Chapter 199

Blood dripped from his nose as Shirou went twirling into the air, his death grip on the shinai coming back to bite him as he landed on it, the rounded tsuba smacking into one of his ribs.

Illya healed him up for the thirty first time, her eyes devoid of any worry at this point as she expertly weaved her threads, pinching her fingers together to set his nose back in place. A sickening crack was heard as Shirou winced, teeth gnashing together for a brief moment as fresh spikes of pain shot through his face, before his nose recovered.

"Again."

Saber stood a little to the side in front of him on the left, shinai held upwards with the tip aligned with her head.

This time however, she was joined by berserker on the side, a two-sided shinai projected by Shirou in her hands. She had no stance, casually standing there with the dual blade hanging loosely in her hands.

He was well-acquainted at this point with the savagery she was capable of, and was wary of the brutality that was sure to follow if he left his guard down.

Planting his feet firmly on the ground, he raised his shinai once more. All of his tricks, all of his tactics, they all fell apart in the face of overwhelming strength. He thought he'd already learnt this lesson with Saber, but he was once again reminded of just how far the distance between a human and a Servant was. Saber was one thing, but Berserker was another. One was a pillar of light that crushed anything it fell on. The other was a swirling tornado, a tight cyclone of destruction that swept up anything in it's path. Together, they grinded him down into pulp, bones creaking as his muscles screamed for relief.

But he wasn't helpless now.

With a single step, he charged forward, his shinai shooting forward in a thrust that was sure to pierce through Saber if she didn't move. In the corner of his eye, he could see the blade he projected sparkling as it zig zagged a path in the air, feinting towards both Saber and Berserker and putting them on guard. It was followed up with a scatter shot of mundane throwing daggers, the lack of accuracy made up with quantity.

Saber chose to deflect the blades that headed her way, while Berserker simply hugged the ground and kicking herself forward, the blades merely passing over her head.

While they were busy, Shirou kept one hand behind his back, the other hand gripping his shinai at a diagonal. The unorthodox stance was something unheard of in kendo, but Berserker immediately took notice of his posture and adjusted. Tapping her left foot on the ground, she turned her forward momentum into a hard pivot that swung her twin blade in a wide arc, her wrists flicking as well adding further speed to the sword.

All Shirou could see was a brown streak that collided with his shinai, his entire body rotating even with reinforcement applied. Digging his feet in, he put all his strength into gripping the hilt as veins popped out of the back of his hand. Before he could react, the second blade swung at him, this time with only half the power, but it still sent a jolt up his shoulder.

Spinning the sword in her hands, Berserker prepared to unleash a flurry of strikes, her waist and hips swiveling to amplify the torque. As the third strike landed, the hand behind Shirou burst out with a small rounded shield, a thick steel mound in the middle that easily parried Berserker's blade. Bending down, he transitioned into a charge with the shield, intending to ram into Berserker and turn it into a close quarters brawl, both to prevent from Saber from easily interfering as she might hit her ally, and to make it drastically harder for her to maneuver her dual-bladed shinai.

Unfortunately, even while holding back Berserker was still plenty fast. The parried blade spun, her hand on the one end of the shinai directly touching the 'blade' part to add more leverage, and the opposite end rose up in an upwards stroke to slam into his chest. With the shinai pushed up against his chest, the charge was severely blunted. Although it lacked the sharpness pierce through, Shirou could feel a sharp pain lance through as his sternum groaned under the pressure. For a moment, he was rooted in place.

That was when Saber rejoined the fight, raising her sword to cleave downward. Shirou's eyes widened, and he willed his arm to raise the shinai, desperate to guard against the hit that would probably break the wooden sword, and possibly his head. The moment he did so, Saber's form suddenly shifted, her hands shifting to a more horizontal axis that turned her move into a sudden thrust that went under his guard.

Something dropped from his buckler hand. Before Saber made contact, a small pouch on the ground burst into black powder, expanding into a swirling globe of black snow.

Feeling her thrust hit air, Saber focused her senses in the cloud of chaff, Berserker doing the same as she felt the pressure on the tip disappear.

They both sensed it at the same time, a strong disturbance scattering the chaff hanging in the air. A lengthy shadow struck from behind them, the force behind the weapon making the air whistle. Berserker rolled to the side, the blade chasing her dragging across the floor and producing an unpleasant shriek. As soon as it missed, the blade looped around to target Saber next, spinning in a downward arc. Saber felt something was off, but still moved towards where she could hear Shirou side stepping the weapon and then taking a step forward into a counter thrust.

