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Shirou's dream once again took him to a place he had come to know so well—a vast, endless plain, a grayish-blue sky hanging low over the horizon, and parched earth filled with blades of swords.
Swords everywhere.
Thousands.
Tens of thousands.
Some stood upright, some were slanted and half-buried, while others showed only their hilts jutting out from the cracked ground. The blades glimmered faintly under the gloomy sky.
Almost all of them were weapons he had inherited.
Imitation Noble Phantasms inherited from Archer's reality marble—the twin swords Kanshou and Bakuya, the oddly curved Caladbolg, Durandal, Gram, and even shadows of the legendary weapons that once emerged from Gilgamesh's Gate of Babylon.
All embedded in the earth like graves for legends.
A dry wind blew gently, making the red mantle he wore flutter softly. The faint sound of metal clinking against metal could be heard—ting... ting...—as some swords vibrated in the wind.
Once, this place felt peaceful to him.
Ironic, indeed. A world filled with weapons became the only place where his mind could rest.
But now, it was different.
Shirou stood in the middle of that field of swords, his body tense, shoulders rigid, his gaze moving warily across the horizon.
He was not relaxed.
Not anymore.
Since the night Rudra infiltrated his dream and shattered the tranquility of this place with that suffocating divine will, Shirou had never truly felt safe, even in his own mind.
Even here.
Inside this Reality Marble, which should be his domain.
He remained on guard.
"If you're coming again..." Shirou murmured. His right hand already gripped the hilt of a sword embedded in the ground. "This time, I won't just stand still."
He still remembered that pain.
The divine wind that tore at his body, the pressure of divine will that crushed even his soul and magic circuits. It wasn't just an ordinary nightmare. It was an invasion.
And Shirou had no intention of being a victim again.
The blue sky remained silent.
The wind continued to blow.
The swords stood like tombstones.
Seconds passed... then minutes... then turned into hours, yet Shirou remained standing there, alert, like a guard waiting for an enemy to emerge from the mist.
The wind in the sword field suddenly changed direction.
Fuuuuush...
The temperature of the dream world dropped slightly. Not cold like ice—more like an aura carrying malice.
Shirou immediately lifted his head.
His eyes narrowed.
Something... had entered.
There was no door in this world.
No gap.
He could clearly feel something slipping into his inner space.
Like a shadow creeping through a small crack.
Shirou slowly turned his body, the sword in his hand raised.
"I know you're here," he said coldly.
The wind stopped.
The vast field of swords suddenly felt... suffocating.
And among the thousands of metal blades embedded in the ground—
A presence appeared.
That aura.
Shirou recognized it.
The all-too-familiar aura of an enemy.
The wind that had been still suddenly began to swirl.
At first, it was just a small gust, but gradually the current gathered towards a single point in the distance. The red dust from the sword field was lifted; the metal blades rang softly as the vortex grew stronger.
Fwuush... fwuush...
A small typhoon formed among the thousands of embedded swords.
Shirou immediately straightened up, his sharp eyes fixed on the center of the vortex without blinking. His grip on the sword hilt tightened.
"So you really did come again..."
The vortex of wind suddenly condensed, then a golden light emerged from within it. That gleam pulsed like a small sun born in the middle of a storm.
In one second—
WHOOOSH!
The wind exploded outward, then vanished as if it had never existed.
In place of the vortex stood someone.
A man with a flamboyant aura that didn't suit the harshness of this dream world. His hair was neatly styled; his luxurious clothes moved gently in the remnants of the slowly subsiding wind.
From his ear hung a round gold earring that shimmered softly.
Rudra.
The god casually patted his shoulder as if he had just finished a long journey, then rubbed his earring with two fingers.
"Well, I've been found out," he said lightly, as if caught in the middle of a small mischief.
The wind on the sword field returned to calm.
However, the tension in the air only grew thicker.
Shirou immediately stepped back a few meters, maintaining distance. His body remained facing the god directly; all his senses were on high alert. He held back the urge to immediately shower Rudra with a rain of swords from the sky.
