Shirou, Blade of Emiya

[*Username*]

A/N: I was making some food and messed up, almost burning the kitchen down. I am not good at cooking.

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let them cook

 

[Aravis]

Well, at least you didn't fully burn the kitchen down?
Also, you switched between third and first person way too much this chappy, with no line breaks or anything to designate, just one paragraph it would be 3rd, then the next would be 1st, then back again the next, lol. Still thanks for the chappy!

Edit: wtf is with this site's emojis? It looks kinda cursed, lol... Imma leave it as is, heh

 

[Spearow]

He had black hair and a robust build covered by a fine suit. Finishing his task, the man rose from his chair and faced me, his expression detached with eyes pitiless as the sun. We acknowledged each other with a simple nod and headed out.

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Second master of Medea, right?

 

[OverReactionGuy]

He had black hair and a robust build covered by a fine suit. Finishing his task, the man rose from his chair and faced me, his expression detached with eyes pitiless as the sun. We acknowledged each other with a simple nod and headed out.

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Is this what I think it is?

SHIROU IS GOING TO HELP MEDEA GET A REAL BODY AND BE WITH HER HUSBANO! Probably clean up the grail to with her expert help. But this makes sense.

 

[ThatCatMan]

A/N: I was making some food and messed up, almost burning the kitchen down. I am not good at cooking.

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Yay, arson!

 

[Spelloyal]

Thanks for the chapter!

Passing the walls of the Emiya residence, I felt a Bounded Field, one of my own creation, wash over my whole being. After a decade of incessant studying, I finally became skilled enough to erect my own barriers on the same level as Kiritsugu's. It sure took a while since the intricacies of the craft kept turning opaque in my mind due to the effects of [Sword Incarnation].

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That wasn't a very smart decision on Shirou's part. Even in Magecraft the incarnation of the sword can be a benefit rather than a disadvantage as long as it is used well.

Instead of following traditional magecraft he could have forged swords to serve as the focal points of the bounded field and created a barrier that uses concepts closer to "sword" such as shield for defense and sword for attack.

He could learn all magecraft related to the sword, something like the church rituals that use the black keys for example and from there derive a style of magecraft that uses sword as a base. He could probably do pretty well with formalcraft using swords for rituals and whenever he needed something with a specific element he could forge mystical codes that were elemental swords.

Looking at traditional Eastern magecraft styles can also help as Eastern practices probably pair well with the use of elemental swords in place of amulets and talismans. With the Gate of Babylon it is even possible to carry hundreds of swords into combat and quickly throw them for magecraft and formalcraft

"Hey, Sakura," Shirou called out, catching her attention. He then spoke of his recent acquisition of the former Matou estate and offered to pass it to her. But Sakura refused with a head shake, allowing Shirou to do whatever he wishes with it. She'd long since considered the Emiya manor to be her one true home, as it contained everything she needed in life. The young girl peeked at the red-haired boy, her eyes filled of yearning. Throughout the years, Shirou had become dear to her, irreplaceable by anyone or anything.

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My only big complaint about this fic are paragraphs like this that summarize what should have been a good dialogue with character development.

 

[TyricGaias]

I don't mean to sound rude or harsh but the way this is written, you need to pick a POV (point of view) and stick with it. Or at least make it clear when you are switching. It's distracting having to figure it out while reading.

 

[Amber]

A/N: I was making some food and messed up, almost burning the kitchen down. I am not good at cooking.

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Emiya moment

 

[Eternal Dragon]

I was making some food and messed up, almost burning the kitchen down. I am not good at cooking.

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Ok kiritsugu ~

 

[Dunno.]

My only big complaint about this fic are paragraphs like this that summarize what should have been a good dialogue with character development.

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There's going to be a lot more of this in the next few chapters. Sorry. I'm not great at writing dialogues so I tend to shy away from it, but I'll try.

 

[Spelloyal]

There's going to be a lot more of this in the next few chapters. Sorry. I'm not great at writing dialogues so I tend to shy away from it, but I'll try.

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My advice is to try and practice this if you want to develop as an author, but with you being a fanfic author rather than a professional I understand that it's perfectly reasonable if you prefer to stay as you are now. You are already better than many authors out there and as I pointed out this is the only big problem I found.

 

[Dunno.]

Chapter 13: Reforged.

The finely dressed man and I reached the top of a small hill and entered the Ryuudou temple, where he lived. The blank-faced man was none other than Souichirou Kuzuki, an assassin trained from a young age but eventually settled down in Fuyuki two years prior to live a relatively normal life as a school teacher, wholly unaware of the existence of the supernatural.

We stand in silence inside an open space, the floor was made out of hardwood and the surroundings was lit up appropriately. Before me stood Kuzuki wearing different clothes; gone were the professional's ensemble he previous wore, replaced by a form-fitting attire that allowed a dynamic range of motion, the same applied to me.

A dangerous aura covered the man's form, and for a brief moment, I saw an image of a large snake coil around him, bearing its fangs at me with a hiss. Blinking, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before lunging at the man, arms raised. Bracing himself, Kuzuki did much the same, but more poised. Swift kicks and powerful punches flew through the air, each blow aiming to incapacitate the other without mercy.

I was, of course, limiting my physical capabilities to that of a normal human's level to properly contend with him in close combat. After much contemplation, I decided to speak to Souichirou Kuzuki a year ago and politely asked him to teach me unarmed combat to increase my repertoire of skills, all the while keeping my identity as a magus hidden. This served two things, not only do I grow more skilled at fighting, but also form a cordial relationship with the man. As from what I could remember, he became the Master of the Caster-class Servant during the Holy Grail War. I don't know if he still will be, but it was better to be friends with him now than enemies later, just in case.

My memories of the original source material started to blur as time went on, making me forget some details. Thankfully, I had the foresight to write down all the knowledge I had about the Fate franchise as a whole on a notebook that's safely secured inside my Gate of Babylon. It wasn't much, as I wasn't an avid watcher of the shows. It even took me a few hours to figure out who exactly Kiritsugu Emiya was when we first met. Nevertheless, what little information I possess was enough to give me an idea on how dangerous this world I now inhabited.

Back on topic; to nobody's surprise, the talk did not go well at first; he was extremely suspicious of my sudden approach, so I had to reveal my late father's line of work in order to gain even a modicum amount of his trust. What I didn't expect, however, was for Kuzuki to know of Kiritsugu's name. As it turns out, Kiritsugu Emiya was a well known figure around the higher circles of the underworld.

This piece of knowledge made me outright scratch my head, how did my father's full legal name even get disclosed? His profession centered around anonymity, for goodness sake. I knew Kiritsugu had some acquaintances scattered across the globe, but I thought they were few and far between. It was at this moment I realized that he was more infamous than I previously thought. Eventually, after much chatting, Kuzuki agreed to take me under his tutelage.

Returning to the spar; I launched a barrage of strikes, driving the assassin back as he skillfully blocked and evaded each attack. As the fight went on, the momentum I was building up was immediately broken by the older gentlemen with a simple push to my shins. Undiscouraged, I resumed my pursuit and attempted to throw him to the ground which went unsuccessful as Kuzuki saw through it and responded accordingly.