As she left the cloud of chaff with that step, she realized what was wrong. Her blade was unable to reach Shirou, the point awkwardly hanging in the air for less than a second as she saw how far away he actually was.

The change was in his weapon. His shinai had been extended, now closer to the length of a zweihander than a regular katana. The buckler was gone, a glint of steel showing in the the extra long grip in his hands. The two Servants also noticed minute cracks running through the wood, possibly as a result of alteration. With superior reach, he built up momentum with each swing, seeking to attack both of them while staying out of range. The newly extended shinai formed two silver circles on each side as he spun the blade, a deadly revolution that that promised to cut down anything that strayed into their territory.

Against Saber however, they could do little more than deter her for a few moments. Her shinai clashed with the Shirou's once, then twice, and then on the third time after lulling him into a false expectation, she intercepted the blade and initiated a blade lock, catching it on her pommel and driving herself all the way forward until she could reach out and touch him. At the same time, Berserker dashed forward in another thrust, this time aimed at his stomach.

Strained to the brink, the shinai in Shirou's hands exploded, sending Saber reeling backwards as Berserker raised her hand to ward off splinters. On the side, Caster wards caught any stray fragments.

Caught off guard, the two were unprepared when Shirou charged forward, the only remaining part of the shinai held in his hands like a baton, the elongated hilt with steel swung in sideways arc at Sabers unprotected face.

From the side, a white leather strip wrapped around dried bamboo invaded the edge of his perception, forcing him to dodge it. Unfortunately, his momentum carried him forward into its path, and the shinai made contact with his cheek. The skin around the tip warped, caving in as the skin began to ripple outwards from the kinetic energy imparted by the blow. His eyes reflexive closed, and as the tip slid downwards, dragging across his skin, his head naturally followed and tilted towards one side. His neck strained as his head was pushed to one side, while his body maintained inertia, before it was forced to follow along through the neck bridging both sides.

The rest of the blow carried through, making his body turn, and then he collapsed to his knees in a daze. Inside his skull, his brain rattled around like a ping pong, turning his thoughts to mush.

"Not bad, I think that was almost half a minute."

On the side, Caster tapped the stopwatch at the moment Shirou fell to his knees. Bending down, she pulled out a sword embedded in the ground to disable the wards, allowing Illya and the maids to enter, the former healing Shirou while the latter cleaned up the aftermath of the fight.

"He was faster with his projection and alteration this time. They were much more solid this time, and he had some good judgement on what to make."

Saber shook her head at Berserkers assessment.

"His buckler and smoke bomb may have been thought-out, but his decision to lengthen his weapon in order to attack is simultaneously was shortsighted. His inability to wield his weapon effectively spelled his defeat."

"Sure, but that's why he exploded the sword right? It was an innovative strategy."

Currently, Saber and Berserker helped him in weapons training, Kuzuki trained his barehanded combat fundamentals and also gave some tips to condition his body further, while Caster managed his training as a magus.

The two had split his weapons training into two parts, purely weapons without magecraft and a free-for-all using everything he'd learnt. They further divided weapons training into testing different types of weaponry, to see which type could suit him, as well as taking turns engaging him in single combat or as a duo.

Normally it would be impossible to improve his combat skills in such a short window of time, but the extraordinarily high level of training he went through was like going through life and death battles back to back. Add that to his latest experiences in the war, and it was possible that he might even be able to survive a Servant in actual combat for perhaps three seconds, maybe even five. As a sidenote, in the first few spars with Berserker, she had been unable to properly control her strength and almost killed him several times. After a few pointers from Saber, she was now able to only beat him halfway to death.

Illya sighed as she laid Shirous head on her lap, her white filaments lacing through his body and fixing his injuries. It wasn't necessary to give him a lap pillow, but she wanted to do it anyways.

Looking down at the the ugly bruise swelling on his cheek, tenderly stroked it with with tender hands.

Stupid onii-chan…

When she'd tried to stop him after seeing how wrecked he was after just one match, he just stared at her and said.

"I need to be able to protect you."

After that, she'd been unable to say anything else.

Personally though, she felt his time would be better spent focusing more on his magecraft, especially considering it was more likely he was going to be facing against Masters rather than Servants. It was also true that he'd receive a greater return if he used the short amount of time he had and invested in training magecraft. Unlike his combat skills, magecraft could also be used to support his Servant, while his physical training would mostly just benefit himself. His magecraft would also improve much faster, as his body would need time and repetition to ingrain the movements into his reflexes. In fact, his skill in reinforcement magecraft had improved by leaps and bounds in the space of a few hours.

