35 The 9th World Champion Tournament 5
Standing within the dark, narrow passageway that led into the arena, Shirou stood in wait. From the shadows, he could hear the commentator's attempts at banter, the cheers of the crowd, and even distantly, he could convince himself he heard his guildmates show their support.
Yet, in this singular moment of solitude, his mind was elsewhere. In the conversation he'd held with a ghost from his past, the truths he spoke that even now he struggled to accept and even the present he'd been given. It was an incredible amount to process, too much, some would say. And with such a high-stakes event at play, the pressure only mounted.
A tempestuous storm of emotions brewed within him, enough to rack a lesser man to the point of catatonic crippleness and make even the greatest tremble in trepidation. Yet, for all the dissonance, it brought forth an unyielding sense of distant clarity unseen before within the magus.
They were still there, dwelling within, but now wasn't the time for them. Not with what was at stake.
Even as distant as he felt, trapped in a spiral of worry and self-doubt, his fist tightened. For better or worse, he'd made his choices and mistakes. What he wanted in the future was irrelevant, as the doubts that existed within were buried under a mind of steel.
In a high-stakes fight between equals, a split-second distraction or hesitation could define the difference between victory and defeat.
Losing was, and would never be, an option for him.
There'll be time afterward to sort his emotional baggage out. To finally put his old ghost to rest and decide once and for all...
But, here and now, he had a tournament to win, and not even the pain of his guilt could dull his blades.
"IT'S HIGH TIME FOR THE FIRST MATCH! AND WHAT A MATCH-UP WE HAVE HERE TODAY FOLKS TO KICK IT ALL OFF!"
"Indeed. For this opening match, we'll be starting with none other than one of the most infamous Players that have ever graced this digital landscape! He, who has had his share of mystery and embroiled in his fair share of controversy, but a man that none can deny his skills. The question is, will it be enough here today?"
"RIGHT YOU ARE SAMMIE! KNOWN AS THE BOOGEYMAN OF THE NINE REALMS. PISSING OFF WHO KNOWS HOW MANY PLAYERS ACROSS THE YEARS AND KEPT ON CHUGGING ALONG! HE, WHO HAS BEEN VOTED THE MOST HATED PLAYER IN ALL OF YGGDRASIL FOR 7 YEARS AND RUNNING!"
Shirou couldn't help but blink at that particular tidbit. There was some online screening poll where people could vote on Players they hated?
He didn't know whether to feel proud or wounded by the achievement, if one would call it that.
"GIVE IT UP FOR THE ONE, THE ONLY, THE PLAYER KILLER HIMSELF: EMIYAAAAAAA!"
Following the explosive introduction, Shirou stepped forward and out through the entryway towards the inner arena. Pyrotechnics and smoke accompanied his reveal from the entrance, making his presence a spectacle to behold as he made his appearance. The holographic screens captured his every step, broadcasting him for all to see.
Emiya – Lvl: 100 — [The Player Killer]
Thousands upon thousands of voices reverberated the moment he graced the field, the air itself shaking from the cacophony of voices. The majority of the noise was negative, with a plethora of insults, disparaging jeers, and all other manners of boo's thrown his way. It more than drowned out those who were actively cheering him on.
Despite overwhelming hostilities thrown his way, Shirou strode forward with steady steps as easily as one would stroll down a tranquil park. It was hardly anything new. It would take more than disgruntled animosity to make him lose his cool, no matter their numbers.
"Against a Player with a report as skilled as Emiya, who will have the honor of fighting against such an opponent?"
"GIVEN THAT WE ALL SAW THE FIGHTERS PICK THEIR SPOT, WE ALREADY KNOW WHO HE IS!" AND LET ME TELL YA, HE'S GONNA ROCK YOUR WORLD!"
Following the commentator's words, Shirou's attention was drawn towards the boisterous sound of whooping and hollers emanating from the direction of the entrance ahead of him. He turned his gaze upwards and saw the enthusiastic audience members seated above and adjacent to the entrance, energetically standing and wildly waving their arms and flags in the air. The sound of their stomping feet reverberated through the arena, creating an anthem-like atmosphere to welcome his opponent.
"This Player has a track record of his own, of over a six-hundred PvP matches, and no more than fifteen recorded losses in his entire career. He has won numerous tournaments and has even been a fighter in one of the previous World Champion Tournaments. It's time to see if he has what it takes to bring the title home. Given such names as The Great Goliath, The Unstoppable, or perhaps what he was better known as, "The Mountain that Crushes!" For he is, The Mountain!"
"—AND THE GUY WHO STILL OWNS ME 10,000 YEN!"
"That is beside the point—"
"THAT BASTARD HAS BEEN GHOSTING ME FOR OVER A MONTH NOW! I WANT MY MONEY, SAMMY, YOU PIECE OF SH—"
Sounds of struggle could be heard over the speakers as the announcers fought over the mic.
The entryway ahead of Shirou exploded into pyrotechnics and special effects, welcoming the Player, as the first of his many opponents made his entrance.
The Mountain – Lvl: 100 — [The Mountain that Crushes]
The Mountain certainly lived up to his name, as the Player was massive in size, eclipsing Shirou's height, and could rival Berserker in terms of sheer bulk. The Player was a mountain of a man, almost to the point of monstrousness with his towering physique and boundless muscles. A caricature of what one would picture as the pinnacle of fitness and strength.
The Player's attire consisted of a dark blue open-chest jacket vest and dark trousers, all of high quality. A thick fur mantle hung from his shoulders, made from the pelt of a Frozen Saber Fang, a level 100 mob that resided in the icy regions of Niflheim, which Shirou recognized. Tribal battle tattoos adorned much of his exposed skin, running down his broad chest and powerful log-like arms. He had two powerful-looking gauntlets equipped, with a piston-like contraption at the wrist. The Mountain had lengthy, spiky hair that was roguish in appearance and trailed down his back like the mane of a ferocious lion. He also had a long scar that ran from the top of his head, passed the left side of his eye, and ended at the base of his neck, which only complimented his battle-hardened appearance.
The Mountain swaggered forth, pausing here and there to flex, waving to the crowd or beckoning them. He took his time, making a show of it, which only served to rile the audience up to his side.
"Hit me if you can! If you smell... What! The Mountain! Is! Cooking!"
The audience erupted into further roars and cheers following his rallying cry. They chanted his name as he stood in the arena, soaking in the audience's adoration and roaring support. He struck more poses, showing off to the audience. It was a complete 180° compared to how they received the magus the first time.
Shirou briefly wondered if The Mountain was that well-liked or simply if everyone was rallying for him because they were against the magus. He'd wager it was probably a mixture of both.
The Mountain raised a single finger to the sky before levying it toward Shirou.
