Above the ruins of the Black Iron Palace in the royal capital—
The first rays of morning sunlight pierced through the smoke still hanging over the city, illuminating a land that had just survived a battle worthy of myth.
According to the usual structure of a heroic epic, this should have been the moment when the brave hero stood atop the city walls, basking in the cheers of the masses, then shared a passionate kiss with the princess before having his name forever recorded in the nation's history books.
But reality often had a stranger imagination than fiction.
"Run, run, run! Brother Emiya! That exit's blocked! This way! Hurry, switch this way!"
A man in a tattered clown costume was sprinting through the palace corridors with the kind of posture that might have qualified him for Olympic speed walking. His face was full of terror, as if a pack of starving slimes was chasing him rather than a crowd of enthusiastic citizens carrying flowers and a crown.
"Shut up, Argo! Stop flinging your snot at me!" Emiya Shirou came running behind him, arms full of bags and bundles—all loot scavenged from the Black King's kitchen the previous night. His right hand—the dragon-bone prosthetic that had just been reforged, now harder than orichalcum—was currently being used to shove away fanatical admirers trying to throw themselves at him. "Why did this turn out like this?! We saved the country, didn't we?! Why does this feel like we're running from debt collectors?!"
"That's exactly why it's a problem!" Fina the half-elf shouted back irritably while nimbly leaping across the heads of the crowd. "The Black King is dead, the royal family is wiped out, and now the ministers and citizens all agree that the hero who defeated the Demon King should obviously become the new king! Especially that clown leading the charge—his approval rating is terrifyingly high!"
"I don't want to be king!" Argo let out a shriek worthy of a slaughtered pig. "If I become king, I won't be able to sleep in! I won't be able to flirt with—no, I mean, praise—beautiful young ladies everywhere! And I'd have to review documents stacked up like mountains! That's hell! That's a torture method designed specifically to destroy my free soul!"
"That's your reason for running away?!" Oona the Amazon barked, carrying her giant axe like a human bulldozer as she forced a path open ahead of them. "Still, well done! I don't want to stay in this miserable city of rocks and iron either! Being some palace guard captain sounds way less fun than chopping down monsters in the forest!"
"Agreed." Crozzo the blacksmith followed behind, panting heavily with the anvil he valued more than his own life strapped to his back. "Their forge technology here is far too primitive. They don't even have proper temperature-control runes. Emiya's portable mana furnace is much better."
"Everyone..." Protected in the middle of the group, Princess Ariadne—Ais's ancestor—was clutching up her skirt as she ran, breathing hard, but her golden eyes sparkled with excitement like never before. "So this is... what adventure feels like? It's thrilling!"
"Your Highness, please don't mistake being wanted by the entire capital for an adventure," Shirou couldn't help but retort. "Also, why are you running away with us in the first place? Aren't you the princess of this kingdom? Staying behind to stabilize the country would be the proper thing to do, wouldn't it?"
"No." Ariadne shook her head decisively, wearing exactly the same expression future-Ais would probably wear when refusing to eat vegetables. "The food in the palace is terrible. I want to eat that... curry you made, Emiya. And I want to see the world outside too."
"..." Shirou felt his stomach start to ache. So this entire group really was made up of problem children. A captain who refused responsibility, a pack of battle maniacs who only knew how to fight and forge, and a runaway princess lured away by good food. Was this team's future really going to be okay?
"Stop talking! The sewer exit is up ahead! Once we dive through it, freedom is ours!" Argo pointed at a manhole cover in front of them, from which an ominous smell wafted upward, his eyes gleaming with hope.
"The sewers again?!" Elmira the dancer pinched her nose in disgust. She and Yuris the werewolf had somehow ended up following them too, their excuse being, "We were bored anyway, so we figured we might as well see what kind of ridiculous incident this bunch causes next." "Argo, do you have some kind of strange obsession with sewers?"
"It's strategy! It's wisdom! It's proof that a true hero doesn't sweat the small stuff!" Argo declared while lifting the manhole cover. "Everyone! Jump!"
Splash! Splash! Splash!
Amid a string of loud water impacts, the "Argo Hero Party" that had just saved the world vanished from the sight of the royal capital's people once again in the least dignified manner imaginable.
All that remained was a group of ministers holding crowns and scepters, staring blankly at the empty corridor.
"The new king... ran away again?"
"It's fine. According to the history books—there are no such history books, but never mind—heroes always have to go through trials before ascending the throne. We'll just wait here for him to return!"
"That makes sense!"
Ten kilometers outside the capital, in the dense forest—
"Cough... whew... we finally lost them." Emiya Shirou collapsed gracelessly onto the grass, his red coat now spattered with mud, sewer water, and unidentified green slime. He glanced around. Argo was wringing out his hat. Oona was washing her axe in the river. Crozzo was checking whether his anvil had started rusting. Ariadne was... curiously poking at a frog that had hopped by.
