Chapter 77. Forging the Sword of the End... A Blade That Can Truly Sever the Obsessions of Gods
Today's sunlight was as generous as ever, shining down on adventurers who were red-faced from arguing with street vendors over a few valis. However, this mundane, everyday atmosphere was completely shattered at noon by a tremolo coming from deep within the earth.
RUMBLE—
It wasn't an earthquake, but a rhythmic vibration, as if the entire city were resonating with a certain heartbeat. At the giant stone gates at the base of Babel, the barrier magic circles—originally intended to suppress the Dungeon's mana—were currently letting out a shriek like a dying pig.
"What happened? Are those Evilus rats blowing up the latrines again?"
"Don't talk nonsense! That kind of mana pressure... it's clearly a Floor Boss trying to break through the gate! Run, call the Ganesha Familia!"
Just as the plaza fell into chaos and passersby flipped into flight mode, a pillar of golden light that pierced through the heavens erupted from the forbidden area known as the Great Hole at the very bottom of Babel.
Within that golden torrent, several figures fell steadily onto the white marble floor, like travelers passing through time and space.
Leading them was a red-haired youth. He wore a red-and-white jacket that was already tattered beyond repair, serving almost purely as decoration. His eyes held the weary look of someone who had just been released from high-intensity overtime work. But the most striking thing was his right hand.
That hand was currently shimmering with a crystal-clear luster. Even under the high noon sun, that warm, jade-like, yet indestructible golden glow could not be ignored.
"Phew... the air on the surface is better after all. Even if it's full of sweat and the scent of scammers, at least I don't have to worry about the World's Will forcibly uninstalling me." Shirou Emiya let out a long sigh, habitually moving his right hand. He expected it to pass through the air as before, but now, the firm, heavy, and explosive sense of reality made him clearly realize that he had taken root in this land completely.
"Emiya! Stop dazing off and dim your light! The Guild's military police are already sticking their spears in my nose!" Bete Loga's impatient snark came from behind. The werewolf youth's current state wasn't much better—he was covered in soot—but that didn't stop his mouth from maintaining a steady output.
"Captain Finn! It's Captain Finn! The Loki Familia expedition is back! Wait, how did they come out of the Great Hole? Doesn't that lead to the Abyss?!"
After a brief, dead silence, the crowd in the plaza erupted into a tsunami-like cheer. Finn Deimne stood beside Shirou, habitually wiping a spear that hadn't a speck of blood on it, flashing that "Braver" smile capable of making thousands of girls (and some boys) swoon.
"Mission accomplished, everyone." Finn's voice, boosted by mana, easily covered the entire plaza. "We didn't just conquer the 59th floor; we went even deeper... to perform some environmental maintenance."
'Environmental maintenance? '
Shirou Emiya rolled his eyes internally. If blasting the Executioner of the 60th floor into mosaics counted as environmental maintenance, then he, the lead actor, should probably get an Orario Outstanding Janitor Medal.
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An hour later, Twilight Manor.
The Loki Familia headquarters had turned into a boiling pot of oil. It wasn't because of the expedition's treasures—though the "Void Crystals" they brought back were priceless—it was because of the red-haired monster sitting in the dining hall, his right hand glowing with a soft golden light as he slowly munched on a cheese potato puff.
"So..." Loki crouched on her chair, her normally squinted eyes wide as lightbulbs. Her trickster face, usually full of cunning, now held only a philosophical contemplation of 'Who am I? Where am I?'.
"Your right hand, because it was rejected by the Dungeon, decided to project itself into reality? And it's a physical form merged with the Protection of Artemis, Stardust Steel, and some messy Void Energy?"
"Probably something like that," Shirou answered indistinctly, handing a potato puff to Haruhime, who was staring blankly beside him.
"Actually, it feels like after a computer broke, I hand-forged a higher-grade piece of hardware and swapped it in. The system is the same as before, but the graphics card performance is through the roof."
"What the hell is a graphics card! Can you boy talk like a human being that a God can understand?!" Loki grabbed her hair in a collapse, turning to Riveria. "Mama-sama, is there a record of this in your grimoires?"
