Chapter 340: The Pink-Haired Female Swordswoman
Shirou passed through the gate of light and arrived in a world of the Warring States period related to a certain Emiya Shirou. He took on the appearance of that individual: flame-red hair, a white cloak, a bare torso revealing muscles tempered through a thousand refinements, and a katana tucked into his waist.
Before him was a stretch of scorched, blackened grass, and in the distance was a landscape of raging war fires. Land that should have been used for farming and building houses had now become a desolate wasteland due to the ceaseless struggle between regional lords. What flowed upon it was not water for fertilization, but black-red blood. The once fertile soil had, at some unknown point, become known among the people as "black earth," where crops could not grow due to the excessive number of vengeful spirits.
"Hey there! Youth in front!" A fat, middle-aged man speaking in a Kansai dialect poked his head out from an oxcart and waved toward him.
Shirou turned around and looked closely. The man was dressed as a merchant, with two large dimples that appeared when he laughed like a Maitreya Buddha, making him look particularly festive. However, he seemed to possess substantial capital; five or six oxcarts followed behind him—a traveling merchant caravan.
The merchant chuckled and marveled, "Young man, being here all by yourself, you truly are bold and confident in your skill."
Shirou replied, "I travel alone without any burden. On the other hand, it's truly admirable that you dare to appear in a place where a battle has just ended with such a large caravan."
"Ho ho ho! We merchants of Osaka are under the protection of Lord Hideyoshi! No matter which castle we go to, no army will harm us." The merchant uncle continued to laugh merrily, but a sense of pride welled up within him as he spoke.
"Merchants of Osaka, I see." Shirou nodded understandingly. Osaka merchants were somewhat like the Wenzhou merchants of China; it was a circle of mutual benefit and assistance established by fellow provincials that later grew into a scale famous throughout the country.
Speaking of several famous merchant cliques in Japanese history, the earliest were the Osaka merchants, followed by those from Kyoto, Omi, and Nagoya, with Tokyo coming last.
"Youth, since we have met in such a place, it can be considered fate. Why don't you get into my carriage and let me give you a lift? I have snacks and tea inside to entertain you. If we encounter an accident, you can help resolve it, and once we reach the city, I'll pay you a good price," the merchant said with a smile.
"Aren't you unafraid of this place?" Shirou asked, finding it amusing, having realized the man intended to recruit him as a bodyguard without wanting to pay upfront.
"The King of Hell is easy to see, but the little ghosts are hard to deal with. In this desolate wilderness, if some mountain bandits run out, they won't care whether we have Lord Hideyoshi's favor or not," the merchant uncle said with a bitter smile.
"Then why do you think I can handle those bandits? Do you even know what I do?" Shirou countered with a smile.
"Youth, you really love to joke. Looking at your sturdy physique, clean skin, and the fact that you're carrying a sword, you must be a samurai from a great family out on a warrior's pilgrimage, right?" the merchant guessed cheerfully.
Shirou shook his head and said, "Regrettably, you've guessed wrong. I actually forge swords for samurai. Because I strike iron every day, I certainly don't lack strength, but I'm no good at killing."
The merchant looked at Shirou in surprise and asked, as if refusing to give up, "Could it be that you are a disciple of the legendary swordsmith Master Masamune, who forged famous blades for the Shogun?"
"No, I am merely an anonymous blacksmith," Shirou replied, shaking his head.
Realizing he had been over-sentimental, the merchant waved his hand and complained, "What a waste of breath. But then again, a disciple of such a great figure would have very precious hands and feet and wouldn't risk walking through such a desolate wilderness. Forget it, seeing as it's not easy for you alone, go sit with the driver of the last cart in our caravan. Our caravan will give you a lift."
With that, the merchant returned to his carriage and didn't spare Shirou another glance.
Shirou looked at the back of the caravan and found his treatment had suddenly dropped from a luxury suite to a dilapidated flatbed cart filled with cargo. It was essentially a large door mounted on wheels, with two old oxen hitched to the front. It was packed with goods, and on the front edge of the flatbed, there was barely enough room for one's backside; sitting there was a scrawny middle-aged man.
However, Shirou was not picky. He gave a greeting and sat down.
"Master, may I ask what you are here for?" The middle-aged man driving the two oxen, looking to be in his forties, asked curiously with squinted eyes. The life of excessive toil had left his hair covered in frost, which stood out conspicuously against his bronze skin.
"I am a blacksmith. Besides striking iron, what else could I be doing?" Shirou said.