With a sudden, unexpected maneuver, Kuzuki exploited a brief opening in my defense and scored a hit to my stomach, immediately followed up by a jab to the face. Quickly reacting, I tilt my head to dodge the attack, then jumped to side just in time to see Kuzuki's outstretched limb dart back like a whip. Had I not moved out of the way, the back of my head would've been struck. Without wasting another moment, the assassin stepped foward and executed a storm of blows at my retreating frame, taking full control of the flow of battle.

Desperate to escape my perilous position, I turned slightly, intentionally leaving the left side of my torso open. Faster than his thoughts could formulate, Kuzuki's hand moved to take advantage of the supposed gap in my guard, only for my body to twist at the last instant and arrest his arm, pulling him into a bind. What I didn't take into account, however, was the sheer flexibility of the man's joints. Tugging his captured limb, it slithered out of my hold with ease, much to my surprise. Kuzuki clenched his fist and landed a ferocious blow to my temple while simultaneously sweeping at my legs with his own in an extraordinary display of skill, knocking me off my feet.

The world spun as I fell to the ground in a clatter, forcing a groan to leave my lips. Though not hurt, the abruptness of it all still disoriented me to some degree. Regaining my composure, I tried to stand but found the tip of Kuzuki's nails hovering just inches away from my eye, preventing me from moving further.

"That'll be it for today," the assassin announced in a monotone voice as he pulled his hand back, ending our sparring session for the day. Rising to my feet, I breathed out and reviewed what happened in my mind.

The disparity in skill and experience between us was pretty obvious. It seems that without using my superior physique, I could not hope to defeat Souichirou Kuzuki's martial prowess as I am now. But my spirits weren't down, I'll catch up soon enough. After the fact, the two of us took a break and changed to a more comfortable set of apparels.

"Emiya, a word," Kuzuki called out. I turned and gave him my full attention. He remarked on my actions during the final moments of our duel, complimenting the technique I had used. It was an unusual but effective strategy against stronger and more experienced opponents, as it leveraged the enemy's instincts to exploit any opening for a swift counterattack. However, he cautioned me against relying on such an unorthodox method, warning that unless I was exceptionally skilled, it would expose me to more danger than it was worth.

I agreed with his assessment. While the technique had its merits, there was no sense in giving an opponent an opportunity to attack if I couldn't react in time. A delayed response, even by a millisecond, would spell disaster for the defender.

Ending our meeting promptly, I bowed and made my way behind the temple, where rows of meticulously crafted headstones lay in tranquil silence. The winds were calm, and birds chirped their merry songs as I traversed the familiar path, finally stopping at a particular grave that seemed no different from those beside it. The sun peeked through muted clouds, casting bright rays through the gaps in the tree's foliage and illuminating the monument, revealing the name etched on its surface—Kiritsugu Emiya.

"Hey, Dad. It's been a while. The Holy Grail War is right around the corner, a continuation of the one you fought in. I'll be sure to finish what you started," I vowed with a grim smile, my voice barely above a whisper. Rarely do I visit his grave since a myriad of other things required my attention, but I make sure to come here at least once a year.

I had once considered using his remains to craft the ideal anti-magus weapon, but I chose not to out of respect. Kiritsugu Emiya had done enough, he deserved to rest in peace, not be forced into service even beyond the grave.

Then there was the situation with his daughter, my stepsister—Illyasviel von Einzbern. I had scoured the laptop Kiritsugu left behind, searching for any information that might lead me to Illya, but to no avail. He had searched far and wide, yet failed to find her, marking Jubstacheit Von Einzbern's - the person who took Illyasviel - capabilities to stay invisible, more than anything.

If Kiritsugu couldn't do it, what chance did I have? Amid the files, however, I found a short message written specifically for Illya before his passing. To my surprise, it even included some comments about me. This begged the question: why didn't he tell me about her? Did he simply not want to drag me into his problems?

I shook my head. Although these matters were of great personal importance, they were problems for a later date. Illya, if fate remained true, would naturally end up in Fuyuki as a participant of the upcoming Holy Grail War, leading to our inevitable meeting. Right now, there was something else that required my focus.

"There's something else I need to tackle first." Mentally commanding the System, a screen manifested in front of me.

[27 days remaining until the next Quest].

There were still a little under a month until the System issued the second Quest. I wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or anxious that it would happen right before the Holy Grail War. Truthfully, I was nervous; the task ahead could be anything. The risk might be too great, and I could perish. On the other hand, success would make me more powerful. All I could really do was prepare and hope for the best.

I said my goodbyes to my adoptive father's resting place and turned away, leaving the hilltop temple. Striding through the streets with newfound confidence, I eventually arrived back home. Passing the gates, I spotted 2 birds—magical familiars—posted atop the antennae, watching over the place. Once inside, Sakura, anticipating my return, greeted me with a brief hug, which I warmly reciprocated.

The days went by without a hitch, Taiga still visited us every so often, and her grandfather—Raiga Fujimura—even popped in to ask for my help in tuning their vehicles. My relationship with the Yakuza head was amiable, to the point where I'd do occasional odd jobs for the group here and there, mainly fixing whatever broken equipment they have.

He's even asked me to watch over Taiga, who's supposed to be my guardian, with an amused chuckle. When I confronted the man about his tendency to spoil his granddaughter, he gave me an incredulous stare, sent a blank glance at Sakura, then burst into a laughing fit while saying in between breaths, "Look who's talking. Young man, you can't even go ten meters off your own house without worrying for Sakura!" This, in turn, caused the aforementioned girl's cheeks turn beet red.

We laughed while Taiga smothered Rou to the side, these were times I wished to stretch on forever. Alas, danger always loomed over the horizon.

---

I stood in my dimly lit workshop at the back of the Emiya mansion. The former Matou estate, while cleaned of Zouken's influence, has yet to be properly furnished, so to the shed it was. The air was thick with the scent of burning coal and hot metal as the forge before me roared with fierce intensity, casting an orange glow that danced across my sweat beaded face as I plunged a length of metal into the heart of the fire, watching it heat until it was a vivid, cherry red.

It was no ordinary ingot, but one made from Kiritsugu's remaining Origin Bullets. After thinking about it for months, I ultimately chose to take the bullets out of their cartridges and melt them into a single bar. Not all of it had been recycled; I left one behind as a momento, latching it into a necklace that now wrapped around my neck.

The Origin bullets by themselves were powerful against magi kind, no doubt, but my main form of engagement was unlike Kiritsugu's, who preferred to ambush his prey from a distance. Though it is possible for me to Project Origin bullets at a much steeper cost than a sword, I'd rather have them in the shape of a blade that I could easily replicate using my magecraft.

With practiced precision, I pulled the glowing metal from the forge and placed it on the anvil. Each strike of the hammer rang out with a rhythmic clanging, shaping the steel into the rough outline of a small dagger. Sparks flew with every impact, briefly illuminating the entire space.

Sadly, due to the small number of bullets, a dagger was the best I could craft it into without weakening its effects. But that would pose no problems as I could just copy the weapon later and perform Alteration on it to extend its length how I see fit.

