Ever since his father had brought up Shirou, Minamoto Raito had made a point to look into the man's background—and had come away deeply impressed by his feats of slaying gods and dragons. Such overwhelming talent was rare even among the Secret Party, and what made it even more precious was that Shirou wasn't even part of their organization. More likely, he was someone from the same homeland as Raito, a kindred spirit.
So, Raito had often imagined and even hoped that if it weren't for his father, Tachibana Masamune, arranging this meeting, perhaps he would've encountered this legendary demigod under different circumstances…
Like a friendly sparring match in an old-school kendo dojo, where both their names would be exchanged through clashing blades; or in a quiet traditional restaurant over kaiseki cuisine and sake, the awkwardness dissolved by the soft strums of a shamisen.
Raito's ideal scenario was one with a touch of Eastern formality and step-by-step refinement.
But he never imagined that the first moment they met, Shirou would instantly see through his family origins.
According to all records, Shirou had never had contact with the Orochi Eight Families growing up. Later, he often traveled abroad, so it was unlikely he would've come across them then either. And the secret of the "Royal" bloodline was closely guarded—no one outside the clan should've known of Raito's rise within the Execution Bureau.
Raito silently wondered—could the Chinese noble families who often interacted with Shirou have dug up the intel and passed it to him? That would be plausible. After all, Raito's surname did point to the famous Minamoto lineage, especially Minamoto no Raikō, a legendary general of the Heian era.
The story of Minamoto no Raikō and his Four Heavenly Kings defeating the demons of Mt. Ōe was famous across Japan.
But the truth was far simpler: the Chinese families barely paid attention to the minor clans in Japan. Let alone a rising youth like Raito.
The reason Shirou had seen through him so easily was because—he recognized the ancient aura of the two swords at Raito's waist.
Having forged blades for so long, Shirou had developed an uncanny familiarity with certain legendary swords. Like a master swordsmith who could instinctively sense a true masterpiece, he could instantly tell the difference between mundane blades and great ones—and even discern their make, model, and perhaps replicate them on the spot…
Well, copying them right there might be a bit rude.
"Impressive. You truly live up to your reputation, Shirou-dono. I am indeed a descendant of the Minamoto clan," Raito said as they shook hands, genuinely impressed. "The current head of the Minamoto family—Minamoto Raito."
"Legend? Come on, that's way too over-the-top," Shirou replied with a wry grin.
Honestly, Shirou was glad it didn't get worse. Japanese culture had a long history of giving exaggerated nicknames to people. "God of Sushi," "Rice Cooker Sage"… they made cooking sound like a divine path to enlightenment.
He feared Raito would throw out something even more cringe-worthy. Thankfully, the other girls had already split off from their group—if Nono were here, she'd definitely be laughing her head off.
"So, Shirou-dono isn't fond of pomp and spectacle."
With a clap, Raito dismissed the yakuza men who had been standing in formation. At once, they turned and silently filed out of the museum's entrance hall, disappearing behind decorative screens. Only a few remained, matching the number of Zhou clan members behind Shirou—an appropriate show of respect.
Shirou nodded subtly, taking note. The Minamoto family clearly commanded considerable influence and manpower.
With Nono absent, Shirou couldn't rely on her behavioral analysis to assess these Eastern families. He had to rely on his own judgment.
From his quick glance earlier, he'd noticed that the departing men wore jet-black suits lined with ukiyo-e patterns and dark neckties—clothing that sharply contrasted with summer wear in China. With their muscular builds and cold expressions, they looked like they had walked straight out of a yakuza film.
He remembered the El-Melloi II Case Files mentioned the Yasha family had a similar "mobster" aesthetic, hiding their real identities under the guise of casino managers and businessmen.
He decided to test the waters: "These men aren't just common gangsters, are they? If your family can take control of a whole museum like this, your financial reach must be impressive."
Raito wasn't surprised at Shirou's keen assessment. If Shirou could immediately identify his lineage, then it stood to reason he'd already done a deep dive on the Minamoto family.
