Chapter 58. The Sword of Rupture Tears Through Time! Bell's Aunt, Alfia?
Upon the wasteland, the storm subsided.
The red pillar of light that had torn through heaven and earth, cleaved space, and made even the gods tremble, finally dissipated into the air. It left behind a canyon several kilometers long and seemingly bottomless, along with magical remnants that still crackled and popped in the atmosphere.
"..."
Ottar stood at the edge of the canyon. The appearance of Orario's strongest king could only be described as "tragic." The [Black Armor of Dominance], claimed to be an absolute defense, was completely shattered, and his arms were a bloody mess. Yet, he remained standing—like a monument that would never fall.
"The flag... has disappeared." Ottar turned his head toward the distant, fallen Shirou Emiya, his tone carrying a trace of complexity.
"According to the rules... you win."
As those words fell, heaven-shaking cheers erupted from the Loki Familia camp. Finn let out a sigh of relief, and Ais rushed toward the youth lying in a pool of blood, heedless of everything else.
However, just as Ais's fingers were about to touch Shirou...
Zzz— Zzzzt—
A bizarre static sound rang through the air. It wasn't the sound of a magic item malfunctioning, but something more fundamental... the sound of the laws of the world reporting an error.
[Warning: High-dimensional spatial fault detected.]
[Warning: Spatiotemporal coordinate shift caused by 'Sword of Rupture' projection.]
[Warning: 'Gate of the World' passively triggered. Executing... emergency Bug Fix.]
"Emiya?!" Ais discovered in horror that Shirou's body was beginning to turn transparent, like a holographic projection with a bad signal.
"What is... going on?" Shirou forced his eyes open, looking at his completely vanished right hand and his body which was gradually turning into particles.
"Hey, hey... you're kidding? I win and I still get a ban?"
"Shirou!" Ais lunged forward, but her hands passed straight through his body. No matter how she grabbed, she could only catch a handful of nothingness.
"Don't worry, Ais." Shirou looked at the girl's tear-streaked face and managed to squeeze out a smile.
"It looks like... I'm going on a bit of a distant 'business trip'."
"No! I won't let you go!" Ais cried out—the first time she had ever lost her composure so completely.
"I'll come back." Shirou's voice grew fainter, his body turning into countless motes of light.
"No matter where... as long as there are 'swords,' I can..."
Before he could finish, a flash of light occurred. Shirou Emiya vanished into thin air.
Only the massive crater remained, along with the Sword Princess kneeling on the ground in tears, and a crowd of spectators who were utterly bewildered.
-
-
-
"Where... is this?"
Shirou Emiya felt like he had been stuffed into a washing machine and then thrown into a blender. The intense vertigo made him want to vomit, but his stomach was empty.
"Cough, cough..." He struggled to climb up and found himself lying in a dark, damp alley. The sky was a dull gray, and the air was thick with the heavy scent of blood and dust. This smell... was a hundred times worse than when he first arrived in Orario.
"Did I... travel again?" Shirou rubbed his head and checked his body. Fortunately, although he was still weak, the "transparency" state was gone. Although his right hand was still wrapped in bandages (the conceptual wound remained), at least he was solid.
"But... is this still Orario?"
He walked out of the alley and looked at the street. The familiar white stone roads were pitted and scarred with the marks of battle. The once-bustling Babel Plaza now appeared exceptionally desolate. Pedestrians walked in a hurry, their eyes filled with fear and vigilance. Moreover... the equipment style of those adventurers seemed a bit more "retro" than he remembered.
"Hey! You there, red-head!"
As Shirou was observing his surroundings, several figures wearing black robes and masks surrounded him.
"You look like a fresh face. Which Familia? That equipment looks decent; lend it to us for a bit, yeah?"
The Dark Faction? Shirou's gaze sharpened. How could these rats be so arrogant as to commit highway robbery in broad daylight? Were the Guild's Ganesha Familia peacekeepers sleeping?
"Get lost." Shirou was in a foul mood (after all, being forcibly teleported right after beating a Big Boss), and he had no time for these small fry.
"Ha? Pretty arrogant!" The leader of the black-robes sneered and pulled out a dagger. "Looks like a newbie who doesn't know how to die. Let's teach him the rules!"
"Trace—On."
Shirou sighed. Although his mana was nearly bottomed out, he didn't even need a projection for this trash. He casually picked up a discarded iron bar from the ground.
"Reinforcement."
One minute later, there were a few more "works of art" groaning on the ground.
"Speak." Shirou stepped on the leader's chest, his eyes "kind." "What year is it? Where is this? Why are you rats allowed to run wild in the streets?"
"Cough... are you a monster..." The man looked at Shirou in terror.
"It's the... Age of Gods... wait, you're asking what year?"
After a bit of "physical exchange," Shirou finally got the answer he wanted—and it was devastating.
This was indeed Orario. But... it was Orario seven years ago.
The desperate era known as "The Dark Age." The Zeus and Hera Familias had just been wiped out by the Black Dragon, and Orario had lost its strongest protectors of order. The Dark Faction (Evils) took the opportunity to rise, bringing endless slaughter and chaos to the city. The Astraea Familia was still active (meaning Ryuu's companions were still alive). And the legendary "Monster of Monsters"—Silence and Gluttony—loomed over the city.
