Time rewound to the exact moment Emiya Shirou stepped out of Babel Tower.
"Phew… I survived."
He slumped onto a bench in the plaza, feeling like his body had been tossed into an industrial washing machine for three straight hours—with the spin cycle on.
Left arm: hairline fracture.Ribs: three broken.Magic circuits: overheated.HP bar: basically flashing red at 1%.
That was the price of "punching above your level."
Sure, he'd managed to scrape a bit of profit off Ottar with Nine Lives, but the backlash felt like ramming an egg into a boulder—yes, the boulder chipped… but the egg was also very much shattered.
"Shirou-kun! Waaaaah…"
Hestia clung to him like a detachable accessory, bawling and smearing tears (and worse) all over his clothes.
"You scared me to death! I thought that evil woman was going to drag you off and make you her bandit bride!"
"Stop crying, Goddess," Shirou sighed, patting her head (and silently activating the universal Calm Down skill). "I'm back in one piece. Just… with a slightly reduced durability."
"Idiot."
Ais stood nearby, gripping Desperate so hard her knuckles whitened, her eyes full of guilt.
"If I were stronger… I could've charged up there and taken you back."
"That would've turned into a world war, Ais," Shirou gave a pained smile. "If you'd stormed Folkvangr, it wouldn't be 'sparring' anymore—it'd be two top familias ripping Orario in half."
"But, Emiya-sama…"
Lili wrapped fresh bandages around him, staring anxiously toward the tower.
"Did she really let you go that easily? It feels… too smooth. Like a horror movie where the protagonist thinks they escaped—only to realize they walked into a bigger trap."
"…You think so too?" Shirou exhaled, eyes lifting to Babel Tower.
That prickling sensation of being watched still hadn't vanished.
And Freya's final gaze… it wasn't just lust for the body.
It was the kind of obsession that wanted to swallow a soul whole.
It reminded him—very unpleasantly—of something called the Black Grail.
"She probably has a follow-up," he said quietly.
The moment the words left his mouth—
A massive surge of divine power exploded from the top of Babel Tower.
It wasn't an attack spell.
It was… a city-wide broadcast.
Orario's sky washed into a seductive pale violet. Countless silver motes fell like dream-snow, drifting into every street and alley.
"What is this—snow?""No… it's divine authority!"
Adventurers froze, faces paling as they looked up.
Then a voice—elegant, lazy, and utterly irresistible—rang directly inside everyone's mind.
[To all my children of Orario.][I am Freya.]
That single introduction plunged the entire city into dead silence.
Freya—Orario's uncrowned queen. Beauty incarnate. Power at the summit.
She almost never addressed the public.
And when she did… it was practically a revelation.
[Tonight, I found a beautiful gemstone.][His radiance surpasses every star I have ever seen. His soul shines brighter than the purest gold.]
Shirou's mouth twitched.
Is this… public execution?You're reading a love letter to the entire server—my shame gauge is overflowing!
[But that gemstone is currently locked inside a box that lacks all romance.][And that makes me… unhappy.]
Her voice rose, carrying a tremor of delighted menace.
[Therefore, I have decided.][I will invoke a War Game.][Opponent: Loki Familia.][Stake: Emiya Shirou (Senji Muramasa).]
The silence lasted a full ten seconds.
Then—
Orario erupted like boiling oil.
"A War Game?! Freya Familia vs Loki Familia?!""Is this the legendary 'Strongest Decisive Battle'?!""For a man?! Who the hell is Emiya Shirou?!""I know him! 'Senji Muramasa'! The newbie monster who can forge pseudo-divine weapons with his bare hands!""Holy—this is the definition of 'blue-face calamity'!"
In the center of the plaza—
Shirou turned to stone.
A thousand gazes—envy, jealousy, gossip, anticipation—hit him like searchlights.
If there were a hole in the ground, he would've dove in without hesitation and sealed himself for a thousand years with Avalon.
"This is the 'follow-up'…?" he groaned, face in his hands. "This isn't a follow-up—this is flipping the entire table!"
"Aaaaargh! That cheating cat! That shameless woman!"
Hestia rolled on the ground in rage, twin tails whipping like helicopter blades.
"Stealing people in public?! Using a War Game?! This is a declaration of war—war against pure love!"
"Please calm down, Lady Hestia…"
Lili—though equally stunned—was already calculating consequences like a professional.
"This is bad. War Games can force disbandment on the losing side. Freya Familia is betting everything."
"Emiya."
A hand gently caught Shirou's wrist.
Ais.
She didn't shout. She didn't panic.
She simply looked at him—and in her golden eyes burned a sharp, unfamiliar killing intent.
"I won't lose," she said softly, each word like a vow.
"No matter who it is… even Ottar."
"I won't… hand you over."
That steady gaze calmed something inside Shirou.
Yeah.
If he couldn't dodge it, then he'd fight.
His entire life was a chain of hell-difficulty quests anyway.
"I believe you, Ais."
Then he winced.
"But before that… we need to figure out how to face Loki."
"The drunk goddess is probably already detonating as we speak."
As Shirou predicted, Loki Familia's headquarters wasn't merely "angry."
It was volcanic.
"FRE—YAAAAA!!"
Loki stood atop the table with a bottle in hand. Her usual clownish grin had been replaced by bulging veins and a terrifying divine pressure.
Her red eyes blazed with the true aura of a trickster god.
"She dares crawl onto my head?! For a man?! What is she—some horny alley cat?!"
