In the span of three weeks, Shirou could say without a doubt, that despite the seemingly primitive era that the elves lived in, they were much more than that. For one, they had a school that taught not just the youngest of the village, but anyone who wanted to learn.

From attending it just a few times, he could say that it was the equivalent to a high school, something that he hadn't expected. The elves had an understanding of algebra, studied their recorded history, practiced their philosophy, and much more.

Apparently, even to elves, such a concept of a school was new to them, but one that they had to adapt to in order to survive.

Moreover, he had taken to helping out wherever he could. Cooking, for one, with all the new ingredients he could find was a soothing pastime. And, after the first time he did it, the villagers appreciated that, going by how they'd cheer whenever he did.

He had also finished his map of the area. That was yet another thing the elves excelled at: cartography. With the aid of their Spirits, the elves had collections of various maps of the area around them, updated almost yearly. Getting a copy was the most difficult part of it, since as it turned out, the translation spell they used didn't cover written works.

Still, he'd succeeded in doing so.

The Grand Elder had helped him tremendously in that regard, as she had taken to teaching him their language. Apart from the recent events with the Empire, she didn't have a lot to do, it seemed. He was thankfully a fast learner, and had gotten it down in less than a week.

Adrianne had looked fairly annoyed at that. Shirou could relate - boredom was the enemy, after all, and without an outlet, all Adrianne could really do was sit on the throne the entire day.

Shirou decided then that he'd begin teaching them a bit of his world, the world beyond the Gate as the elves said. He'd taught them what he knew of the geography, the people, and whatever else they asked him. It all barely scratched the surface, he wasn't the best teacher for that sort of thing, but he could see their interest light up whenever he did answer.

All in all, it was a good three weeks.

And yet, the guilt tore at him when he knew that he did all that to stall out his report as long as possible.

As one of the tasks that Zelretch implicitly gave him, Shirou needed to report his findings to the Wizard Marshall. A report that was overdue at this point, but one that the Enforcer intended to drag out as long as possible.

The elves didn't deserve any of what could happen to them.

Despite the shocking amount of bloodthirstiness that they'd displayed when they heard of the Empire's retreat, the elves were a fairly peaceful bunch. They had to be, with their population so low, any significant military force would body them immediately. As such, lying low was their best course of action.

The few times that they did fight, was because it was a situation that required it.

And if the Clock Tower ever heard of them, Shirou was almost certain it would be the last time he'd ever hear from the elves, period.

"Lord Emiya?" A voice sounded from outside. Shirou eagerly put down his pen, the paper in front of him forgotten. He'd do the report later, maybe.

"Miss Tuka? Come in, the door's unlocked." As soon as he said that, said door opened to reveal a smiling blonde, a basket of several fruits and vegetables in her hand, "And I keep telling you all to just call me Shirou, or even just Emiya. I'm not a Lord."

It was true. He'd gotten tired of the villagers calling him by the various titles that he'd been unceremoniously given that he'd asked Adrianne to announce to the village that he'd prefer to be called by his actual name.

She did so, but none of the elves listened.

Apparently, the elves had too much respect for him for them to call him otherwise.

And that included the one in front of him.

"It's not appropriate, Lord Emiya." The elf shook her head, her eyes holding a bit of mischief. She knew what she was doing, "At any rate, here are the ingredients you requested." She motioned to the basket in her hands.

Shirou rolled his eyes at her response, before nodding towards the table, "Put it down over here, I'll get to them after my morning run."

She did so, before turning to Shirou quizzically, "I must ask, Lord Emiya," His eye twitched at her smile, "Do you ever sleep? I always find you awake before everyone else." It was a valid question.

After all, it was four in the morning.

"It's fine," Shirou shrugged as he headed out the guest home, "I don't need as much sleep in the first place."

"You didn't answer the question at all!" Tuka frowned at him. He chuckled at her annoyance as she followed him out.

Tuka had finally relaxed around him, despite the constant mention of his titles. It was inevitable, as she'd been assigned by Adrianne as his guide/shadow for the entirety of his stay. Anyone else would've been insulted that someone like Tuka, who looked like she couldn't harm a fly, was assigned as their guard.

They would've been surprised then, to find out that Tuka wasn't just dangerous. She was perhaps the most proficient Spirit Magic user in the entire village.

The woman was a genius in that regard. Any Spirit spell that she wanted to cast, she could do so in a heartbeat. If she didn't know the spell at first, just cast it once, and she'd be able to recreate it near perfectly.

Tuka was therefore the perfect person to stand by Shirou, just in case he did in fact betray the elves' trust.

Shirou probably would never have known any of that, had he not been able to Trace Tuka's bow the one time he saw her use it.

Adrianne, trusting as she initially seemed to be, was as shrewd as any Clock Tower Lord.

Shirou started off at a light pace, enjoying the cool air around him. Beside him, Tuka jogged as she kept pace. When he had started his laps around the village, Tuka had been skeptical about taking part in it. Elves, by their biology and diet, were naturally fit. She didn't see the need to take part in a decidedly human activity such as exercise.

He had gotten through to her after an entire week of waking up before dawn, and leaving her to wander around like a headless chicken trying to find her charge.

It didn't mean that she had to like it though.

"I," Tuka was already on her back by the fifth lap, "still don't know how, you can, hah, keep doing this." She glared weakly at Shirou, who looked completely fine. Said man shrugged in response. This wasn't the best he could do, after all. As an Enforcer, he'd had to do quite a bit of running, either after a mark, or running away to safety.

A few laps around the village perimeter wasn't comparable to running through the entirety of the Black Forest to escape a Dead Apostle, after all.

