Fate: Emiya the Host

"Cough! Cough!", With the external force brought about by the collapse of Noble Phantasm, Shirou finally pulled open a fair distance. Slightly gasping.

He had just managed to steady his footing when pain signals shot up from both hands, trembling uncontrollably.

Just that one exchange was enough to kill any thought of fighting Heracles in close combat.

The strongest in melee combat, wasn't just empty talk.

Even with armor summoned, he couldn't take it. This was the first time he'd run into something like this.

If they were going to fight, it could only wait until he himself became a Servant.

"Mash, get out of the way!", Ripping off his coat that had turned into cloth, Shirou shouted loudly.

"This body is made of swords!"

Every magic circuit blazed to life.

In the sky appeared high-quality Noble Phantasms.

The holy sword Durandal, the cursed blade Dáinsleif, the Dawn of Ruin, the Slayer of the Undying.

"No!", After the impact, Mash rushed in front of Shirou, "Emiya-senpai, I'll protect you!"

"Mash!", Shirou hadn't expected such determination. He was moved.

If Mash really could withstand Heracles's brutal charge, then he was ready to activate Unlimited Blade Works.

While chanting the aria, he wouldn't be able to move.

And right now Heracles had no need to protect Illya, which meant he could move without restraint.

In other words, with no one to guard him, Heracles could smash into Shirou's face in 0.1 seconds flat.

"ROAR!", With a roar like a Super Saiyan transforming, Uncle B resurrected again.

He tore out from the blazing firelight. His speed was so fast the smoke twisted into a vortex.

"AHHHHHH!", The violent wind blew Mash's hair wildly. Facing the charge of the demigod, the girl stood firm before Shirou, shouting her defiance.

That burning will, even a hero of myth would surely...

"Ahhhhhh!", The pink eggplant was sent flying.

"Mash got blown away?", Fujimaru Ritsuka clutched her head in horror.

Olga Marie nearly collapsed.

"What the hell was I expecting?", The director of Chaldea felt powerless before this group of problem children.

Shirou's eyelid twitched. He didn't even have time to wonder how Mash was doing, how high or far she had flown.

He gave up on chanting the aria, pulled out the cursed blade, and slashed down.

As the sword's edge pierced Heracles's skin, curses spread.

Paralyzing the demigod.

'Seven more to go.'

Shirou panted heavily.

Projecting high-grade Noble Phantasms one after another, his body couldn't withstand it at all.

The pseudo-nerves made from his magic circuits howled in agony.

Not giving Heracles the chance to move, the holy sword Durandal lunged forth.

Pierced his heart.

'Six left.'

"ROAR! ROAR! ROAR!"

Wild magical energy scrambled the air.

The deafening noise battered eardrums.

In death, transcending myth, Heracles revived once again.

Next, the Dawn of Ruin, 'Five left!'

The Slayer of the Undying.

'Four left.'

That was the limit. Right now these were all the high-quality Noble Phantasms Shirou could bring forth.

"ROAR!", The wounds rewound, and the demigod returned to the battlefield.

"Hahh—", Shirou exhaled deeply.

Now was the hardest moment.

"The battlefield needs to change."

He glanced around.

The weapon he was about to use was something no schoolyard could endure.

BOOM!

Scarlet mana surged, the fully revived demigod bellowing at Shirou once more.

Suddenly the sky grew dark, blocked by countless dense shadows.

The frenzied Heracles paused, lifting his gaze upward.

Countless thousands of steel blades hung in the air.

Shirou raised his hand, panting hard, "Since the opponent is the legendary demigod, a little extra shouldn't be too much, right?"

"ROAR!"

Facing this situation, what could Uncle B say? With a roar, he launched into a headlong charge.

At the same time, a torrent of steel fell, something that would give any Servant a headache, something they'd have no choice but to defend against, fell on the earth.

The earth screamed, hammered by a deadly rain of blades.

Uncle B's rugged form was like lightning on two legs, weaving swiftly between them.

The nameless axe-sword swung endlessly.

In that moment, the mightiest hero of Greek myth brought his martial skill to its peak through sheer instinct.

Taking that chance, Shirou reinforced his legs, leapt off the schoolyard, and bolted toward the dense residential district.

"Imaginary Collapse!"

Thousands of low-grade Noble Phantasms detonated, dense smoke rising over the school.

Mana surged out like water from a burst faucet, running wildly through his twenty-seven circuits.

Like they'd burst his nerves apart.

