Indra the God
patreon
Archer the Sorcerer Chapter 5
🕑 Added 2024-10-03 12:31:40 +0000 UTCChapter 5: Please Help Her
The air grew cooler as they ventured deeper into the forest. The thick canopy overhead filtered out most of the daylight, casting a patchwork of shadow and muted greens across the ground.
Megumi's Shikigami led the way, its white fur glowing faintly in the dim light. It moved with purpose, its tail swishing as it darted between trees, nose to the ground as if it could sense something hidden just beyond their sight.
Satoru strolled behind with his usual lazy confidence, hands casually tucked into his pockets. Shirou walked beside Megumi, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings, every subtle shift of movement catching his attention.
Despite his composed demeanor, there was an intensity about him that seemed to flicker beneath the surface—one that Satoru didn’t miss.
“So, Megumi,” Satoru began, his voice low but carrying clearly through the stillness of the forest. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you more about the Ten Shadows Technique.”
Megumi glanced back at him, his expression neutral. “What about it?”
“Well,” Satoru drawled, raising a brow. “For one thing, you’ve been managing to control some pretty advanced Shikigami at your age. The white dog you’re using is part of the twin set, right? The Divine Dogs?”
Megumi nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’ve summoned the other one too, but… it’s not as stable.”
“It’s impressive,” Satoru remarked lightly, then shifted his gaze toward the Shikigami leading them. “Most users of the Ten Shadows would need years of training to summon two Divine Dogs at the same time. But you’ve got the potential to do much more.”
He leaned forward a bit, his eyes gleaming with interest. “Do you know what your technique is capable of, Megumi? How far you can push it?”
Megumi hesitated. He’d been aware of the unique power his inherited technique possessed, but Satoru’s words carried an unfamiliar weight. He swallowed and shook his head slightly.
“There’s… still a lot I don’t understand about it.”
“Fair enough,” Satoru replied, smiling slightly. “But that’s what I’m here for. You see, the Ten Shadows Technique is special because it doesn’t just summon creatures. It allows you to manifest and manipulate multiple powerful Shikigami simultaneously, each one representing a distinct shadow. You’ve seen the Divine Dogs, but there are others.”
“Don’t worry,” Satoru said softly, noticing the shift in Megumi’s gaze. “I’m not saying you need to use it now. But you have to know what’s in your arsenal if you’re going to grow stronger.”
“How come that you know all this about my abilities?” Megumi asked Satoru while having a more curious expression than ever.
“Well, that’s a story for another time,” Satoru vaguely answered. “A very interesting story about our families’ history… that can take a while to tell.”
As Megumi mulled over his teacher’s words, Satoru’s gaze shifted to Shirou, who had been listening quietly all this time. His face betrayed no emotion, but there was a sharpness to his posture, as if he were bracing himself.
“And what about you, little brother?” Satoru asked lightly, but his tone held an undercurrent of curiosity. “You’ve got power too. Not Ten Shadows, obviously, but something… different. You’ve been holding back, haven’t you?”
Shirou blinked, momentarily taken aback. His eyes met Satoru’s, and for a moment, they held a silent, unspoken conversation. Then, Shirou sighed softly, shrugging one shoulder.
“I’m not hiding anything,” he replied evenly. “It’s more like… there’s a limit to what I can do right now.”
“Oh?” Satoru tilted his head. “You mean you’re not fully in control of your abilities?”
“It’s not that,” Shirou corrected, his tone patient. “It’s more… complicated. My abilities are linked to… certain conditions. Until I meet those conditions, I can’t use them the way I want to.”
Satoru hummed thoughtfully. “Interesting. And these ‘conditions’—are they something that would be useful in a fight?”
Shirou’s lips twitched slightly, almost as if he were amused. “They’re meant to be. But it’s not that simple.”
“Everything’s complicated with you,” Satoru sighed dramatically, waving a hand. “Fine, fine, keep your secrets for now. Just don’t get in over your head, okay?”
Shirou nodded once, his gaze steady. “I won’t.”
Megumi watched the exchange in silence, his curiosity piqued. He knew Shirou was skilled—more than skilled, actually—but there was still so much about Satoru’s younger brother that remained a mystery. And now, hearing this, Megumi realized there was even more beneath the surface than he’d initially thought.
Their Shikigami guide suddenly slowed, stopping at a fork in the path. The forest seemed to stretch out in two different directions—one leading deeper into a dense thicket, the other veering sharply toward what looked like a narrow, rocky trail. The dog paused, glancing back at Megumi expectantly.
