Dungeon — Floor 20, "Hidden Village."
This was a corner the world had forgotten, the only sanctuary the Xenos possessed.
No adventurers' blades.
No monsters' screams.
Only the soft murmur of an underground river, and the quiet glow of luminous moss painting the cavern in a tranquil light.
Today, however, that peace was interrupted by a rhythmic metallic clanging.
Clink! Clink! Clink!
In the center of the plaza, Shirou Emiya held a crude hammer (in truth, a stone hardened by Structural Reinforcement) and was giving a chipped greatsword some very physical "persuasive education."
"This section is completely fatigued. If you swing it hard two more times, it'll snap right down the middle."
He hammered as he spoke, frowning like an engineer witnessing a crime scene.
"And the balance point… this is practically anti-human design. I know you're not human, but that doesn't mean you have to abuse your weapons like this."
"W-Well… sorry…"
Standing opposite him was one of the Xenos leaders—Lyd, the lizardman. Over two meters tall, covered in crimson scales, built like a wall…
Yet right now he looked like a guilty grade-schooler, neck tucked in, listening to Shirou's lecture without daring to argue.
"And this material…"
Shirou's fingers slid along the blade, and Structural Analysis finished its scan instantly.
"Less than five percent orichalcum. The rest is junk iron. Where did you buy this—some black-hearted merchant?"
"Uh… it was from a raid… I mean, we found it."
Lyd scratched his scaled head awkwardly.
"We can't go to surface shops. We just… make do."
"…Hah."
Shirou exhaled and set the "scrap" down.
As a craftsman of counterfeits who carried Unlimited Blade Works in his bones—and as someone who had inherited a certain overly responsible 'hero of justice' mother-hen trait—he simply could not tolerate this level of slapdash equipment in front of his eyes.
This wasn't mere obsession.
This was professional ethics.
Sword-bones weren't a joke!!!
"Trace—On."
Emerald circuits flared and crawled down his arm, wrapping around the greatsword like living veins.
"Projecting… Reinforcement!"
He didn't reforge it—there was no furnace here.
Instead, Shirou chose the simplest, bluntest method: magical infusion.
He forced his mana into the metal's microscopic gaps like mortar poured into cracks, restoring internal fractures and temporarily imprinting a conceptual upgrade:
Hardness +50% (temporary).
Hummmm—!
The dull, battered blade snapped into a sharper existence.
Cold light skated along the edge, and a faint pulse of mana shimmered over the surface.
"Fixed."
Shirou tossed it back to Lyd.
"It's only reinforcement, not a proper rebuild—but you'll be able to cleave through a few more half-orc bones without it exploding in your hands."
"O-OOOOOH!"
Lyd swung it once, hearing the crisp whistle through the air. Even his tail started slapping the ground in rhythm.
"This is insane! Is this the technique of Senji Muramasa?! It feels better than brand new!"
That line alone detonated the entire crowd.
"Line up! Line up!"
"I want repairs too—my claw gauntlets are broken!"
"Shirou-sama! My broom (weapon) snapped!"
The moment they saw Lyd's weapon "revive," the onlookers erupted.
Goblins, orcs, harpies… all kinds of Xenos rushed into a long, chaotic queue, holding every imaginable piece of battered gear, their eyes sparkling with worship for the "artisan god" (unofficial).
"One at a time. Don't push."
Shirou rolled up his sleeves with a helpless smile.
"…Looks like lunch is getting delayed."
Off to the side, Lili sat on a rock, staring at the red-haired boy being swarmed by monsters. Her expression had evolved from terror… to numb acceptance.
"Not only cooking, but repairing equipment too…"
She muttered with the tired voice of someone whose soul had given up.
"Emiya-sama, are you trying to max out the 'logistics manager' skill tree? Do you remember you're a Level 2 swordsman?"
"Any work that helps is worth doing."
Shirou—currently polishing a gargoyle's claws—looked back and gave her that signature honest smile, the one that made it impossible to stay angry.
Lili froze for a beat, then lowered her head, lips barely curling.
"…Honestly. What an idiot."
…
Afternoon.
The repair session finally slowed.
To reward their hardworking "human volunteer," the Xenos brought out their hoarded ingredients:
Dungeon-grown fruits, monster meat, and even a bottle of good alcohol Fels had carried down.
A feast began in the Hidden Village plaza—one that crossed species, language, and fear.
"Cheers!"
"To Shirou!"
"To Wiene!"
They gathered around the bonfire.
Some of the lower-level Xenos couldn't speak at all, but joy didn't need translation.
Shirou held a cup of fruit wine, watching Wiene play with Marie (the mermaid) and Ray (the siren girl). The little dragon girl had completely relaxed, wearing the "new outfit" Shirou had made her (a resized adult shirt), smiling so brightly it hurt to look at.
