45 The 9th World Champion Tournament
Lightning crackled as two lightning-charged blades clashed.
The magus's dichromatic eyes fell onto the HF blade, noting the chipped edge and surface riddled with tiny cracks. [Reinforcement] and [Alteration] helped to fix it, but it was merely a stopgap, as he'd been doing so numerous times throughout their exchange. It was made abundantly clear again which weapon was superior.
Rather than keeping up the pressure, Shirou allowed Warrior Takemikazuchi to win the struggle, backstepping back while pulling back the crimson katana.
Locking in his stance, he quickly sheathed the blade, his finger already on the trigger.
"[Trigger Draw: Jetstream]!"
"[Relentless Spirit], [Indomitable], [Raikiri: Lightning Cutter]!"
With a loud bang, Shirou channeled the powerful, explosive quick-draw into his swing.
Simultaneously, Warrior Takemikazuchi's body glowed and a brilliant aura of purple lightning enveloped Takemikazuchi MK 8's blade, imbuing it with power.
However, instead of retaliating with a counter-attack to match his opponent's slash, Warrior Takemikazuchi gripped his ōdachi tightly with both hands and held it in waiting.
Shirou's HF blade collided with Takemikazuchi MK 8, sending a shower of sparks flying in all directions.
Warrior Takemikazuchi, in a surprising move, held his ground, using his skills defensively to guard against the attack. The samurai skidded backward, weathering the quick-draw slash.
The Humanoid Player attempted to back up, but the Nephilim samurai was quicker to react.
Warrior Takemikazuchi swung Takemikazuchi MK 8 horizontally and slashed against the ground at an angle, firing a scattering of rubble at the retreating magus.
Shirou swung, slicing as much as he could. Reinforcement glowed brightly as he knew that he wouldn't be able to destroy all the incoming debris.
Shirou winced at some of the larger pieces.
One in particular flew past his guard, hitting him in the head right over his right eyebrow.
He hissed, reeling as his vision faltered for a split second.
Warrior Takemikazuchi rushed in, putting him on the back foot.
The Bujin's sword swung wide and heavy, making each slash a powerful blow that left the virtual magus staggering with every swing. Cracks spread across the crimson katana with every hit as he defended and fought to keep up with the relentless attacks.
Shirou swung for an attack but was parried.
"[Caṇḍamahāroṣaṇa]!"
Warrior Takemikazuchi's blade flashed downward, its lightning-infused strike faster than ever. Too strong to block and too quick to deflect, it barreled into Shirou's shoulder, digging deep into his shoulder blade and flesh.
Wild electricity ran rampant, shocking his insides, and, as his HP plummeted into yellow, his throat spasmed, forcing a guttural roar of pain that he'd tried to quiet.
Warrior Takemikazuchi's body stilled, a renewed swing halting midway, stalled by the unexpected sound that made his heart hurt and his body tremble. Sadly, he wasn't allowed to focus much more on said feelings, as a barrage of [Trace Bullet] found its way into his chest, knocking him away from his wounded friend.
Years of practice had him roll with the attack, his tumble turning into a roll and finally a kneeling stance, his sword at his side, ready for further action, but when nothing else came his way, he allowed himself some words.
"H-hey, you alright, man?" He was surprised by the tremble in his words, but he ignored it in favor of his friend's pain.
Much like himself, his opponent was also kneeling, but while he was voluntary, he didn't think Shirou was in the same boat. Not with the shaking his eyes caught, likely the result of the residue electric attack, if the sparks that occasionally seemingly spawn from nowhere were anything to go by.
"I'll... live..." The words came out gruffer than expected, but it was the best that he could do, even as he staggered into a standing position to match Warrior Takemikazuchi's own rising frame.
A momentary reprieve settled over the battle. A tense quietness permeated the air, punctuated only by the soft rustle of clouds drifting overhead and the gentle caress of the breeze on their skin.
"Why'd you let up and drop your guard, Takemikazuchi-san?" Shirou asked. "You're not one to make amateurish mistakes like that." He said, trying to rouse a response from his friend.