"Haha, I'd believe you if you said you can strike iron, lad, but I don't believe you if you say you only do blacksmith work. This old man may be incompetent, but after driving carts to transport goods and traveling the world for so many years, people like you who walk alone in a place like this are either desperate outlaws fleeing the law, or... and you're clearly not the former."
"Good eyes, uncle! Indeed... as for me, I suppose I've come here to save the world a little bit," Shirou said with a smile on his lips.
"Hah?" The driver's eyes widened, and he was left speechless. He had to admit that for the first time in over a decade, he had misjudged someone; he hadn't expected to encounter a crazy person.
Shirou didn't mind the other's startled gaze. He simply recalled the words the Witch had used to persuade him and make him willing to come here. There really was no other way, so he could only do every single thing he was capable of, letting the streams flow together until they formed a vast ocean.
"If you wish to defeat the God, you must first present a condition that surpasses the God, even if it is a minuscule condition. As long as they are accumulated, even small streams can gather into a vast sea.
Currently, the white God is a conceptual entity formed by the aggregation of all Emiya Shirous. You must understand yourself better than that God does, knowing the original intention of why Emiya Shirou wanted to become a god. Let the God generate internal contradictions to solve the destructions that Emiya Shirou failed to prevent."
"Surpass a Creator God like that? How can I achieve such a thing?" Shirou had asked the Witch. If such a method truly existed, he really wanted to seek her advice.
The Witch's eyes rolled, revealing an inscrutable expression. She bent her body, lowering one arm slightly in a curl, and performed a bow of respect toward that distant God.
"First, as a human, I must express my respect toward that lovely yet pitiful God. Since ancient times, although there have been gods who protected or pitied humanity, there has never been one like him—one who exerts all his effort and places humanity before himself.
His form truly fascinates me. If he and I were not in such a situation, I would pursue him at all costs."
A blush appeared on the Witch's face, and an aggressive light sparkled in her eyes. From that dangerous and eerie smile, one could see she was not joking.
It terrified Shirou, making his hair stand on end; he quietly tried to step back a couple of paces to put some distance between himself and the Witch.
At that moment, the Witch moved her neck and looked straight at Shirou, saying, "As for surpassing him, it is not a question of whether you can, but that you must! That lovely yet pitiful God has limits. Even if it is not his intention, the moment he became a god, it was destined—he is, after all, no longer human."
"Standing atop a mountain peak several times higher than humanity, there is no way to sit with humans and lazily enjoy the flowers, chat and laugh, or share wine and joy.
While he can create a world for humanity to survive in, he has no way to create anything that makes humans feel happy or joyful. In this regard, you—who can use cooking to bring laughter and a sense of happiness to people—have already surpassed him."
"The power of creation lies in imagination..." Shirou recalled the words spoken by the god's avatar who had transferred his power to him—his other-world self, that robust man.
The Witch nodded and looked at Shirou with approval, appearing quite satisfied with this spontaneous lesson. She said, "Exactly! A Great Peng spreads its wings and rises with the wind, flying to a height of ninety thousand li from the ground in an instant. But it cannot, like a sparrow, rest upon a branch, nimbly weave through the grass, or search for food fallen on the ground.
Just because a high-and-mighty God who does not understand human emotions believes something cannot be done does not mean that tiny humans have absolutely no way to complete it. The areas where you must surpass the God are often found in these small matters of life, yet humans are unexpectedly obtuse regarding their own true merits. For instance, being gentle to family and lovers, being loyal to friends, or taking the initiative to help people and communicate with strangers."
"Are these considered merits too?" Shirou asked in surprise.
The Witch nodded in agreement. "All of these count as merits."
"Heaven has endowed me with talents, and they must be put to use"—this saying is correct. The "talent" here isn't necessarily a world-shaking ability; it might just be a very inconspicuous little skill, but that doesn't mean everyone has it.
Precisely because people have things they are good at, it also means people have things they are not good at.
For example, the ability to read people's faces, sensitivity to the atmosphere, speaking, and the sincerity shown when treating people and receiving guests.
Some are socially graceful and can handle even strangers with ease. Others, despite caring about someone, always speak harsh words, causing the person they like to be hurt instead.
For instance, clearly wanting to help someone but not knowing the method, they can only leave, and inevitably feel guilty afterward. Thus, they feel respect and envy for those who can maintain a warm heart to help others.
