Chapter 61. The Story of Orario's Strongest Witch and Emiya?
The Dark Age of Orario was an era where despair saturated the very air. But even within this despair, there were always some people (or gods) living life in a rather peculiar style.
Astraea Familia Headquarters, back alley.
"Emiya, are you going out?" Ryuu Lion, sitting on the roof wiping her wooden sword, pricked up her ears alertly as she saw Shirou sneaking out with bags of various sizes.
"Yeah, we're out of seasoning stocks." Shirou tightened his backpack straps. "Besides, Kaguya said she wanted to eat 'Special Extra-Spicy Mapo Tofu,' so I have to go to the black market to see if I can find any suitable chili peppers."
"That idiot..." Ryuu sighed. "It's too dangerous. The 'Dark Faction' activities have become increasingly frequent lately; there are even cases of Lv. 3 adventurers going missing."
"It's fine, I run fast." Shirou gave a thumbs-up. "Besides, I have a feeling today is a 'lucky day'."
The so-called lucky day usually refers to—the day flags are collected.
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Half an hour later. Orario Slums, a certain abandoned plaza.
Shirou Emiya stood frozen in place, holding the ghost peppers he had just purchased. Directly in front of him, sitting on a dilapidated bench, was a woman in a long gray dress. She had long gray hair, heterochromatic eyes, and an icy aura capable of dropping the surrounding temperature by twenty degrees instantly. [Silence]—Alfia. The survivor of the Hera Familia, Lv. 7 (functionally capable of fighting Lv. 9), and... the future "Villain Boss."
Currently, this strongest witch was elegantly crossing her legs, holding a book she had picked up from somewhere, but her eyes were fixed straight on the bag in Shirou's hand.
"..."
An extremely faint, but definitely present stomach growl echoed in the deathly silent plaza.
"..." Alfia closed her book expressionlessly. A trace of barely perceptible embarrassment flashed through her heterochromatic eyes, but it was quickly masked by the absolute "pressure of the strong."
"What a coincidence, kid," she said flatly. "Are you here to... present an offering?"
"No, I'm here to buy groceries." Shirou instinctively protected his bag.
"And didn't I just cook for you last time? Are you following me now?"
"Hmph." Alfia sneered and raised a finger. The air instantly solidified, and countless invisible wind blades formed in the sky, aimed at Shirou's neck, limbs, and... the bag in his hand.
"Your choice?
Hand over the food. Become the food. Become a dead man."
"...What do you want to eat?" Shirou surrendered instantly. This wasn't just a gap in strength; it was a "chef's" instinctive compromise toward a "hungry person" (surely).
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Ten minutes later. The abandoned plaza became a temporary open-air kitchen.
Whoosh— Whoosh— Shirou skillfully set up the pot and ignited a magical flame. Despite the crude environment, for a man with [Housekeeping EX], anywhere with a fire and a pot was a three-star Michelin restaurant.
"I only have peppers and some flour; I can only make this." Shirou placed a bowl of bright red noodles radiating a hellish spiciness in front of Alfia. [Emiya Special: Extra Spicy Dandan Noodles (Dark Age Limited Edition)].
"Red..." Alfia frowned. Her body, burdened with the "frail" attribute, was actually not suited for such stimulating food. However, that domineering aroma was frantically teasing her taste buds, which had been numbed by terminal illness.
"If you can't eat spicy food, I can—" Shirou was about to take the bowl back.
"Who said I can't eat it?" Alfia snatched the bowl, picked up the chopsticks (carved by Shirou), and elegantly yet swiftly lifted a mouthful of noodles into her mouth.
"..."
One second. Two seconds.
Alfia's face, which usually looked like a permanent iceberg, suddenly flushed with a bizarre crimson. Fine beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. Her heterochromatic pupils dilated slightly, as if she were seeing the truth of the universe (or the fires of hell).
"Water..." she said in a raspy voice.
"Here." Shirou, well-prepared, handed over a glass of chilled milk (cooled using projection magecraft).
Glug, glug, glug... Alfia drained the milk in one go and finally let out a long breath. She looked at the remaining noodles in the bowl with a complex gaze. It was a fierce gambit between "wanting to eat" and "fear of death."
"What an inelegant food," she commented. Then, she took another mouthful.
"..." Shirou sat to the side, chin in hand, watching this legendary "strongest." Who would have thought that the [Silence] who struck terror into all of Orario was privately... a foodie who would go on a low-blood-sugar rampage if she didn't eat?
"What are you looking at? I'll gouge your eyes out." Alfia glared coldly at Shirou while eating.
"No, I just thought..." Shirou smiled. "The way you are now is much more human than that high-and-mighty witch."
"Human?" Alfia stopped her chopsticks, a self-deprecating smile curling her lips.
"That kind of thing... burned to ash long ago along with the flags of Zeus and Hera."
She set down the empty bowl (having even finished the soup) and looked at Shirou.
"Hey, kid. Your name is Shirou Emiya, right?"
"Yes."
"Your 'sword'... is very cluttered," Alfia said suddenly, her tone becoming like a stern master instructing a junior.
"Though the number of your magic circuits is staggering, the quality is uneven. You are imitating the weapons of others, aren't you? While the form is similar, the internal 'divine rhythm' is worlds apart."
Seen through in one glance. Shirou's heart tightened.
"The essence of projection magecraft is 'fakes'," Shirou admitted frankly. "I cannot reach the heights of the originals, so I can only seek breakthroughs in 'quantity' and 'tactics'."
"Foolish." Alfia stood up and walked to Shirou. She extended a finger and lightly tapped his forehead.
