A/N: Here comes the fight scene. It's short though, that's because I'm still practicing on doing fight scenes. Maybe in could make linger ones on the future. That's also the reason why this chapter got delayed. I know I don't have a fixed schedule, but this was planned to be uploaded three days ago, but I rewrote the entirety of the fight many times because I can't seem to land in a good one.
Anyway, Reviews:
guillermosejas: Not on this chapter, but I might do it If I'm in the mood.
Lugal Kug-ga: Thank you for the tip, it's always appreciated to criticize the author fairly. Yes, I was actually trying new stuff. I'll probably apply this style on the future. With Liz being an OC, I was actually eager to develop her further… most of the side characters a OCs so there's probably chapters about them too.
Bucio: Changed it lmao. Idk what came over me when I wrote that. And it somehow got through editing.
CursedIdol: Is that name a dragon age reference? Probably not. Anyway you are slightly correct, the shadow adjusts itself, although, the shadow transforms depending on what the target considers "dangerous", Berserker was the first candidate but Shirou got killed by Cu first and it got confused. Also thanks for the correction.
2hupedia: Funny thing is, no one ever witnessed Old Man Zel do stuff, the whole fandom just kinda assumed that he was more active than he actually is. (Except the creation of the Grail War System. He was VERY involved in that.)
That's it! Onto the Story! (Pls review I highly appreciate it)
Shirou
Shirou stood in front of the rubble, his hands tucked away in his jacket as the cold weather permeates his surroundings. It has been a few days after the meltdown. It was considered somewhat safe now, if not, there is Avalon protecting him from minor radiations.
All of those people at the plant died a meaningless death. The scene in front of him stood as proof of such notion. Rubble everywhere. No recorded survivors.
It was the same as that day. The day he promised not to let repeat again.
But he did. This time he did. All because of his selfishness.
Something tells him that he should've been there, inside the plant. He could've been there, saving as much people as he can. But another small speck inside his mind screamed its hardest: "There was nothing you could do." And "Going there ends your lif- No. Freedom."
But he just knew. His instincts were screaming at him: "You should've been there, you could save all of them. You should've accepted the con-!"
Shirou's mind flashed back to the present. What was he doing until now? He has soldiers to command! He turned his head to the personnel behind him. They were visibly shaking. He understood, this small village emanates such a malicious presence that it could be compared to a magus's deterring bounded field, only much worse.
Their mind and body were probably screaming at them to run, to escape. To get as far away from this place as possible. They should probably do it. That is the correct course of action.
"Men, be advised. If you feel that you cannot bare it any longer. Run. Do not look back." He spoke in a stern voice. They need to get away, staying does not benefit them. That is what Shirou concluded.
One of the soldiers stared at Shirou in bewilderment. "Sire? W-why!? We cannot leave you here!" They objected with zeal. "The gods themselves would frown at such insolence!"
"Damn the gods! Run away if you must!" He sneered back. 'Why are they so stubborn!?' The young monarch thought in anger.
"B-but." They tried to object.
"Go!"
All of them gulped before bowing in respect. "You must come back safe, Your Majesty. As promised to the princess." Erik was the one who spoke, hesitation in his lips.
Shirou nods, wearing one of his false smiles. "Worry not. I will."
They nod back in silence. The soldiers proceeded to run away as fast as they can, murmuring to themselves.
Not a moment later. They were out of sight. Shirou turned his back again as he scanned the area for any hostile movements. So far, nothing comes up. The only thing he sensed is the dreadful nature that the ruins emanates, being made worse by his sense of smell.
He breathed in and out, starting his projection.
"Trace on. Projection Start."
Starting recreation.
"Hypothesizing basic structure."
The basic theory behind the blueprint inside his mind.
"Duplicating the composition of material."
Using "nothing" to truly create "something." A theory thought impossible, such as the naiveté of old magi.
"Imitating the skill of making."
Synthesizing the materials made of air. Shaping the object based on memory alone.
"Reproducing accumulated years."
Imperfections, nicks, and tear. Perfectly recreated as he remembers them.
"Excelling all manufacturing process."
And finally, with the finishing touches.
"Trace complete. Trigger off."
