บท 5: Chapter 5
- "Trace. On."
Love is such a fleeting emotion, and yet it's one of the strongest types that can last a lifetime. His new Master may not be the same woman whom he'd come to cherish and dedicate himself fully towards; however, seeing that appearance, that smile, and that unmistakable candor and liveliness on a face that was identical to her own forced to tears in his presence…it would be a lie to say that Shirou didn't feel anything.
The emotions and aspirations that made him who he was in life as a Nameless Hero came striving towards the surface.
If it was for her, then nothing was insurmountable.
So, don't show that face. Don't show that sad sight.
In an instant, his figure appeared before her in a shower of golden sand; his shadow painting across her anxious features as she stared down upon him.
The enemy rages forth and strikes upon the gates of his bottom line. Its tusks were pillars, its sheer bulk, a mountain threatening to collapse and trample all before it, but in its way, he stood back tall, lips thinned, and hawk-like gaze narrowed in consternation.
The fragility he could see in his Master's expression, the tremors coursing through her body, all of it struck right at the heart.
His hands balled into fists, clenching tightly before allowing his fingers to unfurl while reaching towards an unseen void. His muscles tensed, his focus heightening beyond the limitations of mortal man.
The ground shook beneath his feet, the air a hurricane of divine force that billowed fiercely at his defiant form.
From deep within his resolve raged; from deep within his will would manifest; sparking into life like embers lit from a hammer striking upon the anvil of a grand armoury.
One was a single man while across from him was a divine boar embodying a concept of destruction. Though miniscule in comparison, the broadness of his back, the valiance of his form, and the intent behind his actions were all seen or felt through the connection he shared with his Master who was surely watching him.
The boar charged, its hooves digging grooves into the earth.
From behind him, a small tug felt at the precipice of confrontation alerted him to his Master standing unsurely by his side. Her knees were wobbling, her complexion devoid of colour while she pursed her lips. She was terrified, and yet still she'd found the will to concern herself with him. This moral character and righteousness were the same as his Saber's.
"Y-You can't take that on. W-We have to run away," Arturia stuttered.
The boar's presence and aura were overbearing and unrestrained, much more than his own which he'd been keeping controlled.
Yet did that mean that he was weak? No, it just meant that he wasn't some wild beast.
The boar was charging from a considerable distance, and by his estimates, it would arrive within seconds at most. There wasn't any time to leave to begin with due to his Master's physical limitations as a normal human.
He shook his head at Arturia, and gently coaxed her to remain at his back. He could do nothing about her crestfallen demeanor and helpless anxiety other than to swiftly and decisively resolve this matter.
More than any words of comfort, his actions would say it all.
The hold he'd been keeping on his presence gradually loosened, releasing a towering flame-like aura that stretched up into the horizon. The change was instant, the flow of energy within him pulsing in his blood like an unrelenting torrent.
"Huh?"
An unmistakable gasp was uttered from Arturia's mouth. Unlike the surrounding area which was violently blasted away by fierce gales, the area she stood within remained entirely untouched, enshrouded by a barrier of his energy.
There's no need for your worry.
His hands pushed out, grabbing onto the tusks of the boar as it made impact. His knees buckled, his feet puncturing the ground while veins popped over his skin. Power rushed into his form, the cracks over the pavement splintering into thin webs while dust and debris began to hover.
There's no need for your fear.
Intermittent flashes of light gave way to a fierce struggle in which he leveraged himself against the boar's sheer mass.
Because none of that matters when I stand before you.
His gaze sharpened, his legs bracing themselves as his body entered a pivot and lifted the boar off of its feet, taking Arturia utterly aback.
This world's magic system was different from that which he knew from the beginning. Though foreign to him, there was an innate sense of how to draw upon it carved within his very manifestation. He need only will it.
The boar's rancid breath washed over him as Reinforcement magic did its job and a flurry of circuit-like patterns lit up beneath his skin.
More strength. More power, a voice whispered slowly.
Speak it out. Write upon the blank canvas of this world and assert your dominance!
Reveal the might of Authority!
"I am the bone of my sword."
His eyes grew bloodshot, his blood pumping furiously through his arteries. A glow emerged from around him, growing in intensity by the second until it was blinding. His bones creaked, his muscles rippling as the might construed from the world's laws guided him towards the foundation of this world's divine principles.
Magic? It existed here in this world, but not as contemporary force easily accessed, but one that was borrowed.
His manifestation was no different. In fact, it relegated him towards a certain inclination based on the 'legend' he stepped out of into reality.
"I am steel that knows no fear! Steel that doth not bend, break, nor shatter!"
The words garnered resonance, and were spoken not of his own volition, but screamed in representation of his current status.
"My steel will crush you!"
Cracks formed over the boar's tusk as his grip over them grew stronger and stronger in tandem with the rising ferocity and valor of his station.
"My steel will obliterate you!"
