Chapter 53. Emiya Faces a Lv. 7? Is the [War of Sealing Gods] Returning?!
At the entrance of Twilight Manor, a farewell ceremony was taking place that felt as if it were a "parting for life."
"Waaaaah... Shirou-kun! Do you really have to go? You'll be eaten! You'll definitely be stripped clean and devoured by that nymphomaniac goddess!"
Hestia clung desperately to Shirou's leg, crying like a three-hundred-pound child (despite being quite light).
"I won't let you go! You're the predestined Captain of our Hestia Familia (even if you haven't joined yet)!"
"Let go, Goddess-sama." Shirou Emiya sighed, dragging the human weight attached to his leg forward. "It's just a dinner; it's not like I'm walking into a dragon's den."
"It's ten thousand times scarier than a dragon's den!"
Lili added from the side, clutching a bottle of what she called "Anti-Wolf Spray (Special Grade Chili Water)."
"Emiya-sama, if that goddess dares to get handsy with you, use this and spray her! Don't hesitate!"
"No, she's a goddess. Spraying her would probably bring down divine punishment, right?" Shirou deadpanned.
"Emiya." Ais walked over. She was wearing her full set of combat gear today (she even brought a spare sword), her eyes as sharp as if she were about to slay a Floor Boss. "I'll go with you. If that Ottar dares to touch you, I'll cut him down."
"Wait, wait, wait! That's a diplomatic incident!" Finn hurriedly held back his house's "Nuclear-Armed Sword Princess," laughing bitterly.
"Emiya, as much as I want to send guards with you, this is a private invitation from Lady Freya. If we go in force, it will only give people an excuse to talk."
Finn patted Shirou on the shoulder, his expression grave. "Remember, you are the Senji Muramasa of the Loki Familia. No matter what you face, do not lower your head. We are standing right behind you."
"Yeah, I know." Shirou adjusted his collar. He wasn't wearing his usual red-and-white casual clothes today; instead, he had projected a set of black formal attire (modeled after Kiritsugu's style, though without the guns). After all, he was going to see a "Queen"; he needed a bit of a sense of occasion.
"I'm off then." Shirou waved, turning toward the sky-piercing Tower of Babel.
Watching his retreating back, Hestia was still biting her handkerchief: "Damnable Freya... if you dare turn Shirou-kun into something strange (like a puppet that only says 'Long live Lady Freya'), I'll fight you to the death!"
.
.
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Tower of Babel, Top Floor. "Folkvangr."
The moment the elevator doors opened, a suffocating concentration of mana and... ~~sweat~~ killing intent hit him full force.
This wasn't the luxurious banquet hall Shirou had imagined. There was no red carpet, no crystal chandeliers, and no cute girls in maid outfits.
What lay before him was a massive indoor martial arts arena paved with bluestone slabs. And surrounding the arena were people—dozens of fully armed adventurers. They wore armor engraved with the Freya Familia crest, holding various weapons, their eyes like a pack of wolves that hadn't eaten in three days, staring fixedly at the Shirou who had just stepped out of the elevator.
"Is this... the welcoming ceremony?" Shirou's mouth twitched. "Did I walk onto the wrong set? I'm here for dinner, not for the 'World's Number One Martial Arts Tournament'."
"You want to see our Goddess?"
From the crowd, a short but fierce-looking Cat Person stepped out (not Allen, but a mid-level executive). He brandished a scimitar and sneered, "Then first, prove you have the qualification! Shirou Emiya!"
"We heard you're strong—that a Lv. 2 could take down a Lv. 5. But we don't believe it!" "In here, only fists serve as a pass!" "Boys! Give him a lesson!"
"OOHHHHHHH—!!!"
With that command, dozens of adventurers surged forward like a tide. These people ranged from Lv. 3 to Lv. 4—elites who could lead their own groups outside—but in the Freya Familia, they were merely the "gatekeepers."
"Honestly... I knew it wouldn't be that simple."
Shirou sighed, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and tossed it aside.
"Since it's a buffet-style setup, I guess there's no choice."
"Trace—On."
Emerald magic circuits lit up on his arms. The twin blades [Kanshou and Bakuya] manifested out of thin air.
"I'm in a hurry, but since you're all so enthusiastic..." Shirou's gaze instantly turned sharp. "Then I'll play with you for a bit!"
Boom!
The first axe-warrior to rush in was kicked away by Shirou, crashing into a group of people behind him like a cannonball.
The battle erupted.