"Fine! If she wants to fight—then we fight! I've tolerated her for ages!"
"Calm down, Loki," Finn said, sitting with a grim expression. He still held onto reason—though his thumb looked one twitch away from cramping into a permanent injury.
"This is provocation. If we answer recklessly, we walk straight into her script."
"And what, you want me to be a turtle?" Loki snapped, jabbing a finger toward the window.
"The whole city heard it! If we refuse, where does Loki Familia's face go? How do we walk Orario after that?"
Riveria sighed, closing her grimoire with the weary grace of someone who'd seen too many disasters.
"And we know Freya. If she's declared this publicly, she's prepared to escalate no matter what."
"If we refuse a War Game under rules… what comes next is endless assassinations and street warfare."
"Exactly," Gareth growled, polishing his axe. "Better a straight battlefield than getting stabbed in the dark."
"But… it's Freya Familia," Tiona said, troubled. "We're strong, but they have Ottar… and those four Level 6 monsters…"
In terms of top-end power, Freya Familia had the edge.
A Level 7 was a mountain.
Loki Familia had no Level 7—yet.
"Ha! So what?" Bete kicked a chair over.
"I've wanted to punch that pig-headed gorilla forever. Perfect chance to prove who's the strongest in Orario!"
The argument was still raging when the door swung open.
Shirou entered, supported by Ais and the others.
Every eye snapped to him.
The "spark." The "prize." The fuse of the war.
"Oh, look who's back," Loki drawled with exaggerated sarcasm—then stepped forward and clapped Shirou hard on the shoulder.
"So? Go to the wolf's den and come back missing anything?"
"My meat's intact," Shirou said dryly. "But I almost didn't make it back."
"…Sorry, Loki. I dragged the familia into trouble."
"What nonsense," Loki snorted, flashing a grin that was oddly reassuring.
"You're mine. If I don't nod, nobody takes you—especially not that lovesick goddess."
Then Loki turned to face the room, voice sharpening.
"And besides…"
"This is an opportunity."
"An opportunity to prove who Orario's true boss really is."
"Finn," Loki said, dropping the grin entirely and letting divine authority seep into her tone.
"Give the order."
"We accept."
Finn nodded. He rose, his small frame radiating command.
"All units—listen up!"
"Loki Familia enters Level One Combat Readiness!"
"This is not an exercise."
"This is a War Game."
"Objective: crush Freya Familia!"
"For honor—"
"And to protect our… cook—uh, teammate."
The next three days threw Orario into a feverish frenzy.
A showdown between the two strongest familias.
A once-in-decades spectacle.
The betting odds went insane.
Adventurers poured in from everywhere just to watch.
As for the person at the center of it all—
Finn put Shirou under lockdown.
"Why am I the one being locked up?" Shirou complained, staring at Finn.
"To protect the 'prize,'" Finn replied with a perfectly straight face. "Also, you have work."
"What work?"
"Special training."
Finn pointed to a mountain of materials—rare metals, high-grade magic stones… basically everything valuable in the familia vault.
"The War Game format is confirmed."
"Siege."
"Freya Familia defends. Loki Familia attacks."
"Time limit: three days."
"If we breach their defenses and seize the flag—our token—we win."
Finn's eyes gleamed.
"You're the key variable, Emiya."
"Level 3 you can't stand in front of Ottar."
"But your magecraft… and your forging… are the biggest wildcard we have."
He paused, then smiled in a way that was far too pleased with himself.
"Over the next three days…"
"I want you to pack your Unlimited Blade Works…"
"…to the brim."
"…To the brim?" Shirou blinked.
"Correct."
Riveria stepped up and handed him a thick tome.
'Compendium of Ancient Magic Swords.'
Most were lost to history, but the construction diagrams were detailed.
"If this is a siege…" Finn said, grin widening into something almost villainous, "we don't need chivalry."
"I want enough disposable magic swords to blow half of Orario off the map."
"Then we give Freya…"
"A grand fireworks show."
Shirou stared at the materials.
Then at Finn and Riveria—both wearing expressions of pure anticipation.
For the first time, he realized something deeply important:
These two—if you cut them open—were absolutely black inside.
"…Got it."
He inhaled, summoned a projected hammer, and let the craftsman's fire ignite in his eyes.
If they wanted saturation bombardment…
This was, frankly, his specialty.
"If you want fireworks…"
"Then I'll give you…"
"A legendary nuclear festival."
Three days vanished in a blink.
Orario's eastern wilderness—an open plain designated by the Guild as the battlefield.
In the center stood a massive fortress—temporarily erected by Freya Familia (rapidly shaped by magic).
Opposite it, Loki Familia's forces lined up in formation.
Finn stood at the front, spear aimed forward.
"Loki Familia—advance!"
The charge erupted.
And at the rear high ground—
Shirou stood alone.
The earth around him was packed with swords—countless blades of different shapes and sizes, like a forest of steel.
"Trace…"
Golden ripples shimmered behind him.
It wasn't the King of Heroes.
But at this moment, Shirou radiated an even more terrifying aura:
reckless, shameless, catastrophic expenditure.
"First volley—prepare."
"Lady Freya," he murmured, eyes narrowing, "this is my… return gift."
"Fire."
Thousands of magic swords rose like a storm, turning into a meteor shower streaking across the sky—crashing toward Freya Familia's fortress.
That moment—
All of Orario witnessed a rain of blades.
A swordstorm called—
Infinity.
The War Game…
officially began.
....
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