"Let me tell ya somethin' Mista Cool and Stoic! Ya may be big, but you ain't bad! Ya may be tough, but ya ain't The Mountain tough!" The Mountain exclaimed, his voice thick and exaggerated. It was loud enough to be heard even without the assistance of the speakers.
"Ya better have insurance on that equipment, 'cause ya takin' a one-way trip on the Pain Express and this baby ain't got no rails! Oh yeah! Ya gonna need an excavation crew to rescue ya, 'cause The Mountain's gonna win this by a landslide! Ya'll be buried deeper than six feet! You feel me fool?!"
Following his string of one-liners, Shirou chose to keep his silence, observing it all with a passive stare as the audience threw their voice in with the titanic Player. His lack of response only further emboldened the brawler's badgering.
"Scared, little man? Well, I don't blame ya. For you're up against The Mountain!" The Player flexed his gargantuan body, muscles rippling through his forearms, biceps, and pectorals.
"Mah fists are illegal in seven out of the nine realms, and after this, they'll be eight! OH YEAH! Not even ya mama'll recognize ya when I'm through with ya! Ya may have ya bows and shit, exploding stuff all ya like, but ya know what's more powerful?"
The Mountain flexed again, showing off his biceps to the crowd with another pose.
"THESE GUNS! OH, YEAH! I hope ya packed a suit, cause ya ain't going anywhere but the morgue!"
Again, Shirou didn't react, save for an unseen raised brow at all the showboating. He wondered just how much longer before the actual fighting would begin. It has been scarcely a minute, and already the Player's voice and attitude grated the magus's patience.
Seeing his words having little effect on him, The Mountain scoffed.
"What's da matter, too chicken to speak up?" He mocked, and the audience followed up with loud chicken noises.
"The Mountain heard about ya', the great Player Killer, the bane of all Humanoid Players. There are even some who have the audacity to claim that ya' are among the strongest. Pah! Nothing more than the whining of noobs and losers! Seeing ya' in person, The Mountain can't help but be disappointed."
An emoticon looking down in disgust appeared over The Mountain. Despite seeing that his words were bouncing off of Shirou like a rock against a steel wall, he continued, rambling.
"The Mountain woulda a tiny bit of respect for ya if ya' had not thrown your lot in with the freaks. And not just any ol' freak, but fucking Ainz Ooal Gown itself! Ya' a damned traitor to your kind! Though The Mountain supposed that it only made sense that a monster lover like you would be in bed with the guild of freakazoids."
For the first time, Shirou reacted. His eyebrows twitched, his lips curving into a frown. Not that anyone was able to notice it.
"The Mountain made a name for himself by crushing any sorry excuse for a Player thrown my way. From the very beginning, none was considered my equal or a threat. In this tournament, The Mountain's gonna show the world and everyone who's the best around! Tha' Mountain' is going to demonstrate what a true World Champion is like! For The Mountain's a superhuman among lesser men. The Mountain—"
"Talks too much, has anyone ever told you that?"
Though his voice was not overpowering, it possessed a subdued strength. It cleaved through the man's diatribe and was heard despite all the clamor around them. The audience quieted down slightly, curious to watch the exchange between them.
"He speaks!" The Player let out a mocking guffaw. "And here, The Mountain thought you might be mute or something."
Shirou cast a cool gaze toward him. His posture shifted slightly as his hand rested on his waist.
"You say you've found no equal, but it's been the opposite for me. For most of my life, I've fought against harsh and all-but-impossible odds. Against opponents who outstripped me in every regard. Honestly, I sometimes wonder to myself how I'm even still alive."
A soft chuckle tinged with nostalgia followed his words, drawing some confusion from those in the audience. He glanced up at the skies above, reminiscing.
"Better and stronger foes have tried their hands. And yet, here I stand, here I remain. Victorious among them all. You say you're disappointed. Well, I feel the same. Standing before me, here and now, I can tell. Mountain-san, you aren't superhuman or whatever spiel it is you believe yourself to be. No, you've simply been blessed with weak opponents."
Shirou allowed a pause before facing The Mountain in full.
"Until today."
A split-second silence engulfed the field and stadium before the world exploded into noise.
"OHHHHH SNAP! SOMEONE GET THAT MAN A POTION FOR THAT BURRRNNNNN! SHEEEEESH! HE'S NOT ONLY HERE KILLING PLAYERS, BUT HE'S ALSO THROWING SOME KILLER SHADE AS WELL! THEY DON'T CALL HIM THE PLAYER KILLER FOR NOTHING!" Bob screamed out.
Tens of thousands of voices quickly rose following Shirou's riposte. A majority were comprised of boo's and heckling, but there was a small vocal portion that was dissing The Mountain – Ainz Ooal Gown was firmly in this group.
Was it necessary for Shirou to engage him the way he did? No, not really.
Was it a bit theatric? Most certainly.
Were Shirou the only target of The Mountain's cavalcade of insults, the magus would've resolved himself to keep his silence, and that would be the end of that. But he didn't stop at him. He targeted Ainz Ooal Gown. The Mountain insulted his friends. And that, he did not forgive so easily. So he retaliated in kind.
"Big words coming from such a little man." The Mountain sneered.
"Perhaps. But what are you going to do about it, The Pebble?" Shirou egged on, smirking.
The magus swore he heard a vein pop from his forehead.
"Is that so?" Shirou could feel the simmering anger laced in his words as the giant glared daggers at him. "Let's see ya' talk big again when The Mountain breaks in fucking your face!"
"Then come, Goliath. Come and slay your David if you can, that is." Shirou coolly returned, two fingers curling in a "come at me" gesture.
"I believe we've waited long enough. We've seen a battle of words. Now, it's time for action! And I, for one, can't wait to see how the Players will use the new physics implementation to their advantage."
'New physics?' Shirou wondered. This piece of information was news to him, and he could only assume that the announcement must've been made when he was speaking with Zelretch.
Following the commentator's announcement, the arena floor glowed beneath their feet and spread, encompassing them. A familiar sensation washed over him, and in a flash of light, Shirou and his opponent found themselves elsewhere.
He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the sudden change, only for them to narrow. He could feel the dry gust of wind, bringing with it scattered grains of sand.
As far as the eye could see, a vast and sprawling expanse of desert rolled out, with its golden sands forming gentle, undulating dunes that seemed to go on forever. A scatter of sandy ruins could be seen across the overworld. The scorching sun, with its unrelenting heat, cast a radiant glow on the sandy terrain, making it shimmer like gold. Amidst this lifeless ocean of sand, the towering presence of a magnificent pyramid loomed in the far-off distance, its grandeur and mystique only adding to the allure of the desert landscape.
'This is the same as when I was with Zelretch... No, not exactly...' He realized.