It was a completely uneven war of attrition. The opposition used typical swarm tactics. Spear thrusts, magic bombardments, shield bashes... various attacks rained down like a violent storm.
"There's too many!" Shirou threaded through the crowd. [Mind's Eye (True)] was fully active, his brain running at high speed, calculating the trajectory of every attack.
"Three from the left, two from the right... Jump!"
He leaped high, dodging an earth-spike spell. The twin blades in his hands danced like black and white butterflies.
"Crane Wing, Double Strike!"
He didn't aim to kill. He used the backs of his blades to strike wrists, knees, and carotid arteries. Every time his blades swung, a man fell.
"This kid... what's going on?!"
"We can't hit him at all! Does he have eyes in the back of his head?!"
"Magecraft! That's Projection Magecraft! Watch out for his throwing knives!"
The members of the Freya Familia grew more alarmed as they fought. This red-haired youth was like a slippery loach, maneuvering through their encirclement with ease. Moreover, his weapons were infinite; if one broke, he projected a new one instantly.
"Dammit! Don't let him catch his breath! Wear him out!" the commander roared.
Indeed, this was Shirou's biggest weakness. Although he had Lv. 3 stats and the [Mind's Eye] skill, his mana wasn't infinite. Without using [Unlimited Blade Works] (which was too wasteful and prone to collateral damage), maintaining high-intensity projection and reinforcement consumed an immense amount of stamina.
Ten minutes passed. Twenty minutes passed.
The ground was littered with groaning adventurers. But more kept rushing in. This was the terrifying aspect of the Freya Familia—that fanatical combat will that spared nothing for their Goddess.
"......"
Shirou's breathing began to grow ragged. Sweat soaked through his shirt. Several shallow wounds had opened on his body.
"Really... a bunch of lunatics." Shirou parried two spears with one blade, but his arms were starting to feel numb.
"In that case, let's... clear the field a bit."
He suddenly retreated, widening the gap. The twin blades vanished, replaced by a pitch-black longbow.
"I am the bone of my sword."
The low incantation rang out. In the void behind Shirou, dozens of golden ripples appeared (the knock-off version of Gate of Babylon).
"Take this—Full Barrage!"
Shoom-shoom-shoom-shoom!
Dozens of projected demonic swords shot out like missiles. They didn't aim for vitals but were precisely fired at the feet of the crowd, triggering a chain of explosions.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM——!!!
Dust billowed. The dense encirclement was instantly blown apart.
"Cough, cough... what kind of firepower is this..." The remaining adventurers scrambled up, covered in dust, staring at the youth standing in the center of the arena.
At this moment, though Shirou looked a bit disheveled, he remained upright. The longbow in his hand had dissipated, replaced once again by the twin blades.
"Who's next?" Shirou surveyed the surroundings, his voice calm.
No one dared to step forward. This Lv. 3 newcomer had forced half a company into submission.
Clap... clap... clap.
Just then, steady and powerful applause drifted from the far end of the arena.
The noisy crowd instantly went silent, automatically parting to create a path. Their attitude was one of reverence, as if they were welcoming a king.
A figure as tall and solid as an iron tower stepped slowly out of the shadows. He wore a simple martial arts uniform and carried no weapons. But he himself was the strongest weapon.
Orario's only Lv. 7. [The Warlord]—Ottar.
"Well done." Ottar looked at the injured men scattered across the floor. His brown eyes showed no emotion, only recognition of the strong.
"You possess excellent technique and remarkable endurance. As a 'starter,' you have qualified."
"A starter, huh..." Shirou smiled bitterly, wiping sweat from his face. He could feel that the aura radiating from the man before him was in a completely different dimension from the grunts earlier. That was... the wall of despair.
"The Goddess is waiting for you," Ottar said flatly. "However, before that..."
He took a simple fighting stance. With just that one movement, the surrounding air seemed to freeze.
"I also wish... to test your 'Infinity'."
"Only one move." Ottar held up a single finger. "If you can take one punch from me and remain standing... I will take you to see the Goddess."
"And if I can't?" Shirou asked.
"Then you'll go in lying down." Ottar's answer was blunt.
Shirou took a deep breath. He had just finished a battle of attrition; his mana was nearly gone, and his stamina was bottoming out. Facing a Lv. 7's punch now... this wasn't a trial; it was an execution.
But, looking into Ottar's serious eyes, Shirou knew there was no retreat. Moreover... the blood in his body was starting to boil.
"One punch, then..." Shirou threw away the twin blades. He took the same stance, and the magic circuits in his body gave a final, roaring hum.
"Then bring it on. Trace—On!"
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