"So who are these people? Amamiya, do you know them?"
"Who knows? I don't recognize them."
As Shirou answered Ayako Mitsuzuri, he kept glancing around as if searching for something.
What's going on...
What is this feeling, half irritation, half excitement? Is someone nearby?
"What should we do now, Senpai?" Sakura Matou asked nervously.
The men in military uniforms Shirou had taken down earlier were gradually regaining consciousness, lying on the ground and groaning in pain.
Shirou had held back and hadn't intended to kill them, but waking up this quickly was still impressive.
They were probably closer to soldiers or mercenaries than Magi, and their combat training was exceptionally solid.
"Let's go."
Shirou still hadn't figured out why something inside him felt so restless, but he decided they shouldn't stay here any longer.
"We're just leaving them?"
"We are."
"But they were targeting you, Senpai..."
Just as Shirou was about to pull Sakura away, another presence entered the deserted street that had already been cleared out.
All at once, the attackers on the ground stopped groaning and looked up in unison, fear written across their faces.
"What a pack of useless fools. You can't even capture one little brat?"
Shirou and the others looked over as well and saw a young man with long blond hair and tanned skin.
An arrogant, cold smile spread across his face. His clothes were refined, and glittering jewels adorned his neck, wrists, and fingers.
Shirou couldn't help thinking of an old friend he had personally sent back to the Throne of Heroes.
The dark-skinned youth, who looked as though he came from a desert region, walked toward them while his subordinates dropped to their knees one after another.
"My deepest apologies. There were some unexpected complications."
He ignored the apology, his eyes fixed intently on Shirou Amamiya.
"Atrum Galliasta."
The young man spoke with a displeased look.
According to the original plan, he shouldn't have needed to come in person to claim this "spoil of war."
"That is my name. Shirou Amamiya, you are indeed the formidable fighter the rumors described."
"Oh? What's going on here? Amamiya, are you actually some kind of celebrity? Wait... Is this guy a hardcore martial arts fanatic? Did he come all this way just to spar with you?"
Ayako Mitsuzuri still hadn't quite grasped the situation and stared at the dark-skinned young man in astonishment.
"I'm not getting a martial artist vibe from him... Hey, what's your style? Kalaripayattu? Yoga? The kind where your arms and legs stretch really far?"
"Mitsuzuri-senpai, I don't think he's Indian..." Sakura Matou tugged at her sleeve.
"Ayako."
Shirou spoke in a voice calmer than any he had used today. "Take Sakura and leave first."
"..."
Ayako Mitsuzuri looked at Shirou in surprise and saw an authority in his face that allowed no argument.
She understood that staying here would only make her a burden, so she nodded in tacit agreement.
"Got it... Amamiya, be careful."
"Senpai!?"
Ayako Mitsuzuri grabbed Sakura Matou and was about to leave, but.
"Wait. Who gave you permission to leave on your own?"
Atrum's voice seemed to carry some kind of binding force, and Ayako Mitsuzuri's legs froze in place.
Shirou frowned. "..."
"Oh my, please don't release such fierce killing intent. I have no intention of fighting you, Shirou Amamiya."
Shirou glanced at his subordinates. "Is that supposed to be your way of showing goodwill?"
"How rude of them. It seems my subordinates don't understand the etiquette of East Asian culture. Allow me to apologize on their behalf."
As he said this, Atrum slowly raised his right hand.
Then a barrage of lightning burst from his palm and pierced through the subordinates kneeling beside him. Every one of them collapsed, smoke rising from their bodies.
"That... wasn't a movie special effect, was it?" Ayako Mitsuzuri's eyes widened.
"Just a small punishment. Don't worry... I didn't kill them."
Atrum smiled as he spoke. "I couldn't allow the noble Shirou Amamiya to become an indirect murderer, after all."
Shirou remained unmoved, completely unfazed by his intimidation.
"What do you want? Stop beating around the bush," Shirou said coldly.
"I had hoped to build a friendship with you, but it seems I'm not very welcome."
Atrum sighed with a sorrowful expression. To Shirou, he looked like a terrible stage actor.
"Shirou Amamiya, I want your Magic Crest. Name your price. No matter how astronomical, Galliasta will satisfy it."
So that was it. Shirou finally understood what this man was after.
Although Shirou Amamiya was a third-rate Magus, his magical trait alone was extremely unusual.
His "Reinforcement Magecraft" surpassed any restorative spell, allowing him to reinforce internal damage within matter and thereby complete the repair.
As for Shirou's "Projection Magecraft"... according to Morgan, even she couldn't reproduce it.
