Oof. Sorry folks. I'm a bit late with my update today, so here's a bit of a longer chapter as an apology.

I had a surprise pop quiz in my Biology class today…

I failed T-T…

And by failed, I mean I got around 65%, which is really fucking bad…

…

I think I should start studying more…

This might be a sign from God to study more…

…

Nah~

Fuck that, I'll just do as I please!

If I fail, I'll fail!

I'll leave regretting things to the future me, but for now…

ENJOY THE STORY THAT I SLAVED OVER FOR THE PAST TWO DAYS!

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In the stillness of the night, as Emiya sat by the flickering campfire, the crackling flames drew shadows across his worn face. The heat warmed his skin, but the chill of his memories ran deeper. He had become accustomed to solitude, yet the weight of his past never fully faded.

He closed his eyes, letting the dance of the flames transport him back to a time that felt like a lifetime ago—a world where hope had flickered like a candle in the wind, only to be snuffed out by the harsh reality of his choices.

The City of Fuyuki: a place he had once called home. He remembered the chaos, the air thick with the scent of smoke and blood, the screams of those who had not escaped. He had been just a child then, barely old enough to understand the world around him. All he had known was warmth, laughter, and the gentle caress of a mother's hand. But the warmth turned to coldness, laughter to silence, and the hand that once cradled him vanished, replaced by the unforgiving grasp of fate.

The Fire came swiftly, a wrathful beast that consumed everything in its path. He could still hear the roar, the crackling wood, and the terrified cries that echoed in the night. He had stood frozen, paralyzed by confusion and fear, as flames licked at the sky, illuminating the horror unfolding before him. He had reached out, desperate to save his family, but he was just a child—small, powerless, and too late.

Emiya's mind wandered to the figure of his father, a silhouette against the blaze, valiantly trying to rescue what remained of their home. He had rushed towards him, but a sudden explosion had thrown him back, the world spinning, colours merging into a nightmare. And then, silence.

Alone, he had stumbled through the ashes of his past, the reality of his loss wrapping around him like a shroud. It wasn't just his family he mourned; it was the life he had known, the innocence that had been stripped away in an instant. He remembered the faces of neighbours, strangers, and friends, all swallowed by the merciless inferno.

In the aftermath, when the dust settled and the embers turned cold, he had made a promise to himself. He would not allow the same tragedy to befall others. The flames had taken everything from him, and he vowed to wield that pain as a blade, to fight against the darkness that loomed over the world.

But promises come at a price. In his quest for redemption, he had forged a path of blood and sorrow, becoming the hero he believed others needed, even as the weight of his choices pressed down on him like a leaden cloak. The weight of those he had failed.

The Holy Grail War. Emiya remembered the battles, the unending cycle of conflict, and the faces of those he could not save. Each life he had fought for had left a scar on his soul, a haunting reminder of the fragility of existence. In seeking to save others, he had lost himself. He had become a weapon, a tool of fate, and every strike he dealt was a step further from the boy he once was.

Regret seeped into every fibre of his being. Each choice had led him further into the abyss, where shadows whispered of his failures. He had become the guardian of the fallen, the protector of dreams long extinguished. And yet, no matter how hard he fought, he could not extinguish the fire that raged within him—a fire born of loss, of pain, and the unyielding guilt that had become his constant companion.

As he sat in the darkness, the flames casting eerie shadows, Emiya opened his eyes. The warmth of the fire was a stark contrast to the coldness in his heart. He had travelled far from the ruins of his past, yet he remained tethered to it, forever haunted by the choices he had made and the lives he had touched. In his quest for redemption, he realised that some scars never heal, and some fires could never truly go out.

"The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."

- Nelson Mandela.

Chapter 4: Echoes of Fire and Steel - The Dragon's Trust

The fire crackled in the clearing, sending up small sparks as the massive demonic deer roasted over the flames. Its sheer size was a testament to the fierceness of Emiya's hunt, but the aroma it gave off was even more impressive, blending with the scent of fresh herbs he'd gathered from the forest. The air was rich with the smell of meat, seasoned perfectly with salt he had carefully scraped from the crystalline deposits near the nymph lake.