Warrior Takemikazuchi said nothing, eying the wounded shoulder.
Shirou glanced at it.
The detail displayed was both grisly and fascinating. The cut was clean and deep, parting a portion of his shoulder and exposing flesh and muscle. Blood poured from the laceration, running down his hand and pooling on the ground. Had Warrior Takemikazuchi pushed on, he could've severed the magus's arm completely at the shoulder.
"I've survived worse, and you know it." The magus grunted, clutching the shoulder and fighting back the painful wince.
He was no stranger to pain; one could even call them old friends. And in a morbid way, he was appreciative of it. It kept him grounded. A constant reminder - a source of stability. To everyone else, YGGDRASIL was a game, but to him, it was his reality.
He knew it, and so did his friends, those of his inner circle, even if it took a while for them to accept it. It was nothing new.
But of course, on occasion, that fact of his reality rears its ugly head, especially when they least expect it.
Using their respective rings, they restored their HP to full.
Shirou's deep wound knitted together, and just like that, his shoulder was as good as new.
The silence stretched on as the two warriors faced one another.
Warrior Takemikazuchi didn't say anything. His character model's wide grin remained, but a closer inspection revealed a subtle strain in his facial expression. His body language also betrayed a slight hunch, and his grip on Takemikazuchi MK 8 loosened ever so slightly.
These subtle cues, though easily missed by an untrained eye, spoke volumes to Shirou about the turmoil brewing within his guildmate's mind.
"Don't you dare think about taking it easy on me." Shirou said sharply.
Call it misguided pride, call it obtuse fairness, or whatever else, but if he was giving it his all, then it was expected that Warrior Takemikazuchi would show the same courtesy.
Win or lose, he would not have it said that either of them was given the victory instead of earning it rightfully. And the same applied to Warrior Takemikazuchi as well.
Warrior Takemikazuchi stared into Shirou's heterochromatic eyes. No words were spoken, but his resolute gaze told him all that he needed to know.
An unspoken understanding passed between them.
The Heteromorph dipped his head slightly, acknowledging his opponent's and friend's resolve.
"Alright." Warrior Takemikazuchi said after a moment. "But remember, you asked for it. So don't blame me when I give you plenty of ouchies for you to chew on." He quipped, raising his blade.
"I wouldn't have it any other way." The magus gave a small smirk.
He swung his arm with a weeping flourish, his magic circuits glowed brightly as prana filled and flowed from them. The streams of shimmering prana converged and a ring of swords formed, revolving in perfect unison around his body. A halo of swords followed, hovering behind him and turning ceaselessly. The longsword he held in his hands gleamed magnificently, its splendor and strength shining with a dazzling glow.
'Durandal!' Warrior Takemikazuchi recognized the peerless sword.
Aloud, he commented. "Oh? Now that's new." Intrigue colored his words.
Warrior Takemikazuchi's eyes flickered from the holy sword to the hovering swords, observing them.
The sword of Roland, while formidable, was a known factor. Its indestructibility was a solid counter to his Takemikazuchi MK 8, while its "miracles" were something he needed to be watchful of. However, what he was weary of was the mystery and potential threat behind the hovering swords.
He had a fair few ideas on what their purposes may be, but he knew better than to assume. When it came to fighting the virtual magus, one could never truly ascertain his methods until the last possible second.
But that only made it all the more exciting to see what he had planned in mind. Plus, he was eager to test his Takemikazuchi MK 8 against the peerless Durandal.
Shirou made the first move, dashing forward as four swords from the rotating halo fired forth. New swords instantly took their place.
Warrior Takemikazuchi dashed forward as well. His eyes tracked the incoming swords. They spread and arced, coming at him from different angles.
He swung, destroying the first two, and followed it up with the other two. They dissipated into motes of light, surprising him. He expected Shirou to detonate them prematurely, like before. They weren't even a part of [Trace Bullet], only simple projections.
Meeting in the middle, the two swung.
"[Cleave]!"
A metallic shriek echoed.
Warrior Takemikazuchi tried to power through with his skill, but Shirou held his ground, their blade locked in a tight embrace.