This group really did have excellent mental resilience.
"Brother Emiya! Look what I caught!" Argo suddenly sprang up from the riverbank, holding a desperately struggling fish with two heads. "A two-headed carp! This'll be incredibly nourishing! Lunch is secured!"
"That's a Twin-Headed Water Serpent. It's poisonous," Fina reminded him coldly. "If you'd like to send the whole party to heaven, feel free to take the first bite yourself."
"Huh?! Poisonous?!" Argo's hand jerked in fright, and the strange fish seized the opportunity to chomp down on his nose. "Waaaah! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Let go! You ungrateful fish! I'm the future great hero!"
Watching their captain wrestle with a fish, Shirou shook his head helplessly. "All right, enough of that." He stood up and brushed the dirt from himself. "Now that we've escaped, what do we do next? We can't exactly live in the forest as wild men forever."
"Obviously we keep adventuring!" Argo finally managed to throw the fish away and came running over with a swollen red nose, his eyes gleaming with the unmistakable light of troublemaking. "Brother Emiya, remember that map we found in the spirit temple?"
"The map?" Shirou thought back for a moment. Right—besides that broken sword, they had indeed found an ancient map drawn on sheepskin in those ruins.
"This one!" Argo produced the map from his soaking-wet coat like a stage magician. Fortunately, it was sheepskin and waterproof. He pointed dramatically to a symbol near the far eastern edge of the continent. "Look! There's a giant... pot here!"
"That's an alchemical cauldron. Or the symbol of some sort of vessel," Crozzo leaned in for a look. "In ancient alchemical notation, it represents 'creation' or 'origin.'"
"No! It's definitely a pot!" Argo insisted stubbornly. "And look at this symbol next to it. Doesn't it look like a chunk of meat? This is obviously the legendary God of Cuisine Ruins! It must be hiding the greatest ingredients and cooking utensils in the world!"
Everyone looked at him with the exact same expression one might use for the hopelessly delusional.
"Whether it's the God of Cuisine Ruins or not," Shirou said at last, his gaze fixed on the mark, "this is interesting."
If he compared that position against future maps, then that place seemed to be...
deeper within Dragon Valley?
Or perhaps...
the entrance to the legendary Land of Spirits?
Shirou's lips curved faintly upward. For some reason, the mark triggered a weak resonance within his magic circuits—especially in that right arm fused with dragon bone. There might be something there that could help him grow stronger.
Or maybe... something that could offer clues about how to get home.
"Let's go there," Shirou decided. "We're homeless drifters now anyway. It's not like it matters where we wander."
"Yeah! Unanimously approved!" Argo cheered. "Our destination—east! In search of the legendary... golden spatula!"
"We are searching for truth," Fina corrected.
"We are searching for stronger opponents," Oona added.
"We are searching for metal that can endure my hammer blows," said Crozzo.
"We are searching for... delicious food," Ariadne concluded with a smile.
Now that they had a destination, the next problem was transportation.
Walking all the way to the eastern continent on foot would probably wear their shoes through before they got halfway.
"We need a vehicle. A big one," Shirou said, looking around at the group. "Something that can carry all of us, plus supplies."
"A vehicle? Out here in the wilderness?" Yuris crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Unless you can turn those trees into a carriage."
"Turn them into one? No." Shirou walked over to a few fallen trees and knocked on the trunks. "But building one isn't a problem."
Trace.
Under everyone's stunned gaze, light began to gather in Shirou's hands. He might not have had future tools or modern equipment here, but he still had the structural blueprints inside Unlimited Blade Works, and more importantly, these hands.
Analysis. Cutting. Polishing. Assembly.
Wood chips flew in every direction.
"Hold on... seriously? He knows carpentry too?" Yuris gaped.
"Brother Emiya is all-purpose!" Argo puffed out his chest proudly. "Aside from giving birth, there's nothing he can't do!"
An hour later, a giant wooden caravan stood before them, its design strange and heavily modified in Shirou's usual style. It had six broad wheels for rough terrain, a body reinforced with vines and beast hide, and a spacious interior with even a small kitchen section partitioned off. At the front, Shirou had intentionally left two large harness points.
"The wagon's done," Oona said, circling it twice before slapping its sturdy side. "But... who's pulling it? Don't tell me you're planning to make me and the blacksmith do the labor."
"Of course not." Shirou smiled mysteriously. "For a physically demanding job like pulling a wagon, we should naturally leave it to real professionals."
He turned toward the shadows of the forest. "Come out. You've been following us all this time. Aren't you tired?"
Rustle. Rustle.
The bushes shook.
Then two huge, tusked beasts emerged from the undergrowth.
They were the Ancient Direwolves they had encountered earlier in the forest. But these two looked even larger than ordinary direwolves, and their eyes were strangely... clear.
"Those are... the cubs from that wolf pack we defeated, aren't they?" Fina recognized them. "When did they start following us?"