"You've got to be kidding..." Shirou held his forehead, his headache worsening.
"Not only did I cross space, but I also crossed time? What kind of hardcore 'New Game+' dungeon is this!"
Furthermore, if this was seven years ago, he was a "ghost" resident. No Familia, no identity, and he didn't even have legal currency for this era (the gold coin designs from seven years ago were slightly different).
Grumble... His stomach protested. Even a Heroic Spirit would starve to death without food.
"I need to find a way to get some food first..." Shirou left the black-robe and began to wander the streets.
Unwittingly, he walked near an abandoned church. It was secluded, overgrown with weeds, looking like a haunted house from a horror film.
"Hmm?" [Mind's Eye] suddenly caught a scent... extremely faint, but exceptionally "delicious" (referring to mana purity). Not food, but... some kind of high-level "existence."
Shirou instinctively walked toward it. In the backyard of the church, by a withered flowerbed, stood a woman.
She wore a long gray dress made of material that looked expensive but subtle in style. Her hair was gray, like the ash left after a fire. But most striking were her eyes: one green, one gray. Heterochromia.
She stood there silently, looking at a small flower blooming tenaciously amidst the ruins. Even just from her back, she radiated a sense of... loneliness that froze the surrounding air, and a suffocating pressure countless times more terrifying than Ottar's.
"Excuse me..." Shirou was about to ask for directions (and if there was any food).
"Silence."
The woman did not turn around. Her voice was light and cold—like winter snowflakes landing on skin, icy to the bone.
"Don't wake it." She pointed at the flower.
Shirou blinked. This woman was strange. She radiated an "I am strong, don't mess with me" aura, yet she was worried about a flower?
"Um... sorry to bother you." Shirou scratched his head.
"I'm just passing through and wanted to ask... is there anywhere to eat around here? I'm lost, and... I'm penniless."
"..." The woman finally turned around. Those heterochromatic eyes swept coldly over Shirou. It was a gaze used to looking at an ant by the road, or a speck of dust.
"Lost?" The corner of her mouth curled into a faint, mocking arc.
"In this hell, everyone is lost."
She looked Shirou up and down. Red hair, strange clothes, a bandaged right hand, and... the radiant glow of a soul that was weak but still pure.
"Interesting," she whispered. "You're on the verge of death (mana exhaustion), yet you're worried about your stomach?"
She casually tossed something over. Shirou instinctively caught it. An... apple? Red and looking very fresh.
"Eat," the woman said flatly. "And when you're done, get lost. Don't die in front of me; it's an eyesore."
"Uh... thanks." Shirou didn't stand on ceremony; he wiped the apple and took a bite. It was sweet.
"I'm Shirou Emiya," he introduced himself between bites. "I'm a... blacksmith. And you?"
The woman was silent for a moment, as if considering whether to tell this ant her name. Finally, she turned back toward the flower.
"Alfia."
Pffft— cough, cough, cough! Shirou nearly choked to death on the apple.
Alfia?! The legendary... [Silence]?! The top executive of the Hera Familia? The super-monster who possessed the concept of "Talent" itself, could suppress a Lv. 7, and even solo a Floor Boss?!
"Are you... alright?" Alfia frowned, looking at the violently coughing Shirou with a look that suggested she was watching an idiot.
"I'm—I'm fine..." Shirou patted his chest, a storm raging in his heart. E-rank Luck really lives up to its name. He had just landed and immediately encountered the final boss of this era (though perhaps she hadn't fully turned dark yet?).
"So... Miss Alfia," Shirou asked cautiously, "What are you... doing here?"
"Waiting," Alfia's voice remained cold. "Waiting for a... similarly hopeless fool (referring to Zard/Gluttony)."
"And..." She suddenly turned her head, her heterochromatic eyes staring intensely at Shirou.
"Inside your body... there are many 'swords' hidden, aren't there?"
'She saw through it?! In a single glance?!'
"Furthermore..." Alfia narrowed her eyes, the look of a hunter discovering prey. "Your mana flow... is very strange. You don't look like someone from this era.
You wouldn't happen to be... from that 'future,' would you?"
"!!!" Cold sweat poured down Shirou's back. Was this woman's intuition a cheat?!
"Uh... if I said I was just passing by, would you believe me?"
"No." Alfia raised her hand. The mana in the air instantly solidified. Countless invisible wind blades formed around her.
"Since you ate my apple...
Then stay with me... to pass the time.
As payment, if you survive...
I'll buy you a proper meal."
Boom! Before the words had even faded, the wind blades were already sweeping toward him.
"Wait! I'm still an injured person!" Shirou screamed, forced to pull out the broken iron sword he had picked up from the roadside.
"Trace—On!"
This was Shirou Emiya's first day in the Dark Age. A one-sided "pre-meal exercise" at the hands of the legendary strongest mage (Auntie) to pass the time.
In this desperate era, the red Heroic Spirit and the gray Witch—the fates of these two, in an extremely absurd manner, had become intertwined.
Read ahead (40 chapters) by supporting me on buymeacoffee com/varietl or ko-fi edwriting