From the halo, five more swords fired out, curving around him to attack from behind.
"[Five-Fold Slasher]!"
Warrior Takemikazuchi pushed, letting go of the stalemate. He swung around, destroying four of the swords with ease. However, the fifth sword detonated before he could get rid of it, catching him in the blast and leaving him stunned, rather than expressly dealing damage.
Taking advantage of the opening, Durandal found purchase on the Heteromorphs' side and landed a substantial attack.
"[Kashira Blow]!"
Warrior Takemikazuchi whirled back around, aiming at his forehead and striking with the pommel.
Shirou reeled, with Warrior Takemikazuchi swinging at his unguarded side.
The swords that circled the magus quickly came together, layering over one another to form an improvised shield.
Takemikazuchi MK 8 sliced through the first three with little effort. The fourth, fifth, sixth, and all the following swords met the same fate. Reaching the eighth and final sword, a bastard sword with a wide flat blade, it was finally halted, leaving a deep gash and cracks along the sword's surface but not breaking through.
As Warrior Takemikazuchi pulled back for another swing, Shirou seized the opportunity to score another blow on him. Like with the halo, new swords replaced the ones previously destroyed.
"[Violent Flash]!"
Warrior Takemikazuchi retaliated with a lightning-fast attack, golden lighting coursing forth from the slash.
Shirou raised Durandal to block the attack, but was only able to deflect it partially. The powerful skill grazed his sides.
Warrior Takemikazuchi rained down slashes, but Durandal held, it's peerless form holding up against Takemikazuchi MK 8's unparalleled sharpness.
Again, the two locked blades.
"Ol' sword, bless thy miracle…" Shirou chanted.
Warrior Takemikazuchi's eyes widened as Durandal glowed. Simultaneously, swords fired out from the halo, aimed at him from all directions - above, the sides, and behind.
"[Acala's Sword]!"
He swung his sword in a wide arc, using the AoE physical attack skill to knock Shirou back, who defended with Durandal again, while also destroying the incoming swords.
Despite his effort, one survived. With his other hand, he swung, attempting to bat the final sword away. Right as his hand made contact, the projection detonated, catching him in the full blast.
The samurai staggered.
Shirou swung, landing an upward diagonal slash across his chest.
"Argh!" The two roared in unison, forging onward as the warriors duked it out.
[—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—]
'I've seen Emiya-san pull some interesting maneuvers, but this?' Touch Me pondered. 'This is definitely a first.'
It was less of a graceful and tactful duel and more like a slugfest. Only instead of fists, it was with swords.
'A sword-fest.' His mind playfully conjured.
Having seemingly abandoned keeping his distance and playing to his strength, Shirou fought Warrior Takemikazuchi head-on at his own game.
The World Champion couldn't help but be impressed by the remarkable display of versatility and ingenuity demonstrated by the magus's projections.
The ring of swords that circled him functioned as a defensive measure that could come together to serve as either a cushion or barrier to slow Warrior Takemikazuchi's ferocious swings. The hovering swords created a constant presence, while the halo of swords remained a looming threat that would keep up the pressure. But it didn't end there as he could switch them up at any second, making each of them a credible threat if left unattended.
Shirou was able to do this by tracing simple, inexpensive swords that were easily replaceable once one was used up. This kept him stocked up, allowing him to devote his entire focus and energy to combatting the Bujin.
And there was still Durandal to worry about.
'It's practically impossible to determine which is an actual attack, a feint, or a set-up for another move…' Momonga thought, analyzing the fight.
His floating swords could serve either as deceptive feints to allow him to get his swings in with Durandal, shift counters, or as distractions to mask his next move. Furthermore, the magus was adept in the art of alternating between offensive and defensive tactics with Durandal. In the latter case, his projections would serve as the damage dealer as he used the holy sword's invincibility against Takemikazuchi MK 8. To add another layer of complexity to his attack pattern, his invocation of Durandal's miracles served as bait to force his opponents to redirect his focus, leaving the Heteromorphic Player vulnerable to his next move. And by constantly switching it up, the unpredictable tempo made it all the more challenging for the samurai to discern a pattern between his moves as any of them could be real or false.
