Fate: I Will Eventually Become the Hero of Justice

In Vâlcea, Shirou had no idea that, in this Holy Grail War, someone was actually playing a king's game he had grown tired of.

He stood atop a skyscraper, gazing down at the city, trying to draw out whoever was pulling the strings behind the scenes. Shirou was pretty sure that Vâlcea held some information about the "connecting point" that Mash had mentioned earlier.

This information likely had something to do with the church leader and their second-in-command. And even if it didn't, it was definitely worth investigating further. He was, after all, still a participant in this Holy Grail War.

But despite his efforts to attract attention, nobody showed up.

"Uh, Mr. Fujimaru, can we head back down now?" Mash asked cautiously.

Her thin clothing was ill-suited for the biting wind at this altitude, so she huddled for warmth within the large, black palm that held her.

"What's wrong?"

She pointed downward. "It just feels wrong to stand here. Look, they're all shouting at us."

Glancing below, he couldn't help but chuckle. A sizable crowd had gathered, pointing and yelling for them to come down. These were mostly the same people who had earlier filled the city square—devout followers of the dubious cult.

Their shouts were mostly accusations of being demons and witches, with demands for them to get lost.

Shirou was unfazed by the jeers from the crowd below. He turned to Mash, an intrigued expression on his face. "It's interesting how considerate you are, Master. Especially considering these people were keen on burning you at the stake not too long ago."

"Uh... well..." she was at a loss for words.

He smiled. "Being too considerate can sometimes hold you back, Master."

"I see," she nodded, taking in his words.

"Besides," he added, "we're definitely being watched."

Mashu: "?"

It was no surprise that she didn't quite understand. But true to his words, someone was indeed observing them through a crystal ball from somewhere in the city, wearing a frown.

"What's Assassin doing here?" The figure mumbled, visibly concerned.

Known as the Red Caster, this individual was well aware of Jeanne d'Arc, the Ruler, and the recent clash between the Red and Black factions. Caster also knew that Shirou, operating as the Assassin for the Black faction, had killed Achilles, the Rider of the Red faction.

Caster had thought about intervening during that battle but decided against it upon realizing that Jeanne d'Arc was present. After all, making an appearance in front of her would mean revealing his true identity.

It wasn't the Ruler class's innate "True Name Discernment" skill that concerned him. The real issue was that Jeanne d'Arc would recognize his identity the moment she laid eyes on him, and she could potentially use a Command Seal to eliminate him right there and then—thanks to her Ruler-class privileges.

So, while his Master had already headed to Trifas, he chose to stay behind in Vâlcea, biding his time and waiting for the right opportunity.

What he hadn't anticipated was that Shirou—the Black Assassin who had performed spectacularly in the recent skirmish—would show up in Vâlcea and start causing trouble in this place.

What's more, his attempts at mental interference had failed spectacularly. Not only had he failed, but the mental energy he'd used was absorbed silently, leaving no trace. 

This was simply unbelievable!

His mental manipulation came from forbidden knowledge connected to some ancient evil gods. This was a power that could manipulate not just minds but even warp the very fabric of reality itself. And yet, even this forbidden knowledge had been effortlessly consumed by Assassin without causing even a bit of a ripple!

Given such a display, it was no wonder that this Assassin had managed to take down a legendary hero like Achilles.

Taking all this into account, the Red Caster mulled over his options. With his Master not nearby, he opted for caution and decided to hold off on any action, at least for now.

But the moment he was about to stop observing Assassin, something unexpected happened. Shirou abruptly turned his head, as if his eyes could see through the crystal ball itself. His face broke into a bright, sunny smile that felt as radiant as the sun.

"What the... how could he possibly know I'm here?" Caster's face twisted in disbelief.

Unlike other Casters, his magical prowess didn't originate from the likes of Solomon, the King of Magecraft, or the Kabbalistic foundation of Avicebron. Instead, his powers were sourced from forbidden knowledge connected to ancient, evil gods that predated humanity itself.

Given his capability for concealment, Caster had been incredibly confident. However, just when he considered abandoning his surveillance, Shirou's head snapped around. His eyes seemed to lock onto Caster's, as though piercing through the very crystal ball he was using. A bright, confident smile stretched across his face.

Dumbfounded, Caster found himself questioning his own abilities. How had he been so easily detected?

Meanwhile, back on the skyscraper, Shirou's black wings unfurled as he launched himself toward an ordinary TV station.

The swarm of devout citizens who had been jeering from below saw him leaving and chased after him, convinced that they had frightened away the "devil and witch" who had desecrated their sacred place.

"Uh, Mr. Fujimaru, where are we going?" Mash, cradled in the giant palm, peeked her head out to ask.

"I've found our target," he answered with a smile.

"Eh?"

Mash looked perplexed, not fully understanding what was happening.

But Shirou continued flying directly toward the seemingly ordinary TV station. He was convinced that the person he was seeking would be there.

Back in his hidden base, Caster was at a loss. Despite his formidable magical heritage, he had been discovered. How had Assassin managed to do it?

He was just standing here, not making any sudden moves. And yet, the Assassin of Black found him...

No, that couldn't be right.

He must be getting played!

Deception is as old as history itself.

Hadn't he deceived Jeanne in the same way during the Hundred Years' War between England and France?

But as Shirou soared toward the ordinary thirty-meter-tall TV station, a massive black arm shot out, gripping a gargantuan sixty-meter-long blade known as [Ig-Alima: Green Field Cutting Through the Thousand Mountains (Fake)].

As the sword, more than sixty meters in length, was drawn, Mash recoiled.

"What...what is this?" she was shocked.

This colossal sword was clearly a formidable Noble Phantasm; its mere existence was intimidating.

Below, the bystanders who had tagged along were utterly stupefied.

Only the murmurs of the "demon" persisted.

Shirou remained unfazed. The gigantic arm behind him raised Ig-Alima high into the air, then slashed horizontally, cutting through the ordinary-looking thirty-meter-tall TV station.

Not good!

Caster's eyes contracted sharply, filled with sudden alarm.

This guy... 

This guy has really found out!

The colossal sword, Ig-Alima, came crashing down like a falling mountain.

The wind screamed in its wake.

Caster clenched his teeth; there was nowhere left to hide.

Who could escape a strike of this magnitude?

And then—

Just as the sword, towering over sixty meters in length, was about to decimate the seemingly average TV station building, seven enormous pitch-black tentacles burst forth from the building and wrapped around Ig-Alima.

With a show of staggering strength, the tentacles miraculously stopped the sword's lethal descent.

"The building has grown tentacles!" Mash looked on in astonishment.

"So you've decided to come out of hiding, you sneaky rat," Shirou sneered.

Suddenly, the very fabric of the building seemed to tremble.

As if some illusory veil had been yanked away, revealing its true nature.

"What... what is that? Is that a monster?"

Mash stared in disbelief.

This wasn't a TV station at all!

It was a monstrous, thirty-meter-tall octopus-like creature, standing at the heart of the city!

...

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