Satoru’s expression shifted, growing serious as he took in their options. “Looks like we’ll need to split up,” he murmured, glancing between the boys. “Megumi, you follow the Shikigami. Keep an eye out for anything unusual and Shirou will follow you.”
The boys exchanged a look but didn’t protest. This was their mission, after all, and Satoru’s faith in them meant something—even if it came with a side of mischief.
“What about you?” Megumi asked, frowning slightly. “Where are you going?”
Satoru grinned, his expression brightening. “I’ll take the rocky path and also check the perimeter. Make sure we don’t have any surprises sneaking up on us.”
“Isn’t it far too dangerous for us to split? And what if we need your help all of a sudden?” Satoru’s little brother went to question his decision, thinking about the unknown dangers that could happen.
“Don’t you worry, Shirou. I got just the thing for it!” Satoru began to rummage his pocket and took out something for the children to see. “Ta da!!”
It was a small white object that had the design something that resembled a whistle, but for Shirou Gojo to see, it was more than that…
“Is that… a rape whistle?” he questioned his brother’s object in his hand while also sweat dropping at what Satoru just presented them.
“It’s a whistle for ‘emergency situations’, that’s for sure. Like I said, don’t worry! If anything comes up just blow this thing and I’ll be with you in an instant!” Satoru gleefully explained while looking at the children’s dumbfounded expression.
Megumi took hold of the ‘self-defense’ whistle that Satoru had given them, not wanting for this conversation to go any further in the process.
With that, he gave them a mock salute and turned on his heel, heading off into the forest with an almost lazy stride. Megumi and Shirou watched him go before exchanging a glance.
“Is he always like that in your home?” Megumi muttered quietly.
“He’s always like that anywhere,” Shirou replied softly, then turned toward the path that they should enter.
He glanced back only once, looking at Satoru’s disappearing visage and then his eyes lingered on Megumi’s back as the younger boy followed his Shikigami into the shadows of the forest.
And then, they were alone.
Meanwhile, Satoru moved through the rocky trail with a languid ease, his sharp blue eyes scanning the terrain. Despite his relaxed posture, he was keenly aware of everything around him—the subtle shifts in the air, the faint rustle of leaves, and even the silent tension that seemed to ripple through the forest. Yet, his mind wandered back to Shirou and their earlier conversation.
“Tracing, huh…” Satoru mused quietly to himself. He remembered the first time he’d seen Shirou use that particular ability.
The younger Gojo had always been a bit of an enigma—different from the other sorcerers Satoru knew. Shirou’s technique didn’t just conjure things out of thin air; it replicated them with startling accuracy.
He couldn’t help but think about his little brother’s abilities. Shirou’s power wasn’t something Satoru had encountered before—not in the usual sense, at least.
It wasn’t bound by traditional Cursed Energy techniques, and there was something deeply unusual about the way he wielded it. What Shirou referred to as “Tracing” was a remarkable skill—one that allowed him to analyze, deconstruct, and replicate objects down to their very essence.
But there was more to it than that.
“It’s like… the Construction Technique,” Satoru mused aloud, his voice low as he glanced up at the darkening sky. “But even that’s not quite right. Construction is a rare ability, even among the Zen’in Clan, and it’s limited by the enormous amount of Cursed Energy it takes to create something from scratch.”
Construction—an ability that manifested in certain sorcerers, allowing them to generate objects out of pure Cursed Energy. The technique was incredibly powerful but had a fatal flaw: it consumed an astronomical amount of energy, often leaving the user drained and vulnerable. Because of that, it was considered one of the most dangerous and impractical techniques to master.
But Shirou’s ability didn’t seem to follow those rules.
“With Shirou, it’s different,” Satoru continued softly, narrowing his eyes as he considered it. “He creates objects even though his Cursed Energy is on the low side. He traces them as well, not constructing them. It’s like he’s reconstructing the concept, rather than just its physical form. And it doesn’t seem to tire him out the same way.”
That difference was crucial. If Shirou could manifest complex weapons and tools without suffering the drawbacks of Construction, it made his ability something else entirely. Satoru had only seen glimpses of what his brother was truly capable of—blades that shimmered with an ethereal light, arrows that seemed to sing through the air, weapons that appeared and vanished in the blink of an eye.
Each one was a perfect replica of its original, down to the smallest detail.
“Almost like he’s replicating the history of each item,” Satoru mused, lips curving into a thoughtful smile. “But the real question is, why? How does he know how to do all that? And what are these ‘conditions’ he mentioned?”