Seated on a large boulder, a blue-haired woman, seemingly in her mid-twenties but carrying an aura of untold power, moaned with utter satisfaction. Her violet eyes glimmered in the firelight as she tore into the roasted deer with unrestrained hunger, her dragon-like appetite evident in the way she devoured the food before her. Emiya watched her with quiet composure, kneeling by the fire as he turned the spit, carefully ensuring the meat cooked evenly.

The woman, Tiamat, took another massive bite, her expression one of pure bliss. "I've eaten my fill of divine delicacies over the centuries," she muttered between mouthfuls, "but this…" She paused, savouring the taste. "This is the best thing I've ever eaten in my life." She ate with the ferocity of a being who had long forgotten what restraint meant. Each bite was savage, her hands moving quickly to snatch up more meat as soon as her mouth was clear. The contrast between her regal bearing and the primal way she devoured the meal was jarring, yet Emiya remained unfazed, his grey eyes dull and distant as he turned the skewers over the fire, ensuring the massive cuts of meat cooked evenly.

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, his hands methodically working as he adjusted the flames and the spit's angle.

She glanced at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I should make you my personal chef. It's been too long since anyone's prepared something this good."

He smirked slightly. "Which is what you've been saying for the past few days now." He continued on the task at hand.

The crackling fire and the soft rustle of the forest around them filled the silence, but the tension between them hadn't completely dissipated. The night before, they had locked eyes across the clearing, and in that moment, something had shifted. There was no immediate hostility, yet Emiya had sensed she was in pain, her presence too powerful to ignore.

Emiya's hands moved with practiced ease as he skewered the massive haunch of demonic deer, the crackling fire casting flickering shadows across his stoic face. The meat sizzled and popped, the rich scent of cooked flesh filling the air. Nearby, the blue-haired woman moaned softly, her lips parting as she tore into another piece of roasted venison with relentless abandon, her sharp teeth flashing in the firelight. Her azure hair shimmered, wild and untamed, as her ravenous hunger took precedence over any sense of decorum.

"More," she grunted between bites, her voice low, yet filled with a demanding edge. It wasn't a request, more of an expectation. Her hunger seemed unending, her dragon nature coming through in every ravenous movement.

Emiya complied without a word, slicing more of the deer's flank with precision, watching as the fat dripped into the flames, sending up brief bursts of smoke. The task was simple enough, though surreal in nature. He had faced enemies and challenges far beyond his comprehension, but cooking for a Dragon King was certainly a new one.

As he handed over the fresh meat, his thoughts drifted back to how he had ended up here, tending a fire and feeding a dragon that could likely consume the entire forest if she wanted.

Flashback - The Night Before

The memory was still fresh in his mind.

Emiya had first encountered her in the depths of a shadowed cave, concealed by thick vines and the dense foliage of the Familiar Forest. As he stoked the small campfire to life that night, his gaze had instinctively wandered to the mouth of the cave. There, two dark blue, slitted eyes stared back at him, their reptilian gleam filled with both curiosity and latent danger.

He didn't move, only watching, his circuits ready to flare into action should the need arise. But the creature did nothing, simply watching from the darkness. The next morning, as he approached the cave, he found the source of those eyes—a massive, serpentine form coiled within the stone recesses. A dragon.

The sheer size of it was overwhelming, its azure scales glinting faintly in the dappled morning light that filtered through the forest canopy. It was wounded, the shimmering blue of its scales marred by deep cuts and gashes that hadn't healed. Emiya's instincts immediately told him this wasn't an ordinary encounter. The injuries were serious, and despite the dragon's immense power, they hadn't healed naturally.