"So…"
A low, hoarse voice rose beside him—deep enough that it seemed to carry its own echo.
"…This is what you want to protect?"
Shirou turned.
Sitting next to him was the towering black minotaur—Asterios.
Unlike the others, he wasn't celebrating.
He sat quietly, holding a massive bone-in slab of meat, eyes reflecting the firelight like a deep, still lake.
"Something like that."
Shirou took a sip.
"It's noisy… but not bad."
"Humans… are strange."
Asterios bit down, chewing slowly.
"Most humans… when they see us… want to kill. Or run."
He looked at Shirou directly.
"You… aren't afraid?"
"I am."
Shirou shrugged.
"The first time I saw that black Goliath, I nearly jumped out of my skin."
"But…"
He tapped his chest lightly.
"Fear is instinct. Understanding is a choice."
"When you realize the so-called 'monsters' can laugh, cry, and get angry for their friends…"
"…fear turns into curiosity."
"And curiosity… becomes acceptance."
"Understanding…"
Asterios repeated the word as if tasting it.
He was a warrior reborn for strength—his world used to contain only combat.
But after encountering that white-haired boy (Bell Cranel—destiny still echoing even in a twisted route), and now this red-haired boy…
His worldview was changing in ways he couldn't name.
Then Asterios stood.
His shadow swallowed Shirou whole.
He tossed away the bone and clenched his fists.
The air snapped with pressure.
"If you aren't afraid…"
His eyes ignited with battle intent.
"Then… fight."
"Huh?"
Shirou blinked.
"Now?"
"Now."
Asterios' fist tightened, the air popping like a whip crack.
"You said… you'd show me 'Unlimited.'"
"Now you… have mana."
"Body… also hard."
"I want to know… if my power now… can break your 'shell.'"
The entire plaza fell silent.
Wiene stopped mid-laugh.
Lyd set his cup down.
All Xenos turned toward them.
This wasn't a casual spar.
It was the strongest Xenos issuing a challenge—
a ritual between warriors.
"…Seriously."
Shirou set his cup down, stood, and dusted off his trousers.
The warmth in his eyes faded, replaced by a sharp edge—something like Muramasa's steel.
"Working out right after eating? Careful you don't get stomach drop."
He complained—
but his hand was already raising, empty fingers closing around invisible weight.
"Still… if you're inviting me that enthusiastically…"
"Trace—On."
Twin blades manifested in midair:
Kanshou and Bakuya—black and white.
"Alright then, big guy."
Shirou lifted the pair, amber eyes bright with heat.
"I've been curious too…"
"…whether I can cut off your horn."
…
In the open space, man and bull faced each other.
No referee. No countdown.
The instant a dry leaf fluttered down—
"ROOOAAAR—!!"
Asterios moved.
No feints. No tricks.
Pure strength. Pure speed.
A runaway heavy tank made flesh, charging with the intent to crush everything.
That massive fist carried wind pressure so violent it felt like it could crack the air itself.
"He's fast!"
Lili cried out despite herself.
That size moving like that was cheating.
Shirou didn't retreat.
If it were the old him, he might have dodged.
But now he was Level 2.
A monster with all attributes pushed into absurd territory.
"Steel is my body—!"
Emerald circuits flooded over his entire form.
He bent his knees, dropped his center of gravity, and crossed the twin blades before his chest.
"Blocking head-on?!"
Even Fels' ghostly flames flickered.
BOOM—!!
The impact shook the Hidden Village.
Stone cracked beneath them, shards blasting outward.
The shockwave kicked up a gale that made the bonfire twist wildly.
When the dust settled—
Shirou's feet had carved two deep trenches through the ground, sliding him back five meters.
But he didn't fall.
His arms didn't even tremble.
"He… blocked it?!"
Lyd's jaw nearly hit the floor.
"That was Asterios' full-force punch! Even a Level 3 heavy fighter would've been launched!"
"Heh."
Shirou grinned—wild, arrogant.
He stared at the stunned black bull.
"Good power."
"But if this is all you've got…"
"…it's not enough to break my 'shell.'"
"ROAR!"
Asterios' battle intent flared even hotter.
He answered with action—
Left fist, right fist, elbow, knee—
a storm of blows, relentless and brutal.
Shirou met it head-on.
Mind's Eye (True) fully open.
He flowed through the shadows of the punches, using Kanshou and Bakuya to block, deflect, and unload force—
and he wasn't only defending.
He was countering.
"Crane Wing—Twofold!"
Catching a gap, Shirou dipped low, the twin blades scissoring toward Asterios' knees.
CLANG!
Sparks exploded.
Asterios' hide was hard as steel—only shallow pale marks remained.
"So hard…!"
Shirou clicked his tongue.
"Your defense is monster-class too?"
"Then…"
Shirou stepped back.
The twin blades vanished.
