FATE/Blood
Fate/Stay Night x Bloodborne Crossover.
It seems I have a reader whose reading comprehension or knowledge of the game Bloodborne is as vast as his reading comprehension… which is none. I was trying to be charitable and not insult him, but since he opened the door… well, he is getting a full blast.
To anonymous reviewer Star
He recreated them unconsciously, ergo he had no knowledge on HOW these blades came to be, he was so worried his body acted on autopilot.
That's LITERALLY how Shirou's ability works, he only needs to see any blade one, even if he didn't know of it.
The city is blocked by the power of Orphan of Koz and the grudge of Koz. Something you'd know if you played the game, you can go IN the nightmare, but you cannot get OUT.
I hope you are proud of showcasing your ignorance and assholery. If you don't like my story you do not have to read it. I gave you a chance in good faith, but you showcased your inability to read, comprehend or even do cursory investigation about Bloodborne. I suggest you find something more up your speed, like… nursery rhymes.
Chapter 5: A Hunter's Compassion Amidst the Darkness
The streets of Yharnam were labyrinthine, a twisted snarl of alleys and passages that seemed to wind endlessly, reminiscent of a maze devised by a mad mind. Every turn felt like a plunge into uncertainty, and Shirou knew that unlike the hero who had faced the Minotaur, he had no Ariadne to guide him with a thread. He moved cautiously, senses sharp and his saw cleaver at the ready.
As he pressed forward, he remembered the badges he'd found during his journey—tokens that had confused him with their significance. The first came as he fought the Cleric Beast. The creature had roared with primal fury, shaking the very cobblestones beneath him, before Shirou managed to deal the final blow. When it fell, it had left behind a peculiar badge, engraved with arcane symbols. He had picked it up, wondering at its purpose. It was clear it held significance, but its true meaning eluded him.
Another badge came into his possession after a different kind of battle. He recalled the terrified screams of the young girl as she ran from the monstrous pig that had cornered her. After saving her, and reuniting her with her sister, Shirou had stumbled across the Saw Hunter Badge—a symbol, perhaps, of his role as a protector in this twisted world. He still didn't know what these badges were meant to signify or why they were important, but he carried them with him nonetheless, as reminders of the trials he'd overcome.
Shirou's reverie was broken by the familiar clang of weapons against stone. He approached the lower cathedral ward, descending a set of narrow stairs that led from a broad plaza, where two massive Church Giants stood vigil. They were formidable, armored in worn metal and carrying massive weapons. Shirou knew that a direct confrontation with both at once would be unwise.
He watched, calculating his next move. One of the giants moved away, patrolling to the far end of the plaza, leaving the other temporarily isolated. Shirou darted in, reinforcing his body to move faster. His saw cleaver unfolded in his hand, the jagged blade sinking into the giant's exposed leg. It roared, swinging its massive weapon toward him, but Shirou rolled to the side, narrowly evading the strike. He moved swiftly, each motion precise, each cut aimed to bring the giant down.
The second giant noticed the commotion, its heavy footsteps echoing across the plaza. Shirou knew he had only moments before he would be facing both of them. He focused, striking the first giant with all his strength, his blade cleaving through the creature's armor and flesh. The giant fell with a thunderous crash, and Shirou immediately turned and sprinted away, the second giant giving chase.
He ducked into a narrow side passage, where the walls were close enough to touch on either side. The giant couldn't follow, its bulk too large for the confined space. Shirou heard the frustrated growl of the creature behind him, but he continued forward, descending deeper into the ward.
The air grew heavier as he approached a dead-end door on the left, where he found a lone woman. She wore a red dress that seemed out of place in the desolate surroundings, her eyes weary but her demeanor calm. She looked at him, a glimmer of curiosity mixed with something else in her gaze.
"Who are you, stranger?" she asked, her voice smooth, almost teasing. "A young hunter, are you? You look far too innocent to be wandering these streets alone."
Shirou paused, unsure of how to respond. There was something about her—an energy that felt out of place in Yharnam. She stepped closer, her smile almost playful. "You know, it's dangerous out here. Perhaps you could... protect me?" She ran a hand gently across his arm, her eyes searching his.
Shirou blinked, not quite understanding her intentions. "If you're looking for a safe place, you should go to Oedon Chapel," he said, his voice steady. "It's protected, and you won't be alone there."
Arianna pouted slightly, clearly expecting a different response, but she nodded. "Oedon Chapel, you say? Very well, hunter. If you're recommending it, I suppose I can trust you." She gave him a lingering look, her gaze trailing over his face. "You really are quite handsome, you know."
