If strength correlated to survival, then it was no wonder the Partas Clan had believed so strongly in it. Barbaric as it sounded, it didn't mean that it went without results. If each successive generation was built upon the blood of the previous, then the newer the generation, the more elite they were. It was a question of quality over quantity, but by limiting the size of the clan, it meant that when disaster struck, few if any survived besides Esdeath.
In this case, if Esdeath was the last of her people, her strength made sense. She alone from the Partas clan survived the pressure of selection and became an undefeatable monster in the eyes of her enemies.
She was the best of the best, and the undisputed strongest in Partas clan history.
Shirou would not hold it against anyone to balk at the sight of Esdeath's approach. The frosty air that clung around her, and the almost neutral pragmatism of her eyes deducing how best to kill you could unnerve anyone. But in this case, Shirou could only see anticipation.
He had no idea what she saw in him, whether he met her ideal criteria and passed each with flying colors, or she was just reacting to someone she could acknowledge as 'strong,' it was hard to say.
What mattered was the backward tradition of a dead clan she was all too eager to practice that no one else had likely ever dared instigate...
Within the icy mist exuding from her skin, there was a fire churning from within her, burning to prove her conviction- and it wasn't diarrhea.
...
As much as the inner Taiga within him tried to lighten his mood, it honestly wasn't working. He clicked his tongue and focused on what mattered. Glancing to the distance where plums of smoke and dust rose into the air from a rain of swords, he turned to address Esdeath.
"Your army is defeated," he told her, as if somehow the news would dissuade her.
There was no dissuading her.
Rather, the fact that he'd diverted part of his attention to focus on her army seemed to irk her more than their loss. She was pouting, her fangs bared, and eyes narrowed before she tossed her military cap to the wayside, letting her long hair fall freely down her back.
Was this a case of love being blind? Or the result of a psychotic break born from a backward tribe?
"Then I stand alone," Esdeath grinned, answering neither of Shirou's inner conjectures as her expression was a mix of both.
Stubborn woman.
He grimaced, inwardly assessing himself and the energy he had access to that was rapidly draining. More than anything, the consumption of maintaining the current world would not last, let alone his use of Noble Phantasms eating at his reserves.
How long he had, he knew all too well, leaving no room for hesitation. If Esdeath wasn't contained right here and now, their clash would extend to the boundaries of the real world, making all collateral damage permanent.
Alright, fine.
There was no longer any choice. He gritted his teeth.
Have it your way.
Just as a misty frost covered Esdeath in an almost sub-zero aura, magic energy erupted around him in a billowing storm. His eyes shone blue, his hair spiking up as teal arcs of magic energy singed the ground beneath him, spurring the appearance of interface patterns over his skin.
Where others would have balked at the sight of him and the mysteries surrounding his capabilities, Esdeath maintained her composure and sought to formulate a strategy of attack. It was admirable, if not for the fact that in this moment, she was his enemy.
Ice suddenly mounted around her, a shield to block the buffeting winds generated from his careful switch from controlled output, to an unmitigated blitz.
He took in a steady breath, and then released it, the air crackling around him.
Magic energy was something not so easily harnessed in this new world such that when in the act of doing so, it created abnormal phenomena. The unknown, no matter how captivating, was bound to instill an air of caution in Esdeath.
He'd always thought of her as more of an aggressor than a passive fighter, but here she was seriously observing every action he would take. Even she must have heard the rumours regarding him.
They called him a Wizard, a practitioner of magic.
Given his current display, she truly believed it as well as many others.
Still, she could watch all she liked. His surge of energy wouldn't last for more than he'd need it to, but not through any will of his own. He was quickly running out of energy, just barely maintaining the minimum required to keep his Reality Marble active for just a short while longer.
His eyes closed, then opened, revealing a gaze of cold steel.
Inwardly, he set a timer for no less than five minutes that he knew would deplete rapidly with excessive use of force. This wasn't a world where magic energy could be freely restored without ample supply of Danger Beasts. Therefore, he had to ration and plan. Fortunately, that step was already done the moment he committed to this war.
"Trace-" The interface patterns that marked his skin hummed to life, pulsating with magic energy. "On."
While his magic energy was still abundant, he willed forth three swords that appeared hovering before him. Esdeath raised a brow in wonderment, sensing the unique aura each sword exuded, but he paid her no mind. Holstering two swords by his waist, he wielded one against the adversary before him under her critical eye.