The sensation was similar but not quite the same.
When it came to DMMO-RPGs, there were certain regulations put in place to prevent the line between realism and virtual reality from being blurred any more than it already was. However, for this World Champion Tournament, it would seem that they were willing to skirt the law a little for the sake of making the competition more captivating. This was evident by the curious confusion that dominated The Mountain's avatar, which was usually adorned with a static cocksure grin, as he marveled at the changes.
"Woah..." He whispered to himself.
The Mountain looked around. He could almost taste the dryness of the air, feel the scorching heat waves prickling against his skin, and hear the rolling winds and movement of gritty sand against his ear. It felt authentic but muted enough to prevent the Player's senses from distinguishing it as too real. The last thing the developers needed was the Player's mind tricking itself into thinking it was real, especially in the case of pain.
Back in the stadium, there was a large, oddly transparent orb that held a reflective surface of where they were. Numerous large holographic screens filled the air, capturing and displaying high-definition footage of the two combatants and the battlefield in real-time from various angles.
Many within the audience discussed what they saw, noting the subtle cues and differences in the visible expressions that the two Players showed. It was certainly a notch above when compared to the previous tournaments.
A depth of realism had been added, which introduced an X factor to the matches, and all were curious to see how it might influence the fights to come.
A duel timer appeared in the air, counting down from ten.
Heterochromatic eyes surveyed the surroundings, quickly familiarizing himself with the battlefield as Kanshou and Bakuya appeared in his hand.
The Mountain reigned in his surprise. He took an informal upright stance, his fists out and his upper form pressed forward with his knees bent and ready.
Silence descended upon the audience, their undivided attention focused on the impending clash. From every corner of the nine realms, as well as the real world, many held their gaze on the spectacle, whether alone, with company, or in various locations. Anticipation filled the air, each onlooker holding their breath in eagerness for the spectacle about to unfold.
The timer hit zero with a loud buzz, and with that, the 9th World Champion Tournament officially began!
"Let's do this!" With a battle cry, The Mountain charged forward.
"[Quick Wind], [Battle Focus], [Iron Will], [Hardened Force], [Adamantium Skin], [Mana Sight], [Focus Strength], [Enhance Reflex], [Bulk Up], [Armored Defenses], [Throttle], [Greater Boost], [Fist Force], [Power Draw], [Eruption Fist]!"
The Mountain wasted no time exploding into action, his massive frame rocketing towards Shirou at speeds that beguiled the Player's large size. His tattoos gave off a colorful glow with each skill activation, no doubt a special cosmetic effect for his character.
Shirou was already in motion the moment the timer hit zero, kicking back as The Mountain rushed him down.
"Ora!" He shouted, throwing a fast but predictable straight left.
Shirou dodged the attack. An explosion followed up his attack after his fist struck and missed. Undeterred, The Mountain winded up for a wide haymaker to catch him.
Shirou proved to be elusive, dodging the attack with ease and the explosion that followed.
The Mountain's punches alone kicked up a torrent of sand and a burst of wind due to the speed and force behind them, and the explosions following each one of his strikes kept Shirou on the defensive.
The Mountain continued his rush and threw attack after attack at an unrelenting pace. Thanks to Shirou's Mind's Eye, he was able to anticipate every movement of his foe and stay one step ahead of the brawler. He may have been fast, but with his large frame, his moves were telegraphed.
During the exchange, Shirou noticed a blue glow in his opponent's eyes. What it meant, he could only speculate.
"Come on! This ain't much of a fight if you're scampering around like a mouse!" The Mountain taunted, throwing an uppercut that Shirou sidestepped.
Seeing an opening, Kanshou and Bakuya lashed out as The Mountain passed him. The black and white Noble Phantasm streaked across the Player's skin, but to no effect.
The two began with a brief exchange of blows. Shirou played it cautiously, committing to the defensive and only responding with counterattacks whenever possible. The Mountain faced no such obstacle and remained unrelenting in his pursuit, devoting himself completely to the offense. He unleashed an endless barrage of punches, jabs, and kicks, showing no signs of slowing down. Any damage done by Shirou's slashes proved to be futile, as the amount of HP deducted from The Mountain's HP bar was negligible, merely in the single digits.
'He's resilient…' A fact that was made abundantly clear, especially with the knowledge of what kind of skills he prefers.
"[Empowered Speed], [Lessen Load], [Focus Agility], [Heavy Duty], [Super Alloy], [Full Force], [Insight Sharpness], [Guardian Stand], [Giant Envy], [Titan's Force], [Scimitar Kick]!"
With another burst of empowered skills, The Mountain lashed out with a sharp low kick that glowed with the activation of the offensive skill.
Shirou leaped back, avoiding the attack, as the kick swept in, cleaving the ground and kicking up a tidal wave of sand.
The Mountain burst forth with blinding speed, catching the magus off guard while he was still off his feet.
"Gotcha! [Heavy Impact]!"
Shirou brought up Kanshou and Bakuya to defend, arcs of neon prana poured into reinforcing them as The Mountain struck with a swift and powerful straight right punch. The piston on the gauntlet fire, landing a second impact right after the first.
His arms groaned, and he could feel his bones shaking, almost buckling against the force of the one-two punch. Kanshou and Bakuya were little better, with spider cracks running across the Noble Phantasm.
The follow-up explosion from his skill, [Eruption Fist], sent him flying back.
Shirou hit the ground, which kicked up another blanket of sand as his body tumbled away. He rolled, recovering back to his feet just as quickly. Just in time too as he caught a flash of red.
"[Bala]!"
A fraction of a second later, an orb of pure crimson barreled forth from the cloud of sand toward him. Shirou rolled to the side as the ball of energy crashed against where he was and exploded, raining down further pockets of sand onto him.
Through narrowed eyes, he caught the profile of The Mountain closing the distance.
"[Bala]!" The battlemaster exclaimed, cocking his fist back before punching forward. Another destructive orb of energy fired forth from his fist.
The magus darted to the side, avoiding the attack, and more like it as The Mountain fired the skill one after another while Shirou ran, attempting to circle around. Each one exploded like a cannonball, with sand blowing up in all directions.
The attack itself didn't appear that strong, but with its size and speed, he'd imagine it would hit like a bowling ball being fired from a cannon. Though he wasn't in any hurry to learn if that was true or not.
The Mountain pulled his fist back, and Shirou preemptively rushed to dodge, but instead of a [Bala], it was something entirely different.
"[Rupture Fissure]!"
The Mountain slammed his fist forward into the sandy terrain as fissures cracked the surface, speeding towards Shirou. His eyes widened, and he jumped back. Reinforcement covered his entire body as an explosion erupted from the crack. He didn't take much damage, but it was enough to catch him off his feet.