Shirou simply nodded, missing the implication entirely. "The streets are dangerous. Move quickly and stay out of sight," he said, turning his attention back to the dark passage ahead. "It should a bit safer since I cleared out quite a lot of enemies on the way here"
Then, he paused, as if remembering something important. He turned back to Arianna, his expression softening. "There are two young girls at the chapel," he said quietly, his voice carrying a note of earnestness. "They're alone and scared. Please... look after them until I return."
Arianna's eyes widened slightly, and she looked at Shirou with a hint of surprise. For a moment, the teasing smile left her face, replaced by a gentle sincerity. "Two young girls, you say? Of course, I will," she said, her voice losing its playful edge. "I promise I'll take care of them."
Shirou bowed his head slightly in gratitude. "Thank you. They need someone to be there for them. I won't be long, but it means a lot to me."
Arianna reached out, touching his arm briefly. "You're a good man, hunter. I can see that. I'll do what I can for them." She gave him one last look before turning to leave, her red dress disappearing into the darkness.
As Shirou watched her go, a sense of relief washed over him. It wasn't just about saving lives—it was about making sure those lives had a chance, no matter how small, to find comfort and hope.
He turned back to the narrow passageways of Yharnam, ready to face whatever came next. The badges in his pocket were a reminder of how far he had come, and the people he had saved—however fleeting that salvation might be. And as long as he drew breath, Shirou would continue to fight, one step at a time, through the maze of Yharnam.
Shirou stepped cautiously through the Cathedral Ward, his senses alert. It was a place he had already traversed before, but the labyrinthine architecture of Yharnam often hid secrets in its shadows. The grand doors of Oedon Chapel creaked open as he entered once more, the echoes carrying through the empty vastness of the place.
He had returned to ensure the safety of the two young girls and Arianna, who were now taking shelter there. The chapel felt oddly peaceful for a moment, the desolate silence a stark contrast to the screams and howls that filled the streets outside. It was a strange thing, but this place almost felt like a sanctuary. Shirou took a moment to close his eyes and breathe, allowing himself to briefly rest. There was still much to do, but moments like this helped him stay centered amidst the chaos.
He scanned his surroundings, his eyes wandering across the room. There was a sense of something... off, an unnoticed detail tugging at his awareness. His eyes caught sight of an alcove he had not paid attention to before—a small area tucked into the side, partially obscured by some debris.
Shirou approached, the dim light catching something metallic. As he cleared away the debris, he uncovered a chest. It was plain, wooden, and battered by age. He slowly knelt and unlatched it, carefully opening the lid.
Inside lay a curious item—a strange tool, intricate and covered in arcane symbols. It had the look of something ancient, almost like an artifact that belonged in a craftsman's workshop. As he held it in his hands, he felt the weight of its purpose, the peculiar craftsmanship evident in its design.
"A blood gem workshop tool..." Shirou murmured to himself. He had heard about blood gems from the Gerharm, but this was his first time finding something related to them.
The tool, as he understood, was used to fortify weapons by kneading blood gems into them—almost like a fusion of mysticism and craftsmanship. He studied it carefully, his mind connecting the dots. Blood gems were special; they could enhance weapons, adding new properties. The way they worked almost made it seem as though weapons became an extension of the organism itself, the blood defining its nature.
He thought back to his saw cleaver, the weapon that had served him faithfully since his arrival in Yharnam. It had saved his life countless times, biting into the grotesque flesh of abominations with unyielding fury. Perhaps with this workshop tool, he could make it stronger—more resilient, deadlier, better suited to face the horrors that awaited.
Shirou clenched the tool tightly for a moment before carefully storing it away. There was something oddly fitting about it; the notion that his weapons, much like himself, could grow and evolve through the trials they faced. The blood of Yharnam was strange, filled with power and madness, but it also held potential.
He stood, glancing toward the direction of the Oedon Chapel's interior, where Arianna and the girls rested. His purpose here had grown—he wasn't merely a wandering hunter. He had people to protect, and that meant he needed every advantage he could gain. The Cathedral Ward, with its secrets and hidden tools, had just offered him another step towards that goal.
Steeling himself, Shirou moved out of the alcove, his hand brushing the hilt of his saw cleaver. There were still more dangers to face, more innocents to protect. And now, with the blood gem workshop tool in his possession, he could begin preparing for whatever challenges lay ahead—fortifying both his weapons and his resolve for the battles yet to come.