I paused to examine the blade, then reheated it, repeating the cycle of heating and hammering. Gradually, the rough edges smoothed, and the dagger took on a more refined from. The sound of the hammer striking the anvil was steady, almost meditative, punctuated only by the occasional hiss of steam as the blade was cooled in a nearby barrel of water.

Satisfied with the shape, I then moved to the grinding wheel and pressed the blade against the spinning stone, sending a shower of sparks cascading to the floor. The grinding wheel whirred loudly, drowning out all other sounds as it honed the blade to a razor-sharp edge. My hands moved with skill and certainty, guiding the blade with precision against the stone.

Next came the hilt. Selecting a piece of dark wood, I carefully carved and sand it until it fit perfectly with the tang of the blade, then attached the hilt with sturdy pins and wrapped it tightly with leather, ensuring a comfortable and secure grip.

I stepped back, holding the finished product up to the light. Happy with the results, I set it down as a sense of quiet satisfaction washed over me. Focusing inward and gazing into the immense landscape of Unlimited Blade Works, I spotted a perfect copy of the newly-made dagger sheathed into the ground with its handle pointed at the sky.

A smile swept across my face as I opened my eyes once again. With this, I've done pretty much everything I wanted to do. Gazing forward, I stare at the timer near the bottom of the System's interface.

[1 day remaining until the next Quest]

END.​

A/N: A bit of a heads up, the new Quest will only be two chapters long.

 

[Spearow]

shirou, being a saber face, and saber being kiritsu servant... that MUST rise up some questions, he does look like the son of arturia, someone at some time must ask it bro, it is the kind of thing that should happen bro and its gonna be hilarious, imagine, if he summons mordred instead and she starts to think he is her younger brother.
The potential is there bro, go for it

 

[falsegod]

if he summons mordred instead and she starts to think he is her younger brother.

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lmao, now i want to see this

 

[Amber]

Oh yeah, Shirou is saberface here, lol. Imagine Artoria getting summoned by seemingly her descendant and trying to trace his roots. She might even think that he is descendant of another Artoria clone. Ffs, Morgan.

 

[Korst]

Wait, aren't Origin bullets condensed bone dust made of Kiritsugu's ribs? Did he use the bone dust to make steel...?

 

[Evaris]

Wait, aren't Origin bullets condensed bone dust made of Kiritsugu's ribs? Did he use the bone dust to make steel...?

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As the bullets in question were cast, I'd assume that it was a mixture of a metal and the bone dust. And I'd assume silver would be used as the encapsulating metal due to the magical significance of silver, though given the severance / reconnection mystery involved with kiritsugu's particular origin; perhaps bronze as it was a metal also commonly used in cutting tools and surgical tools, or a softer stainless steel for the same reasoning, though I'd expect more magical significance from bronze and it would work better for bullets due to the higher density.

But ultimately it's up to viewer interpretation for canon and the OP for this story

 

[Dreykey]

My memories of the original source material started to blur as time went on, making me forget some details. Thankfully, I had the foresight to write down all the knowledge I had about the Fate franchise as a whole on a notebook that's safely secured inside my Gate of Babylon. It wasn't much, as I wasn't an avid watcher of the shows. It even took me a few hours to figure out who exactly Kiritsugu Emiya was when we first met. Nevertheless, what little information I possess was enough to give me an idea on how dangerous this world I now inhabited.

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This remind me... in Fate/Strange Fake lore, Francesca Prelati tried to join the Fourth Grail War, but Zouken was the one who tossed her out. And Zouken here has been dead for awhile...
Sure, it's a different timeline, but that detail could be used to give a unexpected antagonist.

 

[sandmanwake]

shirou, being a saber face, and saber being kiritsu servant... that MUST rise up some questions, he does look like the son of arturia, someone at some time must ask it bro, it is the kind of thing that should happen bro and its gonna be hilarious, imagine, if he summons mordred instead and she starts to think he is her younger brother.
The potential is there bro, go for it

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He already ran into Mordred during the last Grail War arc.

 

[Spearow]

He already ran into Mordred during the last Grail War arc.

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I know, but she did not had context, no history, now she will have context

 

[Dunno.]

Chapter 14: Second Quest (1/2) - Dun Scáith.

The sun began to rise over Fuyuki, casting its light upon the waking city. I sat atop a wooden chair inside my smithy, holding a clock in my hand. As to why, I was setting it up to determine if time passed here while I was in the middle of a Quest. Right after completing the last one, it felt as if not a second had gone by, but I needed to be sure. I had tried asking the System many times, but it remained silent, never answering my questions as always.

Closing my eyes and gazing into the Gate of Babylon, I saw a menagerie of items lying around. The Noble Phantasm was a wonderful thing that alleviated a lot of my problems; it was essentially a warehouse of enourmous proportions that followed me everywhere, allowing me to store or take out objects at will using a golden portal. Unlike its original owner, Gilgamesh, who only stored valuable treasures inside, I was less discerning and deposited items that wouldn't usually come to mind, such as stacks of steel ingots and an entire freezer filled with frozen meat because why not.

I took a deep breath to calm my rising excitement, my eyes snapping to the translucent screen that appeared before me, signaling the start of a new mission.

[A new Quest has become available]

Much like before, an invisible hand plucked me from the mortal plane, ridding my sense of sight. This time, however, I kept my composure and remained still. There was nothing to perceive in this void, so I simply waited to be thrown back into the physical world. As expected, light pierced the blackness of the abyss, and my vision returned.

The distinct noise of displaced air and the sensation of wind whipping around me alerted me to my predicament. I looked down and saw that I was free-falling from approximately a hundred meters above the ground. Frowning, a question not meant to be answered popped into my head, 'Why am I in the sky again?'

Anticipating the unusual descent, I bent my knees just before impact to soften the landing, making a graceful touchdown. The collision with the earth produced a loud, sharp thud that cracked the ground beneath me before falling into silence. Dusting off my clothes, I mused, 'Why do I feel like this will become a regular thing?'

My gaze turned to my surroundings, scanning for any signs of danger. I had landed in the middle of a sprawling meadow, the landscape blanketed with grass and vibrant patches of colorful flowers. In the distance, a wall of mist encircled the space, obstructing my view of what lay beyond.

As I focused on the center of the meadow, I spotted a horde of quadruped beasts, appearing mostly canine with unruly fur smudged in dirt. They were shrouded in an eerie aura, sending a slight chill up my spine. They didn't feel overtly threatening, but their presence exuded a wicked feel that I couldn't quite identify. Though confident in my current strength, I knew it wouldn't hurt to be better prepared.

"I guess it's finally time," I muttered, opening the System's interface. I quickly invested my remaining stat points, leaving VIT untouched while allocating the majority to MAG, enhancing my prowess with my limited but powerful combination of spells.

—

Level: 50

STR: 55 (+25)
VIT: 152
AGI: 60 (+25)
MAG: 80 (+40)
Stat points: 0 (-90)

—

I felt a surge of warmth course through my veins like a torrent of electricity. Shaking off the otherworldly sensation, I acclimated to the change and refocused on the pack of monsters slowly trudging toward me. With a thought, a simple broadsword appeared in my grasp. Holding the blade in reverse, I lifted it up, pointing its tip to the grassy floor.