If her strength was ice, then his would be a fire that would shine down over all.
He held his sword aloft in a single-handed grip: a greatsword that was bulkier at the base, yet possessed a sharpness and power that was beyond mankind's ability to make.
"Excalibur," flames ignited and crawled over the blade, flickering, and releasing smoldering embers. "Galatine."
The temperature around him quickly rose, clashing against the bitter cold and creating an area of steam temporarily overpowered by fire. The sudden spike in sheer heat caused Esdeath to flinch, beads of sweat trickling down her brow before increasing waves of frost soon cooled her features.
"How poetic," Esdeath muttered.
Ice against fire, oh he certainly understood.
It was a clashing of polar opposites, both equally neutralizing the other.
Carefully watching Esdeath, Shirou shielded his face from a sudden onset of cold. He watched her smiling, a feral, almost savage air surrounding her. Ice spread out from beneath her heeled boots, stretching towards him before melting in the boundary of hot and cold. Everywhere else behind her though, was beginning to freeze into a world of white.
Against him, she must have understood that numbers would never be the answer considering his ability to summon an unlimited number of pelting swords.
All at once, she seemed to release and absorb the power of all the ice she could muster, affecting everything around her. In the sky above, dark clouds began to set and writhe with tendrils of lightning. Rain poured, but under the icy conditions, snow fell instead, creating a heavy blizzard that only fueled her absorption.
Shirou was forced to reassess his evaluation of Esdeath while observing the sudden changes in his own Reality Marble.
What she was, was a walking natural disaster.
In response to his sword, she drew and wielded a rapier strapped to her waist.
He had little time to react or brace himself before she was on him. Like he'd thought from her body-type, she was fast, reaching him in almost an instant and already aiming at two vital points at once. Her rapier was aimed at his neck in a thrust, and serrated ice extended from her forward knee threatened to gouge his guts.
Faced with the choice of protecting his neck or his fleshy stomach, he instinctively followed through with the learned history and skill of the sword he was wielding. His body moved on its own, taking the surest path to re-enact a maneuver to wield his sword with overbearing might. His demeanor instantly changed. Thanks to this, he was able to perform the block even with his mind in a blank state.
Clang!
His sword just barely grazed Esdeath's while a flare of heat around him, melted her serrated ice.
His judgement was correct in that Esdeath had hesitated and dug a heel into the ground with her lead foot, slowing her down enough to evade if she chose not to commit to the attack. The speed of the strike was halved in her hyper-focused observation.
She grunted before returning a salve of thrusts and stabs.
Her strikes were lightning quick and agile, aiming for any opening presented, and showing an unprecedented degree of knowledge on the human body. Every place she aimed for was either lethal or painful, but she was rebuffed each time by a violent swordsmanship.
Shirou neither dodged nor countered the blows raining down on him. His was a simpler approach.
Not only would Tracing a weapon allow him to create any weapon he laid eyes on, but the history and skill of its owners are passed down to him as well, enabling him to use them to proficiency.
The swing of a sword is based on counter principle.
The lead hand pushes forward while the back hand further down the hilt pulls. In perfect conjunction with the body, force beyond a simple swing is generated.
The original owner of his current sword must have been a gorilla- no a brute. Every ingrained swing and manner of movement denoted overwhelming explosive fire power. The air itself was supercharged with heat wherever the blade passed, burning all that dared get close.
Compared to Esdeath's grace with her rapier, his strikes promised death if struck just a single time, guarded or not. If asked whether he was willing to exchange one of Esdeath's blows for his, the answer of the swordsman he was emulating was a resounding 'Yes.'
Esdeath wasn't so inclined to agree to a one for one, causing her to fail to commit to any attacks that could do any real damage nor be comfortable with a clash of blades. There was no small chance that the heat of his sword would simply cleave through her own. Coated with ice or not, hers was but an ordinary rapier empowered through her Imperial Arm.
Finally, she stomped on the ground beside him. At first, he considered it a missed blow to his toes to destabilize him, but he quickly reconsidered as a stake of towering ice quickly rose to impale him from below.
Flaring his magic energy, a coat of flames surrounded his body. The attack melted before it could do any real damage, creating a puddle of steaming water between the two of them.