Alice had warned him before that his power might draw the attention of people with ulterior motives, but Shirou hadn't taken it too seriously at the time.
He hadn't expected one to actually show up.
"What do you say?"
Seeing that Shirou had remained silent for so long, Atrum pressed him.
"I can't do it."
Shirou answered without hesitation.
There was no way he could accept such a deal.
"I see. So you're unwilling..."
Atrum murmured, "You value the inheritance of Magecraft more than I expected. That is a good thing..."
"Hold on."
Shirou interrupted him and corrected him. "It's not that I'm 'unwilling.' It's that I 'can't.'"
"?"
Atrum looked confused, so Shirou explained further.
"A Magic Crest is the inheritance parents leave to their children, right...? I don't have anything like that, so naturally I can't sell it to you."
"What are you talking about?"
"I said I don't have a Magic Crest."
Shirou said it as if it were perfectly obvious. "I live with my foster mother now, but I'm an orphan. I don't even know who my biological parents are, so of course I couldn't have received a Crest transplant…"
"Did you come all the way to Japan without doing any proper research?"
"..."
Atrum's expression turned extremely ugly, caught between embarrassment and disbelief.
In the world of Magecraft, possessing a Magic Crest was not merely proof that one was heir to a Magus family. It also represented an absolute gap in power.
Although the world of Magus placed great importance on lineage, this "lineage" was different from the "bloodline" of racehorses. It referred more to the knowledge and research accumulated by a family over hundreds or even thousands of years.
Through generations of accumulation, research, and training, Magus allowed their descendants to inherit greater power, ultimately reaching the Swirl of the Root, where all truth is recorded. That was the operating logic of Western Magecraft.
Atrum couldn't imagine how a brat like Shirou Amamiya, who didn't even have a Magic Crest, had defeated ancient noble houses such as Archibald and Einzbern, along with their Servants, in that ritual that had become legend.
Well... I trained for three thousand years in a world stronger than Proper Human History, Shirou thought.
"...Hah."
Atrum took a deep breath and finally regained his composure.
He believed the red-haired boy's words.
Shirou Amamiya's value might be even greater than he had imagined.
"I understand. In that case…"
"Shirou Amamiya, would you be willing to leave this country with me? To put it plainly, would you be willing to become my research subject?"
"No way. I have school tomorrow."
Shirou rejected him instantly.
"..."
His second rejection of the day.
Atrum had never been rejected twice by the same person in his entire life.
He immediately shifted into another mode and spread his arms wide.
"Then this is war."
Atrum declared it with theatrical grandeur.
"War, war, war... Ah, it sounds truly barbaric! To choose war against me, against Galliasta, what utter folly."
He shook his head with deep regret.
And yet the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth could not be hidden.
That smile made one thing perfectly clear. No matter what he said, he treated this barbaric slaughter as a form of entertainment.
The Galliasta family traced its lineage back to ancient Middle Eastern roots.
Because they had only joined the Clock Tower in recent generations, and because half of their Magecraft fell under the category of sorcery, they were treated with less respect than their actual strength deserved. Even so, they were extremely troublesome.
It was said that they had used the unique Magecraft passed down through their family to conquer neighboring organizations and even seize oil extraction rights. In terms of influence and wealth in the surface world, they ranked among the very top within the Clock Tower.
And Atrum was the current head of the Galliasta family.
His personality was entirely the result of the education he had received since childhood.
If you wanted something, take it. If you held a blade, swing it down.
That was how Atrum had always been taught.
In order to choose the next family head, his father had subjected Atrum and his brothers to various trials, and the young man handled everything in the most efficient way possible.
Then, unlike his father, who inherited a title in the Association yet never stepped into the world of Magecraft, Atrum embraced Magecraft with great enthusiasm.
He greatly expanded his influence in the Magecraft world, mainly through financial power.
That nouveau riche quality earned Atrum the derisive nickname "Oil Baron" among the Magi of London.
Even so, his ability as a Magus was beyond question.
Shirou began to wonder whether this man had something wrong with his head.
Even after learning about Shirou's experiences in the Fourth Holy Grail War, he still had the nerve to brazenly declare "war"...
Good grief. It seemed his past self had been far too gentle. His lenient attitude toward enemies must have given people the mistaken impression that he was easy to bully...
Sorry about that.
Under normal circumstances, Shirou might have let it slide. But right now, he had no intention of going easy on any dangerous element that came near him.
Irisviel is carrying my child (Illya). I can't let even the slightest risk reach them...