In their place: a black bow.
Asterios surged forward, refusing to give distance—
But in that instant, Shirou didn't nock an arrow.
He slammed his left palm into the ground.
"I am the bone of my sword."
VMMM!
A dozen blades erupted from the earth—not to kill, but to bind.
A cage of swords snapped into existence, snagging Asterios' steps for a heartbeat.
"Magic—?!"
In that single second—
Shirou drew the bowstring to the limit.
"Caladbolg (Fake)—Spiral Sword… point-blank loading!"
He didn't fire it.
Instead, he treated the space-twisting demonic blade like a close-range battering ram—
and drove it into Asterios' chest.
BOOOOM—!!
Mana detonated at zero distance.
For the first time, Asterios was forced back.
He staggered, chest scorched with a blackened mark.
"Not done yet!"
Shirou threw the bow aside and raised both hands again.
This time, his circuits screamed under overload.
"Trace—Overedge! (Crane Wing: Grand System!)"
Kanshou and Bakuya expanded—
massively—
becoming two enormous wing-shaped greatswords, each nearly two meters long.
Shirou launched upward, then fell with gravity as his ally—
and swung down a killing stroke.
"Cut!"
Asterios crossed his arms to block.
CRACK—!
A crisp snapping sound rang out—
Not bone.
The hardest horn-like keratin plating on Asterios' arms split open.
Blood welled.
The fight stopped.
Shirou landed, the giant blades dissolving, breathing hard.
Asterios stared at the wound in silence.
Then he pulled his mouth wide—
rows of white teeth—
and formed something unmistakable.
A smile.
"…Good."
Asterios said quietly.
"You… are qualified."
"Hah…"
Shirou wiped sweat from his brow.
"Obviously."
"If I can't even break your skin…"
"…how am I supposed to call myself a 'hero of justice'?"
"Next time…"
The light in Asterios' eyes calmed into something sharp and steady.
"Next time… will be life and death."
"Yeah."
Shirou answered without hesitation.
"Anytime."
They looked at each other and smiled—
(though a bull's smile was… admittedly terrifying).
Around them, the Xenos erupted into cheers.
Wiene sprinted over and hugged Shirou's leg.
"Shirou is amazing! You even beat Asterios!"
"I didn't."
Shirou gently patted her head.
"If it were a real deathmatch, I'd be out of mana right now."
"He… still hasn't shown his real card."
Yes.
Asterios hadn't even brought out his iconic double-bladed axe yet.
His power wasn't just brawling.
But this was enough.
This fight proved Shirou had earned his "right" to stand in the deepest part of the Dungeon.
…
And yet—
That warmth didn't last.
BOOOOM—!!
A sudden explosion thundered from the village entrance.
Not an ordinary blast—
one saturated with violent magical resonance.
"What?!"
Lyd's face twisted. He grabbed his greatsword and charged toward the entrance.
"An invasion?!"
"That aura…"
Fels' ghostly flames flared wildly.
"The barrier has been broken! Impossible—this location isn't even known to the Guild!"
"No need to guess."
Shirou's expression iced over.
Mind's Eye (True) caught a familiar, nauseating malice—
sticky, damp, greedy, deranged.
"It's them."
His fists clenched.
Killing intent boiled in his amber eyes.
"The Ikelos Familia."
As his words fell—
A flood of hunters in black stealth cloaks poured through the blasted opening.
And at the very front—
A man with one arm and one leg replaced by prosthetics, wearing an even more grotesque mask—
Dix Perdix—
laughed like a madman.
"HAHAHAHA! Found you! Found you!"
He leveled his spear at the plaza—at Wiene, and at Shirou.
"This time you can't run! Senji Muramasa! And that dragon girl!"
He yanked out a pitch-black crystal orb and slammed it to the ground.
Crack!
Black smoke burst outward.
Not ordinary smoke—
The Berserk Curse.
"Aaaagh—!"
A few goblins near the entrance inhaled it.
Their eyes turned blood-red instantly, and they began tearing into their own comrades.
"My boys!"
Dix snarled with delight.
"The carnival starts now!"
"Except the dragon girl—kill them all!"
"Turn this place into hell!"
ROOOAAAR—!!
A paradise became a slaughterhouse in a heartbeat.
"Lili—take Wiene and get to Fels!"
Shirou's roar cut through the chaos.
His mana circuits exploded to full output.
"Steel is my body—!"
He drew Kanshou without hesitation—
and became a red lightning bolt, charging straight into the invading wave.
"DIX—!!"
This wasn't sparring.
This wasn't testing.
This was war.
War for "family."
War that demanded blood.
"If you want to die that badly…"
Shirou's eyes were colder than ice—
but his sword burned like fire.
"Then I'll grant your wish!"
"Unlimited Blade Works—Partial Deployment!"
....
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