Shirou decided it was time to return to the Hunter's Dream. The thought of enhancing his weapons with the newly discovered blood gem workshop tool lingered in his mind, filling him with determination. As he materialized in the familiar garden of flowers, the peacefulness of the place contrasted with the nightmare outside. The Doll was there, waiting, her serene gaze turning towards him.
"Excuse me, if I may ask something of you?" Shirou asked, his voice polite as he approached.
The Doll bowed her head slightly, her gentle voice responding, "Yes, good hunter? Of what may I be of service?"
Shirou hesitated for a moment, considering his words. "I was wondering if I could enhance my weapons, perhaps with the blood gems. Would you know how?"
The Doll's porcelain face softened, a tinge of sadness in her eyes. "Unfortunately, I am not well-versed in the intricacies of weaponry, good hunter. Mr. Gehrman might be more knowledgeable in such matters."
Shirou couldn't hide the disappointment that flickered across his face, but he quickly shook his head. "It's alright. The fact that someone here might have an answer is more than enough. You've been a great help regardless."
The Doll gave him a warm smile, and it filled him with a sense of calm that momentarily eased the turmoil inside. With that, Shirou walked up the cobblestone path towards the cottage where Gehrman usually sat.
Inside, the aging hunter was in his familiar spot, resting in his chair. He looked up as Shirou approached, his eyes weary but attentive.
"Ah... you're back, then. Tell me, what can this old bag of bones do for you?" Gehrman greeted him, his words followed by a fit of coughing.
Shirou reached into his coat and drew Kanshou and Bakuya, holding the twin swords for Gehrman to see. "I was hoping to fortify these with blood gems. Is that possible?"
Gehrman's eyes widened slightly as he inspected the weapons. He seemed genuinely taken aback. "Those swords... How... Incredible," he murmured, his gaze tracing the intricate patterns on the blades. "I've never seen anything quite like them."
Unbeknownst to Gehrman, during the desperate rescue of the second missing sister, Shirou had managed to push through the barriers in his understanding, completing the steps needed to trace Kanshou and Bakuya. The swords now stood as a solid manifestation, a forged illusion so powerful it fooled even the world around him. Despite this, he understood that they remained imitations—an inferior copy that, though formidable, still had limitations. One step away from the real thing as it where.
After a few more moments of inspection, Gehrman set his gaze back on Shirou. His tone was thoughtful but held a hint of regret. "These blades are truly remarkable, good hunter, but they weren't made with the concept of blood gems in mind. They lack the connection to the hunter's blood ministration. Blood gems have properties that interact directly with weapons crafted by hunters—trick weapons that draw strength from the blood itself."
Shirou frowned, disappointment washing over him. He had hoped that fortifying Kanshou and Bakuya would give him an edge in the battles ahead.
Gehrman smiled faintly, offering some encouragement. "Still, good hunter, do not be discouraged. These swords you wield are as powerful as any I've seen, perhaps even more so. And if you wish to fortify your trick weapons, the blood gems will serve you well. The saw cleaver, for instance, can grow even deadlier when enhanced properly."
Shirou nodded slowly, processing the information. "Thank you, Gehrman. It seems I still have much to learn."
Gehrman chuckled lightly, his old eyes glimmering. "Ah, indeed. But learning is part of the hunt, is it not? And perhaps, with your unique abilities, you'll discover something even we old hunters never imagined."
Shirou left the cottage with a renewed sense of purpose. Kanshou and Bakuya may not benefit from the blood gems, but he could still fortify his saw cleaver. The road ahead was long, and each advantage, no matter how small, was essential. As he glanced at the twin swords, he felt a quiet determination. They would not be neglected. Whether through prana or blood gems, Shirou knew that he would find a way to make them even stronger.
After some time spent familiarizing himself with the Saw Spear, Shirou made his way back to the workbench, blood gems in hand. These particular gems would enhance the physical power of his weapon, making each strike stronger and more effective against the beasts of Yharnam. He set the Saw Spear down on the bench and carefully began to work.
Shirou focused on the gems, letting his prana flow through his circuits as he began to infuse them into the weapon. Each gem had its unique properties, and Shirou could feel the way the blood's essence resonated with the Saw Spear, almost as if it were breathing new life into it. He concentrated on every part of the process—channeling his magical energy to embed the gem's essence deep within the steel, ensuring the spear could handle the strain of the enhanced power that he had reinforced the Gems with.
The physical attacks would now have more impact—he could feel it as he gave the spear a few practice swings, each strike carrying greater force than before. He stepped back, eyeing the weapon with satisfaction. It wasn't just a tool for survival anymore; it had become a weapon that could take on Yharnam's monstrosities with even greater efficiency.