"I am the bone of my sword. Steel is my body, and fire is my blood," the first and second line of Unlimited Blade Works' chant rolled off my tongue, resulting in a wave of energy to shoot across my body. I attempted to resume the incantation but my lips sealed itself shut. It was a curious thing; for reasons I've yet to decipher, I am unable to continue the aria despite knowing what comes next. No matter, it was something for me to ponder about later.

Instead of choosing a sword stuck within, I pulled upon the Reality Marble's essence and inserted it into the blade in my hand. The sword trembled, brimming with enough power that it cracked on some areas despite its bolstered durability. As the beasts surround me in groups, I plunged the weapon halfway through the ground. A low rumble ensued, followed by a burst of metallic stakes blooming from underneath each canine like common grass. Caught by surprise, the pack was unable to react in time and were skewered one by one, killing them instantaneously.

The mass of bloodied spikes, along with the broken sword, shattered into motes of blue particles after a while, letting the beasts' lifeless carcasses drop with a soft tumble. They provided a large amount of experience points, but not enough to level up.

The ability I deployed was an improvement of the technique I had once used against Amakusa Shirou Tokisada in desperation years ago. Instead of shooting it like a bullet, I had refined it into a deadly move that could discharge sharp thorns on any nearby surface. While I could still use it as a projectile, this new application was far more effective as it was in accord with my body's unique trait. Satisfied with the result, I left the scene to avoid the scent of death and casually propped myself against a boulder, opening the System to figure out what my new Quest was.

[Fulfill Scáthach's wish]

"Hm?" a hum escaped my lips, brows furrowed. I withdrew a white notebook from a golden portal and flipped through its pages to find any information about the legendary Scottish warrior woman—Scáthach. More specifically, Fate's rendition of the character.

Tossing the textbook back into the Gate of Babylon, my lips pursed. There wasn't much to begin with, the most I've written on her was that she was a powerful being who trains a myriad of warriors - including the renowned Irish hero—Cú Chulainn - in hopes that some day, one of them would slay her. Was that her wish; to be killed? She was an immortal being from my understanding, so that might pose a problem. Perhaps she had another wish that I am unaware of? Probably, I barely knew her after all.

Closing the screen, I pushed myself up and heard a slight commotion happening behind a crowd of trees some distance away. Letting curiosity get the better of me, I sauntered across the grassy plain and arrived at the other side of the foliage to find a young man, no older than 16, with his top bare some reason, showing his toned figure. His vibrant blue hair swayed in the wind as he ran from a tide of monsters similar to the ones I felled prior.

'No,' I shook my head. He wasn't fleeing, the bluenette was circling the area, herding as much of them as he could. Each step he took was filled with confidence, unperturbed by the growing mob behind him.

'Is that who I think it is?' Out of reflex, I used Structural Analysis on the straight sword he was carrying. Gleaning through the item's memories, I drew a sharp breath upon ascertaining his identity: Ireland's Child of Light, Cú Chulainn—then named Setanta—the Hound of Culann. 'So it is him.'

With a glimmer of magical energy, a bucket of popcorn came into existence. Taking it, I threw a handful of kernels into my mouth and watched as the son of Lugh—Celtic God of Light—pivoted on his foot and spun around to execute a horizontal slash at his pursuers. An invisible force swept through the canines' ranks, slicing dozens in half with ease. Cú quickly delivered strike after strike, ending the lives of many beasts until every single one of them lied dead on the ground, reduced to nothing but chunks of meat. Witnessing his feat of strength, I praised the demi-god internally.

Turning his head, Cú spotted me and waved excitedly. I returned the gesture, seeing no harm in doing so. Sheathing the blade on his waist, the blue-haired teen sprinted toward me, closing the distance within minutes.

"Hey there, I am Cú Chulainn!" he greeted with a smile, speaking in an exotic language. He seemed friendly and excitable, but not annoying. His entire presence felt like an impressionable younger brother. "Are you here to seek the Witch of Dún Scáith as well?" he inquired.

Blinking, I found myself mildly taken aback by the fact that I somehow understood what he was saying, it was jarring knowing words you've definitely never heard of until now. The System probably had something to do with it, was it able to translate other languages this whole time? Were my efforts to learn foreign scripts redundant? No, this was most likely a special occasion, so I pushed my surprise aside.

Going back to his words, I immediately realized where we were: the Isle of Skye, where Scáthach resided. It made sense, the System wouldn't just drop me off in the middle of nowhere. Well, technically, I was in the middle of nowhere, but all in the right ways.

Letting the popcorn bucket vanish, much to Cú's amazement, I introduced myself using the familiar, yet utterly foreign tongue that had somehow entered my brain, "I am Shirou. And you're correct, I'm here to find her as well." While my goal greatly differed from his, I wouldn't turn down the opportunity to learn from the legendary Scottish warrior herself and emerge as a better combatant by the end of this Quest.

The demi-god tilted his head, making a short comment about my name, before beaming up, proposing that we join forces in finding the famed woman, to which I agreed with a shrug. With our short introductions over, I asked a question that had been brewing in my mind, "Why are you shirtless?"

He responded that his clothes had been ripped apart earlier during an encounter, but he found no problem continuing his journey without them. He tapped the pommel of his weapon and said with a laugh, "At least I didn't lose my sword."

I took a clean tunic, sewn by yours truly, out of my storage and offered it to him as a replacement. Cú grabbed it and thanked me sincerely before putting it on, then asked about the golden portal. When I answered with "Magic", he simply accepted it like it was the most normal thing in the world. Before we ventured off across the landscape, however, the bluenette challenged me to a friendly spar. Oddly enough, the request sounded natural to him, as if he's asked the same thing to everyone he'd met. Seeing this as a good way to find out how I stand against a literal child of a god, I welcomed it with open arms.

"Gotta warn you though, I'm pretty strong," the young man boasted.

"We'll see about that," I returned with a smirk. There was no doubt in my mind that he was strong even as he is now, for he had divine blood running through his veins.

We stood on opposite ends of the open field, stretching our limbs. Finishing his warmups, Cú pulled his sword from its scabbard and entered a stance, both hands firmly gripping the handle of his weapon. Arms extended, I summoned a golden curved sword, its razor-sharp edge gleaming softly. Seeing this, his eyes sparkled with interest and vocalized his thoughts, "Woah, you've gotta teach me how to do that!"

"Unfortunately, this sort of magic is kinda unique to me alone," I replied in a matter-of-fact tone. I heard a disappointed "Oh" leave his lips at my answer. If he had a tail, it would've drooped down in sadness.

Without warning, I dashed out of sight, kicking up a swirl of dust. Cú's despondent expression quickly turned pensive, his eyes bouncing to and fro to catch even a glimpse of my figure. Appearing behind the young man, I pulled my hand back and executed a swift diagonal slash to his back. Letting his instincts take over, the demi-god lowered himself, evading the attack with ease. In the same action, he twisted around and counterattacks by swinging his sword in a deadly arc.

Turning my body, the blade completely missed its target, leaving me unharmed. I could not say the same for the poor trees behind me, however. Not being able to move and all, a small portion of the woods groaned before collapsing to the ground, sliced in half by the sheer force behind Cú's swing. Looking back, a sharp whistle left my rounded lips in admiration. Without a doubt, Cú Chulainn surpasses me in pure physical might. Suddenly, a near silent whizz came from the side, accompanied by Cú's youthful voice, "Where are you looking!"