Shirou walked toward Atrum, his clenched right hand wrapped in green radiance.
"...!?"
The brown-skinned young man probably hadn't expected Shirou to approach him first.
At last realizing the danger he was in, panic flashed across his face.
"W-wait, I haven't finished talking yet!"
"Huh? Aren't we already in a 'state of war'? Or was that supposed to be a joke?"
"Of course not!"
In the end, though Atrum was afraid, his pride still won out.
Shirou's opinion of him improved slightly. Anyone who could keep posturing to this extent was, in a sense, impressive.
Of course, that still won't save you from this punch.
Just as he was about to knock Atrum down with one blow, a powerful magical reaction came from the distance.
That energy rapidly drew closer.
Soon, the air around Shirou and the others began to tremble, as if warning Shirou that something massive was coming.
"...Run!!"
The boy turned and shouted at Ayako Mitsuzuri. That shout also broke the restraints Atrum had placed on the two girls, and Ayako started running almost without hesitation.
"I am the bone of my sword."
The boy murmured.
Facing the hammer of light descending from the sky, Shirou raised his right arm without the slightest fear.
"Round Albion!!"
With only a single-process chant, the dazzling sight he created made Atrum's eyes widen.
At first, it was a massive ring of light inscribed with intricate runes.
Then the ring began to change.
The shape extending outward from its center easily called to mind a blooming flower, but on closer inspection, the things spreading apart were not petals at all.
Rather than petals, they were more like the scales of a great dragon.
Seven dragon scales, blue as the vault of heaven, formed a domed shield and easily blocked the sudden Magic Cannon.
It was a magical projectile powerful enough to pierce any city wall, yet it could not break through Shirou's spell. It only burned against the surface.
Of course it couldn't.
Because the protective shield Shirou had projected was made from the hardest substance ever born on this planet.
The outer skin of Albion, the "Grand Dragon."
This was one of the few non-sword Noble Phantasms Shirou could project, and also the strongest defensive spell he possessed.
A dragon born alongside the stars, one that had lived for 4.6 billion years, carried Mystery and weight equal to that number.
No attack capable of piercing Albion existed.
How could the spark of a mere tiny primate compare to the radiance born from the stars?
The heat dispersed.
And the result was clear.
The Magic Cannon failed to pierce even a single dragon scale and vanished into the sky as nothing more than an afterimage.
"Phew..."
Shirou let out a long breath.
When he came back to himself, he found that Atrum had already fallen to the ground, propping himself up with both hands as he stared at Shirou in terror.
Damn it! I protected him too without thinking.
Wait, was that attack just now meant to kill him as well?
It definitely was, wasn't it?
"Now then, next..."
Shirou turned to the side and looked at the culprit who had launched the attack from the shadows.
"Oh my, what an eye-opener... You really are strong."
Standing there was a dignified beauty whose long hair nearly reached her feet.
The pinnacle of the modern Magecraft world, Miss Blue of the Three Primary Colors, the newest Magician.
Aoko Aozaki smiled at the boy.
"Sorry. Your face is exactly my type, but I've already taken the money, so I'll have to take you out here."
Shirou: "......"
He had already braced himself the moment he felt that familiar Mana reaction, but still.
So it really is you.
What the hell are you doing? Shirou muttered under his breath.
Seeing his lover suddenly appear on the opposite side while trying her best to pretend she didn't know him made it hard to keep a straight face.
"Aoko from the future"...
No, that didn't seem right. You're clearly "the Aoko of the present," aren't you?
Anyway, it was probably the usual thing.
This woman had heard through some black market channel that someone was offering a high bounty for information on Shirou Amamiya.
Out of curiosity, and probably because she wanted to claim credit with Shirou, she had accepted the commission herself. After all, outsiders didn't know about their relationship.
No, under normal circumstances, shouldn't she have just captured the employer and interrogated them directly?
Was there really any need to take such a roundabout route?
Wait... Shirou thought. Could it be that Atrum over there isn't the real enemy targeting me?
Is there actually someone else behind the scenes?
Since this was Aoko's move, there had to be some deeper meaning behind it... It couldn't just be because she wanted the Oil Baron's money, right?
Shirou decided to play along with Aoko. Maybe he could even get a share.
"You're going to take me out, huh..."
The boy tilted his head, wearing the expression of someone who had just heard an unfunny joke.
"Do you really think you can win?"
"Of course I can win!"
Aoko Aozaki cracked her knuckles with a series of clicks and declared it with complete confidence.
Although she had never won even once in bed.
***
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