"Archer, could you guide me again later?"
Shirou wanted desperately to re-enter that mysterious state of clarity he'd experienced before.
It had taken him four hours of practice just to consistently hit the tree trunk, but Archer of Black had enabled him to pierce through that same trunk with merely a single instruction.
The difference in efficiency was utterly staggering. Shirou needed to become stronger—urgently.
He didn't want to remain a burden to Saber, someone Saber had to protect at every turn.
"It would be my honor, Master of the King of Knights."
Unnoticed by anyone else, Archer's eyes briefly flashed with quiet excitement, the kind felt by a mentor who'd discovered a promising student.
He had never expected to teach another pupil after becoming a Servant, much less one gifted with such extraordinary talent.
Shirou had only rested on the bed for a brief moment before he felt recovered enough to rise again. Without hesitation, he returned to the courtyard.
Night would soon fall, and Shirou refused to waste even a single moment that could be spent improving himself.
Upon arriving, he noticed Siegfried standing alone, seemingly lost in thought. Shirou approached quietly.
Ever since Siegfried's True Name had been revealed, his Master had stopped restricting his movements, allowing him to interact freely with the other Servants.
After all, the Red faction already knew his identity, so there was no longer any purpose in hiding it. They certainly weren't worried about betrayal from their own allies.
Thus, Siegfried had finally been given a rare opportunity to move freely within the castle grounds.
"Master of the King of Knights, are you sure you don't need more rest?"
Siegfried was genuinely surprised to see Shirou out and about again, especially after Astolfo and Archer had brought him inside not long ago.
"I've already recovered. Besides, the Holy Grail War hasn't ended yet—I need to keep training."
Siegfried silently admired Shirou's resolve, making no attempt to dissuade him. He simply nodded respectfully.
Maybe Saber of Black could instruct me as well...?
But Shirou immediately dismissed this idea, remembering that he had a potentially quicker solution.
He couldn't project Arthur's sword, hence relying on Arthur to train him previously. But Siegfried's sword might be different. Perhaps he could analyze and successfully project it.
"Um... Saber, could you show me your sword for a moment?"
Naturally, Siegfried didn't refuse Shirou's request; after all, he rarely rejected requests from anyone, let alone someone he respected.
"[Trace On—]"
"Judging the concept of creation."
"Hypothesizing the basic structure."
"Duplicating the composition material."
"Imitating the skill of its making."
"Sympathizing with the experience of its growth."
"Reproducing the accumulated yea—agh!!"
Suddenly, Shirou felt an excruciating pain surge through the depths of his mind—a pain so intense, it seemed to originate from his very soul.
The newly projected weapon shattered instantly in his hands, dissolving into fragments of shimmering dust.
"Master of the King of Knights!"
Siegfried rushed forward anxiously, seeing Shirou clutching his head in agony. He wanted to help but didn't know how, his expression filled with worry.
This unbearable pain came from an even deeper source than Shirou's physical wounds. After all, he had faced Esdeath at full strength with only one functioning arm, nearly defeating her—something that could never have been achieved by sacrificing merely his physical life force.
Ordinarily, even activating the [Demon Slayer Mark] wouldn't allow him to break Esdeath's time-freezing ability. Simply elevating his body temperature wouldn't be enough to overcome the freezing cold that could halt time itself.
Instead, Shirou had used the very source of his existence—damaging his own soul—to unleash the blazing power of the sun within the [Demon Slayer Mark]. That was how he'd moved through Esdeath's frozen time.
Damage to the soul itself, however, could not be healed by [Avalon]—or, more accurately, because Shirou wasn't [Avalon]'s true owner, it couldn't heal injuries of this nature.
After resting on that mysterious island, Shirou hadn't felt any unusual pain when projecting weapons, leading him to believe his hidden injuries had healed. But clearly, that wound had sunk far deeper into his very origin.
Now, whenever he analyzed and projected new Noble Phantasms, the terrible agony would return, severely affecting his concentration. Strangely, however, it didn't seem to affect weapons he'd already fully analyzed and projected before.
"I...I'm fine—!"
Gritting his teeth against the searing pain radiating from within, Shirou finished forcefully:
"[Trace—complete]!"
Blood splattered from his mouth, yet in his trembling hand appeared a perfect replica of the sword Siegfried carried.
"That's—a Noble Phantasm?!"
Siegfried stared at the sword in shock, clearly sensing it could indeed unleash his own Noble Phantasm. Although the projected sword's power was diminished compared to his original, it was still utterly astonishing.
No ordinary magus could accomplish this feat. The reason magi were called magi was precisely because their abilities remained within the reach of modern technology.
But projecting a Noble Phantasm—that was an entirely different matter.
Perhaps even more than Shirou's extraordinary magical equipment, his own magecraft was even more astounding.
"Master of the King of Knights, are you truly alright?"
Siegfried quickly supported Shirou, who was on the verge of collapsing, concern deepening in his expression.
Projecting a Noble Phantasm undoubtedly demanded a heavy toll.
"I'm alright...just...my head hurts a bit."
Shirou drove the newly projected sword into the ground, shakily rising to his feet.
He'd expected severe side effects beyond mere pain, but he hadn't anticipated that simply fully analyzing and projecting a Noble Phantasm would leave him feeling as if his body had been completely drained, every Magic Circuit in his body screaming in agony.
"Whew—!"
Taking a long breath, Shirou began absorbing the techniques embedded within the sword. Ultimately, he wanted techniques that were truly his own—something he could perform without relying solely on projection.
Weapons like this one inevitably harmed their opponents. Shirou preferred defeating enemies with his reverse-blade sword, incapacitating them without taking their lives. He never wanted innocent blood spilled by his hand.
After thanking Siegfried sincerely, Shirou left to continue his training with Archer.
---
Nightfall quietly approached.
At that very moment, in the town opposite Yggdmillennia Castle, an enormous garden began ascending into the sky, its massive structure blotting out the gentle moonlight, plunging everything below into darkness.
Countless skeletal creatures resembling dragon-tooth soldiers emerged from the earth, marching relentlessly toward the Yggdmillennia stronghold.
"Are you ready?"
The priest calmly questioned Achilles and Karna, standing at the garden's edge.
"I will definitely make the Black faction pay for what they did to Missy!"
Achilles's eyes blazed fiercely, his body radiating an intense emerald glow. In an instant, he transformed into a streak of brilliant green light and vanished from the floating garden.
Thus began—the third night of the Great Holy Grail War!
---
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