'Still not enough!'

Even that only delayed Uncle B's stride for an instant.

Behind him, the warrior, in a stance of invincibility, chased at his heels.

———

"Mash, are you okay?", When the explosions faded, Fujimaru Ritsuka immediately rushed over to help Mash up.

"Thank you, Senpai. I'm fine," Mash steadied herself with her shield.

She really hadn't taken much damage, the shield had blocked everything.

Though, it wasn't exactly pleasant either.

"...."

Finger pressed to her crest, with fluent English carrying the aria, Olga Marie crushed the stones she'd prepared earlier.

Before their eyes, a screen of light constructed from mana appeared.

"What's this?", Fujimaru Ritsuka asked.

The scene inside showed Shirou and Heracles's chase.

Shirou, pulling and dragging, used Noble Phantasms and buildings to restrict Heracles's movements.

It looked like an advantage, yet it hadn't inflicted enough damage to erase even one of his lives.

"No, Emiya-senpai's in danger. I need to get over there quickly."

Mash lifted her shield.

"This is…", Fujimaru Ritsuka didn't know what to say.

Sending Mash, dangerous.

Leaving Senpai alone to face the demigod, far more dangerous.

In that instant, she felt her own powerlessness deeply.

'I can't do anything!'

"Don't rush," Olga Marie, sharp-eyed, studied the situation, clenched her thumb and said, "He left here because he didn't want to drag us in. Which means this guy still has means he hasn't used."

"Even now Senpai still has…"

As the three spoke, on the screen Shirou stood at the peak of a building.

Looking down at Heracles, he raised his right hand high.

Green circuits lit up across his arm.

"Since this is myth, then only by using weapons worthy of myth does this battle deserve to exist."

"Projection, start!"

Ideals entered, imagination pushed to the extreme.

Crack!

Facing Uncle B's upward gaze, the sound of his circuits opening slowed.

At the instant the weapon took form, the towering warrior leapt upward, charging straight at Shirou.

"Come!"

Shirou roared, "Even if it's only a shell, if you can take this, then try!"

"Pseudo-Green Field Cutting Through the Thousand Mountains!"

BOOM!

The words fell.

In the horrified eyes of the three onlookers, the clouds split at dawn. As though myth descended into reality.

Before this absolute concept, heaven and earth, all things, were cut apart.

Not by a blade slashing, not by mass pushing through.

But by dividing the very earth's horizon.

The Mountain-Splitting Sword, a divine weapon in truth.

Even if it was just an outer shell, a fake, an imitation in name, when it fell, it signaled the opening of the Mythic Battle.

Even before the sword touched, the ground was split apart by the overflowing sword-light.

Heracles stood within, his towering frame unshaken.

He roared to the sky with a voice like a tidal wave. Hair whipped in the storm.

The hero who once completed the Twelve Labors, now facing a weapon that split the sky and cleaved the earth. Still unyielding, lifted his arms high in fearless challenge.

Rumble!

As if creation itself was reborn, the world-splitting weapon struck, Heracles trying to catch its edge with both hands.

Earth, houses, trees, fire, everything, piece by piece, erased within the power of the Mountain-Splitter.

Even the invincible Heracles was swallowed into that absolute concept.

But… with so many great deeds behind him. Before twelve deaths were spent, the hero could not fall.

Beneath the ultimate sword-light, his waist never bent.

Still proudly, stubbornly, his ruined body stood tall, pressing his hands together.

"ROOOAR!"

Infinite might exploded.

In the second great detonation, the revived demigod surpassed the trials, lifting the Mountain-Splitting Sword as vast as a mountain.

Thunder boomed like an ocean, as if celebrating the birth of myth.

Shirou stood unmoved, golden-brown eyes flashing with merciless cold light.

He brought down the second trial.

The clouds churned, like purification before dawn's arrival.

As scarlet sword-light appeared at heaven's edge, the boy spoke calmly, "The Horizon of Dawn that Purifies the Seas (Sul-sagana)!"

All things evaporated, melted away.

Not destruction, but purging.

If dawn were given direction, then at the end of sky and sea, under the herald of sunrise, the extreme born from chaos appeared. The furnace that melts all.

The Sea-Splitting Sword.

Endless flame burst forth in one instant of purification. Ready to dissolve good and evil, right and wrong, sky and sea alike. Including all hostility, all opposition.

When the weapon fell, even Fuyuki's never-ending fires were extinguished for a moment.