Tilting my head, the distorted image of a sword brushed past my face. Even with all his strength, however, I proved too agile for him to hit, a testament to my dexterity. With a graceful flourish, I brandished my blade and lashed out. Our little scuffle quickly turned into a shower of sparks, limbs blurring due to the inhuman speed in which we delivered our swings, The demi-god aimed to overwhelm me using his superior strength, but my nimble footwork allowed me to weave through every attack.

With each blow that flew out, the smile on the bluenette's face grew more prominent, indicating his enjoyment. In an unexpected maneuver, I flicked his weapon offline and raised my foot, delivering a kick to his stomach that launched him backward with incredible force. The demi-god crashed through several tree trunks, breaking them into chunks, before finally skidding to a halt.

I winced as pain throbbed in my ankle. It seemed he not only exceeded me in physical prowess but in toughness as well. Good to know. Undeterred by his impromptu flying lessons, Cú Chulainn hastily recovered, shaking off the chips of wood, and lunged forward again. Interlocked in a deadly clash once more, he pressed forward with relentless cuts while I parried each blow with finesse, our swords singing as steel brushed against steel in a dance of swordsmanship.

My blade gained momentum with each passing second, swerving around his weapon like a snake. Eventually, my swings became so fast that he barely kept up with each successive block, forcing Cú on the defensive.

Unable to track Shirou's movements, Cú narrowed his gaze, pulling his consciousness inward and tapping into his godly heritage. Six dots of pure blackness manifested in each of his eyes, orbiting his pupils like miniature moons. The demi-god raised an arm, intercepting the curved sword's path and halting the redhead's whirlwind of slashes, much to the his surprise. Cú then stepped forward, charging with a thrust.

'Time Alter—triple accel,' I mentally activated the Emiya Crest, causing my perception of reality to speed up manyfold. Reacting swiftly, I caught his sword in betwixt my knee and elbow, shocking its wielder. Taking advantage of his momentary lapse in attention, I swiftly swept his legs, knocking him off his feet with enough force to rattle him.

As he began to stand up, he found the tip of my sword leveled at his throat, signaling the end of our duel. With a thought, the time spell's effects was dismissed. Letting the golden sword disappear from my grip, I offered the young man a hand, which he took, and helped him stand up.

"Woah! You're fast, faster than anyone I've seen," the young man exclaimed as the points in his sclera receded to nothingnes. Despite resulting in his loss, the smile on his lips couldn't be more brighter. What even was that at the end? Did he activate his Sharingan or something?

After the match, as we idled in place to catch our breath, my thoughts began to drift. Though I had won our spar, the demi-god could certainly defeat me if he tried hard enough. Yet, I felt confident I could best him; I had yet to utilize everything in my arsenal after all. Having a video game System was truly the greatest boon to have for somelike like myself. I shook my head, cringing at the realization that I was taking pride in defeating a child. One born with divine blood, sure, but a child nonetheless.

Sighing, I turned to my companion and commented on the black dots that had appeared in his eyes at the climax of our fight, asking what they were. Cú nonchalantly revealed that it was part of his powers as a child of Lugh, which boosted his reaction speed and sense of apprehension significantly when triggered. Retracing my memories, I recalled reading something about Setanta, or Cú Chulainn, being born with seven pupils in each eye. That was probably it. There were also mentions of him having additional toes and fingers, but looking at his hands and feet right now, they looked pretty normal.

"Should you really be telling me this?" I asked. Sharing your abilities with someone you just met wasn't something one usually does.

"Meh," he shrugged. "It's not really that big of a secret." I supposed it wasn't, considering he was well-known even before his tutelage under Scáthach. With his personality, hiding his godly traits from the masses would be quite a challenge.

"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you a bit about my craft." Hearing this, Cú listened with rapt attention. Though not adept in thaumaturgy, the demi-god still concentrated on what I'm saying and was fascinated by the wonders of magic.

At the end of my short explanation, he spoke with stars in his eyes, "So you have an unlimited supply of armaments as long as your mana reserves allow it?"

"Pretty much, yeah," I confirmed. The only thing I told him was that it was possible for me to create swords with mana, leaving Noble Phantasms out of the conversation as that detail would be a surprise for later.

He slumped, slightly jealous of my ability to conjure bladed tools at will. He complained about the number of weapons he'd broken in the past, saying that if he had my ability, he wouldn't have to visit a blacksmith so often. I heard him mutter, "Why can't I do cool magic like that? Aren't I half god?" as he scrutinized his current sword.

Feeling bad, I projected a sword nearly identical to his and reinforced it, bolstering its sturdiness to withstand his godly strength. I offered the blade to him, and he eagerly accepted. He did a couple test swings with it before strapping it below his existing sword with a satisfied expression.

[You have completed a side-quest] A System notification appeared, which was immediately interrupted by another that said, [You have leveled up]

I swiped them away and rose to my feet. Having rested well enough, the two of us talked some more before starting our journey. Together, we set off across the Isle of Skye, our shared quest leading us toward the famed Witch of Dun Scaith—Scáthach.

---

Turns out, our adventure mostly consisted of traversing the environment and killing the occasional monster that blocked in our path, not that exciting to be honest. I've already started to miss the conveniences of modern transportation, it was truly a gift being able to travel immense distances without doing work yourself. Nevertheless, I still found ways to entertain myself; sightseeing being one of them. Without traces of human activity, Mother nature was truly a breathtaking sight to behold. A shame most of it had been harvested for resources.

Cú Chulainn and I got along well enough, he was rather straight forward and often let his unfiltered thoughts run through his mouth. When the sun started drooping into the horizon, I prepared us a simple meal over a campfire. On the first bite, he was ensnared by its taste and consumed his food like a starved beast, leaving nothing behind.

Much later, the sun retreated to the other side of the world, letting the pale moon rise to guide those lost in the dark. We were separated at the moment; the bluenette had gone off to hunt tonight's dinner, eager to taste more of my cooking, while I trekked to the nearby lake. I removed my shirt, keeping my form-fitting pants on, and sank halfway into the large body of water. I lathered myself in soap and began scrubbing, cleansing my body of dirt.

Taking a bucket full of water, I poured it over myself one last time. Finishing my bath, I slowly emerged from the lake while brushing my lengthy auburn hair back. To the side, the bushes parted with a soft rustle, revealing Cú Chulainn carrying a boar twice his size over his shoulder. Gazing at my topless self, he spun around in a panic, cheeks flushing rosy pink, and dropping the fat animal in the process.

"Is something wrong?" I asked the flustered demi-god, confused by his reaction.

"S-Shirou, you d-didn't tell me you were—I can't possibly o-ogle at a fair maiden's body!" the blue-haired teen stammered, his voice trembling. Hearing this, my eyes twitched in slight agitation. Something primal within me threatened to burst out, but I barely managed to push it back to where it came from.

"I'll have you know that I am a full-grown man, not a girl," I clarified to ease his concerns. "I'm not going to make a fuss about it, so it's okay for you to turn around," I stated, my voice as dispassionate as a rock. Okay… maybe a small part of me did get hurt by his comment.