And that was only with what he'd seen showcased so far in the fight.
The Overlord watched as Shirou expertly wielded Durandal to deflect an attack, allowing him to slip into Warrior Takemikazuchi's guard. While the ōdachi gave him a longer striking range and reach, the tradeoff meant that at a certain range, it was cumbersome to wield properly due to the weapon's length and the Heteromorph's large frame. Something that the Humanoid Player was fully exploiting, keeping up close and personal with his opponent.
The faker's skillful combination of various factors enabled him to string together his moves and attacks, allowing him to attack at a reckless pace that was almost uncharacteristic of the magus. However, this daring approach was not without its flaws, as the formidable Warrior Takemikazuchi was equally skilled at unleashing a flurry of attacks. Nonetheless, the faker's boldness paid off as he was able to keep up with Warrior Takemikazuchi's pace and even push him back, much to everyone's initial surprise.
Following a clash, the two Players separated.
The sound of their heavy breathing echoed, filling the air with each winded exhale.
The samurai's heavy armor was riddled with dozens of cuts and marred with blast burns, while the virtual magus bore numerous slits across his body, blood seeping from the wounds.
The two were taking damage but also dealing it in equal amounts.
Despite it all, the two shared a smile.
Warrior Takemikazuchi chuckled.
To think he would be bested in a match-up of aggression, he never thought he'd seen the day.
Shirou's gaze flickered towards Takemikazuchi MK 8. Even after all the clashes, even from the likes of the HF blade, it remained impeccable as it was when it was first revealed.
However, his keen eyes caught something: a tiny, hairline fracture along the surface of the blade.
This didn't go unnoticed by Warrior Takemikazuchi.
"[Repair Weapon]."
His ring, the [Ring of Nibelung], glowed as he gently ran his hand down along the ōdachi's blade. It glowed, and just like that, the minuscule imperfection was no more.
"You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you?" He asked rhetorically, casually resting the ōdachi on his shoulder.
"No." Shirou admitted freely. "But a man could always hope, Takemikazuchi-san."
"Well, I guess you'd just have to keep on hoping, old friend." Warrior Takemikazuchi quipped good-naturedly.
A moment of levy passed between the two friends, and just as it quickly as it came, it left.
"[Kōtei bureidosutōmu: Emperor Bladestorm]!"
In an instant, his sword blurred as he swung. The air itself whistled sharply as if severed, leaving behind a distortion that seemed to ripple through the atmosphere.
Shirou's reflexes kicked in and he instinctively ducked, and the ultra-high-speed slash sailed over him. His halo of swords was annihilated, shattering into pieces. The attack traveled, slicing through the various island-platforms in its path as if they were mere paper.
"[Flash Step]!"
Warrior Takemikazuchi closed the distance, using his skill to blink forward with a fast swing.
"[Seven-Fold Striker], [Dancing Blade], [Swift Strike]!"
The magus was instantly on the back foot, swaying backward as he defended and fought back against Warrior Takemikazuchi's relentless slashes.
With each clash of their blades, the air around them hummed with the sound of steel meeting steel. A song of steel played out as the metal of their blades rang, their steel dazzling as they made contact with one another. Their movements were a blur, their forms almost impossible to follow as they engaged in a deadly dance, captivating the audience.
"[Senku]!"
Shirou brought up Durandal to defend.
The skill clashed against the Noble Phantasm and the two locked swords.
"[Shoulder Bash]!"
Warrior Takemikazuchi used his skill to land a fast body blow, staggering the magus.
At the same time, Shirou swung his sword, attempting to counterattack.
Switching to one-handed, Warrior Takemikazuchi parried the attack.
"[Lotus Fang]!"
With a flick of his wrist, the samurai tossed Takemikazuchi MK 8 and caught it in his left hand. The quick switch enabled him to swing once again, capitalizing on the opening he had created.
Shirou's eyes widened as Takemikazuchi MK 8's ascending slash sliced through his right hand which held the holy sword with ease, separating some of his fingers and a portion of his hand in one swift, clean stroke.