Esdeath backpedaled into a retreat, clicking her tongue and scrutinizing every detail of his person.
Approvingly, she was not at all the talkative type when invested in serious combat and it showed in her attentiveness.
She fired a geyser of ice to her left, halting a wall of flames before they could reach her. She didn't even bother turning her head away from him, so sure in her instincts, More importantly, she denied him any opportunity to exploit a lapse in attention.
When she ended up leaping away when the ground beneath her then began to bubble and release a torrent of fire, he wasn't even surprised.
Those beast-like senses, reflexes, and battle sense. What a terrifying woman.
Testingly, webs of ice twisted and turned, trying to approach from any sort of blind spot, but the application of intense heat around him left it nigh impossible to be affected by the ice. They were dead even while testing each other, but this may change the moment either side commits.
Shirou would rather this happen on his own grounds.
He took in a breath and darted his eyes in search of an opening that he could use to just keep Esdeath still. One good swing, and this all ends.
To do that, he needed to prioritize.
Flecks of snow stinging his eyes returned his attention back to the sky, and the way the cold it produced gravitated towards Esdeath and maintained her stamina.
That was going to be a problem.
If he wanted to win, he'd first have to eliminate her source of growing energy. His focus turned to the winter storm above, fiery flames rising in temperature around him and channeling towards the sword in his grip.
He couldn't make it too obvious. If she noticed, she'd definitely summon a mass of ice to stop him.
The moment Esdeath went in again having realized that Shirou had no openings and that she'd have to make her own, Shirou raised his sword back in a cleaving overhead.
'Fool.'
He could practically hear what Esdeath was thinking as her eyes crinkled.
The motion was too telegraphed. His strike had power, especially with the building flames sputtering into an inferno around it, but it meant nothing when a simple side step would lead to immediate evasion.
That was the thing. People who think too far ahead often neglect the simplest answers.
She noticed the trajectory of his swing too late.
It was not her he'd been aiming for.
He cut at the sky, the fires surrounding his sword ejecting from the steel and transforming rapidly into an ever-widening arc of heat. The air sizzled, forming a mirage of light that caused even him to wince as the flames reached the clouds.
The storm parted with the sound of a vacuum, a shower of lingering snow and ice turning into a torrential rain either immediately refrozen or vaporized depending on who they showered over.
The temperature of the area stabilized, Esdeath coming to a stop roughly ten meters in front of him, her features unreadable, yet lacking any trepidation or unease.
Where was her confidence coming from?
Neither of them seemed to have the advantage, and it wasn't as if either of them had used any of their trump cards. Knowing Esdeath, she was likely still holding some of her own back in consideration for the other two swords strapped to his waist. Unfortunately, those other two were never intended for her in the first place.
One strike. If he could just get a single strike in...
Esdeath laughed, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she spoke to him for the first time in battle. "How tedious, lets see how you handle this?"
Gripping the handle of his sword, his nose twitched as he felt as if the world briefly glitched, time going out of the fritz. More accurately, it felt as if he'd experienced some sort of delay.
Simultaneously, he'd raised his sword to get into stance on reflex, and then suddenly realized the world was spinning.
Right in front of him, his pupils enlarged as Esdeath's rapier was mere inches from his breastplate before it made contact.
He couldn't process how she had suddenly vanished, and then reappeared to cut directly across his armour in an instant. If not for his active Reinforcement, he would have been critically injured, but even then, the damage that impacted through his armor rattled his insides. Blood seeped from his mouth, his stomach churning, before he was set into a brutal tumble; the pommel of his own sword crushing his left palm as his added weight fell on top of it at one point. The elbow was no better, bent oddly at the joint.
He stifled a groan while picking himself back onto his feet, forcing himself to keep his attention on Esdeath no matter what.
She was panting for breath, looking more tired than she ever had in their entire bout, rapier still outstretched in a piercing thrust that clearly didn't puncture through.
"...You managed to block even that?" She muttered dimly, a chink finally breaking in her aloofness. "Can my fangs really not reach you?" She continued to murmur, rattled at the difficulty.
Through Partas tradition, one of the combatants would have their claws shattered in this barbaric courting ritual to decide who gets to continue hunting, and who's forced to rear the next generation of kin.
