Chapter 25. An Abnormal Status: Slightly Useful, Yet Mostly Useless
A cool breeze blew softly by.
His stimulated body carried a slight feverish heat.
Shirou leaned against the wall, taking a deep, complicated breath.
"That woman... she got away."
Assassin was nowhere to be seen. Having regained her freedom and created distance, she had used "Presence Concealment" with all her might, making it impossible for Shirou to find her. Aside from the bloodstains on the ground, her physical body had likely retreated long ago.
Shirou could have stopped her, but he hadn't been able to move in time because, counting that final move, he wasn't exactly unscathed.
The medium was blood. From the wrist he had nearly sliced clean off, black blood had sprayed. Shirou had dodged with lightning-fast reflexes, but his skin had still been grazed.
The opponent had traded an arm for a single hit. It was a trick that would only work once; Shirou wouldn't fall for it a second time. Yet, it was undeniable that by using a method a normal person could never bring themselves to do, the female assassin had desperately escaped the battlefield.
A mere amount of less than five milliliters had put Shirou into a fever-like state. His perception, concentration, speed, and mental state all plummeted. Without a doubt, this move was a formidable ultimate technique, though its usefulness was limited if it only produced toxins in the blood—she had used it entirely as a self-detonating Noble Phantasm.
Shirou propped himself up and took two steps.
A dizzying sensation washed over him.
It wasn't life-threatening, but it made movement difficult.
Assassin's sole purpose in sacrificing her arm was to stall Shirou, so his body had been hit with a powerful negative status (Debuff).
Shirou wasn't in a position to complain, really. She looked even more desperate than him, and her condition was far more severe—even under the premise that Shirou hadn't intentionally inflicted extra wounds. If she were right in front of him, having suffered a massive gash and the loss of an arm, she would never have shaken him off. The difficulty lay in finding her again.
Wiping his cheek, Shirou began to move once more.
He absolutely could not accept letting her escape without hearing a single thing about the state of this city from the mouth of an actual Holy Grail War Servant.
"What exactly was she in such a hurry for? It's not like I was going to eat her..."
To be treated like a predatory beast—even Shirou would grumble at such rudeness. It wasn't as if her poison was ineffective against him; with enough effort or if Shirou grew careless, she could still inflict an abnormal status on him.
Furthermore... although her strength was so great that she didn't seem like an Assassin or a member of the assassination class at all, she was still, in the end, just one Servant.
Shirou had only defeated one Servant; there were six more existences like her.
The fact that he couldn't detain a Servant for questioning without taking damage showed that Shirou was indeed still "green." While he couldn't say he was completely helpless, he hadn't grown enough to perfectly accomplish what he set out to do.
Shirou set off again.
His speed was too slow; he needed to recover quickly. Just as Shirou thought this and looked up, he sensed a light through his distorted vision.
That light seemed to be right before his eyes, yet it was nowhere at all. It wasn't a physical entity, yet it flickered like a hallucination. The moment he thought "I want to touch it," Shirou suddenly felt his consciousness sink into a pool of warm water.
Both the pain and the burning heat gradually soothed, blooming away into a gentle glimmer.
The toxic effects were rapidly cured.
Supported by that mild shimmer, Shirou's walking speed returned to normal, and the affliction of the enemy's poison was repelled from him.
As if nothing had happened, Shirou was once again able to move at his normal pace.
"Thanks, Saber."
Shirou had actually guessed it long ago—there was something related to Saber inside him. She said nothing and asked for nothing; she simply allowed it to remain stored here.
That thing only activated when Shirou was imbued with Saber's magical energy, helping him every time he was in trouble.
Miraculously, even now, it was still there.
Because Saber was still here. Shirou still remembered her face.
Placing a palm over his chest, where there was an illusion of glowing, the silhouette of a blonde girl appeared brilliantly in his eyes. The magical energy she had left behind from their close contact in the early morning was still effective after an entire day.
Anyway, the abnormal status was cured, so that was that.
Step by step, Shirou continued in the direction Assassin had fled.
Assassin still wouldn't be able to escape. Although she had poisoned him a little, having been heavily wounded, she wouldn't have been able to go far in the first place. Now, the toxins had been almost entirely purged from Shirou's body, while her injuries hadn't healed at all.
This time, Shirou wouldn't let her run away until he got some answers. He could start by deploying [Unlimited Blade Works] to trap her, then take his time with the questioning.
Coming and going as one pleases—there's no such thing as a free ride.
Treading on gravel. Walking through the wasteland. A quiet fire burned in his golden-brown pupils.
Accurately and decisively, he closed the distance on the Assassin he had clashed with, tracking her trail like a sword-wielding pursuer.
Despite the fact that Shirou was a human and she was a Servant, the result was the Servant running away.
He wouldn't allow her to escape; Shirou now intended to catch her and give her a piece of his mind.
He was just a little bit away.
Maintaining his pursuit, Shirou continued to chase after the Holy Grail War participant who had inexplicably fled.
"Shirou?"
But... was it an auditory hallucination? He felt like he heard a voice he shouldn't be hearing.
"Shirou!"
It was also possible the poison's aftereffects were causing hallucinations. Shirou actually saw a silver-haired young girl appear out of nowhere, shaking his body vigorously.
Because she appeared so naturally—without greeting or setup—it took Shirou several seconds to snap out of it:
"Illya?"
It was the real Illya.
He seemed to have a faint memory of her flashing out from his side and then freezing in place.
Her youthful face overflowed with a light, agile spirit. Her eyes were as clear as water, revealing a purity like white flower petals. Her silver hair cascaded down like a waterfall, forming a sharp contrast with her petite stature.
However, the expression on her face looked like she was about to burst into tears.
"Shirou, are you okay!? Your lips are turning a little purple..."
It was actually quite normal.
Shirou didn't have a mirror, but for someone who had been poisoned, recovering to this state was already quite good; regardless, he would fully recover soon.
"I'm fine, Illya. I was just poisoned, that's all. It'll be better in a bit."
After offering a comforting smile, Shirou instinctively tried to keep walking forward. But Illya completely latched onto him:
"Poisoned!? Shirou, what on earth happened? Why are you walking around holding a sword?"
Her ethereal voice was distorted by urgency.
That voice, far too gentle, made Shirou feel like he was losing a bit of his strength.
Wiping away sweat, as Illya gripped the hem of his clothes and walked unevenly alongside him, Shirou gradually explained the beginning and end of what had happened.
After hearing the whole story, Illya stopped.
Not noticing this, Shirou was pulled back as he continued walking. He didn't even have to feign a stumble before Illya gently steadied him.
Turning to look at her, Illya, wearing a complex expression, said:
"You should get some rest, Shirou."
Her clear, quiet eyes gazed into his. It was a look very characteristic of Illya.
"That... the poison is almost entirely gone, so there's no need, right?"
Shirou still wanted to be stubborn, but Illya simply said:
"Shirou, can you squat down for a few seconds?"
Her soft words made one listen without thinking.
Shirou squatted down, bringing his line of sight level with Illya's. They looked at each other, their figures reflected in each other's eyes.
Illya's figure drew closer—
"Illya Headbutt—!!"
"Ow, ow!?"
Illya, who had also given herself a big bump from the collision, shouted with teary eyes:
"Get. Some. Proper. Rest. Shirou!"