While Durandal was invincible, its wielder was far from it.
As the peerless sword fell, the Bujin swung at it with his blade. He knocked it away, the Noble Phantasm bouncing against the ground, before rolling over the edge of the stage, lost to sight.
At the same time, Warrior Takemikazuchi's right elbow descended, landing a powerful elbow strike that connected with Shirou's head with a heavy sound.
He hit the ground, his head bouncing. Sharp pain flared as his vision blurred and swayed.
Despite his disoriented state, he managed to roll to the side as Warrior Takemikazuchi's fist came down, smashing the ground where his head was. Cracks webbed out from the impact spot.
He twisted his body, his leg reaching up and wrapping around the limb. It almost looked like he was going for a grapple.
Warrior Takemikazuchi swung his arm, tossing Shirou away.
He rolled, recovering to his knees in a crouch.
Blood poured from the wound, trickling down from his forehead and staining his right eye and vision. Throbbing pain assaulted his head while a sharp, stinging pain spread from his maimed hand.
"Trying to crack my head open or something, Takemikazuchi-san?" Shirou quipped. 'Then again, I did tell him not to hold back…'
His tongue peeked out, taking a lick of the flowing blood. The bitter, iron taste helped to dull the splitting headache as his vision refocused.
His left sight was fine, but his right sight was hindered slightly by the blood, with parts of Warrior Takemikazuchi's body being covered in his vision.
He dared not blink, but try as he might; not even he could completely control his body's bodily functions and the accumulating pain.
His body reacted and his right eye blinked, and the samurai moved in that instant.
Shirou's remaining swords gathered, overlapping to defend like before.
Before Warrior Takemikazuchi could destroy all of them, they detonated, catching both of them in the blast.
Shirou flew back, over the ledge, and landed harshly on his side on another island-platform.
Warrior Takemikazuchi pushed on, jumping down with a crash as Shirou came to his knee.
A single projection was traced and fired straight upwards, hitting the bottom of an island-platform above them. A chunk of rubble fell right onto the stage and directly into Warrior Takemikazuchi's path.
"[Ganyu Strike]!"
He slashed at the rubble, kicking up a cloud of dust.
From his periphery, he saw something whipping forward from the side towards him.
He tilted his head and shifted his weight to the side, allowing what he saw as a long, black shaft to sail over him. He backrolled as the smoke cleared up.
'That's one long-ass spear…' He first thought, seeing the new projection in the Fake Player's hand.
Indeed. In Shirou's hand was a spear with an obsidian-black shaft and an elegant, ornate engraving etched into the surface of its sharp blade.
The spear's length was the most notable feature. It was long, almost to the point of being absurd, doubling his height. It looked cumbersome to wield and balance, yet the faker had no such trouble even with a impaired hand.
Warrior Takemikazuchi was unfamiliar with this apparent new Noble Phantasm, hence his slight caution.
[Tonbokiri: The Spear that Split the Dragonfly – Divine Tier Spear]
Tonbokiri, one of the three legendary spears of Japan, was wielded by the great general and daimyō, Honda Tadakatsu. The spear was forged by none other than Fujiwara Masazane, a disciple of the great blacksmith Sengo Muramasa. The weapon's legend was derived from the story of how a dragonfly landed on the blade and was sliced cleanly in two. The weapon would serve Honda well, earning him countless victories and cementing the weapon's name in Japanese history as an unrivaled weapon.
Warrior Takemikazuchi scrutinized the spear, trying to parse out its ability. Appearance can be deceiving, and he knew that his friend and fellow weapon connoisseur enjoyed giving his Noble Phantasms esoteric usage that typically defies the weapon's functions.
Shirou's grip tightened, his grasp on the spear shifting ever slightly.
That was the indication that Warrior Takemikazuchi had to react before Shirou swung. Moving faster than it should've been possible, the Tonbokiri blurred as he swung the spear horizontally in a spinning strike.