Emiya had considered turning back—he wasn't one to intervene in situations that didn't directly concern him—but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the way the creature's gaze had softened ever so slightly when their eyes met again that morning, a silent plea hidden behind the proud exterior. He could sense its exhaustion, the way it barely held herself together, despite its size and might.

It had been a few days since he encountered those piercing, draconic eyes staring at him from within the cave. He had remained on high alert that night, waiting for whatever lurked in the shadows to make its move. The tension had been thick, yet nothing had happened. He had held his ground, watching, waiting… and nothing.

The next morning, as the first rays of dawn had broken through the treetops, he had cautiously approached the cave, his circuits humming faintly as he prepared to defend himself against whatever beast awaited him. Yet, instead of the injured dragon he had seen the night before, he had found her—a woman, sprawled on the cold stone floor, covered in a layer of dust and old rags, her blue hair wild and tangled. She had looked fragile, worn, and impossibly tired, her once mighty presence reduced to something pitiful.

At first, he had thought her an illusion, a trick of the forest or some powerful magic designed to lure him in. But when her eyes opened, and those same dark blue, slitted pupils had locked onto his, he knew. This was no mere illusion. This was something far more dangerous.

"You," she had rasped, her voice dry and cracked. "You reek of… Gaia."

Emiya had remained silent, assessing the situation, weighing his options. His instinct had told him to retreat, to leave her there and continue on his journey through the forest. But something had held him back—perhaps it was curiosity, or perhaps it was the subtle connection he had felt with the forest, as if Gaia's own will had guided him to her. Whatever it was, he had approached her, his hand ready to summon a weapon at a moment's notice.

The woman had managed to sit up, though it had taken great effort. Her body had been weak, starved even, and her once regal demeanour had been buried beneath layers of exhaustion. But even in that state, there had been an unmistakable aura of power around her, one that demanded respect.

"You… bear the scent of the Earth Mother," she had murmured, her eyes narrowing as if trying to piece together something long forgotten. "Why?"

Emiya hadn't had an answer for her, but the moment had passed quickly. Her weakness had been too great, and she had collapsed soon after, leaving him with little choice but to help her.

He had approached cautiously, unsure of her intentions, but as she struggled to stand, her strength faltering, he couldn't ignore it any longer. Without a word, he knelt beside her, assessing the severity of her wounds. He had seen injuries like these before—deep, jagged slashes that were the mark of a violent battle. Whoever had done this was no ordinary enemy. His hand moved to his side, pulling out some makeshift bandages he had on hand.

"Stay away from me," she had murmured, her voice low and filled with both authority and pain. But her body betrayed her words, too weak to resist as Emiya began treating her injuries with the limited supplies he had.

"Those cuts are deep," he said evenly, inspecting the wounds as he applied pressure to slow the bleeding. "If you stay like this, you won't last long."

Her violet eyes narrowed, though she remained silent, watching him with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity as he worked. He was methodical, his hands steady as he tended to her wounds, binding them with strips of cloth torn from his own sleeve.

Her eyes opened again, and she tensed as he moved closer, but her injuries kept her from pushing him away. "Why…?"

"Because you need it," he said simply, beginning to tend to her wounds. His hands were precise, methodical, as he cleaned and bandaged the worst of her injuries. She flinched when he applied pressure, but she didn't stop him.

For a while, there was only the sound of his movements as he worked in silence. The injuries were severe, and while they would eventually heal on their own given her draconic nature, they would take time—time that could be cut significantly shorter with proper care.

"You… don't know me," She murmured after a long silence, her voice soft. "Why bother?"

Emiya met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "I don't need to know you to help." He kept his gaze. "I don't leave people to die." His tone was calm, composed, as though he were talking about something far more mundane than tending to a wounded dragon-turned-woman in the middle of an unfamiliar forest.

She fell silent at that, her eyes closing once more, though this time it seemed less out of resignation and more… acceptance.

Once he finished tending to her, Emiya stood, his sharp senses turning back to the forest. She would need food—real food, not whatever wild creatures she could scrounge in her current state. He glanced at the cave entrance before stepping outside, letting her rest.