Uncle B too, on the cusp of dawn, vanished without trace.

"—Is… is it over?", Fujimaru Ritsuka stammered, tongue-tied.

"No… idea," Olga Marie no longer knew how to put this moment into words.

When epic descended, the one who completed it stood before them.

Those who witnessed it knew, they weren't watching epic, but history extending from the legend. That is myth.

Who could have imagined, in this world shrouded in fire and despair, such a battle would take place.

Yet, the period had not been written.

As Shirou fell into what was no longer ground but a warped abyss of flame and air, Heracles once again fully appeared, his towering body embodying his undying legend.

Shirou braced his knees with both hands, gasping heavily, and spoke, "What a pain… just how many lives do you have left? Two, or the last one?"

"AHHHHHH!"

His nameless axe-sword had been knocked away who knows where, but the hero roared loudly.

Instead of charging, he raised his fists.

Shirou immediately understood.

"I see. The last life, you want a proper duel?"

"Fine by me."

A belt appeared around his waist. With each step forward, armor attached.

Dragon's body, eagle's arms, tiger's shoulders, mastiff's back, rhino's legs, at last, fully combined.

"Indeed, a fair and proper deathmatch is what this deserves."

Not the burning sprint before sunset, but a true duel where not one step can be yielded!

"Before that, Projection, begin!"

The miracle of the Twelve Labors manifested.

Not to unleash Nine Lives, but to place the power that completed those deeds upon himself.

At the moment projection was complete, his body was no longer his own, he temporarily bore the strength and martial skill of Greek myth's strongest hero.

"COME ON!"

As Shirou drove the nameless axe-sword into the ground, the sound marked the start of their deathmatch.

Speed crossing lightning, power bursting air apart.

Dozens of punches in a second.

No more dazzling dodges, no more clashing sparks of weapons, only fist against fist, body against body, an even match.

"AHHHHHH!", Heracles roared, mana surging in his fists.

He abandoned defense, pouring everything into offense.

Shirou gave no ground either.

Punch after punch after punch.

Before sunset, burning it all, even entrusting his will entirely to his body.

Every nerve, every cell, striking only for victory.

Scarlet mana and blue mana, like beasts locked in an arena.

No retreat, only burning, until nothing but ash remained.

A storm-like vortex rose around them.

Mana crashed like a flood against a dam.

Before the dam could break, the overflow had already swept the surroundings.

Sand and stone ground into dust within the currents.

And still, they did not yield, trading punches.

Until at last, flames roared up.

"ROAR!"

After countless strikes, will and flesh both reached their limit. The last explosion before the curtain fell.

Heracles wagered everything on this final punch.

Shirou stayed calm, as if blind to the incoming blow, continuing his steady motion.

The wind rushed in his ears, the instant when time stopped.

BOOM!

The air shook.

The projected nameless axe-sword vanished.

Shirou's fist stopped at Heracles's chest, his tone faint, "I win."

Whoosh!

His hand dropped limply.

Heracles lowered his head, gazing at the boy before him.

Before his soul returned to the Throne, reason returned. He nodded in recognition, and with heroic dignity said, "Illya, she is yours to protect."

The passing complete.

The deathmatch witnessed on the schoolyard had, in that moment, finally drawn its period.

When Heracles's body fully disappeared, Shirou collapsed weakly to the ground, grumbling, "So you still had two lives, but told me you only had one, who did you learn that from?"

If not for the armor, he really would've been beaten to death.

[A/N: Actually it was only one. At the end, Heracles held on purely by willpower. Shirou knew, he was just joking to ease his own tension.]

"Senpai!"

"Emiya-senpai!"

"Emiya!"

Voices rushed closer.

Shirou lifted his head, seeing Fujimaru Ritsuka waving.

'Why does this feel like the ending of a story?'

'But the boss is still alive.'

Thinking of Saber, and then Lev Lainur Flauros, one of the seventy-two Demon Gods, the true culprit behind the Singularity under Goetia's orders.

Shirou felt utterly exhausted.

'What is this?'

'I haven't even become a Heroic Spirit yet, so why does this feel like a one-way trip into endless overtime?'

'Speaking of which, where is Dog Bro?'

Not seeing Cu Chulainn, Shirou asked, "Where's Caster?"

Fujimaru Ritsuka's steps faltered.

"Not good!", She hugged herself, shouting in panic, "Cu Chulainn is dead!"

Shirou: "..."

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