"You're right. Our family is indeed involved in many industries. 'Large-scale' is no exaggeration. As for those men, most are of diluted bloodlines and average ability. There's no need to pay them much mind."
Though Raito was courteous and attentive toward talented subordinates like Yasha and Karasu, he showed no such concern for those without potential.
Shirou nodded inwardly. Just as expected.
Aristocratic families—whether of hybrid or magus origin—were always obsessed with bloodline purity. Talent determined one's ceiling, and lineage determined talent. Breeding among these families was like agricultural experimentation: breed stronger stock, cull the weak.
The best became heads of family. The rest either perished in competition or faded into mediocrity.
The two groups formally entered the sword exhibit inside the museum. All items had been prepared ahead of time by the Orochi Eight Families.
Rare alchemic swords, normally locked away in dark vaults, now gleamed under display lights. Many inferior collector blades had been swapped out, leaving only treasures that shimmered with gold and silver brilliance.
From the moment Shirou entered, his attention was instantly captured. To someone desperate for new Noble Phantasm designs, this place was paradise.
Even the beauty of Nono, Melusine, and Xia Mi couldn't compare to the allure of these weapons.
Women? What women? Women just slow down my forging pace!
"This is the Juzumaru Tsunetsugu, also called the Evil-Slaying Righteous Sword. It's one of the Five Great Swords of Japan. Said to have belonged to Nichiren, gifted by his disciples at Mount Minobu, wrapped in prayer beads—hence the name," Raito explained.
He wasn't in charge of the family's sword vault, but he knew the famous blades well. His own swords—Spider Cutter and Dōjigiri Yasutsuna—were also among the Five Greats.
"The Five Great Swords certainly live up to their reputation," Shirou said admiringly. "Your own swords are among them. I'd say this entire collection ranks at the top."
Raito was taken aback by Shirou's uncanny intel network. "Indeed. These are ancient family treasures, and I only wield them as the clan's top 'Oni-Slayer'."
These ancient alchemic blades weren't just collectibles—they were meant to draw blood. Raito hadn't even considered the possibility that Shirou might be memorizing and replicating their designs.
The Orochi Eight Families lacked the alchemy skills of the Götzingers. Sword-forging techniques had long been lost, making these blades irreplaceable relics. Their own labs had tried to recreate the craftsmanship—but could never match the originals.
Raito also knew his father, Tachibana Masamune, dabbled in swordsmithing. But his amateur creations were so bad that even dusty heirlooms could outshine them.
Still, if these arrangements helped win Shirou's favor and lay the groundwork for a partnership, then the plan was already halfway to success.
This whole display? It was Dad's idea. Raito thought it was just his hobby—turns out, Masamune had accurately anticipated Shirou's interests.
"Oni-Slayer?"
Shirou wasn't familiar with the term, but given Raito's Minamoto heritage, he quickly connected the dots. Like the four great anti-demon families of the Nasuverse, the Minamoto clan likely had a sacred duty to exterminate monsters.
"So that's your family's destiny?"
Raito's pupils shrank—yet another surprise from Shirou, who somehow knew even about the Orochi Eight Families' eternal feud with the "Fierce Oni."
This land was home to hybrids of the White King's bloodline. Unlike the Black King's descendants, these hybrids had dangerously unstable genes—meaning they could easily mutate into "oni" (Dead Servants).
These unstable individuals were either imprisoned by the clan or fled, joining together to form the "Fierce Oni," enemies of the family.
The clan had tried many times to wipe them out—but they always returned. As long as the Eight Families existed, more unstable hybrids would appear.
The Fierce Oni were their shadows. Slaying them was a tragic family duty—killing one's own kin.
Just like in the Heian era, when Minamoto no Raikō and his Four Heavenly Kings once purged the demons of Mt. Ōe…
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][[email protected]/euridome]
[Thank You For Your Support!]