Cú slowly twirled his head, peeking over his shoulder. Catching a brief glimpse of my frame, he snapped his eyes shut and faced away again, feeling a rush of warmth to his face.

"I-I can't—!" Cú stuttered as his entire body started heating up. His mind began to numb, legs weakening, before he crashed to the ground, unconscious.

"What," a single word left my lips in utter bewilderment. Squinting, I swear the grass beneath him got singed by his body heat. Were my feminine traits that great to elicit such a response?

Looking down, I saw my full figure reflecting on the lake's calm surface. I stood taller than the average person, with a lithe yet athletic build and a slender waist. My mannerisms and the way I conducted myself spoke of masculinity, yet, instead of hinting at my true gender, these traits only solidified my image as an idealized tomboy. Honestly, I couldn't fault the young demi-god for fainting at the sight of my bare self.

I clutched my chest, the very thought of being mistaken as the opposite gender caused my soul to crack. I've tried many ways to appear manly, but my attempts only made my feminine features more appealing. If only I could remove the [Saber-face] title, the source of this curse. 'No. I will not fall for the temptations, I refuse to become a femboy with every fiber of my being!' I made a silent oath to myself.

Sighing, I quickly got over my short mental breakdown and dried myself with a towel. Though uncaring of how other people perceived my appearance, I still very much preferred to look male. Gently setting the unconscious Cú atop some patches of soft grass, I summoned a silky blanket and draped it over the demi-god, leaving him to wander in his dreams. I then approached the fallen boar and deftly dismantled its carcass. Seeing as how Cú was out of commission for the night, it'd be tomorrow's breakfast.

When morning arrived, Cú jumped to his feet, cheeks flushed, and apologized for his behavior last night. I waved it off with a snicker, more amused by his innocence than anything.

As we ate breakfast, the sound of footsteps reached my ears. From the corner of my vision, I saw a brown-haired young man with a sword on his hip emerge from behind the trees, hands raised to show his peaceful intentions. Cú, being the outgoing lad that he was, welcomed him warmly. The man revealed that he had followed the delicious scent of our food that made his stomach growl, which led him to our campsite. Seeing no harm in it, I took a bowl and offered him a share of our meal. Thanking me, the young man devoured it in seconds, unaware of his own speed, causing Cú to bark out a hearty laugh.

The two of us introduced ourselves, and he did much the same, naming himself as Ferdiad, son of Dáman, and a warrior of Connacht. My ears perked up, eyes flashing with recognition; he was none other than Cú Chulainn's soon-to-be best friend and brother-in-arms. I wasn't sure if this was how they originally met, but what mattered was that they did. True to my memories, he had come here with the same goal as Cú and I, which made bonding with him easier.

After exchanging a few more words, he agreed to join us. Almost immediately, the blue-haired demi-god requested a friendly bout with him. Surprisingly, Ferdiad accepted the challenge, and the two men went off to fight while I sat on the sidelines to spectate, grilled meat in hand.

Each blow they scored on one another echoed like distant thunder claps, the earth gained some dents and countless trees were forcefully removed from their positions during their battle. Ferdiad matched the demi-god in speed and strength despite being human without a shred of divine heritage, which spoke volumes about his talent and dedication. The duel ended in a draw, and the two lay on their backs in exhaustion, sharing the same smile. It seemed Cú wasn't the only one here with the odd obsession for fighting, the two of them fit together like peas in a pod.

Resting briefly, our small party of three then resumed forging across the sprawling landscape. We eventually reached the edge of the bottomless gorge that spanned as far as the eye can see. Gazing down, my eyes failed to pierce the darkness that rest below, causing me to take a step back out of fright.

"This is it. From what I've heard, Dun Scáith is just behind this," Cú claimed, which Ferdiad reinforced with a nod. My brows shot up out of shock; I do not remember there being any mentions of a gigantic chasm separating Dun Scáith from the mainland. Did this gap still exist in the modern world? Cause' if so, I might just pay a visit to Scotland after this.

Half an hour of carefully strutting along the edge later, we spotted an aged bridge connecting one side of the chasm to the other. Nearing the entrance, the winds howled as if responding to our arrival. The bridge made not a single noise nor did it sway, unbothered by the harsh gales.

Stepping onto the viaduct, the wood that made up its frame did not creak contrary to its weathered appearance, fully supporting our combined weight. Narrowing my gaze, I could spot a myriad of intricate symbols that emitted a hint of magical energy carved into the bridge, presumably the source of its unnatural solidity. Having not seen such strange scripts before, I unfortunately couldn't figure out their meaning.

Continuing on, we crossed the ravine in a few minutes and made it back onto land once more. Without warning, the beaten structure subtly glowed before its support beams snapped in half, prompting the entire thing to dive into the endless pit below. While my companions adopted looks of confusion at the odd occurrence, my ears picked up on a near silent whistle coming from the thicket of trees ahead of us.

"Something's coming!" My shout instantly catapulted them into a heightened state of alertness, blades drawn. Whipping my head to the side, a white blur zipped past me and buried itself into the ground—a makeshift javelin made from animal bone. The attack didn't stop there; more projectiles surged from the woods with the ferocity of cannonballs.

I leapt to the front and attempted to block the incoming hail by creating a wide shield, but the sheer power behind the projectiles shattered the magical construct in an instant. Forced to rely on our agility, we deftly evaded and deflected the storm of sharpened bones. The spears seemed endless; as soon as one flew out, another quickly followed. Was there a group lying in wait to ambush those who crossed the bridge? If so, why hadn't they simply collapsed the structure while we were on it? Questions for later.

Through managing to stay unharmed, we were slowly being pushed back, teetering closer to the edge of the abyss. I combed through my Reality Marble and grasped Jeanne d'Arc's Noble Phantasm, about to Project it, until the bombardment abruptly ceased, giving us a moment of respite. Cú exhaled, sporting a nervous smile, while Ferdiad wiped the drop of sweat sliding down the side of his face. Their eyes darted around, bodies jittery, prepared for another downpour of projectiles.

"A satisfactory performance," a commanding voice boomed from farther away. I trained my sight to the noise's source, and the air suddenly grew heavier as a single shadowy figure emerged from the canopy of trees. It was woman of immaculate proportions, clad in dark close-fitting clothes that highlighted her curves. Her long, lavender hair swayed along with her gait, and her piercing red eyes scrutinized us from head to toe. I don't know if I was seeing things, but her eyes seemed lingered longer on me longer than the others. A predatory grin captured her lips, sending a terrible chill down my spine.

"Before you stands the one who conquered over the haunted grounds known as the Land of Shadows, ruling it as its queen—I am Scáthach!" her voice bellowed with authority, reverberating across the quiet vista.

Scáthach was a fearsome warrior who grew to be one of the strongest people in the world. Using her immense strength and supreme mastery over Runic spells, she had slain gods and was crowned a God Slayer, a feat only few throughout humanity's history had attained. With this power, she obtained control over the Land of Shadows, a place overflowing with spirits, then went on to become the mentor of countless people courageous enough to wander into her territory.