Tracing had potential—massive potential. If Shirou could refine it, control it fully… there might not be a limit to what he could create. But there was also a dangerous side to it, and that’s what concerned Satoru the most. Shirou’s ability was similar enough to Construction that it raised uncomfortable questions about its origin. Was it truly something he’d developed on his own? Or… was it inherited?
“And if it’s inherited… from who?” Satoru wondered, his gaze sharpening. The Gojo clan had no record of such a technique. The thought that Shirou’s ability might be linked to something older, something buried deep in sorcerer history, made Satoru’s instincts tingle with curiosity—and a touch of wariness.
But before he could pursue the thought further, a sudden shift in the atmosphere snapped his attention back to the present.
The forest had grown eerily quiet. Too quiet.
Satoru’s steps slowed, his gaze sweeping the path ahead. A low hum of Cursed Energy vibrated in the air, subtle but unmistakable. Then, almost as if in response to his awareness, four dark shapes materialized from the underbrush, coalescing into twisted forms that radiated malice.
The Cursed Spirits were large, grotesque things, their bodies contorted in unnatural ways. Each had a vaguely humanoid shape, but with limbs that jutted out at odd angles, and faces that seemed to melt and reform continuously. They moved with a strange, jerky grace, eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger as they encircled Satoru.
“Ah, company already?” Satoru murmured, his lips curving into a grin. There was no fear in his expression, only a flicker of excitement. “And here I thought I’d have to look a bit harder for some entertainment.”
The largest of the four Spirits—its hulking form towering over the others—let out a guttural snarl. It lunged forward, its clawed hand slashing through the air toward Satoru’s face with deadly speed.
But before it could even touch him, Satoru’s form blurred. One moment he was standing directly in its path; the next, he was behind it, his back turned as if he hadn’t even moved.
The Spirit froze, confusion flickering in its malevolent gaze. And then, slowly, it looked down.
A thin, crimson line had appeared across its chest.
“Oops,” Satoru said lightly, glancing back over his shoulder. “Looks like you’re not as tough as you thought.”
The Spirit’s body split in half, the upper portion sliding away as if severed by an invisible blade. It crumbled to the ground in a heap of black, oily residue, its form dissolving into a pool of dark energy.
The remaining three Spirits hissed in alarm, recoiling slightly. But Satoru’s grin only widened, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared already,” he taunted, cracking his knuckles. “We’ve only just started.”
One of the Spirits, a smaller, more serpentine creature, let out a high-pitched shriek. Its body shimmered, splitting into a dozen identical copies that circled Satoru, each one darting forward in a flurry of teeth and claws.
Satoru didn’t even flinch. He lifted one hand lazily, his fingers splaying out as if reaching for something unseen.
“Domain Expansion—”
The words were soft, almost a whisper, but the effect was immediate. The air around him warped, reality itself seeming to bend as a shimmering barrier of pure Cursed Energy rippled outward. The Spirits froze, their forms flickering as if caught in a sudden gravitational pull.
But Satoru paused, his grin fading slightly. No… not yet. He didn’t want to use his Domain here—not for these small fry.
“On second thought,” he murmured, lowering his hand. “Let’s make this a bit more fun.”
With a flick of his wrist, a surge of Cursed Energy exploded from his body, a wave of raw, unfiltered power that slammed into the Spirits like a physical force. The smaller copies shattered instantly, dissipating into black mist. The remaining two Spirits staggered back, their bodies trembling violently.
“Now, then…” Satoru’s gaze sharpened, his expression shifting from playful to deadly serious in an instant. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The Spirits roared, their twisted forms contorting as they charged at him, desperation and rage fueling their movements. But Satoru was already moving, his form a blur of white and blue light as he met them head-on.
And then the forest was filled with the sounds of battle—the crack of energy, the hiss of dissolving flesh, and Satoru’s low, mocking laughter echoing through the trees.
***********
The sky was still resolving it’s brightest, even though there was many clouds were shading it and also the surrounding form of trees darkening his point of view, making it seem like it was almost the evening even though it was still the afternoon.
He walked through the forest while following his dog with a fluffy white tail, his view was focused on his Shikigami’s waging tail as it kept on trotting towards the unknown destination.
Megumi was still just a child and he didn’t feel any kind of fear as he walked through the forest’s pathway, but his thoughts were filled with the unknown dangers of the Cursed Spirit that was holding children hostage.
His mind was focused on just one single goal; finding the rest of the missing children that had been caught by the found footage.
