would stand no chance against this monstrosity if it managed to escape. It would be troublesome for him also, as it could bring in backup the next time.
Fortunately, there would be no such thing as a second time.
A single cutting motion was all it took for the entirety of the arm to fall off its socket, blood spewed at the alley as the brunette brought his arms at his face to avoid being blinded by the freely flowing reservoir of blood. Despite it having lost its arm, it cocked back its fist to deliver another devastating blow.
[Boost!]
With utmost speed and precision, he cleaved the creature that once gave him a run for his life, as easily as cutting butter with a hot knife. Two lumps of flesh impacted the ground with force, dust rising. The brunette dismissed his blades, examining the gauntlet in his arms. He clenched his fists, then spread them, feeling the metallic material that it was made off.
He breathed, then exhaled.
As much as we wanted to find out more about this phenomenon and satisfy his thirst for answers, he had to move quickly because there was a high chance that there would be regular people or people from the supernatural approaching the scene. In a green blur of light, he sped off to his house, blood getting blown off by the wind, leaping on the buildings as fast as he could and as quietly as he could manage.
As he arrived at the Hyoudou residence, he skilfully and quietly unlocked the window that leads to his room, falling face-first into the soft mattress below.
He then stood up, turning his body towards the bed, seeing his now disheveled clothes. Dismissing the body suit that Archer once wore, he was surprised that the gauntlet in his arm dissipated along with the suit, causing the fatigue to come back in full force.
He wore his clothes fast, laying his body down carefully on the mattress, drifting off to sleep, unaware of something waiting for him at the other side.
X-x-X-x-X
The familiar stench of fire entered his nose.
He widened his eyes as they darted around the scene that he was in.
Ravenous fires scorched the ground as far as he could see.
It reminded him of the blazing inferno that gave birth to him and yet, it was fundamentally different, there were no perishing people, no ashes to be blown up by the wind, and there was no circular space ominously emitting the darkest of forces, it was just a field of fire. And yet even with the temperature that the gigantic embers of flames seem to emit, he does not feel any pain, he doesn't feel the searing pain that he experienced that very day.
It was, instead, quite welcoming…
A deep voice rumbled the field of fire, startling the confused brunette.
"Who-" As he turned his attention to the source, his skin paled. A green eye with a slit in the middle was focused on him, it was an eye of curiosity.
[Took you long enough to awaken me, Emiya Shirou, or should I say, Partner!]
It was a dragon of enormous proportions. Rows razor sharp teeth were hidden in a somewhat metallic scale. Ginormous crimson wings, with spikes of red at each end, and crimson razor-sharp claws. Its chiseled body was covered with metallic red scales that seemed to be shining from the radiance of the fire around them.
It was an imposing figure.
He stood frozen still, a familiar feeling of dread overcoming his emotions.
Despite that, he could not help but be curious as well, because the voice he heard earlier came from a mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth, the voice came from the imposing figure in front of him. Could it be that the figure in front of him was the one who gave him that overwhelming power earlier? But, even after coming up with a possible answer to his rather troublesome question, it still confused him to his core.
"Why would the strongest of the phantasmal beings aid a weakling such as myself?" he couldn't help but mutter those words out in front of the being, his tone was of confusion.
From what he knew that dragons were only capable of heinous events and destruction. Their strength was well known, as well as their undying confidence and pride. Then, why would the dragon in front of him stoop so low to help him?
The imposing figure sighed as its body lousily impacted the ground, causing dust and soothe to rise from the surface. Quickly, the brunette brought his hands to his face, preventing the dust from entering his eyes.
[You do not know, partner? I thought that you, a well-experienced hunter would have known of the existence of sacred gears…My rank is quite popular too!] the dragon groveled, bringing its stout arms at his face, imitating a weeping man.
The fear and dread within his being had lessened, as he now saw the carefree attitude of the figure which had only increased his curiosity even more. Despite that fact, he was still cautious.
Admittedly, it was quite hard, because the statement he had heard earlier sounded surreal.
"Sacred gears? What do you mean by that?" the brunette asked.