Riveria Ljos Alf, the noble Elven royalty, was currently holding a pair of delicate tweezers, trying to scrape a sample from the golden circuits on Shirou's arm. However, the tweezers bent the moment they touched his skin due to the insane hardness.
"No." Riveria sighed, abandoning her scientific fantasies. "This is no longer in the realm of magecraft. This is a miracle, or some kind of construct that doesn't belong to the Lower World. Emiya, what flows in your right hand is no longer mere blood."
"It's the Light of the Stars." Ais Wallenstein interjected suddenly. She was sitting tightly across from Shirou, her golden eyes locked onto that glowing hand, her ahoge curled into an excited circle. "It's warm, like the sun."
"Ais... let's not give romantic reviews at a time like this. This kid's status sheet is what's truly terrifying now."
Finn smiled bitterly, placing a freshly transcribed parchment on the table.
It was the first status update since Shirou Emiya officially ascended to Lv. 4. As a freak who broke through tiers on the battlefield and reconstructed his reality in the Abyss, this sheet was destined to make all of Orario's common-sense-believers fall into deep depression.
Name: Shirou Emiya Level: Lv. 4 Title: Senji Muramasa
Abilities:
Strength: I (0) -> SSS (1310) Endurance: I (0) -> SSS (1552) (Qualitative change from Void Reconstruction) Dexterity: I (0) -> SSS (1115) Agility: I (0) -> SSS (1194) Magic: I (0) -> SSS (1601) (Breakthrough from Soul Core expansion)
Development Abilities: Mystery (G), Mage (G), Metallurgy (H), Spirit Healing (H), Void Resistance (I)
Magic:
Unlimited Blade Works (Fully Unlocked State) Structural Reinforcement (Full-Armored Physical State)
Skills:
Mind's Eye (Extreme): Predicts the causality of the next three seconds. Clairvoyance (Eagle): Visual range enhancement, captures high-dimensional coordinates. Indomitable Forger: Triggers mandatory reconstruction when near death. Star Bone: Due to the conceptual realization of the right hand, the defense and output of the right half of the body are increased without limit; can forcibly bear the partial pressure of God-made armaments.
The dining room fell into a silence even weirder than the 60th floor.
After a long time, Bete let out a shriek like a cat getting its tail stepped on.
"Magic 1600?! Are you f***ing kidding me?! Even Riveria's magic barely broke 1000 at Lv. 4! You're going for world records right out of the gate?!"
"And what's with 1500 Endurance?" Gareth looked down at his own chest muscles, which he took great pride in, and suddenly felt a bit desolate. "Are the young people today already moving toward 'Fortress' levels of physical density?"
Loki's expression fluctuated wildly, finally settling into a fit of wild, unrestrained laughter. "Wahahahaha! We're rich! This isn't just picking up a treasure; it's picking up a nuclear missile launcher! Freya, Ottar—all of you can step aside from now on!"
"Loki, stop laughing." Finn tapped the table, his expression solemn.
"This sheet absolutely cannot be made public. If the Guild or other Familias find out, Shirou will be taken away for human experimentation immediately. We must forge a 'normal' Lv. 4 sheet for him."
"Yes, fill it with values that are excellent but still within the realm of human understanding," Riveria agreed, nodding.
"Hey, did you forget the person in question is still eating?" Shirou held up his glowing right hand. "With a hand like this, how do you plan to fake a sheet? I walk out the door looking like a high-powered street lamp; anyone can tell I'm not right."
"..."
The issue of Shirou's hand glowing was eventually covered by Riveria with an extremely complex Elven illusion-wrapped cloak. Though it looked like ordinary bandages, at least it wouldn't attract every moth in the city when he walked at night.
Over the next few days, Shirou Emiya once again experienced the price of being a "Hero."
"Shirou-sama! The bathwater is ready, let me scrub your back!" Haruhime lowered her head, her golden fox tail wagging uneasily, her pure face written all over with the words 'returning a favor.' Ever since she witnessed Shirou's battle in the deep floors, her admiration for him had ascended to the level of religious faith.