"Uuhh."

On her lap, Shirou's eyes fluttered open.

"How long did I last this time?"

"Twenty eight seconds and thirty two millisecond."

"Didn't beat my best, looks like I need to improve. Well, thanks for healing me."

Getting up, he headed over to Saber, Berserker and Caster to get their feedback and discuss how he could grow further.

After that, he warmed up for a bit and then started the next round. This cycle continued until lunchtime, at which the considerably exhausted Shirou and the two Servants in perfect condition went to the banquet hall to destroy the rows and rows of dishes laid out, fresh from the kitchen. The homunculi staff in charge of the mansion were already beginning to ship supplies from outside since they had utterly depleted their stock of food.

After eating, Kuzuki was his next tutor. With him, it was more about learning foundational techniques for moving, breathing and controlling his body in general. It was a lot less physically demanding than his combat training, but required much more concentration and self-awareness. Surprisingly, he also learnt a lot about the human body from the stoic teacher, and he passed on a lot of first-aid knowledge, along with the ability to triage himself. From dislocated joints to concussions, he learned everything that he could about the almost infinite variety of injuries that the body could suffer, and how to mitigate the damage as best as he could. They also did some bare-hand sparring, but it was mostly just light training teaching Shirou how to take hits and disperse blows. Kuzuki had tried to teach him his style, but Shirou simply wasn't compatible with it.

Of course, as his teacher Kuzuki also insisted that they do schoolwork, just to maintain his academic progress.

At night, his training with Caster pushed the limits of his body and mind, Circuits straining as he pushed his exhaustion to the side to channel magical energy through them. He looked like he was running a fever, rivulets of sweats dripping off his chin into the growing puddle at his feet, while his exposed skin was suffused with an angry red. In his hands, the outline of a long sword appeared, sparks of light surrounding it.

Caster looked on as he continued projecting the blade, her eyes gauging his condition as her other senses tracked the progress he made with the spell. In her right hand, she held an alabaster white hilt that was stabbed into the ground, connected to a simple ritual circle drawn with chalk surrounding Shirou.

As his conduits of energy flared, the outline grew more and more pronounced. The once transparent container started filling in, growing solid as light failed to penetrate the surface. In an instant, heaviness settled in place. Mass was realized as gravity took control of on object that sprang out of thin air, and air was ejected out of the occupied space in a soft puff of air that tickled his chest. Particles of dust swayed out of the way, and light reflected of the newly created blade, producing an irresistible shimmer like the surface of a bubble. However, this illusion couldn't be popped so easily.

Cutting of the flow of energy to the circle, she stood up and motioned for Shirou to do the same.

"Lets test it out."

Holding the sword in his hands, he examined it closely to see if it matched with his traced image.

It was a little shorter than the shinai he'd used this morning, and was shaped like a cone, with no edges on the sides, appearing to specialize in thrusting. However, the most important characteristic was that it was completely hollow. From the hilt to the very tip of the blade, there was a tube running through that made it possible to drop a pebble straight through the entire body of the sword. As a result, the hilt was rounded like a shinais, but much wider than one. There was a circular guard, but it was shot through various strangely shaped holes, though the edge was intact. The material however, was a dead giveaway to the nature of the sword. No metal glimmered like glitterdust under the light.

Wielding the sword with one hand, he faced the wall and made a simple downward slash at a wooden dummy.

In return, a sharp musical note came forth, ringing in his ears as clearly as morning dew. Enraptured by the sound, he made another blow, this time aiming to hit with the middle portion of the sword, and a new sound rang out. This time, it was considerably deeper, like the song of whales in the deep abyss.

Digging into the memories of the previous wielders that he'd accessed while tracing the weapons history, he started moving faster and faster, striking the wooden dummy in a complex rhythm that melted the sounds together. The harmony built up, each section weaving seamlessly into one another as the vibration of the sword increased in scale, the room they were in reaching it's capacity for volume as sound bounced ceaselessly form one wall to another. For Shirou, he was lost in the bliss of the music, a surge of strength welling up from his core as the melody awakened an urge to experience the symphony in full. His body moved with surety into positions that he had never done for, a sword dance to complement the choir echoing in his ears.