He had no idea what "sacred gears" are, but there was a stray thought that immediately came to his mind. Throughout the days he had spent in Kuoh, he felt several presences, some were dark as if it was a satanic force, some were concentrated, compacted, and it was as if the aura itself wanted to dominate everything around it. It was likely that those energy signatures belong to supernatural beings, perhaps from the so-called stalkers. "Hm, to think about it, I sensed suspiciously supernatural auras all around me. The creatures that I hunted also emitted tainted auras similar to those, and yet it was vastly different…that's what you call sacred gears?" he asked, his tone defensive, and his body tense.
The figure sighed, exasperated.
[Sacred Gears can only be used by humans and reincarnated devils. Though, it is very likely that some of those devils you deem as a stalker are reincarnated, humans]
"Why would humans-!?" He widened his eyes as he shut his mouth close, remembering that the being in front of him is to not be shouted at.
And yet within his mindscapes, he quietly presumed that humans from this world are tempted by the devils' largely exaggerated promises,
[Truly naive…you spend much of your time hunting those creatures, and you don't even know how the supernatural works…] The tone was of disappointment.
Silence came soon after, gradually relaxing the brunette's stressed body and mind. The figure itself was taking itself to converse with him despite having the power of eliminating without as much of a care, which he knew that the strongest of phantasmal beings is not capable of. He shouldn't have been worth his time, and yet he stooped to the level that he would converse with him without as much of a "higher" being mentality, in fact even scolding him because of his apparent naivety…Even claiming him to be his partner, he knew he wasn't supposed to be worthy of being called as such by the being in front of him.
Could he trust the being in front of him more?
"I admit, I am naive because I barely know anything…I have no resources to make it work…and, the more I researched about those strange energy signatures, it felt as if they were trying to avoid me., therefore making finding answers as impossible as bringing a person back from the dead…"
"There is no point in exposing myself, for there are plenty of powerful individuals in this so-called moonlit world I could not compete with, no matter how much power I have…I simply cannot risk it, because I have already experienced the moonlit world firsthand, thrown into the belly of a beast without so much as consent…" he continued more calmly than before as his mind was cleansed of worries, breaking the silence that ensued.
He had already determined that the being in front of him wished no harm toward him and to the people around them because he saw it in the being's eyes. It held no desire for destruction, yet. This leads him to be more open about his opinions, albeit he needs to show it respectfully, after all, being in front of him, if angered would most certainly wreak havoc.
[Hm…Was it the Holy Grail War? A battle between 7 esteemed mages, with their seven, summoned familiars or "servants" summoned from throughout the history of mankind]
"..."
[Before you, my partner, could ramble anything, just know that now I know everything because your memories are fused with his, ever since overtook my original vessel's soul]
The guilt within his mind resurfaced once again, his body posture noticeably slouched. And yet within that guilt is an undying curiosity; How did that happen?
[And yet despite practically overthrowing his soul, Hyoudou Issei himself is still alive…his soul was just transported into a realm that cannot be reached by regular humans, and yet you possess it within your very being, your so-called reality marble] the figure exclaimed as he stared at the utterly dumbfounded expression on the brunette's face.
"Overtaking his soul seems impossible enough, and that very same soul transported to my inner world, and the fact that his memories stayed with me...it sounds absurdly impossible to occur," he stared at the imposing figure, a serious yet confused expression plastered in his face.
[An old bastard once told me, maybe before I was sealed away, about rituals that brought the dead back to life, or more simply manipulating the soul and transporting it to a vessel. It sounds quite familiar, doesn't it?]
"It does indeed sound familiar, as it is the literal functionality of the heaven's feel ritual…"
[Damn right you are, partner!]
The only name that sparked within his mind is the Wizard Marshall, who was the main cause that the ritual was initiated in the first place. "An old man? Wait, can you please tell me what he looks like" A sudden rush of hope overcame him, balling his fists in anticipation.
Despite having a general grasp of the history of the jeweled sword and its owner, the records of it being used to travel dimensions were blurred out of his conscience, possibly because its sheer numbers would overload his brain. It could be the Wizard Marshall, Zelretch because he could have traveled here in some way or another, or just a regular old man who happened to coincidentally preach a ritual that did not exist here.