Shirou could imagine the spear's newfound potential—its attacks striking harder, cutting deeper, perhaps enough to take down even the tougher beasts in fewer blows. It was an improvement, a step forward in his preparation for what lay ahead. He knew Yharnam held even greater challenges than he had faced thus far, and every advantage mattered.
As he stood up, feeling the enhanced weight of the weapon in his hands, Shirou took a deep breath. The path forward remained fraught with danger, but with the Saw Spear enhanced to this level, he felt that much more prepared. It wasn't enough yet—not nearly enough to fulfill his purpose, to save those he could—but it was progress.
And for now, that was all he could ask for.
As Shirou examined the Saw Spear, fresh from the messengers, he couldn't help but let his thoughts drift back to Fuyuki. The streets of Yharnam, labyrinthine and oppressive, felt worlds away from the familiar alleys of his hometown. His grip tightened on the weapon as faces flickered through his mind—Taiga, always so full of energy, her smile an anchor in his life. Sakura, quiet and kind, whose subtle presence had become so familiar to him. He wondered how they were doing, how his sudden absence must have affected them.
His gaze fell to the bloodied cobblestones beneath his feet. Yharnam's nightmare felt inescapable, but Shirou couldn't let it crush him. He had to find a way back, to bring this madness to an end. If there was one thing he knew, it was that he wouldn't leave this world in chaos. He owed that much to the people who had believed in him.
Turning his attention back to the Saw Spear, he gave it a few practice swings. The weapon was lighter than the Saw Cleaver, but the extendable reach in its spear form made it versatile for both close and mid-range combat. Each swing felt smoother than the last, and soon he began switching between modes, gaining familiarity with its unique balance and potential.
After a time, he returned to the workshop. The blood gem he'd obtained earlier glistened faintly in his hand, its power tied to the very essence of the world. He knelt before the workbench, slotting the gem into the weapon with a practiced hand. The Saw Spear thrummed with new strength, the enhancement complete. His weapon had grown stronger, and so had his resolve.
"Taiga… Sakura," he muttered under his breath, the faces of his loved ones still fresh in his mind. "I'll find a way back. I won't let this nightmare swallow me."
Shirou stood in the dim light of Yharnam's streets, his breath steady as he visualized his next weapon. He sought something with more finesse—something that could give him an edge in mobility. He closed his eyes and focused, tracing the steps in his mind.
"Judging the concept of creation," he began, as the shape of the weapon appeared in his thoughts.
The Threaded Cane was an elegant weapon, a mix of a cane and a whip, capable of transforming mid-battle to strike with wide arcs. He saw its unique structure, a refined tool favored by hunters who needed both precision and reach.
"Hypothesizing the basic structure," he continued, visualizing the slim, cane-like form in his hands, knowing it could extend into its whip-like shape. Each segment of the cane was designed to snap outward, delivering strikes with both speed and control.
"Duplicating the composition material," he muttered, the materials forming in his mind—a mix of sturdy steel and arcane mechanisms that allowed the weapon to transform in an instant.
A faint glow appeared before him, and in the blink of an eye, the Threaded Cane materialized in his hand. Its weight felt perfect, and he could sense the hidden power within it.
Shirou wasted no time. With a flick of his wrist, the cane snapped out into its whip form, the segments extending like a serpent. He practiced the movements, his body flowing with the weapon as it sliced through the air. The rhythm was different from his previous weapons, more fluid and flexible. The whip-like motion felt almost like tracing a spell, each motion requiring precision and control.
Then, he concentrated on something more advanced—The Art of Quickening. This technique allowed for rapid movements, almost like disappearing and reappearing in a flash. He focused his prana into his legs, reinforcing them while feeling the energy course through his circuits. He took a deep breath, then with a burst of speed, he vanished from his spot and reappeared a few feet away.
Satisfied with his mobility, he sought out enemies in the streets of Yharnam to practice the art in real combat. Ahead, he spotted a group of beasts lumbering toward him, their grotesque forms sluggish but dangerous. Shirou quickened his pace, moving with unnatural speed as he closed the distance. With a flick of the cane, it snapped into its whip form, lashing out and slicing through the air.
The first beast had no time to react before the whip slashed across its chest, sending it staggering. Shirou quickened again, weaving between two more beasts, the cane snapping back into its regular form as he struck with precision, a fluid movement followed by another flash of Quickening.