Two swords appeared in his hands. The married blades. The swords that he found during his trip in China. Enamored by their beauty, he decided to try and recreate them during his years as a mercenary. The resilient Kanshou, and the beautiful Bakuya. The tragedy of its creation made a legend around itself. These weapons were the base of his own swordsmanship. Anything up until now were copied from his knights and other warriors.
Taking a stance, he prepared himself for battle. His eyes could see nothing yet. Nothing hostile or anything of the same nature. But contrasting it, is the dreadful mana that his nose picked up. Death, Rot, Fear(?), and… Fire. A hot, searing, everlasting fire of destruction.
"A flood of fire." Shirou whispered under his breath, disgust coating his voice.
Fwish*
"Tsk!" At the corner of his eye, he gazed upon a shadow.
Fwish*
The bushes moved. The wind howled. The repugnant odor of the burned ruins taken with it.
"Now, where are you?" He spoke to no one in particular.
Just then, the moonlight that lit up the dark night dimmed. He felt something loom above him, a dark omen. As if to mock the young man, just as he turned.
He saw a figure emerge from one of the ruins. A shadow Lancer. Before he could even breathe, the false spearman dashed to his direction.
Now on full alert, Shirou reinforced his limbs and readied his blades in a defensive position. With the sound of metal colliding. Shirou shielded himself using his blades. Now in a blade lock, Shirou mustered all the strength to redirect the shadow's spear.
"Tsk" Shirou winced in pain as he dashed back, away from his opponent. 'Almost dislocated my wrist there!' His eyes darted to a nearby house. With all his strength, the king bolted to said ruin, just in time before the Lancer launched another attack.
"The delays are still there, it's still not as fast as the actual Lancer. But Gae Bolg's impact… it's definitely stronger than the one at the count's mansion." He audibly relayed the information, thinking of his next move. 'If I could at least exploit that delay, maybe I could land a fatal blow.'
Just then, he felt the wall behind him crack. The enemy has found his positon. Just as he heard the explosion, he ran away as fast as he can to reposition.
A few moments later, he found himself southward from Lancers current position. His eyes narrowed to the spearman's torso. 'That's it!' With a reinforced dash, he lunged himself to the enemy, married blades in a cross position.
Clang!*
Their blades collided once more. But this time, it was in Shirou's favour. As the king's upward swing was deflected, he observed the false Lancer's delays in movement, especially the way he attacks. 'Now, downward.' It was deflected again. He tried to slice horizontally leftward, it was deflected again.
He tried another. The same thing happened.
And another.
And another.
And another.
Twenty or so Minutes Later
And lastly- "Gotcha!" A point-five second opening, it only happens when his own defenses falter a bit.
He dashed back and repositioned his body, preparing himself to execute his plan. 'Okay, let's go!' Lowering his own defenses, the Lancer tried to stab Shirou in the throat. It was a bait, and Lancer took it. "Take this!" With another vertical slash, he broke through the shadow's defenses entirely.
Not wasting even a second, he lodged both Kanshou and Bakuya to the Lancer's chest, making a deep wound and even piercing the spearman's back. He let go of the swords and let the spearman fall to the ground.
Staring at the knocked down shadow Lancer, he noticed that it was slowly disintegrating. He breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down to the ground. It was tiring fight, stalling until he found and opening isn't exactly conserving his stamina. For now, he could go back to Illyasviel and-!
Just as Shirou thought of rest, he felt dread creep down his spine. His eyes darted around the ruins, and just as he feared, multiple shadows emerged from each corner. "You gotta be kidding me." One-by-one, all of them slowly take a distinct humanoid form. He was now expected to fight multiple shadow Lancers.
Illyasviel
Somewhere in the forest, Illya and her knights stood in front of a sigil made of blood. Illya has successfully erected a bounded field at the surrounding area, no one could get out safely without her explicit permission. A bounded field such as these would normally require more preparation, but due to the world's increased ambient mana, it worked faster than anticipated.
"We're done here." Illya wiped the sweat that was trickling down her forehead. She looked up and saw one of the knights holding a stool from the carriage. 'Oh thank god, my legs are about to give out.'
The knight approached the princess and laid the stool in front of her. "A seat Milady?" He said, slapping the top of the wooden chair in invitation.