This was his inner world.
But his opponent was a god.
He wouldn't be reckless.
"Why are you back so soon?" Shirou asked, his voice low but sharp. "Didn't you say before that you'd only come occasionally?"
Rudra raised an eyebrow slightly, then looked at Shirou like someone enjoying the reaction of a boy who was too serious.
His smile widened.
"Why?" he said casually.
He tilted his head a little, as if genuinely curious.
"Don't you miss me?"
His tone was light, and it even sounded like a joke.
But to Shirou's ears, those words sounded disgusting.
The sword field fell silent again.
The two figures stared at each other in the middle of the sea of steel blades.
Shirou snorted softly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a thin smile that resembled mockery more than friendliness.
"Miss you?" he said flatly, almost lazily. "Sorry, but I'd rather have an ordinary nightmare than have to see your face again."
The wind in the sword field rustled softly, carrying his words across the distance between them.
Rudra placed a hand on his chest as if his heart were truly pierced. He leaned his body back slightly, his expression dramatic like a stage actor just insulted by the audience.
"Oh... my..." he murmured. "How very rude."
He let out a long sigh, then shook his head slowly.
"Is that how you welcome a guest who has come all this way to see you?"
Shirou answered without hesitation.
"You're not a guest."
His tone was cold.
"You're just an intruder."
The sword field fell silent again for a moment.
Then Rudra chuckled softly.
"Heh... heh... heh..."
Instead of being offended, his expression seemed even more entertained. The god casually slipped his hands into his pockets, like someone about to pull out a small object to liven up the atmosphere.
"Well... then I suppose I should show you why I came."
His hand came out of his pocket.
Between his forefinger and thumb, he pinched something small.
He raised the object slightly, letting it glimmer under the dim light of the sword-field sky.
"Isn't this your invitation?" he said casually.
Shirou narrowed his eyes.
The distance between them was considerable. The object pinched in Rudra's fingers was small, almost invisible from where he stood.
But its color...
Blue-green.
Softly shimmering.
Its shape was light, thin—
Like a single feather.
The dream wind blew gently, making the object tremble slightly between the god's fingers.
Shirou focused his gaze.
The next moment—
His eyes widened.
His body felt like it had been struck by lightning.
"Where did you get that?!"
His voice exploded across the sword field.
"That harpy's feather...!"
The hand gripping his sword tensed immediately. His eyes stared sharply at the small object in Rudra's fingers, as if afraid of missing a single detail.
There was no mistake.
That blue-green hue like a peacock's feather.
The feather he had placed on that small grave on the eighteenth floor.
The feather from the harpy girl he had buried with his own hands.
Various possibilities flashed through Shirou's mind like lightning strikes colliding without pattern. Had Rudra been watching him from Tenkai? Could that god peer into the lower world and see his every action? Or... perhaps the feather had been in Rudra's possession all along, and he was just waiting for the right moment to use it as mockery?
These thoughts spun rapidly, colliding without finding a reasonable answer.
Rudra seemed completely undisturbed by Shirou's agitation. He twirled the small feather between his fingers casually, as if observing a trivial object that happened to catch his interest.
"Relax," the god said lightly. "I wasn't stalking you from the heavens."
He shrugged slightly, his expression suggesting this was all just a funny misunderstanding.
"This is just... a form of your prayer."
Shirou frowned.
"Prayer...?"
The word felt strange coming from Rudra's mouth. In the next second, memories of that night resurfaced—the freshly mounded earth, the simple tombstone he had made himself, and the whispered prayer he had uttered before that small grave.
A prayer for the harpy's soul.
Shirou's gaze hardened.
"Don't tell me..." he murmured.
Rudra grinned thinly, clearly enjoying the moment when Shirou finally understood his meaning. He raised the feather slightly higher, letting its color glimmer under the gray sky of the sword field.
"Exactly," he replied casually. "Your prayer reached Tenkai... in this form."