Regaining his footing, Shirou rolled to his knees, his eyes fixed on The Mountain as he launched a [Bala] straight at him. In a split second, Shirou reacted with lightning-fast reflexes, hurling Kanshou and intercepting the attack.
The brawler charged through the smoke, closing the distance with a vicious horizontal hammer fist.
"Gotcha! [Iron Hammer]!"
Prana poured into his legs, and with an explosive kick, he dived forward, leading the attack to whiff him as he felt the wind of the blow brush past his cheek. At the same time, prana poured from the hand that once held Kanshou. He grasped the newly traced weapon and swung as they passed, slipping under his opponent's arm. The sword's sharpened blade cut into The Mountain's invincible skin, creating a shower of sparks as the two combatants passed by each other.
"Slippery lil' fucker, ain'tcha?" The Mountain grunted, equal parts amused and annoyed.
Shirou's eyes flickered from his sword to the giant's HP bar, his grimace hardening. He managed to cleave some of his health points, but like with Kanshou and Bakuya before, the damage dealt was minuscule at best, reducing his HP bar by only a sliver.
The weapon in his hand was but one of the handfuls of nameless Noble Phantasms that he copied from Gilgamesh all those decades ago. It was a nondescript Noble Phantasm, one of many that were held within the King of Heroes' illustrious Gate of Babylon. Its unique ability lies in its incredible sharpness. It was similar to Durandal but vastly inferior when compared to the peerless holy blade. However, it served as a good measuring point.
A cursory lull settled over the battlefield after the first fierce exchange. The two Players kept their distance, sizing each other up.
For Shirou, the pieces of the puzzle were slowly aligning, and taken as a whole, he'd come to a good idea of The Mountain's build and subsequent fighting style.
The standoff was broken as The Mountain broke into a charge, and thus, the match resumed.
[—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—]
Warrior Takemikazuchi observed the match with keen eyes, arms crossed, and motionlessness. From the waiting wing, he and the others watched on as the match progressed. Shirou and The Mountain engaged in another brief but furious exchange, with the magus managing to allude to the brawler's reach once more.
'A CQC expert that specializes in heavy infighting at close to medium range with ranged attack skills to either stagger or help close the distance against any opponent. Talk about a nasty combo. You've got a tough customer on your hand, Emiya-san.' Warrior Takemikazuchi observed, using the information he had already gleaned from the fight.
Warrior Takemikazuchi's eyes drifted briefly from the screen, glancing at his fellow fighters.
Absent of the roaring cheers, the waiting wing stood in stark contrast to the stadium. Hushed were the fighters as they stood or sat with their eyes glued to the screen, watching the match unfold before them. No doubt committing the fight to memory and strategizing for if or when they might fight against the victor.
"For all his shit-talking, he's sure having a hard time landing a good hit on him."
"As much as I hate to admit it, Emiya-san is good. I wish they would get on with it before the match becomes a bore."
"It's only a matter of time before The Mountain catches him."
Only the barest of whispers were exchanged between neighbors. Warrior Takemikazuchi kept an idle ear open, giving them only a passing interest as he casually listened in. Others idly joined in, jostling the discussion as comments filtered through the air regarding the direction of the fight.
Despite the numerous remarks flying around, he and the rest of the fighters knew that it was far from as simple or one-sided as they were making it out to be.
He and Shirou have trained and fought against one another for years, and Warrior Takemikazuchi could easily tell the difference. While it was true that Shirou had yet to land a substantial attack on The Mountain, it was more so because he was choosing to keep ahead of him by focusing on the defensive.
Or perhaps it was more prudent to say that he was not committing himself to the offensive just yet.
The stance and the tempo with which The Mountain held himself and fought had a free-form flow to them. It was reminiscent of a skilled street boxer, although not quite professional, as Warrior Takemikazuchi would wager.
Nevertheless, there was a discernible discipline in his form and technique, likely honed over years of practice and play. His style was tailored to aggressive, close-range combat, always on the offensive. The manner in which he unleashed a rapid flurry of blows and chains his attack, even if they didn't land, kept his opponents under constant pressure and gave them no time to react or retaliate. The bruiser's compendium of enchantment and defensive skills meant he could afford to be hyper-aggressive while tanking any attacks thrown his way.
His method of attack was far from complex, but thanks to its sheer simplicity, it was tricky to definitively counter.
'Huh, it ain't all that different from my own.' The Nephilim mused.
' `Course, the biggest difference between us is—'
[—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—]
Growing thoroughly incensed by the constant slog match, The Mountain switched up his tactic, going for a more dynamic approach.
"[Power], [Force Multiplier], [Zen Spirit], [Flight Footwork], [Ironclad], [Overwork], [Heavy Duty], [Greater Resistance], [Maximum Weight], [Overwhelming Strength], [Core Burst], [Fortitude], [Unstoppable Rampage]!" The Mountain yelled, calling upon even more skills.
A fierce gust of sand was kicked up as the wall of muscle charged towards Shirou. The silver-haired Player jumped away as he crashed into the mound where he once stood, obliterating the sand dune.
Yet, the Mountain paid no heed to the magus's escape and charged forth once more, with the same fury as a rampaging bull.
Shirou braced himself and reinforced his leg, propelling himself to the side to evade the Mountain's assault. The outcome remained unaltered as the attack demolished yet another sand mound and sent sand flying in all directions.
'With that kind of momentum and force, it'll be impossible for him to dodge or make any course corrections. But then again, he probably doesn't need to. One mistimed dodge, one mistake, and I'll be in a world of pain.' Shirou observed.
Close-quarter combat was ill-advised. The brief and subsequent skirmishes told him all that he needed to know about his opponent's inherent defenses and strength. Distance would be his ally until the time was right for him to go all in.
And he needed to put as much distance between himself and the Mountain as he could.
The Mountain charged a third time, but this time he prepared for something new. The heavyweight bruiser jumped high into the air as he gained speed, arms outstretched as he brought them downward with thunderous force.
"[Sheer Velocity], [Full Mantle], [Titanic Surge], [Greater Force], [Heavy Downfall]!"
Shirou realized what he was doing and acted just as quickly.
With a forceful stomp, arcs of prana flowed forth and coalesced into an enormous greatsword beneath his feet. In an instant, he took off, balanced atop the sword as it flew through the air.
Due to the unique properties of his projected Noble Phantasms, one of his guildmates pointed out an application he could try with them. Ancient One commented on how Shirou could technically fly if he were to stand atop a large enough sword and have it shoot through the air like how he normally fires his projections.
It was meant entirely as a joke, but the idea had such merit that Shirou couldn't help but try it out. Thus, sword flying was created, an imitation of the [Fly] spell that he kept in his back pocket for greater mobility.