Illya smiled warmly and nods. "My thanks." She sat down and breathed out a sigh of relief, a bit of respite in these trying times could help calm the soul.
She stared at the soil beneath her feet. Deep in thought, she contemplates the next plan of action. Erecting a bounded field doesn't guarantee that whatever that blob was will not escape. 'Onii-chan and the others must've found what they were looking for by now… maybe I should check.'
Murmuring a spell, she opened her mental link with her brother, this spell supposed to recreate the mental link between a contracted Servant and its Master by synchronizing their od with eachother and letting their message travel using the ambient mana. They were successful in that regard.
'Uhh… Onii-chan? You there?' She called mentally, waiting for her dear brother to respond. He was weirdly taking so long to talk back. 'Huh, that's weird.' She scratched her head.
Illya closed her eyes, inhaled and exhaled, preparing for what she is about to do next. 'Hellooo~ Pretty and adorable little sister calling here~ Hoping an equally handsome onii-chan who loves her very much would respond~ Pretty please~!' Again, nothing. Not even an awkward laugh. Now, Illyasviel was concerned.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of metal come their way. It sounded like armor. Not long after, as her group gazed at the direction it was coming from, a party of soldiers emerged, exhausted. Illya recognized the sigil in their shoulder.
"Foot soldiers that His Majesty brought. What gives?" One of the knights asked while he approached the soldiers.
"Nevermind that, I have some questions." Illya raised her hands, halting the knight in his path. The princess regent walked to the position of the exhausted soldiers and asked: "Pray tell, what are you lot doing here?" She spoke in a commanding tone, desperately looking for information.
Erik huffed in exhaustion, forcibly mustering the strength to stand straight. "Your Highness- We- we were ordered to retreat." He spoke in a panicked voice. "His Majesty… he said we should run if we felt that we can't take it anymore." The soldier said, his voice full of regret.
"And you did!?" Illya snarled, more worried that angry. "Now tell me, what in the gods' name did you see that you decided to leave him there!?" She uncharacteristically yelled, shocking even her personal knights.
Erik bit his lip and looked down in shame. "It-It's a village, burned to the ground. It felt unnatural, like it shouldn't even exist. My comrades felt the same, we tried to argue with His Majesty, but he was insistent." He spoke, stuttering.
It was all what Illya has feared when she insisted on coming along. "Was he alone in there?" She asked, having calmed down after a few moments.
"Y-yes." With a meek nod, a single word came out of Erik's mouth.
Illya pinched the bridge of her nose, holding herself back from shouting. With her hands now in her hips, she spoke: "We're going." She said, beckoning her troops. The knight stood-up from their posts and followed the princess.
She suddenly pointed at one of the foot soldiers beside Erik, "You there. Name." The young princess commanded.
"L-Licht, Milady." The soldier responded.
"Then Rick- Guide us." She spoke in a commanding tone.
"It's Licht-!" Before finishing his objection, he felt a firm hand in his shoulder. It was one of his comrades, who was shaking their head. As if encouraging the poor man to shut his mouth. He lowered his shoulder in acceptance. "This way, Princess." With a sigh of exasperation, he pointed up north.
Thirty Minutes Later.
A long while has passed since then. All of them were walking through the forest as the soldiers guided them to the direction of the ruins. With each step the miasma got stronger. Illya, the knights, and the foot soldiers were covering their noses.
Illya knew that they were getting closer. She could hear the clashing of metal as they walk.
Clang!*
Finally, they saw light. The knights could not believe what they were seeing. Their king, Isaiah. Wounded in a way they've never seen before. He was considered one of the best. But this sight says the opposite.
"Trace, on!" Illya's eyes widened as she saw what her brother did. Both of his bruised hands were holding a single sword. 'Nonono!' Illya knew what that sword was.
"I plead, let your greatness be held by these unworthy hands."
Sprites of light surround Shirou, the Lancers backing away in fear.
"Just this instance, grant me power!"
"Please! Onii-chan, no!" Illya ran towards Shirou, mustering all of her strength to stop him.
"Princess!" Sir Lucian shouted.
"Fell my enemies, cleave the wicked!"
"You can't do that. It's too dangerous!" Illya pleaded, but her shouts fell on deaf ears.