Anticipating the attack, Warrior Takemikazuchi readied his Takemikazuchi MK 8, but at the last moment, he switched his stance to block the incoming attack with a swift guard.
He resisted but was caught off guard by the sheer speed and weight of the spinning slash. He was swept off his feet and thrown back off the ledge into freefall by the sheer force behind the blow.
[Tonbokiri]'s super-sonic slash expanded, destroying the surrounding island-platforms paralleling theirs.
The Noble Phantasm shattered in his hand, its purpose fulfilled.
Shirou ran and jumped off after Warrior Takemikazuchi.
"[Trace Bullet]!"
Falling, his projections surrounded him, but rather than firing at the samurai, they fired backward.
The various floating platforms above and behind him exploded, reducing them to chunks of rubble.
"Trace on!"
Prana surged forth, forming numerous chains. They fired outward, the nail-spike at the end of each chain stabbing pieces of rubble he made. With a mighty tug, he pulled, redirecting them towards Warrior Takemikazuchi.
"HAHAHA! You always know how to keep it interesting, Emiya-san!" Warrior Takemikazuchi shouted, laughing.
A bombardment of stones descended upon the samurai as he fell.
"[Sever], [Flowing Edge], [Rendering Blade]!"
He swung his ōdachi, each swing of the Divine class blade cleaving through the hunks of stone like they were nothing.
Warrior Takemikazuchi landed with a heavy crash, leaving a deep indentation from where his legs landed. The floating stage he landed on trembled precariously and nearly crumbled under the force.
He did not stop swinging his sword even as he fell, slicing through the rubble with tremendous ferocity that rained down upon him.
Slicing through a particularly large chuck, the two halves separated to reveal Shirou. In his hand was a great obsidian single-edged axe equipped with thrusters along the back.
Shirou dropped from above and swung his axe with all his might, and the thrusters ignited, augmenting the force of his strike.
Warrior Takemikazuchi braced himself, his grip tightening as he swung back.
The two Players roared as their weapons clashed.
The ground shook dangerously once more.
A piercing, grating sound rang out as their weapons fiercely vied for dominance.
"Break!" Shirou shouted.
Warrior Takemikazuchi was forced to one knee, struggling to contend with Shirou's attack thanks to him getting the initial drop on the Heteromorph.
"[Tenshō: Piercing Heaven]!" A surge of moonlight energy cloaked Takemikazuchi MK 8.
With his teeth gritted and his willpower unbroken, Takemikazuchi pushed himself back up on his feet.
The clash between their weapons intensified.
'Just a bit… more…!' Warrior Takemikazuchi thought, watching the cracks along the axe increase and spread.
However, what gave way first wasn't Shirou's projection but rather the stage.
Both their eyes widened, and they shared a look as the ground lurched and fell apart, revealing the vast open sky beneath their feet.
There were no more island-platforms below them; they would fall to their deaths.
Separating, the two focused everything on surviving.
"[Flight Foot], [Quick Dash], [Flash Step]!"
Warrior Takemikazuchi ran precariously on what was left of the stage, kicking off the edge as the platform fell into the open, cloudy abyss below.
What he was aiming for was an island-platform that floated in the far off distance.
With his skills, he jumped, gaining some distance. But it wouldn't be enough.
"[Wings of Icarus]!"
Thankfully, he still had one more option available to him.
Long, ethereal wings manifested, and with a mighty flap, the Heteromorph soared forward.
Unfortunately, he was just the tiniest bit out of reach. His hand outstretched and his fingers stretching, brushing against the ledge but unable to grab on.
'Let's hope this works!'
With one last desperate attempt, he flipped his grip on his ōdachi, holding it in a reverse grip.
While he was just out of reach of the platform, his Takemikazuchi MK 8 could make it.
He swung, the long blade stabbing into and finding purchase on the stage. That didn't mean he was completely in the clear, however, as he continued sliding downward as his blade cut into the rocky underbelly of the platform.
For half a heartbeat, it looked like that would be it.
Warrior Takemikazuchi came to a stop at last, dangling precariously from the very bottom of the stage.