"Haruhime... that really isn't necessary." Shirou broke into a cold sweat. Seeing Ais at the door holding a sword and radiating a dark aura, his survival instinct made him decline quickly. "I think my right hand is very strong now; I can solve it myself."
"I'll do it." Ais walked in, those three words filled with unquestionable power. "Riveria said you need to adapt to your new body. I am the best sparring partner."
"Miss Ais, what does scrubbing a back have to do with being a sparring partner?" Shirou asked weakly.
"It does." Ais nodded seriously, her ahoge spinning like a propeller. "To observe your mana flow at close range."
In the end, this daily routine of "care" that was actually observation ended with Shirou fleeing in panic. He would rather go back to the 60th floor and fight the Executioner again than face two serious-faced girls while bathing.
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The peaceful days didn't last long. On the evening of the third day after the expedition's return, an unexpected visitor broke the silence of Twilight Manor.
There was no grand entourage, nor any divine pressure. The visitor was just a tall man wearing a grey cloak. He stood there radiating a steady, rock-like aura.
Ottar. The captain of the Freya Familia and the strongest in Orario was currently standing quietly before the gates of Twilight Manor.
The Loki Familia guards were sweating with nerves; even though they knew the expedition was back, the physiological fear they felt when facing this man could not be erased. "Don't be nervous." Ottar's voice was deep like thunder. "I am not here to fight."
He pulled out a faintly scented letter from his robe and placed it on a stone pillar in front of the guards.
"Hand this to that person. Tell him the Goddess is waiting for him at the top of Babel to watch tonight's moonlight together."
The guard blinked. "That person... is it Shirou Emiya?"
Ottar didn't answer. He just took a deep look into the depths of Twilight Manor, as if he could see through the layers of walls to the youth who was currently hiding in the kitchen sneaking an extra snack.
Then, he turned and left. He came and went quickly, but he left behind a time bomb sufficient to cause a massive earthquake within the Loki Familia.
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When Shirou received the letter, his first reaction was to throw the chicken leg he hadn't finished into the brazier to destroy the evidence.
"An invitation from the Goddess? A solo dungeon?" Shirou looked at the ornate, almost morbid handwriting on the stationery, feeling his right hand throb again. "I know this plot; usually, when you take this kind of quest, it triggers a forced affection branch or a 'start of war' scenario."
"Shirou, if you don't want to go, we can refuse." Finn appeared behind him at some point, his face grim.
"Freya isn't hiding it anymore. She saw the moment you reconstructed your body through the Divine Mirror in the deep floors. To her, you aren't a rough stone anymore, but a fully formed Holy Grail."
"What happens if I refuse?" Shirou asked.
"I don't know." Finn smiled bitterly. "Most likely, she'll just bring her whole Familia and attack. She's currently in a state near the edge of a 'sanity collapse'."
Shirou looked out the window at the spire piercing the clouds. He remembered the voice of that man in the deep floors—the will that called itself the Executioner, calling him a foreign object. In the eyes of that Goddess, he might truly be just a toy she could color at will.
"But I'm not a toy," Shirou said softly, his right hand clenching. Golden brilliance flowed under the bandages—it was the struggle belonging to a human that he had traded his life for. "I'll go." Shirou stood up, his eyes showing an unprecedented resolve. "If I don't clear things up face-to-face, this endless entanglement will only hurt everyone. Since she's the Goddess of Beauty, then let me see if her heart can actually be cut by a sword."
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Night, Top Floor of Babel, Field of War.
This was the place closest to the moon. Silver moonlight poured into the room through giant floor-to-ceiling windows, reflecting the palace like an ice castle from a fairy tale.
Freya wore a silk nightgown that was almost transparent. She was barefoot, holding a glass of wine as she stood by the window. Her silver hair danced in the breeze, and those eyes that seemed to contain the entire starry sky bloomed with a radiance enough to daze even the Gods the moment she saw the youth push the door open.
"You've come." Freya didn't turn around. Her voice carried a morbid tenderness, like a lover's whisper or a fatal curse.