The beasts were slow compared to his newfound speed. Every time they lunged, he would blur out of their reach, his body moving faster than they could perceive. The Threaded Cane danced in his hands, switching between its forms as he dispatched each enemy with ease. Each strike was swift, the cane cracking like a whip and cutting through flesh.
As the last of the beasts fell, Shirou stood tall, breathing evenly. Quickening had drained him, but it was a technique that would make him a more formidable hunter. He knew there was more to learn, more to master, but for now, he had taken another step toward survival.
Looking at the Threaded Cane in his hand, Shirou felt a sense of accomplishment. "One more tool, one more weapon in this nightmare," he muttered. "I'll use everything I can to find a way out."
Shirou made his way through the Cathedral Ward, his footsteps echoing softly in the eerie silence of the grand city. The air was thick with tension, and Yharnam's labyrinthine streets twisted and turned in ways that made it impossible to know where they would lead next. Every alleyway felt like a trap, every corner holding the promise of danger.
He moved with caution, the Threaded Cane in hand, its form ready to shift at a moment's notice. He had learned to navigate the streets of Yharnam well enough, but something about this path unsettled him. There was a pull, a sensation that drew him forward, toward a looming, ornate cathedral in the distance.
The closer he got, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. A low growl echoed from nearby, and Shirou instinctively reinforced his body, preparing for the worst. He rounded the corner only to come face to face with two hulking Church Giants, their enormous axes dragging across the stone floor. Their hollow eyes locked onto him, and they bellowed with rage.
Without hesitation, Shirou leaped into action. He extended the Threaded Cane, its whip-like form snapping through the air toward the first giant. The beast swung its massive axe, but Shirou was already gone, using Quickening to dash out of range. The whip cracked across the giant's arm, but its thick hide barely registered the blow.
Shirou needed more force. He switched the Threaded Cane back into its solid form, darting in close to the first giant. With a powerful slash, he struck at the back of its legs, aiming to weaken its stance. The giant howled in pain, staggering, but its partner was already swinging down with a crushing blow.
Quickening again, Shirou barely dodged the attack, the axe embedding itself into the ground where he had just stood. Breathing heavily, he reinforced his arms, gripping the cane tightly. He danced between the two giants, striking fast and retreating before they could counterattack. His strikes were precise, cutting deep into the exposed joints and weak spots.
After a flurry of swift attacks, the first giant fell, crashing to the ground with a deafening thud. The second giant roared, enraged by its comrade's defeat. It swung its axe in a wide arc, forcing Shirou to dodge backward. Timing his next move, Shirou charged forward, slipping under the giant's swing and delivering a final, decisive strike to its chest. The giant groaned as it collapsed, its massive body lifeless on the ground.
Shirou stood amidst the carnage, panting. His reinforced body had taken a toll, but there was no time to rest. He had to push forward.
Ahead of him was the grand entrance to the cathedral. It loomed like a dark sentinel, and despite the battles he had just fought, an unease settled over him. There was something waiting for him inside—something powerful.
With a steadying breath, Shirou pushed open the heavy doors. The interior of the cathedral was vast, its high ceilings casting deep shadows across the floor. A large altar stood at the far end of the room, but his attention was drawn to a figure kneeling before it. A woman, draped in a massive white fur-lined robe, was praying. Her back was to him, but there was something unnatural about her presence.
Shirou approached cautiously, his eyes scanning the room for any other threats. The woman remained still, her soft murmurs of prayer the only sound in the silent cathedral. As he stepped closer, he could see that her form was shifting slightly, her body trembling as if struggling against something.
Before he could call out, the woman's body convulsed. Bones cracked, her form twisting and warping into something grotesque. Shirou's instincts screamed at him to move, to prepare for a fight. He backed away, gripping his Threaded Cane tightly, ready to react.
The transformation was swift. The woman—no, the creature that now stood before him—was massive, towering over him with glowing eyes full of sorrow and fury. Its fur-covered limbs were monstrous, its hands ending in long, sharp claws. She—whatever she had been—had become something inhuman, a monstrous beast.
Shirou's breath caught in his throat. "What is this?" he whispered, his grip tightening on his weapon.
The creature let out a blood-curdling roar, shaking the very walls of the cathedral. Without hesitation, it lunged at him, claws outstretched. Shirou barely had time to dodge, using Quickening to move out of the beast's reach.
This was going to be a fight unlike any he had faced before.
With the Threaded Cane in hand, Shirou readied himself for battle, knowing that this monstrous foe—whoever she had once been—would not go down easily. He would need every ounce of skill, every technique he had learned, to survive this encounter.
Chapter end