The blue-green feather trembled gently between the god's fingers, like a remnant message from the mortal world carried up to the heavens.
Shirou stared at it with a tense expression. So his prayer really had reached the heavens.
His face quickly hardened again.
"If that's the case..." his voice turned sharp, "then why did it end up in your filthy hands?"
Rudra chuckled softly.
"Heh."
He tilted his head slightly, his gold earring glinting in the dim light of the dream sky.
"The answer is simple, Shirou Emiya."
His smile widened, thin but full of mockery.
"Because among all the gods in Tenkai... I am the closest to you."
That sentence felt ominous to Shirou, but Rudra wasn't even finished.
In a casual tone, almost as if reciting a funny story, he began to repeat the words Shirou had spoken before that grave.
"I hope... this girl's soul can be reborn as a human..."
His tone shifted slightly, becoming dramatic, mimicking sincerity.
"I hope she lives happily... finds love... and suffers no more."
Rudra paused for a moment.
Then laughed softly.
"Such a sweet prayer."
The sword moved before Shirou could think.
SHING!
One of the blades in the ground shot straight like an arrow toward the god's head. But Rudra merely tilted his body slightly, as casually as avoiding a thrown pebble.
WHOOSH.
The sword passed by his face and embedded itself far behind him.
Rudra didn't even stop smiling.
Shirou stood in the middle of the sword field, his breathing growing heavy. His eyes blazed with anger, slowly rising from within his chest.
Not because of the mockery directed at him.
Not because of the insult to his prayer.
But because of the way Rudra had spoken, as if a sincere prayer for a suffering soul was merely material for a joke.
Shirou gritted his teeth.
The air in the sword world seemed to change.
And this time, his anger was truly beginning to burn.
Rudra let out a dramatic sigh, as if genuinely disappointed by the rough reception. He looked at Shirou with an expression half-amused, half-sarcastic.
"So rude," he said casually. "Don't you even want to know... what happened to that harpy's soul?"
Those words hit Shirou like a stone thrown directly into his mind.
The swords that had begun to rise into the air—ready to launch like a rain of metal—slowly stopped moving. Shirou clenched his jaw, holding back the urge to attack immediately.
Several seconds passed in tension.
Then slowly, the blades descended back to the ground, embedding themselves with sounds of crack... clang...
Shirou took a deep breath to calm himself.
"Fine," he finally said, his voice still sharp but more controlled. "I'll listen."
Rudra raised an eyebrow slightly, as if amused that he had managed to provoke that reaction.
Shirou stared at him with narrowed eyes. He didn't trust the god before him one bit, but if there was even the slightest chance concerning that harpy girl—
He had to know.
"Don't waste time," Shirou said coldly. "Did you... Grant my prayer?"
Rudra stared at him for a few seconds.
Then laughed.
"Ahahaha!"
The laughter echoed across the sword field, light but full of mockery.
"Of course not."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than several swords began to vibrate again, lifting from the ground like living things responding to the anger of this world's owner.
SHING! SHING!
Several blades shot toward the god again.
Rudra moved casually to avoid the attacks, stepping aside, tilting his body slightly, even leaping lightly when one sword nearly hit his leg.
His movements were too easy.
As if all of this was just a small game.
"Calm down, calm down," he said while dodging another blade. "Your prayer was indeed... beautiful."
He paused for a moment after the last sword passed by him.
"But impossible."
Rudra held up the harpy feather slightly.
"The souls of monsters do not ascend to Tenkai like humans," he continued. "They are bound to the Dungeon. Trapped in its own cycle."
Those words made Shirou's chest feel heavy.
He had already suspected that possibility.
But hearing it directly from a god still felt bitter.
Shirou gritted his teeth.
"Then what was the point of you coming here?" he said angrily. "Just to mock my prayer?"
Rudra twirled the feather between his fingers again.
His smile changed.
Became sharper.
"No."
He shrugged lightly.
"I can't change that harpy's future."
Then he looked at Shirou with a strange glint in his eyes.
"But I can tell you about her past."