He left at the right time as The Mountain crashed back down like a screaming meteorite.
It was in mid-air that he bore witness to The Mountain's destructive capability. The desert ground where he once stood all but imploded, rupturing from the force behind his attack and leaving behind only a crater. The attack created a mushroom cloud of sand that reached up to the skies.
Shirou managed to get away, but the booming shockwave that followed caught up to him.
[—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—]
'—Would have to be the difference that lies in the nature of their builds.' Touch Me compared.
The variety of skills The Mountain displayed throughout the match were ones commonly used by tanks and the like. Touch Me knew several of them, having seen them used by the likes of Bukubukuchagama and Variable Talisman before. Only instead of the Player using it defensively, he employs the skills offensively.
The secret behind The Mountain's build lies in its central components. The bruiser specs towards tank-oriented classes, which served as the core of his build and complement his brawler playstyle. If Touch Me were to make an educated guess, he would reckon that The Mountain had a hybrid build, combining the sturdy defenses and survivability of [Tank] classes with the offensive capabilities of the [Monk] and [Brawler] archetypes and subclasses. This assumption was based on The Mountain's clear preference for self-enchantment and unarmed combat.
From the start, he has demonstrated an extensive reliance on enchantment skills, far beyond what was typically seen in warrior-type Players. All these buffs bolster his stats and toughness to the absolute limit, making the Player an absolute juggernaut on the battlefield.
The Mountain's entire body was a weapon. His body was like a fortress, and his arms were like cannons. Especially when enhanced beyond their physical limits.
"Damn, that's some power." Duskindal whistled at the destructive display from The Mountain's [Heavy Downfall]. He sat with his hands folded behind his head in a carefree manner, comfortably slouched in his seat.
Touch Me silently agreed.
The screen showed Shirou caught in the blast of the shockwave; his footing on his flying sword destabilized, and he was in free fall.
Touch Me's mind drew a comparison between The Mountain to his rival and friend, Warrior Takemikazuchi.
Both employed highly offensive-oriented playstyles, using their innate expertise and personal prowess to overcome their respective builds limitations, supplemented further by their skills. Warrior Takemikazuchi has his mastery of kenjutsu, while The Mountain has his pseudo-boxing style as his base.
His fighting style and build worked hand in hand, synergizing dangerously well together and making the hulking brawler more than formidable and lethal. The Mountain could take a beating thrown his way and dish it right back in spades.
He put the adage "The greatest defense is a powerful offense" into practice.
For all of The Mountain's showboating and arrogance, the Player had the skills and strength to back up his conceit. Then again, the World Champion of Álfheim shouldn't have expected otherwise. It would've been an insult to the credibility and legacy of the World Champion Tournament if he were merely a lumbering brute.
"So far, it ain't looking so good for Emiya-san. He might want to start pulling out those fancy tricks that we've been hearing about if he wants to do any real damage against that kind of defense." Said ShikiHime.
"Is that so? From where I'm standing, I'd say he's doing quite well for himself despite the circumstances." Touch Me maintained, sitting in his seat with his hands clasped under his chin.
"Maybe, but your bud can't play hooky forever. Something's gotta give and it's only a matter of time before he either slips up and gives The Mountain an opening or the man's going to start wising up to his tricks and catch him."LichtKing commented from his seat next to Touch Me.
"He won't have to. If I know Emiya-san, he's biding his time, waiting for his opportunity — patience will always triumph over hastiness. Besides, The Mountain is far from untouchable by the hands of time."
The Mountain's playstyle was undoubtedly deadly, but it was far from flawless. His build's greatest drawback coincidentally lies in its greatest strength. While his arsenal of skills was no doubt vast, it was ultimately finite. At the accelerated rate he was burning through his skills, it granted him immediate, tremendous strength, enough to overpower any opponent before they could have a chance to retaliate. However, it was impossible to maintain such output for an extensive amount of time.
As the saying goes, a fire that rages twice as hot burns out twice as fast.
Rush-down Players were notoriously ill-suited for prolonged battles. If one could either hold their ground against The Mountain's relentless assault or keep ahead of him and draw out the fight, then he'll be forced to expend more and more, diminishing his strength as the fight drags on.
"In other words, The Pebble's weakness is that he goes in hard and fast right off the bat, and if Emiya-san can out endure him, he'll blow all his load and be limp for the rest of the fight." Duskindal chimed in, snickering.
The sound of groans filled the room.
"How immature." Belladonna sniffed, casting a disgruntled look his way.
"Not the words I'd personally use, but you're entirely not wrong." Touch Me snorted at the double-entendre.
"While that's certainly a factor, it won't mean much if Emiya-san doesn't take the initiative and go on the offensive. If he plans on waiting it out completely, he's bound to slip up eventually." Wishful Mercí pointed out.
"I know, and so does he." Touch Me replied, turning back to the match. "Believe me when I say you haven't seen anything yet."
[—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—]
Flipping through the air, Shirou called upon his black bow. With unparalleled dexterity, he traced and loosed a barrage of empowered arrows upon The Mountain. His feat of acrobatics wowed the audience watching as he counterattacked while falling. His rapid descent and positioning did little to hinder his aim as each arrow found its mark, exploding against his opponent's vital areas.
Much like before, however, hardly any damage reflected off his HP bar, and the Player's taunting laughter echoed through the air.
"Ha! That almost tickles!" The Mountain bellowed, his confidence unshaken.
The Mountain kicked off out of the crater and charged, aiming for where Shirou would land.
"[Trace Bullet]!"
The air lit up as swords were traced and fired alongside his volley of arrows. The Mountain tried to weave the incoming bombardment of explosive projectiles, but unlike his arrows, they were capable of course correction. Although they didn't deal significant damage, their aim was to impede his momentum. Pockets of sand ruptured around and beneath his feet, staggering the goliath along his path. With a fluid motion, Shirou twirled and landed, skidding safely to a stop with a familiar, twisted, corkscrew-shaped sword in his hand.
"My core is..." He chanted, notching Caladbolg II back. The air rippled as arcs of prana poured forth, flowing into the helical arrow.
Although he managed to delay The Mountain, it wouldn't be enough to fully complete his incantation, but that was within acceptable parameters.
With a resounding boom, Shirou released Caladbolg II, the corkscrew sword flying towards the brawler with incredible speed and force.
The Mountain was well aware of Shirou charging up an attack and anticipated it. He planned to sidestep the attack at the last second, his leg already pivoting to dodge the moment he saw the faker's fingers let go of the arrow. However, he had underestimated the Noble Phantasm's speed in comparison to Shirou's other projectiles.