"Shirou Emiya. No... my Hero."
"That title makes me want to vomit." Shirou stood at the palace entrance, not approaching. Although there were no clashing blades here, the pressure sensed by his [Mind's Eye] was far heavier than facing ten Ottars. It was an omnipresent love that sought to devour his soul.
"Goddess-sama, calling me here so late, you surely aren't planning to buy me a late-night snack?" Shirou asked coldly.
"If you're willing, I can make myself your snack." Freya turned around, her lips curling into a seductive arc. She walked slowly toward Shirou. Every step had a strange rhythm. Under the moonlight, her beauty surpassed physical limits. It was a finale sufficient to make any hero willingly offer up their life.
Shirou could feel his magic circuits screaming alerts. Not because of hostility, but because of this pure, blind-spot-free mental attack. His right hand uncontrollably emitted a faint golden light, trying to counteract the erosion.
"You've changed." Freya stopped in front of Shirou, extending a cold finger to gently slide across his bandaged right hand.
"You've become harder. No longer a projection that might drop at any moment. Now, you can finally bear my love, right?"
"The love of a God is too heavy." Shirou looked directly into her eyes without flinching. "I don't belong to Loki, and I don't belong to you. I belong only to myself, and the people I want to protect."
"Protect?" Freya chuckled, a laugh filled with contempt for mortal emotions.
"In this endless time, I've seen countless people who wanted to protect something. Some turned into ashes, others became madmen. Shirou, what do you think this power of yours can protect? The Dungeon has already noticed you. The wills from the abyss will tear you apart bit by bit."
"That's why I have to get stronger." Shirou stepped back, his right hand pressing on the hilt of Kanshou (Mimic version). "I didn't come here to hear your prophecies. I came to tell you to stop making moves on the Loki Familia. If you dare touch them..."
"Do you want to kill me?" Freya leaned in close to his ear, her breath like orchids. "If so, please, do it right here. Dying by your sword would be an extreme pleasure for the Goddess of Beauty."
'Lunitic.' Shirou cursed internally.
This Goddess was completely broken. She didn't care about war, nor did she care about destruction. She only cared about the light that could make her soul tremble.
"I can promise you." Freya suddenly turned back toward the window. "I can refrain from attacking the Loki Familia. But I have one condition."
"What condition?"
"Three months from now." Freya pointed at the moon.
"Orario will hold a grand festival. At that time, I will challenge the entire city. If you can still maintain your current 'color' through that grand play... I will let go completely. I might even... become your shield."
But if you lose... you must leave Twilight Manor, come to the top of this tower, and become my only collection."
It was a grand gamble. A game of cat and mouse played by a God.
"I accept." Shirou didn't hesitate. He knew he didn't have the right to refuse right now. Three months was the maximum breathing room he could fight for.
"Smart." Freya looked back one last time at Shirou. "Now get lost, my Hero. Before I can't stop myself from keeping you here forever."
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When Shirou walked out of Babel, he was drenched as if he had just been pulled from the water. That exhaustion from deep within his soul surpassed even the battle against the Executioner.
"Emiya!" Ais's voice rang out in the darkness. She was leaning against a stone pillar at the entrance of Babel, cradling her sword, her eyes full of unease.
"Are you okay?" She rushed up, carefully checking Shirou's clothes.
"I'm fine." Shirou patted her head, feeling the girl's real warmth. "I just talked to the boss about severance pay. The process was a bit twisted, but I secured a three-month buffer."
"Three months?" Ais tilted her head, clearly not understanding the political maneuvering involved.
"Three months later, we're going to have a big one." Shirou looked at the distant night sky. "Before then, I must become stronger. Not just Lv. 4. I'm going to forge a blade that can truly sever the obsessions of Gods... the Sword of the End."
In another corner of the city, a pair of red compound eyes watched the returning hero from the shadows of the sewers.
"Hehe... three months?" The cloaked man let out a raspy laugh. "Since the Goddess has given time, it's perfect for us to... prepare that grand gift..."
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