She stood confidently, her back straight, her aura imposing. Casually twirling the crimson spear that released a torrent of bloodlust in her hands, she demanded, "Name yourselves, brave warriors."

Pushing the invisible weights off my shoulders, I answered, "I am Shirou." Looking at my starstruck companions, I pulled them out of their stupor with a nudge. The duo regained their calm, sheathed their weapons, and introduced themselves with a joyful expression, excited to be in the presence of the legendary Scottish woman.

"Hm," she let out an approving hum before turning around without saying another word, fully expecting us to follow. Our objective for coming here was clearer than glass, so there was no need think about it. Without asking questions, we picked up our pace and trailed behind her like ducklings. The pair beside me gave off a sense of enthusiasm, while I on the other hand contemplated on taking out a camera to take pictures of the God Slayer's bewitching beauty, but chose not to and followed quietly. Perhaps that can happen later.

As we crested over a hill, we saw it; there, looming in the horizon was a castle, its tall spires and walls stood in stark contrast against the fading light, a silent sentinel looking over the surroundings grounds. We drew closer and arrived at a narrow, winding path that led up to the massive iron gates that hung like an open maw.

Entering the building known as Dun Scáith (Fortress of Shadows), we walked into an open garden filled with various steel armaments atop racks leaning against the ramparts.

"No time to dally, your training starts now," Scáthach announced. Picking three spears off a rack, she hurled them in our direction with a flick of her hand. Without flinching, I caught the weapon and immediately noticed something odd about it. Unlike a usual spear, which was heavy on one end, this one was equally balanced on each side, more akin to a staff. Both Cú and Ferdiad were inspecting their spears with raised brows, clearly noticing the same anomaly.

Raising a hand, Cú asked, "Um… What are we supposed to do?" The grin on Scáthach's face grew wider in response, her eyes gleaming a dangerous red. A sense of trepidation washed over my very soul, making me step back as if instinctively fearing what was to come.

Scáthach introduced us to her form of training—by relentlessly beating us without holding any punches back, both figuratively and literally. Cú Chulainn and Ferdiad, familiar with such savage methods, adapted quickly. I, however, was wholly unprepared for the brutal lessons and struggled to keep up, often falling behind. But that wasn't even where my personal hell ended; it was here where I realized that having draconian levels of stamina might not be so great after all.

"Oh? You're more resilient than you look, Shirou," the sadistic woman remarked with a smirk. Realizing that my endurance and natural healing capabilities eclipsed those of my companions, she became even harsher towards me, mercilessly breaking many of my bones like they were brittle twigs.

The training ground echoed with the sounds of clashing weapons and grunts of pain. Each strike from Scáthach was precise and devastating, leaving no room for complacency. Her movements were a blur, a testament to her unmatched skill. Every time I thought I had found a rhythm, she would switch tactics, keeping me on the edge and pushing me to my limits. I was tempted to use Reinforcement in order to gain some form of advantage, but found no point in doing so; she'll just beat me to the floor regardless.

Some steps away, Cú and Ferdiad could be seen lying on the ground, unmoving. Had it not been for the slow rise and fall of their chest, I would've thought they've moved on to the afterlife with how battered they looked. Before me was the cause of their current condition—the Witch of Dun Scáith. She rushed at me with a crazed smile, spear in hand.

"God, hear my cries—I'd appreciate it if you provide this lost lamb of yours some help," I prayed to the Almighty out of desperation as the butt of her spear smashed into my face, the impact of which robbed my conciousness.

---

"God, you did not help at all. It seems I've been forsaken by the Lord," I voiced out in complaint tinged with a hint of mirth. Not like I expected the Abrahamic God himself to heed my call and come down from the Heavens. Suddenly, a rather ludicrous idea flew across my head; perhaps if I wish for it hard enough, the System might bring one of His angels here. The mystical interface hasn't failed me yet, so maybe it's possible? Food for thought.

Anyways, I was currently taking refuge inside the Fortress' large library, massaging my aching muscles while sitting comfortably on a plush couch. Many days had passed since first stepping foot through Dun Scáith's gates, and I've more or less grown used to Scáthach's daily delivery of senseless beatdowns.

Her methods was rough but not ineffective. Despite the cruel lessons Scáthach imposed, I learned a great deal. If you compared my reflexes and muscle memory then to now, the difference would be staggering. Not to mention my mastery over the spear. Thanks to the System, I absorbed most of what she taught like a sponge, even earning a rare compliment from the sadistic woman.

Fortunately, Scáthach understood the importance of rest and allowed us to do our own things after training sessions. Exploring my temporary abode, I was fascinated by it. The castle was huge and surprisingly well-maintained, without a smidgen of tarnish in sight. When I asked how she kept the place clean and proper, Scáthach revealed that it was the work of some runes she had inscribed all over the place, which piqued my interest. This brings us to why I'm sitting in the library.

Clasped in my hand was a book about runes—the art of evoking magical phenomena by writing special symbols infused with magical energy. Cú and Ferdiad, being the natural geniuses that they are, had become quite proficient with it… unlike me. Due to my body's unique properties, some finer details faded from my consciousness, making it harder for me to learn the craft. But I persisted, determined to learn whatever I could from this place, whether it was immediately useful or not.

Speaking of the two, I craned my neck to peek outside the window and saw the aforementioned duo throwing rocks at each other at high speeds in the garden. Looking closer, I noticed a rune carved into the stone's surface, emitting a faint shimmer—Ansuz, a rune that makes things spontaneously combust. As expected, the pebbles glowed before bursting into flames upon impact, exploding with enough force to knock Ferdiad off his feet but not seriously injure him.

"Haha! I won!" The Child of Light cheered, pumping his fist in the air. Ferdiad sighed, picked himself up, and dusted off his ruffled clothes, not at all disheartened by his loss. The two young men then went on to find other ways to pass the time, something I wasn't particularly interested in finding out. My eyes went back to the scripts in hand, studying them with rapt attention. As soon as I flipped to another page, a clear screen appeared before me, accompanied by a small pocket of knowledge about Runes entering my mind.

[Skill 'Runecraft' has leveled up to E - 2]

'Goodness me, this is taking way too long,' I grumbled internally. As much as I wanted to whine about the slowness of it, however, there was no changing it. Standing, I snapped the book shut and placed it back on the shelf, content with today's progress in Runecraft.

Emerging from the information den, I trotted across the unnecessarily wide aisles of Dun Scáith and entered the kitchen to prepare tonight's dinner. Ever since the first day, I had taken on the responsibility of cooking as Scáthach couldn't care less. Cú and Ferdiad seemed happy with this arrangement, so I had no problem doing it. Some time later, a tantalizing smell filled the air as I carried the freshly made cuisine into the dining hall, where a pair of hungry teens waited patiently for me to finish setting the dishes down. They're not jumping immediately to take a bite, good. I had to beat it into their heads not to disrupt me during this process.

Smiling, I gave them permission to eat. They practically threw themselves at the table the next instant, shoving food into their mouths until their cheeks were full, lost in their own world. Used to their antics, I joined them shortly. As we ate, an unexpected addition entered the scene—Scáthach. She passed through the doorway dressed in her recognizable bodysuit, her sharp gaze sweeping across the room.