As his train of thought was being accompanied by the sound of the forest’s life and the sounds of not only his footsteps, but also the footsteps of another child closely behind him.
He was not the only child that was walking in the middle of a vast forest, as the younger Gojo was with him as well.
Unlike his obnoxious, loud and annoying elder brother, Shirou Gojo was calm and collected. It was a contrast of age and maturity when it came towards the Gojo siblings.
A contrast that he definitely appreciated, as he wouldn’t want a small version of Satoru Gojo accompanying him as of this point.
Though with the unknown danger that they were about to face, perhaps Satoru’s presence would be a bit more welcomed just for this time.
The forest seemed to stretch on endlessly, shadows dancing along the edges of Megumi’s vision. The rustling leaves and occasional call of birds were the only signs of life. Even the air felt different—thick and charged with an unspoken tension. As Megumi walked, he kept his gaze fixed on his Shikigami’s fluffy white tail, the only beacon of familiarity in the oppressive atmosphere.
Shirou Gojo followed a few steps behind him, silent and watchful. For a while, neither of them spoke, content to let the sounds of the forest fill the space between them.
But as they delved deeper into the woods, the silence began to feel… strange. Uncomfortable, even. Megumi stole a glance over his shoulder, noticing how Shirou’s eyes darted from shadow to shadow, every muscle in his small frame coiled and alert.
He hesitated, then finally cleared his throat softly. “Shirou,” he started, his voice breaking the quiet. “You okay back there?”
Shirou blinked, his focus snapping back to Megumi. His face, usually composed and calm, softened slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied evenly. “Just… being cautious.”
Megumi nodded slowly. It made sense. Caution was necessary, especially with the kind of mission they were on. But still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else weighing on Shirou’s mind.
“Not scared or anything, right?” Megumi added, a slight teasing lilt in his voice.
Shirou raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I could ask the same of you,” he replied. “After all, you’re the one who’s been watching the dog’s tail like it’s a lifeline.”
Megumi’s face flushed slightly, and he huffed, turning his gaze back to the Shikigami. “I’m just making sure we’re going the right way,” he mumbled. “We can’t afford to get lost, you know.”
“I know,” Shirou murmured. “But you don’t have to worry so much. We’ll find them.”
There was a quiet confidence in his words that made Megumi pause. He glanced back again, studying Shirou’s expression—the calm set of his jaw, the steady determination in his eyes. Even though Shirou was the same age as him, there was a maturity to him that felt… reassuring. Almost comforting.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Megumi muttered, more to himself than to Shirou. Then, after a brief hesitation, he added, “So… you’ve dealt with Cursed Spirits before, haven’t you?”
Shirou’s gaze flicked to the side, thoughtful. “A few,” he admitted. “But only for training. This is the first time I’ve gone on a mission as well.”
Megumi nodded, his fists clenching at his sides. “Yeah. It’s why we have to be careful. We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”
“Right,” Shirou agreed softly. “But don’t worry, if anything comes up, I’ll make sure we’ll be safe... or just blow that… whistle.”
Megumi glanced back, surprised. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the Shikigami up ahead suddenly slowed, its ears pricking forward. Megumi’s heart skipped a beat, and he tensed, raising a hand to signal Shirou to stop.
“What is it?” Shirou whispered, his eyes narrowing as he peered into the darkness.
The white dog let out a low, warning growl, its gaze locked on something just beyond the thick underbrush. Megumi’s pulse quickened as he strained to see through the tangled branches. And then—there it was.
A faint outline of a building, hidden amidst the twisted trees and dense foliage. It was old and dilapidated, the wooden walls warped and splintered with age. The roof sagged inward, covered in patches of moss and creeping vines. Broken windows stared out like empty eyes, and the air around it felt… wrong. Thick with malevolent energy.
“There,” Megumi whispered, his voice tight. “That’s it.”
Shirou stepped forward, his expression hardening as he took in the sight of the rundown house. “So that’s where that abomination is keeping the children.”
Megumi nodded grimly. “Looks like it.”
For a moment, neither of them moved. The house loomed before them like a silent sentinel, its presence oppressive and foreboding. But then the white dog turned its head, looking back at Megumi with a low whine. Its message was clear.
This was where the trail ends.
Megumi took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Alright,” he murmured, glancing at Shirou. “Should we just rush in or blow the whistle now?”
“Perhaps, we can get the children to safety just like what your Shikigami did to one of the lost children a few moments ago,” Shirou replied. “But we have to be quick. We don’t know how much time the kids have. If it appears, then we blow the whistle.”