The Mountain didn't even have time to blink before the arrow closed the distance between them, its dreaded spiraling form barreling towards him. The heavyweight Player didn't even see it travel. One moment it was over there, and the next it was less than a meter in front of him. It was as if the distance, space itself, between the two fighters was completely twisted away by the arrow, leaving him no room to react in time.
'S-shit!' His eyes widened.
In the split second before it would hit him, The Mountain managed to wedge his right arm in the arrow's path, bracing himself for what was to come. In the next, he was engulfed in a powerful, super-heated explosion, leaving him reeling from the impact.
Caladbolg II detonation razed the desert field, kicking up a dust storm of ochre sand and blazing conflagration. In the engulfing flames, the immediate surroundings of the desert were glassed from the sheer heat of the attack, leaving only a haze of coarse sand and a garden of hot glass.
The Mountain roared, emerging from the cloud of smoke. While far from fatal, Caladbolg II inflicted a hefty amount of damage, reducing the gargantuan Player's HP down to the high yellow range.
However, that wasn't all it did.
"Ww-what the hell!?"
The Mountain faltered in his steps as he saw the damage done to him. The arm that he used to defend was left a mangled mess that hung limply against his side. His confident façade stripped away, revealing genuine shock and horror at what he saw.
He almost had a freakout, but his mind quickly picked up the discrepancies. For one, he felt no pain, thankfully. Secondly, he could still feel his actual arm and move it; it was just that the limb in question didn't obey due to its mutilated state.
He managed to calm down, but he couldn't look away. The excruciating detail of the bloodied and twisted arm captured his attention. It was not just him but also everyone watching. It was a far cry from what YGGDRASIL typically reveled in, and it drew the morbid curiosity of all those watching.
'Interesting...' Shirou took note of his reaction.
"[Accelerated Healing], [Dispel Weakness], [Frenzy Sort], [Natural Strength], [Hidden Boost]!" The Mountain shook away his stupor.
The glow of the activation of skills focused on his arm, and in no time, his arm was back to normal.
He inspected the restored arm, moving it and flexing his fingers for good measure.
"Nice try, but don't think it'll be that easy!"
The Mountain regained his momentum and rushed Shirou down, his fist firing forth to cave in the magus's head.
Shirou was already ready for him.
"Trace on!"
"[Bazooka Fist]!"
A burst of prana bloomed from his leg as he stomped the ground. They coursed from his limb, spreading through the sand like ripples in a pond. In an instant, a towering shield emerged from below, intercepting the oncoming attack
The sheer force of his punch against the shield caused the air and ground to tremble violently. The sound of metal creaking and cracking echoed through the air as the shield strained under the pressure. But it held, delaying The Mountain and giving him time to jump back and gain distance from his opponent.
"Where ya' running?! The Mountain just wanna give ya' a hug!" He yelled, goading Shirou as he smacked his projection to pieces.
"How about you start fighting like a man instead of a bitch-ass archer?!"
"Very well then." The magus muttered imperceptibly.
Skidding to a stop, his bow dispelled into a stream of prana. His fingers closed in, willing the new weapon to take form with a twirl. In his hand was a long, ornate, shining golden and ivory lance.
"En Garde."
The Mountain blinked in honest surprise. After everything he'd seen, he didn't think that the Player Killer would take him up on his words. Even he knew that the best course of action against himself was to play it safe and keep out of his reach.
That didn't stop the bloodthirsty grin that spread across his face. He was getting bored playing hooky and was eager to return the favor for what he did to his arm.
"FIRST SWORDS, NEXT WERE BOW AND ARROWS ALONG WITH FIRING SWORDS LIKE MISSILES, THEN CAME A SHIELD, AND NOW A LANCE! IS THERE ANYTHING THIS MAN CANNOT MAKE?!"
"Indeed, I find myself quite curious as well. But the question of the hour is, will Emiya be able to pull out the correct weapon for the job? It seems he has finally decided to take The Mountain up on his challenge. One must wonder if this new weapon that he has summoned will be enough to turn the tide of battle for him."
The commentators could be heard, stirring up the crowd, but to the two combatants, they were nothing but white noise. The only thing that mattered was their opponent and winning.
The lines of Reinforcement along his legs glowed brightly as Shirou took off with a burst of speed, meeting The Mountain's charge for the first time head-on.
'I need to time this right or else...'
As both fighters drew closer, they prepared themselves. The Mountain reared his arm back, a textbook example of a right straight with all his weight behind it. For Shirou, golden light radiated from the tip of his lance as he drew back his arm, readying his thrust.
'Now!'
As the two met, they unleashed their attacks.
What looked to be a predictable right straight punch, The Mountain switched it up at the last second. He outstretched his arm in a lariat, ready to clothesline his opponent. One that might've hit had the astute faker not anticipated it.
In a deft and graceful move, Shirou bent his knee and body, executing a powerslide. His back and legs slid against the sandy ground, his quick reflexes and momentum carried him smoothly as he skidded under the giant's swinging arm, narrowly avoiding a heavy hit. His lance struck the scrapper's knee as they drifted past one another.
The Mountain's hands dug into the sand, anchoring him as he swung right around. This quick maneuver saw him ready to charge at the projection user once more, only for his body to tilt and stumble, hitting the ground much to his confusion.
"What the hell?!" He exclaimed, seeing what was wrong.
Much of his right leg was gone, leaving a stump with golden light bleeding from it as everything below his thigh disintegrated away, robbing him of his balance.
Shirou swerved right back around, catching The Mountain's gaze. A mixture of bewilderment and, for the first time, genuine fear.
[The Trap of Argalia: Down with a Touch! – Divine Tier Lance]
This Noble Phantasm was created in YGGDRASIL, and it was all thanks to Assassin's help. Thanks to the flavor text of his NPC Servants, Shirou had access to not only their bios and personalities but also their history, including past summonings. Assassin was once summoned in a Holy Grail War—the Great Holy Grail War, to be exact—to the Black Faction. While the flavor text only provided a general summarization of the events of the Holy Grail War, with the finer details being sparse, it provided Shirou with enough information to take an interest in the Rider of Black and the Noble Phantasm that he possessed.
The Noble Phantasm utility intrigued him, and he sought to add it to his ever-growing arsenal. It was an unconventional weapon, but in this particular scenario, it was just what Shirou needed.
Slashing damage wouldn't be enough, and piercing damage didn't quite cut it for him, and if his usual ranged methods fell short, a different strategy was needed.
Such as inflicting bludgeoning damage. And for that, he needed to render his opponent immobile.
Shirou dashed forward, confronting The Mountain before he had a chance to recover. He swung with the lance and mid-swing, The Lance of Argalia dissipated into motes, replaced with a familiar burst of prana. His finger tightened, grasping the handle of his newly projected weapon as it took form in time to land a brutal blow against The Mountain's head.