He took a step forward, planting his knee over the boar's snout and pressing it violently onto the earth as he began to tug at the boar's tusks with his bear arms. The pavement already cracked and broken directly exploded into pieces of shrapnel.
"My steel will put an end to all obstacles!"
The noise of bones splintering reverberated as the two tusks in his hand were directly pried off and callously tossed to the side where they dissipated into embers.
"I. Am. The. Strongest Steel!"
He shifted his knee then grabbed the boar by its fiery mane and hurled it up into the air. Its pained squeals were offset by its roar of rage. At the same time, its towering figure had become the size of a basketball up in the horizon.
Shirou felt the strength of before begin to subside with that final declaration, and yet this skirmish wasn't over as the boar reached the apex of its trajectory and came right back down, a fiery meteor of wrath.
His fingers twitched, the lock of a gun clicking in place in his mind.
"I-It's coming back," Arturia warned, still reeling from everything that had transpired.
"It doesn't matter," he replied calmly. He made a promise that no harm would come to her. "I am by your side."
He watched her listen to his words, not knowing what she was thinking, yet he had no time to focus on her for any longer, missing the way her eyes seemed to glaze over.
Taking in a breath, his figure stilled while a black bow as tall as he was high appeared in his left hand, and a drill-like sword manifested on the other.
His legs shifted shoulder width apart, one at his back and the other at his front while he straightened himself into a stout posture. Familiar movements born from memory allowed him to take the necessary steps of Tracing, but there was an unknown aspect mixed in.
It was hazy, blurred, and difficult to comprehend, but it pertained to the changes in his status as a Servant.
He belonged to his world no longer, having stepped out of that story.
Authority.
This one word was at the crux of all things supernatural in this reality.
It was the very driving force of it all, and he'd just experienced it a moment ago. Though he lacked comprehension, that feeling was still fresh in his mind.
He let it direct his Tracing; to let it explode forth and run freely in line with the anger he felt on his Master's behalf.
"O Sword guided by rage, twist and bend!"
His voice was the command, his will the Authority found within his connection to this legendary weapon of the rainbows.
The twisted sword in his right hand thrummed in response; the message all but clear.
The sword of Welsh origin would sing in the throes of madness born from being denied revenge.
"Make them pay for their treachery and blast them away!"
He notched the sword onto his bow and aimed with unerring accuracy. The power coalesced around this one shot warping the area around it.
"Caladbolg!"
The twang of a bow string echoed before an explosion occurred high up in the clouds. The shockwave produced shattered the glass of buildings and sent tremors through the ground. The sight of a giant boar exploding in a haze of violent light was impossible to miss.
The hidden magical societies were going to have their work cut out for them, but this wasn't Shirou's main concern.
He dismissed his bow and eased the tension in his body. The matter was over for the time being as he couldn't sense anymore attacks coming his way. More importantly, his Master had endured enough for a day.
As if all her strings had been cut loose, Arturia fell forward towards him passing out in relief in his arms.
The situation must have been tough on her, especially because she was just an ordinary person uninvolved in magic of any kind. This really was just too much for her all at once…and there had to be a reason.
Shirou finally fixed his attention on the only other girl who could have been involved in this matter, and gave her a long and deep stare filled with all kinds of meaning. He could sense that there was another individual watching him closely nearby, ready to take action if he turned hostile.
An enemy Servant? In which case, did that make Erica a Master?
His expression hardened callously.
Erica Blandeli surely noticed the change and swallowed nervously, the calm of her eyes hiding the trepidation she was feeling before him. She bowed submissively, her mouth opening to speak.
He gave her no chance to reply or explain.
They were already past that point because what was done was done and Arturia was still his priority. He couldn't risk a fight right here and now, as this wasn't the time.
Cradling Arturia in his arms, he left without another word.
Erica felt the oppressive feeling weighing down on her shoulders vanish the moment this unknown Heretic God decided to leave. However, she felt far from relieved and couldn't help but bite the nail of her thumb.
A God of Steel.
Heretic Gods that have stepped out from their legends could be divided into several distinct types, however, the most troublesome were those orientated towards destruction and conquest.
These were the Gods of Steel that embody the concept of swords in their myth with veiled references towards tempering their mettle through repeated forging in war.
Needless to say, but their Authorities were always guaranteed to hold incomparable offensive power as well as near indestructible bodies. This one had literally torn the Boar's incarnation with its bare hands.
It was strong. There were no doubts about this point, and the timing couldn't have been anymore convenient considering the event that shocked the magic community the day prior. Even with hr level of authority in the Copper-Black Cross organization she wasn't authorized to know the context behind the prophecy spoken by the Witch of the Witenagamot
Could this Heretic God be related to that event?
There was a chance, but she'd be a fool to jump to conclusions.
"Are you alright?" A voice snapped her out of her musings, and she glanced up to see Godou making his way towards her.