"Oh Sword of Selection!"
"Nooooo!" The princess in white yelled, crying.
"CALIBURN!"
With single swing, a beam of light befell the shadow enemies. In an instant they were all vaporized. The light lit up the surroundings for few seconds. Making the group cover their eyes, lest they be blinded.
As the light died down, so did the miasma. The surroundings were cleansed by the light of the sword.
Relief was felt across the whole group. The heavy and dreadful presence was now gone.
But such a feeling contrasts what Illya felt right at that moment. Shirou fell to his knees, his hands limped to the ground. He turned his head and smiled. "I did it." And then he fell, face-first to the soil.
Morning
The knights cooked breakfast as the sun rose up the sky. The soldiers were getting the carriages ready as they plan to go home early as their princess regent ordered.
One of the knights knocked at the door of the royal carriage. "Your Highness! It is time for breakfast!" He hollered. But there was no answer. The knight proceeded to open the door, what he saw was a dreadful sight.
Elegant and pristine Princess of Antaria, Elise Merialis. Disheveled in such a way that anyone could know what happened at a glance. Her hands were glowing, and it was touching the king's body.
'Bagged eyes, unkempt hair, heavy breathing. She never slept.' The knight concluded, he knew how much the princess cares about her brother, she was probably healing him all night.
The princess looked at the knight slowly, her face full of sadness and worry. "Leave me be." She spoke in a tired voice.
"B-but Princess-!"
"Leave!" She yelled, almost in a shriek
"As you wish." The knight has read the room and closed the door as fast as he can.
Now the siblings were alone once more. Illya continued to heal Shirou's wounds, her legs were numb, her eyes felt like they were falling out of her skull. 'I can't- not yet!' She thought. She could not afford to sleep, not when her only remaining family was in the verge of death.
She looked at the wounds that Shirou sustained, tears trickling down her cheeks. He was stabbed an approximate of ninety times, approximately thirty of it almost hitting vital organs, some of it were lethal, good thing she healed it as soon as Shirou fell.
Her heart was pounding heavily. Despite Shirou's relatively stable condition now, last night was different. She precisely healed the wounds within his body using magecraft, a single mistake could lead to death.
But Shirou was resilient, more than any other person are. If he managed to fight with these wounds then he could survive.
But there was the problem with his magic circuits too. He overused it during the fight. Even more so when he released the name of Caliburn. Illya knew the strength of the Sword of Selection, and what it meant to Shirou.
Suddenly, as she was healing a bruise. A hand touched her head. It was Shirou's. He was now awake.
"Illya… You worked hard. You can rest now." He said, a tired smile in his face.
"You- Stupid!" She cried. "Y-you almost died last night!" Tears fell even harder by the minute, she was now crying heavily. "Why are you always pulling stunts like that!?"
"Heh, years ago you were so eager to kill me- Aak! What was that for!?" He shouted, one of his wounds having been poked by his sister.
"How could I stay eager if you're trying to kill yourself first!?" She quipped while bandaging Shirou. "You yourself were so eager in fact that I was conflicted between thinking that you're either stupid or just plain suicidal!" She said, tightening the bandage.
"Ah! That's painful-!" Shirou winced.
"I was praying you know?" Illya suddenly spoke in a calm tone, making Shirou raise a brow. "I was praying to any damned gods out there to not let me wake up with your limp corpse in my carriage!"
"I'm sorry." That was the only thing that Shirou could speak at that moment. He was aware of his recklessness. But he knew that the weight of the life of the many outweighs his single life. He just cannot let that happen again.
He looked down and noticed that Illya has stopped talking. She fell asleep at the middle of their conversation. With her head leaning in his thigh, he patted her head as and followed her to sleep. A bit of respite in these trying times could help calm the soul. They've got work to do once they get home, they'll need all the rest they could get.
A/N: That ends this arc. I'll probably do an interlude next time, it depends. Also, hints about the next arc: If it works I'll probably focus more on political intrigue, I have a small brain so I'll have to work very hard to do it. It's a Shoujo/Otome isekai staple afterall, I can't affort to mess it up.
Anyway, follow and favourite, Please review if you can. See you next time, buh-bye!