He remained there for a few short seconds, although it felt like hours to him, unable to tear his gaze away from the incredible but also terrifying view below him.
Eventually, his other hand grabbed on and gripped the rocky underside of the platform, and together, he managed to heave himself up and over.
Warrior Takemikazuchi rolled onto his back and lay there. His hands wouldn't stop shaking, and the loudness of his labored breaths filled the air.
"F-fuck…!" He gasped, holding a hand to his chest. "That was way too close…"
It took a few seconds before his breathing evened out.
'Guess Emiya-san made it out as well.' He idly thought.
Considering that the match didn't end, it was reasonable to assume such.
Indeed. Shirou made it to safety by using his sword-flying technique to clear the distance and by snagging onto another island-platform with his hookshot gauntlet.
The Heteromorph came to his feet, and something quickly became apparent to him.
It was quiet and peaceful.
Too quiet and peaceful...
The Heteromorph half expected the faker to bombard him while he was getting his bearings. Instead, as he looked around, all he saw was a tranquil view.
"[Soaring Razor]!"
He swung his blade, launching high-speed slashes that sliced through the island-platforms around him. They crumbled and fell, revealing nothing.
Again, only the sound of silence followed.
"[Warrior's Instinct], [Premonition]."
Using his skills, he briefly closed his eyes to the world. A soft chime rang out, expanding as the world opened up around him in monochrome. But much like with his eyes, all he saw was the world around him, with no sign or presence of his opponent whatsoever.
"I can't detect him at all…" He muttered, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
While he knew his guildmate could be stealthy, it was typically attributed to auxiliary items or equipment more than any active skills or abilities. However, the rules of the tournament prohibited the use of inventory items, and the Heteromorph knew for a fact that the magus had not selected any stealth items for the tournament. That left only one culpable source available.
'[Carnwennan]…'
[Carnwennan: White Hilt of Shrouds – Divine Tier Dagger]
Carnwennan, the dagger of King Arthur. It was said that the weapon was gifted to the King of Britannia by God, alongside the legendary Excalibur and Rhongomyniad. Welsh legend has it that Carnwennan was bestowed the magical ability to shroud the user in shadow so that no foe may seek to strike down the great king in deceit and deception. It possessed a modest history and legend, often overshadowed when compared to the iconic Excalibur or the majesty of Rhongomyniad.
The YGGDRASIL-made Noble Phantasm possessed no actual blade, consisting of only a beautiful engraved white hilt and intricate black handle. In that regard, Carnwennan was considered more of an item than an actual weapon.
It was originally Nishikienrai who proposed to Shirou to create a weapon or item for the purpose of stealth. Warrior Takemikazuchi played a small helping hand, with the virtual magus being the one to choose and finalize the design and name. It was a recent addition to magus's arsenal.
'He must've 'traced' it when we separated and made it to safety.' The Heteromorph figured.
The ability of [Carnwennan] was simple but no less dangerous. When drawn, it would render the wielder completely invisible and undetectable, comparable to that of [Perfect Unknowable].
It was a powerful tool in his arsenal, and he often used it in combination with the likes of Caladbolg II and others to deliver powerful sneak attacks that left enemies and entire PK parties dead before they'd even know what hit them.
A fact that left Warrior Takemikazuchi stumped as to why he hadn't tried and done so already.
Instead of fretting over the what-ifs, he focused on the facts of the matter.
Shirou chose to remain concealed, despite the apparent advantage.
In that case, there was only one thing left to do.
Using the [Ring of Nibelung], he used the remaining MP to heal himself. He then planted Takemikazuchi MK 8 on the ground, resting both his palms on the pommel of the ōdachi.
And so he stood vigil and waited.
"Your move, Shirou."
[—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—][—]
With Shirou, he had traced Carnwennan and relocated to an island-platform just outside of Warrior Takemikazuchi's range, but still within clear view for the magus. He used [Draupnir] to heal himself and restore his hand.
He was crouched, leaning against a small, broken stone wall.
'Well, that was a bust…'
He peaked over the side, observing Warrior Takemikazuchi, who remained as he was. His gaze lowered, resting on his weapon.