He didn't realize it, but his body automatically moved to block Casters staff as it came down on his head, and the moment the two collided all the noise strangling his mind stopped. He fell to his knees, shivering as saliva dripped out of his mouth while he panted.

"Weapons crafted by man but influenced by the fae are dangerous, so to use them you'll have to be able to resist the call of their magic. As for fae made weapons, don't even think about tracing them."

Looking at the blade in his hands, she gently took it from him and then caught his head as he collapsed to the ground. Lowering his head to the floor, she continued her lecture.

"You already know the abilities far better than I can explain, but remember that it isn't always possible to apply the abilities and techniques in actual battle. Your judgment and decision making ability is what ties them all together, and you need to know what tools to use in which situations."

Turning the sword over in her hands, she tapped the blade.

"For this one, it should only be used in very specific situations, understand?"

On the floor, Shirou could only manage a grunt.

"Oh, I should probably demonstrate it's other functions since you can't do it properly yet."

Raising the tip of the blade to her mouth, she blew into it.

A pure whistle swept across the room.

Immediately, Shirou felt that he was able to sit up. His fatigue was washed away, and his mind became alert.

"It has a lot of uses, but you'll really have to try doing the techniques yourself to get the hang of it."

"Got it."

Dismissing the traced sword, the two went back to the chalk circle and sat on the floor.

"That should be a good enough boost to your armory. I should remind you again, it would be far better for you to use non-magical blades as weaponry, to be more cost-effective. Your gas tank as a magus is lacking, and it also isn't strictly necessary to summon magical weapons to deal with a magical attack. For example, the Gandr spell that Miss Tohsaka used could be blocked by projecting a sufficiently thick blade in its path. You could cut down the cost even further by deflecting it's path instead of outright blocking, lowering the requirements on the sword."

Shirou nodded.

"Do you think my offensive options are enough?"

"Well, you don't have as many tricks as a magus would, but it'll have to do for now. In combat, it should be enough."

Magi were flexible in that they could achieve different results with their spells with uses outside of combat, and their Thaumaturgical Foundation could broaden their variety to be do anything from making pizza to blowing up people with air. Unfortunately for Shirou, he was specialized in fighting with his magecraft, but it was also a boon that meant all his abilities could be easily applied to combat.

"That being said, I think you need a trump card, something that can turn the tables when you're in a dire situation. As Berserker would say, a technique which goes 'DOKKAN' that can blast through anything."

Smirking with Shirou, she continued.

"This is why I'm showing you this."

Reaching behind her back, she lifted the bundle tightly wrapped in white cloth and gave it to Shirou. As he moved to unwrap the bindings, she caught his hand.

"If you trace it, there might be some things you'll see that could…confuse you. You might also see someone who looks every similar to me. But don't let it bother you. After all, you already have enough burdens to bear. So please, don't worry about me."

She smiled at him, a tinge of loneliness escaping from the corner of her mouth. In the face of her smile, all he could was nod his head.

Silently, she watched as Shirou unwrapped it and laid eyes on the magnum opus of ▇▇▇▇▇▇.

"What was that?"

Illya tilted her head, looking around trying to find the source of the noise.

"It's probably Shirou. I guess it's the training he's going through."

"Please do not worry young Illya. If anything happens to him, I will feel it through our connection."

Reassuring Illya, the three of them continued gaming in front of a television as they snacked from a large bowl of popcorn.

That night, Shirou crawled on his bed with shaky legs, the visions of earlier still haunting him. Slowly, he let himself collapse and gradually sink into the mattress, eyes staring right at the ceiling above him.

Abruptly, someone knocked on the door.

"Onii-chan?"

"I-Illya?"

The door creaked open, and the girl poked her head through.

"Can I sleep with you tonight? It's a little cold in my bed when I sleep alone."

"Sure, come here."

Scooting over, he patted the bed beside him.

Crawling onto the bed, she headed straight for the spot next to him and nestled close to his body.

"Ahhh, you're so warm onii-chan."

Hugging his arm, and she pressed her head against his shoulder. A memory rose the surface, a scene of a man with rough stubble and spiky hair hugging her on a large bed, while a woman with long white hair and features just like her own snuggled up to her on the other side, the two of them sandwiching her with their warmth.

Looking down, Shirou smiled at her and wrapped an arm around her. She would no longer have to be alone.

"Goodnight Shirou."

"Goodnight Illya."

Near the door, Leysritt flicked off the light switch and silently closed the door.