[Hm, I remember he was quite tall, had white hair styled, and had red eyes. His hades were quite fancy…The name is Zelretch, I think? I am not sure and I would not rather remember that geezer's name!]
"That is indeed him…" he sighed in relief. That means that the hope of going back to his previous world was not as far-fetched as he thought it was. Then, if it was him, what is his objective in visiting this world or more specifically the figure in front of him?
[But…, I must admit, he was quite strong because he was able to defeat me, a heavenly dragon…] It sounded surreal to his brain, after all defeating the strongest of phantasmal beings is a feat that barely anyone achieved in their lives.
"A heavenly dragon? Just what are you?" he had forgotten to ask the figure again earlier and as such, this is a perfect opportunity to ask once more. Though it was quite laughable, asking the figure in front of him that may very well burn him to nothingness, quite casually.
[I am, Ddraig Y Goch the heavenly dragon of domination! The twin of…Albion, Gwiber, my arch nemesis, and rival]
"Like, in the legends?"
[You're quite versed in history from what I can tell from your memories!…that is impressive since my previous host has no idea who I am in the slightest]
"But to think that he was able to defeat a figure as strong as you…Well, that jeweled sword gathers infinite energy from infinite dimensions, so it's not so far-fetched…"
"I must apologize for what I am about to inquire about you, the heavenly dragon of domination…"
[Hm? It's fine, after all, you are my partner, a worthy wielder of such power!]
"What happened after he defeated you, Welsh Dragon of Domination?"
[Well, you must know the reason why he fought me first, partner]
He hummed as a response though surprised at how the being took it lightly.
[That bastard of a geezer just appeared out of nowhere, interrupting my peaceful slumber. To think that a lowly creature would be that carefree…] the figure's expression went sour.
[We agreed that if he defeats me in a battle, which I thought at that time was impossible, he will continue babbling about the nonsense he preached earlier…and…well, the rest is history]
"I see…so that's who it all went down. Still to think that an old man such as he was able to take down a being like you "
[So, back to the main topic…After the old bastard defeated me] the figure's tone was now deflated.
[He preached to me all sorts of things, all he claimed to be real and will happen in the future, some of those probably happened already as far as I can remember. That includes the ritual similar to what you call heaven's feel, and you know what it does, am I right?!]
He nodded as he stared at the figure with hopeful eyes.
[And a person overtaking my previous wielder's soul…that was strangely you, my partner…]
He widened his eyes, taken aback by the statement. It was outrageous, the brunette was now fuming with frustration, his teeth grit. If the old man already knew that he would be transported here, why didn't he try to help him go back to his world?
At that very moment, he realized how much of a bastard the Wizard Marshall is.
[…And proclaiming that that person is the only one who can stop the threat looming over our heads, something like that]
[Of course, it piqued my interest, but when I tried to confront the bastard more about it, he dismissed my notion, disappearing the night afterward…He was even more of a bastard than Albion was!]
"What was his purpose?" he hissed, frustrated.
[I don't know, partner, he never said as much of a reason!]
"That old man…is really mischievous…I never would have thought that he was much more of a troll than I originally thought." he sighed, his shoulders limp, his posture sloppy.
[I have the same opinion as well, but, partner, you should wake up first, you have things to do, after all, becoming stronger and more resilient is essential for your survival in this world where everything is possible, am I right, partner?!]
"W-Well then, when could we continue this talk of ours? After all, this is some important matter." he stuttered.
[Hm…]
[We can continue this conversation in your mind even if your body is conscious…Think of it like a Servant-Master relationship from your world!]
"Oh, it's is only that simple, I presume…" he responded
"So, how do I wake up from this dream?"
[Just imagine your eyes fluttering open, partner, it should work because this world functions similarly to that of your dreams]
"Thank you" he bowed at the figure, earning a chuckle in the form of an enthusiastic growl.
[Knowledgeable, formal, and experienced, unlike my previous wielder who only has potential but not the skill and the determination…]
[Your feeling of fear and dread dissipated much sooner than compared to my previous wielders even before that perverted malice…]
[You are interesting, Emiya Shirou…you always are ever since you overtook this body!]