Shirou was disgusted by this when he heard it from Chouri, but more than that. From the grim look on Esdeath's face, it seemed that she'd never considered that it would be her with the potential to be defanged and declawed, forced into the submissive end of Partas tradition.
Regardless, Shirou could not afford to give Esdeath another chance to do what she just did. He was more than aware that he was fortunate that with her strength, she didn't aim for his neck.
Was it out of mercy, or possessiveness?
Mercy was out of the question.
She likely really wasn't lying when she said she was trying to court him.
Given the choice, it was clear that she didn't want to really kill him despite him trying to do so the entire time. Maybe she thought he wouldn't carry through with it?
It was true that one could only exhibit their strongest while infusing killing intent into every action, and Esdeath herself was no better. If not properly guarded, he would die, but at the same time, it seemed that she expected him to be able to block in the first place.
Yet, when presented the chance to potentially kill him unguarded...she didn't take it for all its worth.
For a second, Shirou hesitated before finding his resolve again.
Esdeath still put his life at risk through the durability of his armour and body.
He would extend the same courtesy.
His left hand and arm were essentially useless now, but as long as he could still hold a sword in his right, he still had the capacity to pull off a gamble.
Too many openings would be provided on his injured left side for him to consider besting Esdeath through swordsmanship alone or with a single good strike for any longer.
His own pragmatism all but assured him that there was no longer any turning back.
What had to be done, had to be done.
A world where he could persuade Esdeath to stop, and she'd stop did not exist.
Clearing his mind of doubt, the sword in his right hand thrummed in answer even as his left arm dangled broken.
'Morning light, protect all that is good.'
Fires erupted all around, pushing out with him at its center. A shield of ice appeared to block Esdeath from the flames, but the flames moved around her and passed throughout the area. In their wake, a spinning magic sigil formed.
Instinctively, he could tell that Esdeath felt trepidation at the sudden appearance of something she had no hope of comprehending.
Escape was the obvious answer.
Not that he would have let her, but the insurance of a further wall of flame was unneeded due to Esdeath herself.
As if too exhausted, her movements were momentarily delayed, and by then, the spreading fire had already insnared her in a dome of heat she could no longer jump out of. She attempted to do so, but the ice coating her body created pressurized steam that forced her back to her position.
Finally, realizing that she had little choice left, Shirou watched as she refocused on him at the center of the dome.
Her features were carefully devoid of her thoughts, her eyes analysing everything around her, but sadly, there was no turning back from this point.
He reared his one good arm back, head craning up to stare at the arching center of the dome.
"Sacred Sword," he intoned, muscles tensing before he threw the weapon into the air. "Release!"
Both watched as the sword flew and floated above them both, showing no signs of returning. Pulsing, it released even greater temperatures such that everything within the dome began to cook and sizzle. The echo of shattering ice constantly fizzled out into vaporized steam.
Breaths grew hoarse, skin drying, lips chapping.
"Life spreads from the warmth of light, neither righteous nor ignoble."
Shirou stretched his right hand forth, fingers splayed, palm open towards the sword. His muscles spasmed, veins popping over his skin as power was channeled through him as a conduit. He staggered, feet shifting to accommodate as he continued unhindered.
"Nothing can dim it; nothing can hide from it."
Esdeath was terrifyingly observant. It was clear that she may not understand what was going on, but that she wouldn't like it if she left him to his own devices.
As predicted, she charged, causing him to tense.
"No degree of worldly darkness may taint its luster."
He enacted his will. Before Esdeath could draw close, the fires were already moving. The dome shrunk, keeping only Esdeath within, and he safely outside. Brushing up against the boundary to break through, Esdeath was once more rebuffed. The smaller the area covered, the higher the heat and pressure within grew.
"The glow of a distant dawn is the representation of the hope of a new day, shedding the sorrows, hardships, and losses of bitter regret to bring...A light of Resurrected Victory!"
The blade was reacting. Shuddering, its metal grew into a fiery red then orange, taking on a viscous like material that bubbled and popped. The blade began to bend and ball together like molten metal.
"This sword transfers the sun's body itself."
Esdeath glanced up, features growing more and more pensive as she redoubled her efforts to escape. Puddles of water constantly formed and spread across the ground, but were immediately vaporized. No darkness was permitted to exist within the dome.
"Turn your face to the sun, and all shadows will fall behind you."