Rudra grinned.
The sword field suddenly felt even quieter.
Shirou didn't answer.
However, his eyes showed that he heard every word.
Rudra slowly twirled the feather between his fingers, as if recalling something from the distant past. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Shirou.
"By the way," he said casually, "did you notice anything strange about her corpse?"
That question immediately dragged Shirou's memory back to that underground room on the eighteenth floor. The dim light of the oil lamp. The girl's body hangs from chains. And the traces of that disgusting white liquid on her body.
Shirou's jaw tightened.
Just the image was enough to make anger flare up in his chest again.
"Don't tell me—"
But before he could finish his sentence, Rudra chuckled. "How perverted."
The mocking tone was clear.
He casually rotated his shoulder, clearly enjoying how Shirou's emotions were being stirred again.
"That's not what I meant," he continued lightly. "Although... I won't deny that some members of my familia do have... deviant tastes."
Shirou nearly raised his sword again.
However, Rudra raised his index finger like a teacher correcting a student.
"I'm talking about her face."
That sentence made Shirou stop.
Face.
The memory of that harpy girl resurfaced in his mind. Long blackish-green hair falling messily. Facial features too soft to be called a monster. Pale skin that almost resembled a human's.
And an expression that... didn't feel like a beast's.
"Her face," Rudra continued with a small smile, "looked more like a human girl's than a monster's, didn't it?"
Shirou didn't answer, but his gaze shifted slightly.
Rudra saw that reaction and chuckled.
"Long hair like silk," he said casually. "Delicate features. Eyes that weren't entirely wild like ordinary harpies."
He tilted his head.
"And it wasn't just her face."
Shirou frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Rudra looked at him with a strange, thin smile.
"Her behavior."
He lifted the feather slightly.
"Her feelings."
The sentence hung in the air.
"That harpy didn't just look human," Rudra continued softly. "She thought like a human."
The next moment—
The world seemed to stop.
Shirou stared at him without blinking.
What had that god just said sounded absurd.
A monster... that thought?
A monster... that had feelings?
He had never heard of such a thing.
In this world, monsters were dungeon creatures. Their instincts were simple: attack, kill, destroy.
Nothing more.
Yet Rudra's words shattered that logic with force.
"She was... conscious?" Shirou said softly.
Rudra shrugged.
"More or less."
His smile widened slightly.
"A monster with human-like consciousness."
He casually twirled the feather again.
"Even for a god like me... that's something new."
Shirou remained silent for a while after hearing that explanation. Rudra's words kept spinning in his head like a wheel that wouldn't stop.
That concept felt too foreign for the world he had known all this time. However, before he could organize his thoughts, Rudra spoke again.
"That harpy was interesting," he said, playing with the feather between his fingers. "Not just because of her face."
He walked slowly among the swords embedded in the ground, his leather shoes making a crack... crack... sound on the red dust.
"She had something I rarely see, even in humans."
Rudra grinned thinly.
"Pride."
That word was spoken with a tone that almost sounded like praise.
"A member of my familia tried to break that," he continued casually. "He bound her, tortured her, tried to make her crawl like an animal."
He shrugged lightly.
"But as long as she was there... I never once heard her beg."
Shirou clenched his fists.
The image of the harpy's body hanging from chains reappeared in his mind. The wounds on her body. Her tangled hair. And the expression that now, upon reflection... truly didn't look like that of a mindless creature.
Shirou's jaw tightened.
"And you just watched?" he said, his voice low, almost a growl. "You let that cruelty happen?"
Rudra tilted his head slightly, as if the question were truly strange to him.
"Why not?"
He shrugged again with that irritating nonchalance.
"I don't interfere with my familia members' affairs."
His tone was flat, almost bored."Humans kill each other every day. Adventurers die in the dungeon. Cities burn. None of that is my concern."
His eyes looked at Shirou with a faint glint.
"If I don't care when humans are victims... why should I care about a monster?"
That answer made the air around Shirou feel heavier.
However, Rudra apparently wasn't finished playing with his mind.