He looked uncharacteristically serious, and didn't even grow flustered at her current state of duress.
"I'll manage," she said evenly. "It's seems that I was right that there was something odd about Ms. Pendragon. Turns out a Heretic God was hiding close to her, and this one is a God of Steel at that."
"God of Steel?" Godou could vaguely recall the term being mentioned before, but he hadn't actually been taking his new role as a Campione all that seriously yet.
"Steel Godou. Steel is important as it characterizes immortality on the battlefield," Erica explained solemnly "These are also a characteristic of Steel: God of the military, god of might, god of war, god of battle. Gods born to fight belong to the category known as Steel, Godou, and this one is no exception. Try to recall Mr. Salvatore's Authorities and you'll understand why Gods of Steel are troublesome."
Godou shut his mouth and grimaced at the reminder. "Do you know who he is?" He asked after a moment of thought.
Erica had long been pondering over that issue. "Based on the name of his weapon, an assumption comes to mind which could explain why he's attached himself to Ms. Pendragon."
Erica fiddled for something in her school bag and eventually produced a smart phone. Typing fast on her fingers, she searched up information on a certain myth born in Ireland and gave it to Godou to view.
"Fergus mac Róich of the Celts," she narrated with her arms crossed while letting Godou skim through the details provided on the internet. "…He's a known womanizer."
Godou stilled as he processed the implications of that last statement.
"Then Arturia's in danger?" He said with concern.
Erica couldn't refute this even if she wanted to. There were way too many examples of God getting involved with humans both in history and in legend.
"Worse, she may not even know it. Numerous Heretic Gods such as Zeus and Poseidon have the means to bewitch fair women, and Ms. Pendragon is a stunning sort of beauty that must have attracted this Heretic God over." Erica frowned, traces of regret marring her features as she recalled Arturia's reaction to Divine power. "Damnit she was just a normal civilian," she muttered her breath.
Suddenly she blinked. If this was the case, why did Arturia act as if she had something to hide? Did she perhaps know that there a Heretic God beside her all along?
"We just have to rescue her somehow," Godou proposed, failing to see the peculiar expression on Erica's face.
"Hold on a bit," she furrowed her brows and frowned.
"What's the problem?" Godou felt like he couldn't keep still knowing that something dangerous may occur to his new classmate.
Erica's concerns were a tad different. Putting aside Arturia's matter and focusing on the Heretic God in question, something came to mind.
"The thing is, I don't believe things are this simple," Erica concluded.
Fergus wasn't exactly the most powerful of the Gods of Steel, so it made no sense for him to boldly claim to be the strongest of them like what had just happened.
Something wasn't right here, and based on the look the Heretic God had given her, it was best to prepare for retaliation.
Things weren't over.
Perhaps she really should have listened to Godou on this matter? Now it was out of everyone's hands.
She shivered.
She'd need to ask the History Compilation Committee for their input as Japan was in their jurisdiction.
The appearance of a Heretic God was never a good sign because sooner or later, they will fall to their curse of madness.
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Arturia was dreaming again. Unknown to her, but the day's events had stirred something from deep within her, leading to such developments.
She was standing in an idyllic country side filled with long grass and swaying stocks of golden wheat in the distant hills. A soft wind was blowing across her face, causing strands of her hair to lift passed her shoulders.
A sword lodged in a stone was present before her and surrounded by a man-made platform contained within an area outlined by flowers.
Royal blue and gold adorned the sword's hilt, the luster of its blade almost golden in the twilight sun. It felt like it was calling to her, beckoning her forth, but she didn't move and only continued to stare at it.
Everything she was seeing was just so weird, more so when she looked at herself and realized she was in medieval tunic and trousers. A chest pad was worn over her shoulders and secured in place by leather straps. The trousers were like overalls tucked into a pair of armoured boots over her feet.
She couldn't make sense of what was happening or why she was here, but as dreams were, they didn't have to make sense. However, she felt compelled by something in this one.
Blinking as she looked at the peculiar sword, a man suddenly appeared in a flurry of roses.
Merlin?
The white hair and aloof nature of the man who was practically her perverted uncle couldn't be mistaken.
What was with the gaudy white robes, black staff, and all the petals though?
It looked so strange on Merlin who prided himself on keeping up with the latest trends to stay in fashion for the ladies.
She watched longer and soon noticed that Merlin was looking solemnly at her while shaking his head. His lips were moving, his arms motioning towards her, but all the same, she could hear nothing.
He was speaking, but she couldn't understand.
The wind began to grow fiercer and fiercer, the gentle breeze turning cold and biting. A flash of decisiveness appeared in Merlin's eyes and gradually, he began to mouth the words he wished to speak such that a flurry of petals made their way towards her.
What-What was he saying?
A petal brushed by her ear.
Finally, she heard one distinct sentence resound in her mind.
"Have you slept enough, My King?"
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