"You'll build up stamina the more you do it." He told her, holding out a hand to help her up. She took it, still lightly glaring at him all the while. He rolled his eyes at the elf, "Come on, I'm making breakfast for everyone."

He would've continued his run on any other day, but he wanted to experiment a bit with the ingredients he had. Sure, he could continue to make some local cuisine, but he wanted to make something at least new for the hospitality the elves had given him.

After quickly stopping by the guest house to grab the ingredients, they made their way to the communal kitchen. Another surprise was that the elves even had a communal kitchen.

Most medieval societies still had people farm and eat their own food. It was basic survival at its core. You didn't have nearly enough to feed everyone, so you had to feed yourself first and foremost. Here though, the village's population was small enough, and their food production plenty enough that everyone could have their fill.

It was a sight that Shirou smiled at every time he thought of it.

A world where no one would be hungry was a world that he would admire.

As always, he was the first one in the kitchens. When he'd first made the village meal, it was dinner, and around three others were already in the preparation stage. They hadn't trusted his skills at first, but after their first bite, they had given him near complete access to their hallowed ground and their recipes, all the while asking for recommendations on how to improve them.

If there was one thing he was proud of, it was his cooking skills. It brought on a wave of foreign satisfaction when those skills were acknowledged by people from another world.

As he started making what would be a variant of miso soup with the local ingredients however, his nose twitched. He could smell the scent of sulfur in the air, but a quick glance towards Tuka showed that she had stopped whatever she was doing to look around warily.

The scent was followed by a bellowing roar.

"Lord Emiya," Tuka's countenance was firm, as she cautiously drew her bow from her side. In the rest of the village, where he'd normally hear the hustle and bustle of the early morning risers, there was an eerie silence.

Shirou tensed, as a shadow cast over them.

A red dragon. Even from this distance, Shirou could make out the hardened scales that made up the dragon's body. He could see the beginnings of a breath of flame coming from its mouth.

For a moment, Shirou readied to Trace a Noble Phantasm to wipe the dragon clear from the sky. Around him, in the corner of his eyes, he could see various people preparing their own weapons as they peeked out their homes - bows mostly, though an odd sword here or there.

The shadow quickly left.

"It's gone." A sigh of relief from the two of them. The sentiment was echoed throughout the village as the tense atmosphere lightened up.

This had not been the only time that the dragon had come by to look around. And it likely wouldn't be the last. Thankfully, the Bounded Field did its job.

Said Bounded Field was a marvel even to Shirou. For example, a village full of magic/magecraft users such as this should have been a homing beacon for any mana sensitive individual. Even himself, with his admittedly bloodhound-esque mana detecting nose should have picked up on the village's location when Marceau had been leading him all that time ago.

Instead, he hadn't even known there was a village until he was staring right in front of it.

To put it simply, the Bounded Field, or Magic Barrier, blocked the detection of mana from the outside. You couldn't sense anything until you yourself were inside of it. A brilliant piece of magecraft that Shirou wanted to learn to use for himself, if not to develop countermeasures for it.

Such a thing would be infinitely useful for any rogue magi that he may come across.

Regardless, there was one caveat, that acted both as a boon, and a severe penalty. You could still be seen. It was why the homes of the villagers were designed as such, a camouflage that would reduce the risk of them being seen in the air.

Initially, both the Barrier and the camouflage were used to defend against possible Imperial aerial scouts and mage sensors, but now that the dragon had come out from its home in the mountains, it had served a much more important role.

Hiding from an extremely hostile animal, one that had an innate resistance to Spirit Magic.

When Shirou had first seen the dragon for himself, he knew that only pure, physical force would be able to kill it. The scales that the dragon had reeked so much of its own mana that it created a variable field around it, destroying any spells that it touched.

Normally, it could be assumed that even his blades would break upon getting near it. His mundane weapons, strong as they were, were still composed of mana after all. Noble Phantasms, however, were another matter entirely, especially those with anti-dragon capabilities. Even if the weapons were to shatter upon impact, he only needed one good shot to take it down.

Or so he hoped.

He wasn't entirely fond of the idea of hunkering down like this. Had it been up to him, he'd have the village relocate to somewhere safer. To his dismay, the elves didn't have anywhere else. With the persecution of the Empire, they'd be hunted down should they decide to leave Coan Forest.

So, they did the only thing they could do, wait and hope.

Shirou only wishes that-

"DRAGON!"

A wave of intense flames blanketed the sky above them, the secondary Magic Barrier, the one that actively protected against attacks sputtering to life.

The dragon hadn't left. Shirou realized with dread. It had just been looking for a better angle.

The people that had previously relaxed snapped to attention, both Tuka and Shirou included. Tuka rushed with her bow, towards a large group of elven archers that were preparing to climb the trees for a better vantage point. Shirou cursed, "Don't!" He barreled through the panicking crowd, even as the young were ushered into quickly created stone bunkers.

"You'll get yourselves killed like that!" He tried to shout over the roars of the dragon, but it was no use. He watched helplessly as a farmer, one with a wife and a child, was roasted as he tried to shoot the dragon.

From inside his Blade Works, a sword screamed at him. Innocents were dying by the hand of a dragon. A dragon that it could kill. A dragon that would be dead, if he used it.

Shirou gladly accepted.

"Trace, set." Shirou's grim proclamation went unheard through the chaos, but the sudden snapping of the dragon's attention towards him was unmistakable.

It should, considering the weapons that floated beside him. Four, crystalline daggers pointed at the dragon, a sword of similar make in the middle.

"Bölverk Gram."

A/N: If you like what I do and want to support me, check out my P-atreon at P-atreon•com(slash)Almistyor.

And a special thanks to: Oliver vazquez, and brutalcrab. Thank you again, have a cookie on me.