He tilted his head slightly, looking at Shirou with a curious expression.
"Now I want to know something," he said.
"What do you think about a monster that can talk like that?"
The question wasn't left hanging for long.
Shirou answered almost without thinking.
"If they need my help... I will save them."
The answer came out so easily.
Without hesitation.
Without pause.
Rudra raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Do you know what that means?" he said casually. "People will think you're delusional."
"I don't care," Shirou answered.
"Adventurers will avoid you."
"I'm ready for that."
"People will ostracize you."
Shirou looked Rudra straight in the eye.
"I'm ready to face the consequences."
A moment of silence enveloped the sword world.
Then Rudra chuckled softly.
"Heh... heh..."
He shook his head slowly, clearly amused by that answer.
"Crazy answer."
His smile widened.
"But I suppose... that fits someone who dared to kill a god."
Shirou slowly raised his hand. A sword pulled itself from the ground with a soft clang, then floated down into his grasp. He pointed the blade's tip toward Rudra, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"Then answer me one thing," he said angrily. "Are there other sentient monsters that you're hiding?"
His tone was harsh, almost like an interrogation.
Rudra stared at the sword tip for a moment, then sighed as if dealing with a minor nuisance. He raised both hands slightly, a surrender gesture that wasn't serious at all.
"Relax," he said casually. "Just that one."
He lifted the harpy feather again, glanced at it briefly before continuing. "And precisely because of that... I want to ask for your help."
Shirou's eyebrows immediately furrowed. He stared at the god as if hearing something utterly absurd.
"A request for help from a god like you?" he said coldly. "I'm not interested."
Rudra chuckled softly, clearly not offended by the refusal.
"Heh, don't reject it so quickly. This time, our goals happen to align."
Shirou felt something strange in those words. He didn't lower his sword, but he also didn't attack. Inwardly, he wondered what kind of game this god was planning now.
"I'm listening," he finally said.
Rudra nodded in satisfaction, then began to speak in a tone far more serious than before.
"That harpy was indeed tortured by a member of my familia," he said. "But actually... only one person truly did it."
Shirou stared at him sharply.
"And that person," Rudra continued with a thin grin, "is still alive."
The sword world suddenly felt colder.
"Impossible," Shirou said quickly. "Ryuu and I already cleaned out your headquarters. No one survived."
Rudra shrugged with an annoyed expression.
"That should have been the case. But that one person fled before our last meeting. He left the others behind like a rat running from the light."
His tone carried a hint of anger.
"Coward," he murmured.
Shirou gripped his sword tighter. If that was true, it meant the person who had committed atrocities against that harpy girl was still roaming free in the real world.
"Who is he?" Shirou asked softly, but his tone carried a threat.
Rudra answered without hesitation.
"A Dark Elf."
He pointed roughly at the height of Shirou's head, giving an idea of the person's body size.
"A little taller than you. Silver hair, brownish skin typical of dark elves."
His smile turned sharper.
"Level three. His name is Isama."
Shirou memorized the name in silence.
Meanwhile, Rudra continued in a tone that almost sounded enthusiastic.
"Kill him," the god said casually. "After that... let his soul return to Tenkai."
His eyes glinted slightly.
"I can hardly wait to punish him myself."
Shirou stood still for a moment after Rudra mentioned that name.
Isama.
He repeated the name in his mind, noting every detail just given. The only person who escaped the massacre at the Rudra Familia headquarters.
All that information was etched clearly in his mind like nails hammered into wood.
Finally, he lifted his gaze back to the god.
"Fine," Shirou said briefly. "I'll do it."
His tone was cold, without excessive emotion.
Then he raised his hand slightly, pointing toward the endless horizon of swords.
"Now leave."
His gaze pierced Rudra.
"If there's nothing else... get lost."
Rudra blinked slowly, then chuckled like someone who had just heard a fairly amusing joke.
"Heeeh..."
He stretched his shoulders casually.
"There's still time, though," he said, raising both hands behind his head. "Why don't we play around a bit?"