Shirou could see the first hints of desperation make their way into Esdeath's features as she realized...she couldn't escape.
"The heat of these flames shall cleanse the impure."
He shut his eyes to it, dulling his senses.
The sword itself at the center of the molten mass finally cracked and splintered; the energies contained within it breaking past the point of the sword's own durability to actualize its greatest crystallized legend.
A Broken Phantasm.
"The sun will descend here."
The Holy Sword of the Sun.
That which represents the center of the universe.
The tossed blade was no more. In its place, was a ball of heat and power that couldn't be mistaken for anything else. All who stared upon it directly would grow blind. All who bathed in its glow would know of its heat.
"Excalibur Galatine-"
His trembling outstretched right palm closed into a clenched fist.
"Star Fall!"
-A radiant star that falls from the sky.
The formed sun imploded, a star descending from the reaches of space, bearing its full weight down on the earth. Super heated temperatures caused the liquefaction of the ground itself, swallowing all.
Laughter. She was laughing. She was actually laughing.
Between the wisps of flames that comprised the dome of fire, for a second, Shirou saw torrential ice form a meager shell, but even then, the flames overlapped and rose above and beyond them.
A shudder traveled down Shirou's back. Was it regret? Pity? Or simply grief that it had come to this once more? To play arbitrator of the scales of one life over another's when all he'd really wanted was to be a hero that could save everyone.
'-if you can't live without that dream, let it drag you down and drown you!'
Staring vacantly, "...survive," was all Shirou could whisper to the blaze with a clenched jaw.
The sun and dome would not fade until all the stored energy within was consumed. Whether Esdeath burned in the fires, or lasted until the end, she no longer had to be included in the overall picture.
How ironic.
Live or die, strength would decide.
It was just in time...because he could no longer maintain the current world.
He closed his eyes and walked away amidst his dissipating inner world, the backdrop of a burning sun behind him too bright to face.
The battle for the capital's walls was over, those that lived either escaping or shouting in vain glory at victory.
His feet crunched the scorched earth beneath him as he glanced at the remains of the once ginormous Danger Beast bones hauled by his forces in the distance. All were reduced to ashes, looking as if they had never been there.
There were no longer any stores of magic energy for him to draw from. What he had now of the original three swords, was all he had left. One was gone, but the other two remained.
Sheathed on his waist, he slowly drew forth the second sword under solemn silence, and raised it high, calling for a rally. An azure hue coated the tip of the sword in hand, acting as a beacon for change. Spinning sparks of fairy-like light emanated from the sword and swirled around him. A moment later, they covered the traditional knight's armour Chouri had him wear in his role as a 'Hero King,' set to reclaim the throne.
That which was silver and stained with dirt, sweat, and splotches of blood was purified into an ivory white. The tattered gray mantle pinned over his right pauldron transformed into a navy blue, gilded with gold trim. The colouring soon bled into the rest of the armour. First the greaves and vambraces, then articulated rerebraces, cuisses, and sabatons. Finally, the breast plate engraved with the image of three gold crowns even appeared.
The armour was light yet regal, sturdy, yet sleek.
Injured or not, to others, it appeared as if the bumpkin on the fringes of the Empire had completed his journey and transitioned into the bearings and demeanor of the rightful heir.
Chouri looked gratified.
Bulat whistled.
Lubbock grunted.
Elaine was proudly sniffling.
Selka was indifferent yet red in the face.
Akame stared with a turbid daze, applying pressure to a bleeding wound over her stomach which she hid out of view.
Finally, Najenda opened and closed her mouth before she sighed. Twinkling light glinted in her eyes, lifting her pensive features as anticipation made her jittery. In the end, she said nothing and gave a military salute.
Shoulders squared, feet in stance, one arm crossed behind the back, the other held in position near the head.
Spurred by the action, the rest began to follow.
Wordlessly, Shirou then led the way forward, the others in front of him, parting to let him through in humble adoration.
The war had just started and he was already tired of it.
He was the first to pass the capital's gates, his gaze focused on the parliamentary building where the center of the Empire's corruption continued to fester.
His second drawn sword guided him onward to vanquish the unrighteous.
The light of the lake would shine.
.
.
.
-One sword and an arm to melt the frigid ice that protects the Empire.
-Two more and whatever else to capture the capital.
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