When seeing a child crying who might be lost, or an elderly person fallen on the ground, or even just standing up to give up a seat on a bus—some people always have various concerns and hesitate, not knowing if they should act.
Freud once proposed a concept saying that the human psyche is divided into three levels: the Id, the Ego, and the Superego, which together form a complete personality.
The Id is the most primitive part of the personality, the eternally unchanging original desires hidden in the depths of the mind. It represents instinctive impulses, does not consider the laws and constraints of the world, nor does it understand morality or common sense; it pursues satisfaction and pleasure without any reservations—like appetite, sexual desire, the desire for expression, and the desire for possession—just like a newborn infant.
The Ego is the part of the personality that is one's own cognition of oneself. It is the standard by which a person, as they begin to regard themselves as a member of society and compare and distinguish themselves from others, recognizes their difference from others. Through these cognitions, it constantly undergoes changes; that is the Ego.
The Superego represents the ideal self, the perfected self. The 'I' at this time is no longer judged by reality, but by the standard of being 'better' in one's heart.
Because of the Id, people will always have desires and pursuits. Because of the Ego, people know how to observe external evaluations while pursuing those desires. Because of the Superego, people demand more of themselves, sometimes allowing an individual to achieve results they themselves didn't expect, revealing their shining points.
The God, as the collective of Emiya Shirous, should originally have been in the state of the Superego—existing as the Ally of Justice that all Emiya Shirous aspired to be. But currently, he has lost even his Ego, simply following the naturally kind Id and using instinct to save endangered humanity.
The Witch continued, "That God seems powerful and flawless, but in reality, he is carrying a body full of burdens; his own operation is already overloaded. From my observations, aside from actions aimed at the salvation and protection of humanity, he has actually done nothing else. The only exceptions are perhaps 'you' and those three worlds."
"Is that so." Shirou understood in his heart. When he met the Counter Force, he had heard Alaya say that those two worlds were the key to victory or defeat.
"Free of desire and pursuit, without any flaws, yet he also lacks any further consideration or empathy for humanity. He is simply executing a mission. In the eyes of that God, humans are actually endangered animals in a zoo, pandas to be protected.
Although he provides all-around protection—with an ample supply of food and twenty-four-hour air conditioning—they are also kept in captivity indoors. At least humans would find ways to help pandas train in survival skills so they can return to the mountains to survive.
In this regard, because the God lacks emotion, what he does is merely the execution of protection. The care humans receive will only feel worse than what a panda feels. Although their fate was sealed from the beginning, even if they were transferred to another world, what awaits them is still extinction; it is only a matter of how long it takes." At this point, the Witch's lips curled into a subtle arc, and she spoke with a wicked smile.
"What's going on?" Shirou asked in surprise.
"Because almost all of the existences that compose this God possess a passion for helping others that is far stronger than that of most humans, a desire to benefit the world, or an obsession with justice.
While the exterior is powerful, the interior is actually riddled with holes, awaiting the end of that pitiful God. I suspect he won't escape being destroyed when the Counter Force finds an opportunity. But before that, he might choose to end himself. At that time, the world he created will collapse and be destroyed, and all living creatures living upon it will, of course, vanish."
The Witch pursed her lips, which were painted a brilliant red, and revealed a cryptic smile, as if mocking the people of the world, yet also as if laughing at herself.
"In fact, the majority who have no family lineage or any heritage—those ordinary people for whom starting a fire was a great struggle several thousand years ago, the descendants of peasants and craftsmen without status—haven't they now used 'science' to push us witches and magi bit by bit to a dead end? So this time, it shall be you, as a human, who pushes the God to the dead end of self-doubt!" The Witch reached out and pointed a finger at Shirou.
"What should I do?" Shirou asked, looking at the Witch.
"First, how about going to save the worlds where the Emiya Shirous who vanished used to be?" the Witch said with an eerie smile.
So, when Shirou faced the question posed to him by the driver...
Shirou answered like this: "Indeed... as for me, I've come here to save the world a little bit."
However, the driver, having misunderstood that he was sitting next to a crazy person, did not say another word, fearing he might accidentally provoke him into drawing his sword and harming him.
Shirou held his sword and was happy for the peace and quiet. Thus, the journey was silent for over an hour, without encountering any mountain bandits or any danger.
Everyone in the caravan felt at this time that the oxcart caravan, loaded to the brim with goods, could truly enter the city smoothly without any disturbance.
What the people did not know was that in the bushes ahead, a pink-haired, dual-wielding female swordswoman was crouching with an empty stomach.
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