"If it is 'Infinity'... then do not imitate the 'form'. You must imitate the 'intent'."
"Intent?"
"The 'sword' that sent you to this era (referring to Ea)." A glint flashed in Alfia's eyes.
"That thing is dangerous, but its 'intent' to cleave space is pure. Your magecraft is the same. Do not think about 'how this sword was made'!
Think about... 'For what purpose does this sword exist to cut?'
If it is to protect, then infuse it with the intent of protection. If it is for slaughter, then infuse it with the curse of slaughter.
To lack even this resolve and yet dare call yourself 'Infinity'?" Alfia withdrew her hand and flicked Shirou's forehead with her fingertip.
Thwack! Although she didn't use strength, Shirou felt as if he'd been hit by a bullet; his head snapped back, and he saw stars.
"Ow!"
"That's the payment for the meal," Alfia said righteously. "Also, your casting wind-up is too long. Before a true powerhouse, you won't even have the chance to finish your incantation."
"Then what should I do?" Shirou asked, clutching his forehead. He realized this was a once-in-a-lifetime learning opportunity: magecraft guidance from a Lv. 7 (actually stronger).
"Shorten the process." Alfia waved her hand casually. [Gospel]—instant cast.
BOOM! A distant abandoned building was instantly reduced to powder. No chanting. No sign of mana gathering. It was as natural as breathing.
"This is... 'Silence'," Alfia said calmly. "Synchronize mana with breath. No words needed; where intent goes, magic follows.
Throw away those long-winded incantations of yours (referring to the UBW chant). Or... compress them into your blood."
Shirou looked at the vanished building, lost in thought.
'Compressing the incantation? Compressing the chant of the Reality Marble into every breath, every swing of the sword? That sounds like... some kind of high-level 'magic circuit overclocking'.'
"Thanks for the guidance... Auntie," Shirou said subconsciously.
The air froze instantly. The temperature plummeted to absolute zero.
A vein popped on Alfia's forehead.
"What... did you just call me?"
"Uh... Big Sister! It's Big Sister!" Shirou's survival instinct hit maximum capacity instantly.
"Too late." Alfia raised her hand. "As punishment, today's 'post-meal exercise' is doubled."
"Noooooo——!!!"
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At dusk. Shirou Emiya dragged his battered body (physically speaking) back to the Astraea Familia headquarters like a dying dog.
"Mr. Emiya?!" Ryuu, who was sweeping the entrance, was startled. "What happened to you? Did you run into a main force of the Dark Faction?!"
"No... I ran into something scarier than that..." Shirou waved a weak hand. "I ran into... an 'Ancient Dragon going through menopause' (whispering)."
"?" Ryuu tilted her head, not understanding.
"Regardless, it's good you're back alive." Alise ran out from the house, holding a letter, her expression serious. "Perfect timing, Emiya. We have a mission."
"A mission?" Shirou forced himself to perk up.
"An emergency request from the Guild." Alise unfolded the letter. "Massive traces of the Dark Faction were found at the Food Storage on the 24th floor. They seem to be stockpiling supplies for a major move. The Ganesha Familia's main force is pinned down on the 18th floor, so the Guild is asking us to investigate."
"The 24th floor..." Shirou's heart stirred.
'That place... isn't that where I met Dixit in the future and was kicked into the Knossos? Could it be...'
"I'm going too." Shirou stood up straight. "Even though I look a bit rough right now... my 'intuition' tells me there's something we need there."
"Is it really okay?" Kaguya looked at him skeptically. "Your mana reaction right now is as weak as a slime."
"Don't worry." Shirou pulled out a few magic stones from his robe—monsters he'd casually killed on the way (though most were confiscated by Alfia). He swallowed the stones (physical mana restoration).
"Besides... I just learned a 'new skill' today." A smile curled at the corner of Shirou's mouth. Although he'd been beaten miserably, he had indeed realized something.
Regarding the casting techniques of "Silence." And... how to integrate the concept of "Infinity" into every single breath.
"Let's go, everyone." Shirou looked at Ryuu and Alise. "Let's go... wipe out those rats' nest."
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Meanwhile. The abandoned church.
Alfia was still standing there, looking at the night sky. In her hand, she held the bag of ghost peppers Shirou had left behind.
"...Idiot," she cursed softly, but she didn't throw the bag away; instead, she carefully tucked it into her spatial storage bag.
"Sister (Meteria)..." Alfia touched her stomach.
"If that child (Bell) can grow up to be like this in the future... perhaps... it wouldn't be bad.
However..." Her gaze turned instantly cold as she looked toward the Dungeon.
"Before that future arrives, I must... clean up all the 'evil' in this world. Even if the price is... becoming the 'worst' Demon King.
Zard," she said to the shadows.
A man as tall as a small mountain stepped out. [Gluttony]—Zard. The last survivor of the Zeus Familia.
"Are you ready, Alfia?" Zard's voice was as deep as thunder, holding a massive meat-cleaver (also a Divine Tool).
"Yeah." Alfia nodded.
"The curtain on the Great Feud... is about to be raised."
"That red-haired kid..." Zard asked suddenly. "Aren't you going to kill him? He's a variable."
"No." Alfia turned around, her gray dress flying in the wind.
"Leave him be. Perhaps... he can become the 'whetstone' for that 'Final Hero'.
Or... some kind of hope."
The wind surged and the clouds gathered. The final battle of the Dark Age was about to fire its first shot in the abyss of the 24th floor. And Shirou Emiya, carrying his new "cheat" learned from his "Auntie," was rushing toward the battlefield destined to change history.
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