"Probably because of this meal." Shirou pointed toward the meat stew bubbling in the pot. "Animals have sharp instincts. They know who to follow if they want meat."
He walked over, scooped up two huge bone-in chunks of meat, and tossed them to the direwolves. "Want some?"
"Awooo!"
The direwolves snatched the meat in one bite, wagging their tails—despite being wolves, they looked suspiciously like giant dogs—and looked up at Shirou with openly flattering eyes.
"Good." Shirou patted their heads. "From today onward, you're our exclusive drivers. Room and board included, plus midnight snacks. Interested?"
"Awooo! Awooo!"(We're in! Boss is generous!)
"This... this works too?!" Yuris felt like his worldview had shattered. Those were direwolves. Magic beasts. And two chunks of meat were enough to buy their loyalty? Where was the dignity of the werewolf race in all this?!
"This," Argo said with a profound expression, "is the Emiya Style of Beast Taming. Remember: in this world, there is nothing a meal can't solve. And if there is, then two meals will solve it."
And so, beneath the red glow of the setting sun, the stylishly bizarre caravan called the Argo set off across the wilderness, pulled by two giant direwolves.
Inside the wagon—
"Cheers!"
Everyone raised wooden cups—filled with fruit juice—to celebrate the official founding of their party.
"To our new home!"
"To good food!"
"To future adventures!"
Seated at the front, Shirou held the reins—though in truth he was controlling the direwolves through a mana link—and listened to the laughter and shouting behind him, an unconscious smile tugging at his lips.
He couldn't go home.
The road ahead was uncertain.
But this feeling...
really wasn't bad.
"Emiya."
Ariadne poked her head out from the wagon and came to sit beside Shirou. The wind blew through her golden hair, making it shine in the sunset.
"What is it, Princess? Too crowded inside?" Shirou asked.
Ariadne shook her head and looked toward the road stretching off to the horizon. "I just think... it's incredible."
"Just yesterday, I was trapped in that dark cage, waiting to die."
"But now... I get to see such a beautiful sunset, and eat such delicious food."
She turned to look at him.
"Thank you, Emiya. You... changed all of this."
"The one who changed all of this wasn't me." Shirou glanced back toward Argo, who was inside the wagon wrestling Oona over a piece of meat. "It was that idiot. If not for his stubborn refusal to quit, if not for that fool's way of treating the impossible like something fun... we probably would have given up a long time ago."
"Argo..." Ariadne smiled. "He really is an interesting hero."
"But..." She suddenly leaned closer. The pleasant scent around her, like hyacinths in the wind, drifted into Shirou's nose. "To me, the real hero... is you."
"Uh..." Shirou's hand trembled on the reins.
Was that... a confession?
No, no, impossible. This had to be one of life's classic misunderstandings.
And more importantly, she was Ais's ancestor!
If anything happened here, wouldn't the family tree become a complete disaster?!
"Your Highness... jokes like that really shouldn't be made carelessly." Shirou stared straight ahead with utmost seriousness, refusing to look at her.
"Hehe. Are you embarrassed?" Ariadne poked Shirou's cheek mischievously. "How cute."
Just then—
ROAAAR!!!
A tremendous bellow rang out from ahead. The ground shook. A group of winged lizardmen had appeared, blocking the road.
Flying Lizardmen.
Estimated number: around fifty.
"More idiots looking for trouble!" Oona's excited shout came from inside the wagon. "All right, you lot! Grab your weapons! Time to work!"
"Yes, boss!" Argo was the first one to charge out, brandishing his lightning-charged wooden sword. "Argo Hero Party, sortie! For extra dinner rations!"
"Sigh..." Shirou let out a breath, but his hands were already moving.
Trace—On.
Several projected magic swords rose to hover above the wagon roof.
"Hold on tight, Princess." Shirou snapped the reins, and the direwolves answered with excited howls. "We're... charging through!"
BOOM!
The great wagon transformed into a roaring torrent of wood, steel, mana, and madness as it slammed straight into the monster horde.
"Hahahaha! Fly, lizards!"
"Take this—Thunder Crescent Slash!"
"Stop stealing my kills! That one was mine!"
Amid flashing magic, sword light, and utter chaos, this team—overflowing with laughter and disorder—continued onward toward the unknown east.
And far behind them—
within the shadows of the ruined capital—
a cloaked figure silently watched the wagon disappear into the distance.
In his hand was a thick book.
On its cover were written the words:
Dungeon Survival Guide: From Beginner to Godhood
"A very interesting variable," the mysterious figure murmured softly, his voice carrying a weariness older than time itself. "Emiya Shirou... a soul from another world."
"What kind of deviation... will your existence bring to this script that was already written?"
He closed the book.
"Go on. Go seek that 'truth.'"
"I will be waiting for you... at the end of the world."
The cloaked figure turned and vanished into the air, leaving behind only a single white feather drifting slowly down in the wind.
....
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