She let her guard down—she didn't dodge.
"Cough… cough…"
The shadow's voice was weak and hoarse, as though squeezed out from deep within her throat. Her form gradually blurred, pixelating as if she were dissolving. The black blood that sprayed out scattered into the air, turning into thin wisps of dark mist that spread through the tunnel and melted into the darkness.
"…?"
Shirou was filled with doubt. Why was the enemy's strength so low? This was completely inconsistent with her self-proclaimed identity as a "god."
But this was not the time to dwell on such questions. He raised his Kiyomitsu blade once again, the edge gleaming coldly under the dim yellow lights. He didn't know what was happening, but striking her down while she was weak was the wisest choice.
Swish!
The blade cut through the air, sharp enough to howl. Its arc aimed directly for the shadow's neck—perfect, lethal, without deviation.
But just as the edge was about to land, her body trembled violently, as though she had suddenly regained vitality from the brink of death.
She moved like lightning, sidestepping in an instant before leaping onto the water's surface. Shirou's blade severed only one of her arms, black blood spraying out and dissolving into mist as it vanished into the air.
"A mortal who slays dragons and profanes gods… today's hatred, I'll remember it."
The shadow hissed venomously, her tone heavy with rancor. Her golden eyes shone coldly in the dark.
"A final warning: though the miko remains with you, in the end she will give everything to the gods. The contract has been forged—her fate cannot escape what is to come."
With those words, her form sank into the water, her golden eyes vanishing into the depths. The shroud of darkness dispersed, dim yellow light returning to the tunnel. The mist dissolved like smoke blown away by the wind, leaving only silence behind.
Shirou stayed on guard, scanning his surroundings until he was certain the shadow was gone, only then easing his tense stance.
He hurried back to Eri's side. Oddly enough, she had grown unresponsive since a moment ago, her movements sluggish.
He looked down at her face. Under the dim light, her features seemed softened by a radiant filter, her beauty made even more striking. Yet her expression held weariness—her eyelids drooping, her body swaying weakly as if she could collapse at any moment.
"Eri?" he called softly.
Hearing his voice, she instinctively relaxed, her body tipping as she began to fall.
Quick as an arrow, Shirou caught her in his arms. She was light as a feather, resting against him with steady breathing, but utterly drained.
He checked her breath and pulse—her vitals were stable.
But the shadow's final words echoed in his mind. He felt this was far from over.
———
The University of Tokyo Medical School Hospital—renowned worldwide for its facilities, advanced medical technology, and research, the top institution in the country. Pure white fluorescent lights bathed the late-night emergency hall, the air filled with the sharp scent of disinfectant.
"Name?"
"Gilbert Jean Angers." The elderly man straightened his tie. His black suit, usually pristine, bore a smudge of mud that spoiled its neatness. "And please also register the patient—Fingel von Frings. Relationship… my student."
"Alright." The doctor adjusted his glasses. "So, your student is in a coma for unknown reasons, and you don't know how it happened. Correct?"
"Yes," Angers nodded. "Young people, you know. At that age, they can't help but try reckless things. As their teachers, it falls on us to cover for their… adventures."
He said it lightly, as though Fingel's collapse was nothing more than a minor accident.
But in truth, he knew he couldn't reveal what had actually happened. He couldn't possibly explain that his student had mysteriously vanished with his beloved car—likely to another world—and then returned headfirst into the mud on the outskirts of town.
The doctor scribbled flamboyant notes in the chart, then smirked, voice tinged with sarcasm:
"You really understand students. To be honest, I've supervised several classes of med interns here at Todai. Those fledglings scribble nonsense in their notes and embarrass me at case reviews. In the end, I'm always the one cleaning up after them."
He sighed about the burden of guiding immature juniors after becoming a senior physician. Then he looked up, as if remembering something.
"By the way, where do you teach, Mr. Angers? With such an open approach to education, I assume your school must be prestigious."
"Oh, I'm merely the headmaster of Cassell Academy in North America." Angers smiled faintly. "We're private, not top-ranked by the world's standards, but we believe in elite education while nurturing each student's specialty."
He handed over a gold-embossed card. "We're always seeking skilled staff worldwide. For example, our psychological counselor, Masashi Toyama, is a Todai PhD."
"So you really are a headmaster! An honor indeed."
The doctor's tone shifted to one of respect. "Please rest assured—your student Fingel will receive the best examinations and the most precise diagnosis here."
"Thank you. I must leave for now. If there are results, or if Fingel wakes, call me immediately."
After exchanging farewells, Angers exited the hospital. Just then, he passed a man rushing in, carrying an unconscious girl on his back.
The man's steps were hurried, his expression anxious. In the light spilling from the hall, Angers caught sight of their striking hair—rare, blazing red, like fire in the night.
"Excuse me, sir, please make way!"
Angers stepped aside, glancing back as they disappeared into the building.
———
Shirou rushed through the emergency intake with Eri on his back. The look that old man gave him earlier—it felt like recognition. But he had no time to ponder. His mind was consumed by Eri's safety.
The shadow's warning still pierced his heart like a thorn. He couldn't relax until Eri was examined.
"Unknown coma again, huh? Strange… that makes two tonight. This night shift must be cursed."
The doctor muttered as Shirou gave the same explanation Angers had.
"Alright, we'll start the tests. One thing—please state your relationship with the patient."
He looked at Shirou, then probed, "Siblings… correct?"
Shirou hesitated. "…Yes."
"Good." The doctor scribbled it down. "You may stay and wait, or leave your number for results."
"I'll wait."
Time crawled during the examinations.
Shirou, wide awake, replayed the night's events again and again. His phone buzzed suddenly—Su Enxi.
"Hey, Shirou the hero! I heard Holy Grail Wars are nighttime affairs—perfect for us night owls! Hope I'm not disturbing you, calling this late?"
"We've almost wrapped up here, should be in Tokyo soon. How's it on your end? Want backup? Just say the word and our no-emotion-girl will charge right in!"
"I do need help. Something big happened." Shirou's tone was clipped.
"…What happened exactly?" Su Enxi stopped joking, sensing his seriousness.
"It might involve gods. I'll explain when we meet."
After the call, Shirou messaged Charlotte to check her status.
Her reply came in under a minute: "It's a Grail War, not the end of the world. How could I be in danger every other day? Stop disturbing me this late." She even added a sleepy emoji.
"…" Shirou sighed at her late-night, ever-busy, instant-reply attitude.
After all, Grail Wars happened at night. By day, everyone minded their own business—who would fight under the sun?
Time passed until finally, a doctor returned, his expression odd, muttering, "Never seen such a healthy case before."
"Doctor, how is she?" Shirou asked.
"Oh, it's you. Your sister's already awake—noisy in the ward. Next time don't give me false info. I almost believed she was mute!" The doctor waved him off.
"Thank you!" Shirou started toward the room, but stopped mid-step. Noisy? Eri never spoke. Unless the hospital gave her a machine to type and play voice?
He opened the door. Her laughter rang out—clear, lively, from watching a comedy show on the ward TV.
"Eri?" he called cautiously.
"Shirou… onii-chan, you came…!"
Her laughter cut off. Her speech was awkward, halting, like someone unused to speaking. But every syllable was audible.
She quickly adjusted her posture, legs off the bed, fumbling for her notebook to hide her lips in embarrassment. But Shirou already knew—she was speaking aloud.
Countless thoughts flashed in his head, collapsing into one shocking conclusion: Eri… could talk.
A mute speaking—medical miracle. Truly, a doctor's miraculous healing!
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][[email protected]/euridome]
[Thank You For Your Support!]