He had a hunt to prepare for.

The forest was alive with the sounds of nature as Emiya moved swiftly and silently through the undergrowth. His Reinforcement had returned, allowing his body to move with the agility and strength he had been missing since his arrival in this world. His mind sharpened, focused on the task ahead—finding food for the wounded dragon.

Emiya had been moving through the underbrush, his steps light and deliberate as he tracked his prey. He had spotted the massive, demonic deer earlier in the day—a creature of monstrous size, its twisted horns and crimson eyes marking it as a beast of the underworld.

Despite their size, the creatures moved with surprising agility, weaving through the dense forest as if they were part of the shadows. But Emiya was patient, his experience as a hunter honed through countless battles. He followed the horde of beasts' trail for hours, keeping a safe distance and ensuring that his presence remained undetected.

He ventured deeper into the heart of the Familiar Forest, where the creatures were more powerful, more dangerous. The scent of demonic beasts lingered in the air, and soon enough, he found his prey.

Massive, elephant-sized deer-like creatures roamed the dense thickets, their crimson eyes scanning the surroundings for threats. They moved in groups, but one had wandered too far from the others, making it the perfect target. Emiya crouched low, his body coiled with tension as he prepared for the strike.

He tracked the beast through the dense foliage, his eyes sharp as he navigated the forest's shifting shadows. When the moment finally came, he acted with precision. Drawing the bow he had crafted earlier to conserve his prana while it recovered, he notched an arrow—a crude yet effective weapon made from branches and sharpened stone.

He waited, hidden behind a thick tree as the creature grazed on the other side of the clearing. It was massive, its muscles rippling beneath its dark hide, but its guard was down, unaware of the danger lurking nearby. Emiya's eyes narrowed as he exhaled slowly, steadying his aim. Then, with a swift release, the arrow flew through the air, piercing the beast's side.

The demonic deer let out a guttural roar, its body convulsing as it thrashed against the pain. Emiya was already moving, darting through the underbrush to avoid the beast's wild swings. With another precise shot, he struck again, the arrows finding their mark. The creature faltered, its movements slowing as blood spilled from its wounds.

When it finally collapsed, Emiya approached cautiously, ensuring the beast was dead before retrieving his arrows. He stood over the massive carcass for a moment, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths. The hunt had been successful, but there was no satisfaction in it—only the efficiency of a task completed.

Emiya wasted no time, moving to clean and prepare the carcass for transport.

While lugging it back to his temporary camp, his sharp eyes scanned the surrounding flora, noticing several useful herbs that would be useful for medicine and recovery, as well as a few to enhance the flavour of the meat.

He paused at a stream, kneeling to gather some herbs from the water's edge. Their pungent, earthy scent filled his nostrils, and he carefully tucked them into a pouch at his side. Nearby, a shimmer in the air caught his attention—crystalline formations at the edge of a lake, glowing softly under the moonlight. Emiya knelt by the shore, examining the salt crystals that glittered like stars in the water. The nymphs that lived there had gifted him with a small pouch of the rare seasoning, though he suspected it was more out of curiosity than generosity.

Once his haul was complete, Emiya made his way back to the cave.

By the time Emiya returned, the scent of roasting meat filled the air. He had managed to start a fire outside the cave, using the rune of 'kaunuz' to ignite the flames. The demonic deer sizzled over the fire, its juices dripping into the flames as Emiya carefully seasoned the meat with the herbs and crystals he had gathered.

The now human dragon stirred, her eyes opening slowly as the smell of cooking meat reached her. Despite her weakened state, there was a spark of interest in her gaze as she watched him work.

When the meat was finally ready, Emiya cut off a large portion and brought it to her. "Eat," he said simply, holding the food out to her.

She hesitated for only a moment before taking the offering. As soon as she bit into the tender, perfectly seasoned meat, her eyes widened. She chewed slowly at first, savouring the flavour before her hunger took over, and she began eating with relentless abandon.