"Ooh! Teach, you gotta try Shirou's food! Not even Ma makes stuff this good!" Cú exclaimed while chowing down on a chunky chicken leg, earning him a light smack from me for talking with his mouth full. Ferdiad, sitting next to him, wisely kept his mouth shut to avoid my ire.

"Fancy seeing you here. Want a bite?" I asked the Scottish woman, ignoring the growling demi-god. This was the first time I had seen her enter the dining hall; usually, she would wander off and only return when our next lesson was about to start. So it surprised me a little to see her here.

"Hm," she hummed, eyeing the array of food on the table. To amuse her student, she picked up a piece of chicken. Scrutinizing the item, she thought, 'Not like it matters.' Scáthach no longer needed to eat; her body had long transcended such mortal needs. This was why she rarely visited this part of the castle. However, there was another reason she almost never came here—her sense of taste had long been lost, one of the many consequences of her immortal body. It did not matter if she ate the most delicious cuisine or the most vile, she wouldn't be able to tell the difference either way.

She brought the meat to her mouth and bit into it, expecting nothing. But as she swallowed, she found herself stunned. There was no flavour, but she felt a wave of warmth surge through her entire being. She quickly realized what it was—emotions, something she hadn't felt in a long time. For reasons she could not fathom, images of her childhood swiftly passed through her mind. And for a brief moment, a spark of vigour filled her empty eyes before disappearing just as quickly. In her mind, that fleeting moment was nothing more than an illusion, so she buried it away like everything else.

"You okay?" I inquired, noticing her odd behavior, wholly unaware of her internal turmoil. Shaking her head, Scáthach turned and exited the hall without uttering another word. Looking at my companions, I asked worriedly, "Did I do something wrong?" Cú Chulainn and Ferdiad shrugged and went back to feasting. Pushing it aside, I emptied my plate as well.

The next morning, we were called to a specific location in the wilderness with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Upon arrival, we found no trace of Scáthach. With nothing to do but wait, we idled around until we heard a thunderous noise—a hill's worth of boar-like beasts the size of a house were stomping toward our position, flattening everything in their path. Thinking quickly, I crouched low and leaped into the air, landing atop a high branch and seamlessly blending in with the surroundings, avoiding the stampede. The others, however, weren't as fast and were swept up by the incoming horde.

"Hey! That's not fair, Shirou. Help us or something!" Cú shouted as he tried to escape from the tide of beasts, with Ferdiad following closely behind, both of them dodging and weaving through the chaos.

"Get good," I responded smugly. But the grin on my face quickly vanished, replaced by one of utter terror as a distinctly feminine voice sounded from behind me.

"What's this I see? A pupil of mine slacking?" Turning my head, I saw Scáthach perched on a nearby branch, her eerie smile caused a strong jolt crawl up my spine. I can make a guess on why those beasts came running here.

"Now hang on a minute, I promise you I'm not slacking off—!" I began to protest, but the God Slayer didn't give me a chance to offer any excuses.

"Get in there," she commanded. She raised her slender leg and kicked me off the branch, sending me hurtling down into the middle of the chaos below. I landed with a loud thud, my graceless dive catching the attention of everything within a ten-meter radius.

The Scottish woman's sight remained on the redhead for a bit longer, her eyes studying something otherworldly hovering over the young man like a protective layer, before choosing to retreat into the shadows, observing the mess unfold. She'll get her answer in due time.

Swiftly rising to my feet, I sprinted away, deftly weaving through the woods. The sounds of the stampede roared behind me, the earth shaking with the weight of the beasts. Branches snapped, and leaves were torn from the trees as the boar-like creatures relentlessly pursued me.

Unbeknownst to me, Scáthach had planted a small object—a lure—into my clothes that garnered the majority of the beasts' attention. The boars, their eyes wild with fury and confusion, followed the scent trail. I could hear Cú and Ferdiad somewhere behind me, their own struggles evident in their frantic shouts and heavy footsteps. Only after the beasts began to tire did I realize what she had done to me.

Much, much later after our forest escapades, we returned home. The three of us stumbled into the Fortress' bathhouse, our bodies—well, it's actually mostly them who were covered in dirt and scratches. I stripped off my clothes and wrapped a towel to my lower half with Cú and Ferdiad did much the same, groaning. We sank into the bath, letting the heat soothe our weary muscles.

"Curse that woman and her sadistic tendencies," I hissed, my exasperated voice bouncing around the bathhouse. Leaning against the pool's walls, I asked the pair of battle maniacs in front of me, "What? Why're you looking at me like that?"

"Don't mind me, just appreciating the view," Ferdiad cooed, letting out his honest thoughts. Shirou had a beauty second only to their teacher, so Ferdiad didn't mind looking at it for a prolonged period.

On the other hand, Cú sank deeper into the pool with a flustered look, his cheeks tinted deep red as an image of Shirou's bare figure popped into his head. Without warning, the water around him started to gain enough heat to steam. Before we could even react, the pool erupted into a blast, spraying water all over the place.

Gasping, I pulled the unconscious demi-god out of the bath, water dripping from both of us. Ferdiad and I stood there in stunned silence, steam rising around us like swirling clouds.

"What just happened?" Ferdiad asked, his shock evident as he looked at the hot body of water and then at Cú's unconscious form.

"Don't ask me, man. I don't know." I just shook my head, unable to provide an answer. If I had a penny every time Cú Chulainn passed out just by looking at me, I'd have two pennies. It isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

END.​

A/N: The quality of this just took a dive. Whoops.

 

[lucamura]

Quality seems consistent, I'm pretty happy with this chapter.

Thanks

 

[Poke_verse]

Quality seems the same to me.

Archer's reaction to SaberShioru is gonna be amazing

 

[Orchamus]

Huh, long chapter is long. Also keep nda wish someone would actually make Avalon turn Shirou into a redheaded Arturia. Her expression when summoned would be fantastic

 

[OverReactionGuy]

Soon he would actually become female. The soul corruption is set in motion and there is no escape just like how Gray looks more and more like saber. He shall be the perfect tomboy saberface and no one would believe he was a guy in the first place.

And Cu being an innocent maiden at heart isn't something I thought I would see but its something.

 

[diriatzin]

Soon he would actually become female. The soul corruption is set in motion and there is no escape just like how Gray looks more and more like saber. He shall be the perfect tomboy saberface and no one would believe he was a guy in the first place.

And Cu being an innocent maiden at heart isn't something I thought I would see but its something.

Click to shrink...

Come the HGW and Cu will just faint upon seeing Shirou on reflex lmao

 

[OverReactionGuy]

Come the HGW and Cu will just faint upon seeing Shirou on reflex lmao

Click to shrink...

And thus shirou wins by default.

 

[diriatzin]

And thus shirou wins by default.

Click to shrink...

Half the opponents will be stunned by the Saber-face alone in the HGW.

Shirou'll need to be careful, otherwise he's one hair dye away from having Gilgamesh, the delusional man, mistake him for his "wife"

 

[Dunno.]

I was talking about how I structured this chapter. I think I could've done better. Welp.

 

[Da0L1]

He better start bulking, gotta get that yujiro hanma physique if he wants to stop being a twink.