The Mountain's vision shook violently as he felt something heavy strike him. His head bounced against the sandy ground, recoiling from the sheer force of the attack. Wide eyes search for the source, falling upon the weapon Shirou now wields.
He almost mistook it for a sword at first, seeing as that was all the Player Killer has shown a propensity for, but on closer inspection, it was more appropriate to call it a club. The weapon looked rather large and cumbersome, with a bulbous end with ridges at the top instead of a sharpened edge. The weapon consisted of dull, blackened metal with smudges of crimson, as if it had been bloodied. A weapon that lacked a certain elegance when compared to his previous Noble Phantasm, but one that was just as brutally effective and well-suited to getting the results he wanted.
[Nægling: Iron Hammer Snake Smash - Divine Tier Sword]
Shirou swung again as the Mountain hurried to defend himself with one of his arms. Nægling collided, his body rattling from the heavy hit, knocking the appendage away.
The Mountain allowed himself to smirk. He used one of his arms to take the attack, giving him a chance to retaliate when the magus's guard was open after the initial heavy swing with his other fist. However, the brawler wasn't the one with the same idea, as Shirou's other hand was far from idle.
Before the Player could get a skill out, his vision rattled once more as his head was smacked to the side. Shirou had traced a second Nægling and swung in the interim of his recovery, using the momentum behind his initial swing to swing again.
Again, Shirou noticed the same blue glow in his eyes as before as The Mountain glared at him.
"B-bbastard!" He gritted out.
The Mountain's vision swam under the brutal assault, his head staggering with every heavy strike, which left him discombobulated as he struggled between recovering his focus and defending. It was this split-second recovery delay between these two actions that Shirou took advantage of. Both his arms worked dexterously with one another, moving to attack and intercept simultaneously and each flowing into the next seamlessly, leaving The Mountain with very little time to recover.
Shirou effectively had The Mountain in a stun lock.
This continued as Shirou slowly whittled his HP down further and further, much to the Player's mounting frustration and encroaching dread. For the first time in the match, The Mountain felt a stab of fear shoot through his heart.
"HOT DAMN, EMIYA SURE ISN'T LETTING UP! THE MAN IS RELENTLESS IN HIS ATTACK. HE'S BEATING THE MOUNTAIN'S LIKE A DAMN DRUM!"
With the audience, many in the crowd were yelling for The Mountain to get back up or belittling him while those cheering Shirou on shouted waves of encouragement. Particularly Ainz Ooal Gown.
"WOOOOO! Whoop his ass, senpai! Show him who's daddy!" Peroroncino howled.
"P-pero!" Reina chided.
"What? It's not like I'm the only one." The archer jabbed his thumb next to him.
"Kick the bastard's teeth in Shirou-kun!" Bukubukuchagama yelled alongside the others.
"Break the motherfucker's face in!" Destana shouted as well with a wild grin, wrangling Momonga in while he tried to keep up with his rowdy girlfriend.
Back with the fight, The Mountain grew incensed by the second under Shirou's assault. He needed to get free and quick.
"RARRGH!"
Taking a gamble, he forgoed any further attempts at freeing himself and focused his efforts on defending against the brunt of the attacks. Despite his health points dwindling lower and lower, The Mountain bided his time, waiting for the slightest opportunity to present itself. And when it finally did, he seized it without hesitation.
The Mountain lunged forward, timing it the moment Shirou hit him with Nægling, the fraction of a second where he couldn't immediately follow it up. His tree-trunk-sized arms wrapped around the silver-haired Player, bringing the magus down with him.
The two Players engaged in a fierce struggle, their bodies tumbling and rolling across the sand and ending with the man on top of Shirou. The magus wrangled against the brawler, but it was little use. The latter's larger size gave him a distinct advantage, allowing him to keep Shirou pinned down with a vice-like grip. The magus let out a pained groan as he felt his chest and ribs being constricted as The Mountain's larger body pressed down on him. They wrestled some more until he projected several swords above them.
With their position as they were, he didn't have to worry too much about splash damage as they rocketed downward. They struck the battle master's backside, exploding and damaging him. Enough to the point where he loosened his hold on him, allowing the projection user to escape.
He kicked the brawler's body, trying to scramble away. Only for The Mountain to grab ahold of his leg, catching him.
The two locked eyes as he felt himself being lifted up.
'Oh, shii—!'
Shirou felt vertigo take him as he was violently pulled off the ground.
Dangling upside down, The Mountain swung him against the ground. Shirou's body bounced harshly against the sand, disorienting him.
The Mountain didn't hold anything back as he pulled back and swung again with all his might, leaving Shirou to brace himself.
It was a rather comical sight for those watching the fight, seeing the titan of a Player swinging another person around like one of those old-timey slapstick cartoons.
As Shirou was lifted up yet again, he was ready this time. He struck with Nægling, a direct hit to the Player's cranium as he was held aloft over the man mid-swing.
It worked as both of them fell to the ground, disoriented. The magus was the first to recover, rolling away and jumping back to his feet. However, The Mountain recovered just as quickly.
"[Rupture Force]!" Both his hands slammed into the ground, and orange light poured forth from the sea of sand beneath them.
Shirou was forced to back off and disengage as an explosive force rocked the ground beneath, kicking up another miniature sandstorm. He was knocked back as wild wind and sand obscured everything in sight.
The faker recovered, wobbly but far from shaken, and rolled to his knees, eyes squinting and searching.
He saw a shadow, seeing it shift in place alongside The Mountain's faint and fragmented voice being heard over the blistering wind. He sprinted forward, reasoning that The Mountain was using this as a distraction to regain his footing and retreat.
However, this was a misplay on Shirou's part.
Through the obscuring cloud of sand, he came upon the Mountain taking a crouch start stance. He lowered his posture and center of gravity as low as possible. His knee was taut and bent, resembling a coiled spring, ready to be released at any moment. His arms laid against the sandy ground, helping to balance his form. Even with only one leg and less than stable footing and posture, he was able to unleash his skill.
The Mountain didn't retreat, as Shirou thought he would. Instead, he was waiting for him.
And Shirou walked right into it.
"[Fa Jin]!"
When the two separated, The Mountain activated the skill [Fa Jin] under the cover of sand to conceal and prepare himself for Shirou. The ability was an enhancement skill that allowed the user to build up energy by charging up a move. Which could then be transferred over as kinetic energy and empower their next skill dramatically. The longer a Player could hold and stockpile this energy, the more powerful it would be.
Although it hadn't been long since he activated it, no more than ten seconds, it would give his attack an added punch.
"[Raging Vigor]!"