Shirou was not amused at all.
His expression remained flat.
In contrast, his hand slowly began to rise.
The next moment—
SHING... SHING... SHING...
Dozens of swords began to vibrate in the ground. One by one, the blades detached from where they were embedded, floating into the air like an army that had just received orders.
The tips of all those swords pointed toward one point.
Rudra.
Without warning—
WHOOSH!
A rain of weapons shot forth simultaneously.
Swords, spears, battle axes—all of them struck from various directions like a storm of metal.
Rudra moved immediately.
His body spun lightly, dodging one blade, then swinging his hand to deflect another. A spear was knocked aside; another sword was avoided with a small step that looked almost casual.
CLANG! CRASH!
The metal blades bounced off, some embedding themselves back into the ground, some shattering on impact.
However, the attack didn't stop.
Shirou lowered his hand slightly, then clenched his fist.
"Trace... on."
Several new swords formed in the air.
Not ordinary swords.
Magic swords.
The next moment—
BOOOOM!
A fireball erupted around Rudra.
Followed by lightning bolts splitting the air.
Ice that instantly froze formed crystalline spears from the sky.
Fire, lightning, ice—wave after wave of attacks exploded across that sword field.
Rudra no longer looked casual.
He was still moving fast, deflecting some, dodging others, but the intensity of the attacks kept increasing.
Explosion after explosion forced his astral body back a few steps.
Finally, the god clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Tch..."
He dodged another burst of fire before leaping backward.
"So that's why you kept your distance from the start," he grumbled, staring at Shirou with irritation.
The wind around him began to swirl, but not as strongly as before.
"Cunning brat."
Rudra grinned annoyedly.
"You deliberately kept your distance so you could shower me with weapons without getting caught in my storm like that night."
Shirou didn't answer.
The swords around him continued to vibrate, ready to be launched again.
Rudra retreated a few more steps as the rain of swords showed no signs of stopping. Metal blades kept coming from all directions, forcing the god to move faster than before.
CLANG! CRASH!
Swords bounced off. Spears shattered. Magic sword explosions struck around him again.
Rudra growled softly, clearly beginning to feel annoyed.
"Looks like I'll have to use a bit of my divine power," he muttered, irritated. "Otherwise, this rain of iron won't stop."
He deflected an axe that nearly hit his shoulder, then stood straight. A golden light began to emanate from his body, radiating like a small sun in the middle of that sword world.
Divine aura crept out slowly.
The wind around him began to tremble.
"I actually wanted to hold back for now," he said, raising his hand. "Too bad that brat didn't get caught in my storm this time."
The golden light grew brighter.
Rudra was prepared to summon the same power as that of the previous night.
Rudra Vayu.
His storm of punishment.
But in the distance, Shirou was already prepared.
He stood still with one hand raised, eyes closed for a moment to focus his mind on this inner world.
On all the weapons embedded in the ground.
On all the blades he had ever seen.
On everything stored within his Reality Marble.
Trace... on.
In one second, Shirou's consciousness spread across the entire sword field.
Thousands of weapons.
Tens of thousands.
Hundreds of thousands.
More.
The veins at his temples began to protrude; the mental pressure of that control felt like holding up the entire sky with bare hands.
Yet he did not stop.
The ground trembled.
CLANG... CLANG... CLANG...
Swords began to rise.
Spears rose as well.
Battle axes, great swords, short swords, strange blades from ancient civilizations—all of them pulled themselves from the ground.
Not hundreds.
Not thousands.
More than that.
The sky of Unlimited Blade Works slowly filled with the shadows of weapons.
Metal blades gleamed, filling the air like a flock of iron birds awaiting command.
Some were nameless.
Some came from legends.
Some were imitations of Noble Phantasms.
Their numbers kept growing.
Until the blue sky of that sword world was filled with millions of hovering blades.
Rudra, who had just raised his hand to summon his storm, suddenly stopped.
His eyes widened.
He looked up.