With a nod, the two boys began to creep forward, the Shikigami leading them silently through the underbrush. As they approached, Megumi’s heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing like a drum in the stillness. The closer they got, the stronger the sensation of evil grew, until it felt like a tangible weight pressing down on them.
Finally, they reached the edge of the clearing surrounding the house. Megumi crouched low, peering through the thick bushes, his breath hitching as he took in the scene before him.
The house was even worse up close. The walls were covered in strange, dark stains—like something had seeped out from within, staining the wood with a sickly, reddish hue. The front door hung ajar, creaking softly as it swayed in the breeze, and from within, a faint, muffled sound echoed—a sound that sent chills racing down Megumi’s spine.
Whimpering.
Megumi’s jaw tightened. “The kids are in there,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Shirou’s eyes narrowed. “But where is the Cursed Spirit?”
Megumi didn’t need to ask what he meant. He could feel it. The presence of a powerful Cursed Spirit, lurking just beyond the threshold of the decrepit house. Its energy was dark and twisted, coiling around the building like a suffocating shroud.
“We need a plan,” Megumi said quietly, his mind racing. “If we just rush in, we might put the kids in more danger.”
Shirou nodded slowly. “Agreed. But we can’t stay out here for long. Wherever it is, it’s going to come back.”
Megumi bit his lip, his gaze darting back to the house. He could feel the fear gnawing at the edges of his resolve, but he shoved it down, focusing instead on the task at hand.
They were sorcerers. They had a responsibility. And right now, those children were counting on them.
“Okay,” he murmured, his voice steadying. “Here’s what we’re going to do…”
But before he could finish, the white dog suddenly stiffened, its ears flattening against its skull. A low growl rumbled in its chest, and Megumi felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
Something was coming.
Shirou’s eyes widened, his head snapping toward the house. “Get ready,” he whispered, his voice tense. “We’re not alone.”
And then, from the darkness of the open doorway, a shadow shifted.
The Cursed Spirit had sensed them. And it was coming out to play.
Megumi and Shirou exchanged a quick, tense look. The atmosphere felt like it had thickened, every nerve in Megumi’s body screaming at him to run—to get away from the house and the malevolent force lurking within. But he forced the fear down, his gaze hardening with resolve. They couldn’t turn back now.
“Stay behind me,” Megumi whispered, his voice barely audible over the soft rustle of the wind. He stepped forward cautiously, the white dog at his side, its fur bristling as it kept low to the ground.
Shirou nodded silently, his eyes never leaving the shadowy doorway ahead. Even though he’d agreed to stay behind Megumi, his posture was alert, ready to move at a moment’s notice.
They crossed the clearing quietly, slipping through the tall grass and creeping toward the decrepit house. The air around them was suffused with a thick, cloying sense of dread that made every breath feel heavy. The closer they got, the more palpable the evil presence became, pressing down on them like a physical weight.
With a barely perceptible nod to Shirou, Megumi took the first step over the crumbling threshold. The wooden floor creaked under his foot, the sound almost deafening in the oppressive silence. He froze, every muscle tensed, but there was no reaction from within.
Taking a deep breath, Megumi moved forward, his Shikigami stepping lightly beside him. Shirou followed close behind, his small frame darting between the shadows as they slipped deeper into the house.
The inside was worse than the outside. The walls were lined with rotting wood and strange, dark stains that dripped down like dried blood. Broken furniture and scattered debris littered the floor, and a foul stench hung heavy in the air—thick and nauseating.
But worse than the sight or the smell, was the feeling. The house pulsed with malevolent energy, every corner, every shadow, whispering with a quiet, insidious malice.
Megumi’s eyes darted around, searching for any sign of the children. They moved slowly, carefully, their senses stretched to the limit as they navigated the cramped, winding halls. The low whimpering sound they’d heard earlier seemed to echo from somewhere deeper inside.
“This way,” Megumi whispered, tilting his head toward a narrow doorway at the end of the hall. Shirou nodded, and they edged forward, their footsteps soundless on the rotting floorboards.
The door creaked open with a soft push, and Megumi felt his heart drop.
Inside the small, dimly lit room, huddled in a corner, were three children. Their faces were pale and tear-streaked, eyes wide with terror. They looked no older than six or seven, their small bodies trembling as they clung to each other. Megumi’s chest tightened at the sight. He moved quickly, kneeling beside them.
“Hey,” he murmured softly, keeping his voice as calm and gentle as he could. “It’s okay. We’re here to help.”