…
The world around the brunette fluttered from the fiery inferno to Hyoudou Issei's room, his tired eyes that lacked the modesty of sleep, examining the surroundings. The eerie light of the moon pierces the window, reflecting on the floor, the sun's orange glow rising but still covered with a night. It was dawn, the day was approaching quickly.
He was in a neatly organized room, with a desk near the door, and a wardrobe near his bed.
He knew he had to be prepared at all costs, be it day or night, dawn or daybreak. He had to make the body adapt to his routines and as such he regularly started to wake himself up, at approximately the same time he woke himself up in his previous world to rigorously train.
Instead of wallowing in his thoughts about the conversation earlier, he stood up, revealing his disheveled clothes and messy brown hair, the red strands reflecting the eerie glow of moonlight.
Surprisingly, his body was just sore. Perhaps, awakening his sacred gear is the one that caused his resilience to be higher?
He sighed as he stretched his stiff bones, a satisfying pop resounding from the joints. After he performed his daily stretches, he went on with his usual routine of exercising and conditioning his vessel.
He kneeled then spread his palm wide in the ground, straightening his posture, to that of a form more akin to that of a plank. Inhaling air, his upper core muscles and his arms clenched as he brought his body up and down, only using his two arms as a tool to do so. He performed about fifty sets of that very same exercise.
He then brought one of his arms to his back, only using one arm to push his body upwards and then downwards. It was an exercise harder than the last one but it did not do so much as falter him as after completing fifty sets, he let his other arm do the work, letting the first to rest in his back.
As he finished the fifty sets of that exercise, he laid his back on the floor to resemble that of a plank, bringing upon his arms and hands at his back to support the head. He clenched his lower body muscles, his legs were planted in the ground as hard as he could manage. With speed, he brought his upper body upwards and back to the plank-like position, inhaling fresh air with every repetition.
After finishing fifty sets of those exercises, he stood up, bringing his arms and hands together. Slowly he brought his body along with his legs backward, calf clenched. He then made sure that his posture would be the same along the sets of repetitions he would need to do.
The brunette only sighed as he stood up after performing fifty sets of that very same exercise. He then straightened his body posture as he approached the hanged, battered, and worn-out bundle of sack which was filled with hard sand, his eyes never leaving the object.
Through the months he had stayed here, it never gave him a lead to go back to his previous world. Fortunately, it gave him time, which led him to discover that some of his blades, particularly the black keys that once belonged to the fake priest he had fought once before, provided him with memories of how the users of those blades would train their bodies and how they would train themselves in the field of hand to hand combat.
It was, as much to say, useful information that the former redhead and the mind of his that belonged to the counter guardian would be thankful for because, he concluded that hitting the sack that he specifically made to fit the vessel's capabilities, would be his primary way of conditioning it.
Inhaling air, he squared his position and struck with impressive speeds, appearing as a blur. He hit the "target" with technique and precision, visualizing the inanimate object to be an organic, pulsing target, striking at the possible weak points as if it was alive.
Slight scarring started to become apparent in his fists and shins, but he paid no mind.
Landing his last blow, he once again inhaled air, examining his now bruised and battered hands. He sighed exasperated as he remembered that his magic circuits might overheat once again and his reserves were also dried up.
This meant that he wouldn't be able to train his magecraft for now.
He approached the door and turned its handle, stepping out of his bedroom and descending the stairs afterward. His "parents" were still asleep, and he is thankful for that because he could roam freely without as much of a consequence.
He then approached the bathroom to bathe himself not before preparing a pair of Issei Hyoudou's preferred style of the Kuoh Academy uniform, which is only composed of a black blazer and a red shirt, and a pair of black pants.
Despite knowing that the required Kuoh Academy uniform is more formal than this, he chose not to change it as a way to show respect to the previous inhabitant's fashion choices, because this is still Hyoudou's body, it is not his and it would never be his.
He then headed to the kitchen to immerse himself in cooking, wanting to prepare breakfast and packed lunch for all of them, including the albino's own as he promised.
A/N: Final Update in this Chapter: March 16, 2023. Corrected some spelling mistakes and added more detail.