With a powerful and booming stomp, The Mountain released his charged attack. His hulking frame blurred as if fired from a cannon as his entire body slammed directly into Shirou's center mass. The faker barely had time to bring up his arms in defense before he was struck. He sucked in a sharp breath as both his arms all but caved inward. Lances of white-hot pain blossomed from his chest and arms at the center of impact, spreading across his body. The attack alone knocked him straight into the mid-yellow, even with Reinforcement boosting him.
Shirou was sent catapulting backward from the attack, hitting and ragdolling against the rough desert terrain several times before coming to a stop as he smashed into a dilapidated pillar of a small ruin. One of many that were scattered across the arid landscape.
The sun-baked earth received him with a resounding thud, sending shockwaves through his body and robbing him of his breath. His chest heaved with the effort to inhale, but the searing heat and dust-filled air only added to his distress. He coughed fervently, desperately attempting to catch his breath.
At the stadium, the screens showed a close-up of the infamous Player Killer on his back, capturing every excruciating detail of his face twisting in pain. Seeing Shirou in such a state earned more mocking scoffs and eye rolls from the audience. After all, if The Mountain didn't reach in such a manner when injured, then why now him? They didn't believe it for a second.
Jeers and comments on how he was faking it or how he should stop being a wimp and get back up filled the air.
Ainz Ooal Gown, his closest friends, especially, were anything but amused.
"Grr! Why those no-good...! I'll show them!" Bukubukuchagama growled, her real voice leaking through.
"Easy girl, easy." Yamaiko whispered, holding back the slime from going wild.
"Come on... Heal yourself..." Momonga whispered, his leg bouncing restlessly at the sight of his long-time friend in pain.
Thanks to Avalon, he recovered enough to will out a command.
"Activate: [Boost Magic: Sacred Twilight]!" One of his rings, Draupnir, glowed.
The ring was a Divine tier magical item that was gifted to Shirou years ago by Momonga. The item bore the name of the ring gifted to Odin in Norse mythology.
It was a magic ring that stored up to twelve magic spell slots that he could use at any time. The ring held a reserve of only twenty-four MP, and the spells contained within could only be 8th tier and below, but he had access to meta magic.
A small white magic circle appeared over the azure gemstone. White healing light with motes of twilight washed over him as his bones and wounds were stitched up. The pain subsided following his HP regeneration back into the green. He sucked out a ragged gasp, catching his breath.
"[Recovery], [Greater Boost], [Unbreakable Will], [Steadfast], [Warrior Spirit], and [Bestial Regeneration]!"
The Mountain's tattoo shone brightly, followed by a discharge of steam as he used more of his skills to dispel the effect on his leg in addition to regenerating his HP. A hand clutched his forehead as he steadied his dizzying head.
Both fighters struggled to their feet, eyes set on each other and glaring as a small reprieve settled down amidst the fighting.
"Alright, The Mountain will give it to ya'. Ya' strong, but it's gonna take a lot more to bring down The Mountain!"
"...Mountains becoming hills, weathered by time. Yet, a hill will be a mountain for ants, and ants alone. You are but a carp trying to convince others otherwise."
The two briefly exchanged, back on their feet. Despite the distance, they heard one another all too easily.
"Wordy little bastard, aren't ya?" The Mountain snarked. "Let's see if ya wax that poetic bullshit when The Mountain smashes your face in!"
"The Mountain ought to stop referring to himself in the third person." Shirou groused at his reductive manner of speech.
Outwardly, The Mountain scoffed, but inwardly, he was far warier. Though he may project himself as a strongman, he did not get where he was by relying on the strength of his build alone.
He had heard the rumors regarding the Player Killer, but he always doubted the true validity of them. However, only a fool would completely ignore them, for all rumors have some basis of truth in them.
'This fight went on for far too long.' The Mountain mused. An obvious and pointless observation considering what he'd already seen, but one that filtered through his thoughts nonetheless.
The Mountain's winning strategy was rather simple, rush down his opponent and crush them before they have a chance to retaliate or become a threat. The longer the fight draws out, the more his chances of winning decreased.
The titanic Player had planned to blitz Shirou down and beat him well and truly before he even had a chance to pull out his tricks.
A plan that thoroughly failed, and now he needed to formulate a counterstrategy and quickly.
But what raked him the most was the fact that Shirou, a Player with objectively weaker stats than his own was able to corner and, even to an extent, overpower him. It was a bruise to his ego, knowing that he purposely picked the first match against the Faker Player, confident in his build and skills to beat him, only to be put on the backfoot.
'Despite the trade-off, he knows my build's weakness, and he has the methods to counter it. He'll be a fool not to keep to hit-and-run tactics, just like in the beginning. Or he might feel emboldened by the fight and try again, seeing as how he got me on my knees with just that lance and those clubs… I could try playing it safe as well, run away, and try to force him to come to me instead of the other way around. But that's not counting on what else he might have hidden under his sleeves. Especially if he can fire off more of that powerful arrow or worse. Damnit!'
The Mountain was conflicted, his teeth grinding together at the feeling of being pressed against a wall. Much of his hesitation lay in the mystery that he had no true idea what else Shirou could pull out.
He needed time, time to work out a counterstrategy.
Time that, unfortunately, he would not be given, for while Shirou was known to be a generous man, he had no intention of allowing the man to recover.
'He's cautious.' Shirou observed.
YGGDRASIL didn't support facial animation. At times, it proved to be both a help and a hindrance. It was useful as a mask, a shield to conceal one's true thoughts. In this moment however, all of his opponent's emotions and little intricacies that would normally be hidden away were on full display for the magus. A fact that no doubt slipped The Mountain's mind at the moment. The creases on his forehead, the sweat trickling down his cheek, the twitching of his brows, and the strained curve of his lips told him exactly what he needed to know.
His frustration and hesitance were clear to see, and that was to Shirou's advantage.
He jerked forward, faking a move as The Mountain reacted. He flinched back, his body tense and ready to turn and run on the dime if need be.
'He's waiting to see what I'll do next and reacting accordingly.' Shirou recognized.
Shirou knew better than to rush in and press his advantage so hastily. He may have a slight advantage at the moment, but that could all change, for no fight was assured until the very end.
He couldn't help but think of a vermin, one who'd been scorned and now was ready to do anything to escape. A useful mindset, certainly, but nothing new.
A cornered beast may be dangerous, but a one-trick pony was ever so predictable. All he had to do was make him dance to a familiar tune and make his opponent come to him instead...
His hand gripped around the length of a bow that had yet to exist. A single thought could change that, granting him a range advantage that his opponent would struggle to overcome.
So, a thought he gave and a weapon he received, along with its deadly munition. Now, it was time to see how far the mountain reaches before it plateaus!
'It's time to bring this match to a close.'
Eyes narrowing, Shirou planned his endgame.