"This…" she muttered between bites, her voice filled with surprise. "This is the best thing I've ever eaten."

Emiya raised an eyebrow but didn't respond. He merely continued roasting more of the demonic deer, making sure there was enough to satisfy the dragon's appetite.

She glanced at him as she devoured the food, a slight grin forming on her lips. "You… you should become my personal chef," she said, half-joking, though there was a hint of seriousness in her tone.

Emiya didn't react, simply continuing his task, though there was a subtle shift in the air between them. The distance that had existed before was starting to close. Her guarded nature had softened, if only slightly.

Days passed in a similar fashion. Each morning, Emiya would check on her injuries, making sure they were healing properly, and each evening, he would hunt, returning with more demonic creatures to feed her. Over time, the tension between them eased, and while she still kept her distance emotionally, there was a growing sense of trust.

She remained silent about the battle that had injured her, but Emiya could see the toll it had taken. Whoever or whatever had attacked her had left her vulnerable, and though she was a dragon, her recovery would take time.

Emiya, for his part, didn't pry. He simply did what needed to be done, tending to her wounds, hunting for her, and providing her with food that she had begrudgingly admitted was better than anything she had ever tasted.

As the days wore on, her wounds began to heal, and her strength slowly returned. But even as her body mended, there was an unspoken understanding between them.

Present

"You know," Tiamat said, swallowing another mouthful, "if you keep cooking like this, I might just have to keep you around."

Emiya glanced at her, his expression as stoic as ever, but there was a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "I don't think you could afford me," he replied, turning another piece of meat over the fire.

Tiamat chuckled, a rare sound that felt almost foreign to her. The dragon within her stirred, curious about this human who had tended to her wounds and fed her with such care. There was something about him—something strong, unyielding, yet calm and composed.

Her gaze lingered on him as she tore off another chunk of meat, chewing slowly, her eyes filled with something close to admiration, though she would never admit it out loud. "You're different," she said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Emiya glanced at her, but didn't respond immediately.

"You don't seem to know who I am," she continued, her tone probing but not hostile.

"No," Emiya replied, shaking his head slightly. "I don't."

A slow, almost teasing smile spread across her lips as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I am Tiamat, one of the Five Dragon Kings." She paused, watching for his reaction, but Emiya's expression remained unchanged, as stoic as ever.

Tiamat tilted her head, studying him for a moment before speaking again. "You're not afraid."

"There's no reason to be," he replied simply, his voice calm as he met her gaze directly. "If you were going to kill me, you would have done so already."

She laughed, a soft, almost melodic sound that echoed through the clearing. "Perhaps," she said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Maybe you're more interesting than I thought."

As the night deepened, the fire's light flickered across both of them, casting long shadows in the quiet clearing. Emiya returned to tending the fire, his thoughts turning to the path ahead, while Tiamat, one of the Five Dragon Kings—though unofficial by the standards of this world—watched him in silence, and slight contentment.

…

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"Hm… *chuckle* good old Emiya. He never did realise how strong his 'Harem Protagonist EX' was… Too bad he never acted out on it…"

I know, right? It's too bad….

LOOK AT HOW MANY GIRLS HE COULD HAVE HAD! 0w0

Chuckle* "While it is indeed unfortunate, perhaps I should be grateful that he only has feelings for my student…"

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"Hm… Perhaps I should… have a word with him first…"

Whoa. Hey, um, Zelretch, your voice went all weird for a second.

And why are your eyes glowing? O_O

"Hahaha… Don't worry, dear Author~ I just want to… have a little… CHAT… with our friend Emiya…"

…

(Awkwardly shuffled backward, chuckling nervously)

Ha. Ha. Yeah, um, so I'm, like, gonna just go now, okay?

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Crimson eyes turn, and stare at the Author, and the Author stares back.

The world trembles.

They look at you.

Zelretch is looking at you.

I am looking at you.

And you are forced to look back.

.

.

Heh. Later, nerds~