He considered tracing Takemikazuchi MK 8 throughout the fight but dismissed it. While that might put them on equal footing weapon-wise, their skills will be the determining factor. And against someone like Warrior Takemikazuchi...
A warrior dedicated to the single art of the sword to its utmost limit.
A flicker of a smile came to his face as he thought this. He briefly wondered how a match between him and Saber would play out.
A spectacle, without a doubt.
The faker shook his head, reigning in his wandering thoughts.
'Focus!' He still had to contend with Warrior Takemikazuchi.
Shirou blew out a soft sigh.
'Caladbolg II or firing [Trace Bullet] to get him to fall to his death is an obvious choice, and one Takemikazuchi-san already has a plan and counter for. Balmung and Clarent are readily available options, as are Gáe Bolg and Gungnir. Assuming that I can use them before he uses his gap closers to stop me. Όριο would help to restrict him, but it'll hold him for a second or two before Takemikazuchi MK 8 slices through them. But that might just be enough. Nine Lives Blade Works would be the best option, but not even he would be reckless enough to get in range if I pulled that out. Durindana Pilum would be a better alternative as well…'
His mind was a storm of thoughts. He considered each Noble Phantasm one by one, determining their usability.
He thought and thought, his thoughts racing.
There was a solution he wasn't seeing — a path to winning…
He just needed to find it—!
"But I think, above all else, you shouldn't focus entirely on winning and try to have some fun with the tournament."
Shirou blinked.
Momonga's heartfelt words echoed, silencing the storm of thoughts and bringing with it a clarity that stilled the body and mind.
Fun…
Fun wasn't a word typically associated with the magus.
He couldn't care less about the World Champion title or being recognized as the strongest or best. From the beginning, he had his eyes set on the prize: the Saber Class Card.
And now, standing right at the finish line, his best friend's words came to him and he mused back on his previous matches throughout the tournament.
Did he have fun?
The answer, he found, surprisingly, was yes.
Despite his hyper-fixation of winning his matches and performing at his very best each time, he wouldn't deny that he felt a timbre of excitement from each one of them. From the first to the very last: The Mountain, Volcánica, everyone before and after them, and now, Warrior Takemikazuchi.
It was truly a tournament of champions, and each and every one of his opponents challenged him in different ways.
A rush of exhilaration.
A surge of alarm or swell of determination.
And lastly, a sense of excitement with each hard-fought fight and victory.
Winning felt great. Winning was good.
But…
Shirou observed Warrior Takemikazuchi. The Nephilim samurai could've continued attacking to force the magus to reveal himself, or actively hunt him down.
Yet, he didn't.
He simply stood there, patiently.
While the prestige that came with the title of World Champion and the opportunity to fight against highly skilled Players was undoubtedly enticing, Shirou knew that his guildmate entered the tournament for his sake more than his own. Because he knew just how important the Class Card meant to his friend.
Warrior Takemikazuchi had given it his all in each of his matches, but he'd also had fun with it, enjoying himself every step of the way.
And if Warrior Takemikazuchi could do it, what was stopping him from doing the same?
...What was the point of trying your hardest to win if you don't enjoy it?
In that brief moment, something happened.
A subtle shift occurred - imperceptible to the naked eye yet palpable in its effect.
A previously taut tension within him gradually loosened. His shoulders slackened and his muscles eased. His body relaxed as if a weight had been lifted off his chest.
He rose, his eyes drawn to the vast expanse before him. A backdrop of endless blue and roaming white clouds extended to the horizon, and he couldn't help but take in every detail of his surroundings.
When they had first been teleported to their battlefield in the skies, he had scanned the area with a tactical eye, noting every feature that could aid him in his match.
He committed the location to his memory, but never once did he take a step back to take it all in.
Now, standing there, he came to appreciate the peaceful and tranquil beauty of the world above the clouds.
He took a deep breath, relishing in the crispness of the air, and exhaled slowly.
Win or lose, the Saber Class Card will go to him regardless.
In that case, why not enjoy himself, if only to indulge for just this one moment?