Then back at Shirou.
"...Eh?"
For the first time since entering this dream world, his expression genuinely showed shock.
The golden light around his body dimmed slightly.
"Wait," he murmured.
The storm he was about to summon did not materialize.
He stared at the sea of weapons in the sky with a face of half-disbelief.
Meanwhile, down below, Shirou slowly lowered his hand.
That small movement was enough to start a rain of weapons that even a god might not want to face.
But before that command was truly given—
Rudra suddenly raised his hand high.
In his hand appeared a small white handkerchief, seemingly from nowhere.
He waved it rapidly.
"Okay, okay, I give up!"
His tone shifted to panicked, mixed with joking.
"Alright, alright, I'm going! No need to be so scary!"
Shirou still stared at him coldly.
The swords in the sky continued to hover, awaiting command.
"Leave quickly," Shirou said shortly.
Rudra let out a long sigh, then waved the white flag once more.
"Oh my... this kid."
He tilted his head slightly, then winked with a teasing smile.
"If you ever miss me, just send another prayer."
His smile widened.
"I'll definitely come."
The wind suddenly swirled around his body.
Rudra's form began to fade, breaking into fragments of light carried away by a small vortex.
"Don't miss me too much, Shirou Emiya."
Fwuush...
In an instant, the god's figure vanished with the wind.
The sword field fell silent once more.
***
Rudra's consciousness slowly returned.
His eyelids opened bit by bit, revealing a high ceiling decorated with the golden carvings typical of a god's palace in Tenkai. The air in the room was warm and fragrant, filled with the soft scent of heavenly flowers.
He noticed something soft pressed against his arm.
A spirit girl was sleeping beside him.
Her long hair shimmered faintly like threads of light, and her delicate body curled up in Rudra's embrace like a kitten seeking warmth. Her breathing was calm, rising and falling slowly in deep sleep.
Rudra looked at her for a moment without expression.
Then, with careful movement, he released his arm from the girl's embrace so as not to wake her. The spirit girl murmured, mmh..., then fell silent again as the warmth slowly moved away.
Rudra let out a soft sigh.
With careful movements, he detached the girl's arm from his body so as not to wake her. His fingers gently moved her small hand aside, then he rose from the bed without a sound.
His steps were light as he walked toward the large window at the end of the room.
Outside, the sky of Tenkai glowed with a calm golden hue, divine clouds moving slowly like a frozen ocean.
Rudra stopped before the window.
Then chuckled softly.
"Heh..."
The reflection of the divine sky light made his shadow appear faint on the window glass. In that reflection, his eyes looked sharper than usual.
Only now did he truly realize something.
The soul strength of Emiya Shirou.
"So... he's not just stubborn," he murmured.
That night visit had only been in astral form—a projection of consciousness that didn't even carry one-hundredth of his true divine power. It was merely a thin shadow of a god's existence.
Yet even with that limitation...
Shirou's soul had been able to withstand his presence.
The sword field that stretched across that dream was still vividly clear in his memory.
Unlimited Blade Works.
An inner world so dense with resolve that even a god could feel it.
Rudra crossed his arms while staring at the sky.
"That boy will continue to grow," he said softly.
Not just his body.
Not just his strength.
His soul.
A soul forged by suffering, obsession, and an idealism too harsh for this world.
Rudra knew something that even Shirou himself didn't fully understand.
An inner world like that wasn't just a magical ability.
It was a reflection of existence.
And if Shirou continued on his path...
That soul would grow sharper.
Stronger.
Until one day—
When the time came.
Rudra closed one eye, imagining that distant future.
When a human would stand before him not as prey... but as an opponent.
When the soul forged by swords would finally be strong enough to withstand the full fury of his divine power.
Rudra's smile slowly widened.
"Yes..."
He stared at the vast sky of Tenkai.
"A worthy opponent."
His laughter was soft, yet full of anticipation.
"Our fated battle... will become a legend."
A legend about something the gods never expected.
A mortal being—
Capable of shaking the divine heavens.