The children stared at him, their eyes glassy and unfocused. They didn’t respond, didn’t even seem to register his presence. It was like they were trapped in some kind of waking nightmare.
“Megumi,” Shirou’s voice was low and urgent. Megumi looked up sharply, his gaze following Shirou’s to the far corner of the room.
And that’s when he saw them.
Two more children—lifeless, their bodies slumped against the wall. Their eyes were open, staring blankly at the ceiling, and their small forms were twisted at unnatural angles, as if something had broken them from the inside out. A cold wave of horror washed over Megumi, but he forced himself to stay calm, pushing the rising panic back.
“Dead,” Shirou whispered, his voice tight. “We were too late.”
Megumi not only clenched his fists, but also trying not to throw up while looking at the corpses, his gaze flicking back to the three still-living children.
He didn’t know what had happened here, didn’t want to imagine the horror these kids must have endured. But there was no time to dwell on it. They had to get the survivors out—now.
“Can you stand?” Megumi asked gently, reaching out to the closest child—a little girl with matted hair and a tear-streaked face.
But before he could touch her, the air around them seemed to shudder. A low, guttural growl rumbled from somewhere deep within the house, vibrating through the walls and floor. The children whimpered, shrinking back, their eyes wide with terror.
“Megumi—” Shirou began, his voice tense.
And then, the room darkened.
The shadows seemed to coalesce, swirling together in the far corner where the dead children lay. Megumi’s breath caught in his throat as a figure began to emerge from the darkness—tall, gaunt, and twisted.
“WhO daRes tO aPproaCh My chiLdRen…?” a distorted, otherworldly voice hissed, making the hairs on the back of Megumi’s neck stand up.
The figure in the rocking chair shifted slightly, revealing a glimpse of a face twisted and stretched beyond human recognition. It was a woman—or at least, it had been once. Now, its form was monstrous, warped and fused with countless smaller faces and limbs, as if the essence of every mother who had lost a child in this place had been melded into a single abomination.
“Mother…” Megumi whispered, his voice barely audible.
The creature’s many eyes fixed on them, burning with a mixture of rage and sorrow. “LeaVe… leAve uS aLoNe…”
Megumi gritted his teeth, his fingers twitching as he called forth the shadowy forms of two more Shikigami—twin serpents, their sleek bodies coiled and ready to strike. He couldn’t let this thing get any closer to the kids. They were the only ones left. He wouldn’t let it take them.
“Megumi,” Shirou growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Blow the whistle. Now.”
The creature’s grin widened, its eyes glowing brighter. It laughed—a high, chilling sound that sent shivers down Megumi’s spine.
Megumi then took the whistle that Satoru had given them from his pocket, his eyes not leaving the abomination in front of him.
And then, with a sudden, fluid motion, it lunged.
“Megumi!” Shirou shouted, throwing himself to the side as the creature’s hand slashed through the air where Megumi had been standing just moments before.
Shirou moved instantly, his form blurring as he darted forward, but he was too late as Megumi was pushed to the walls and the whistle that he’d had in hand was broken to pieces.
Megumi was bleeding from the left side of his body but he was still awake, and with the whistle now broken and unusable, he could only mutter a few words with sarcasm lacing his voice.
“Oh, that’s just great…”
************
“Damn, I’m good.”
Satoru said to the silence of the area of the battlefield, while having a grin on his face as he looked at the corpses of the four Cursed Spirits that he had just exorcised.
His sunglasses no longer hid his Six Eyes, making the world to see his perfectly beautiful blue eyes.
Satoru looked at the disappearing corpses of the four Cursed Spirits, as they were vanishing little by little.
The reason why he had split apart with Megumi and Shirou was that he had seen from afar that there were many Cursed Spirits on the end of the rocky path of the forest, making his decision to go here and sent those two toward the other path.
‘These Grade 2’s were coming here because it smells like death here. Truly, this land is cursed, huh…’ Satoru thought as he looked at the vast area of the land.
The bodies of the four Cursed Spirits lay crumpled around him, slowly vanishing into nothingness. Each one had been powerful in its own right, but none stood a chance against him. Not when he barely needed to break a sweat.
“Too easy,” he murmured to himself, dusting off his hands as if to brush away the remnants of the fight.
His gaze turned upward, his expression shifting slightly as he focused on a point far beyond the treetops. With a subtle, imperceptible shift, his Six Eyes started to scan his field of view, his vision sharpening, expanding—stretching across the distance until he could sense the faint, flickering auras of Megumi and Shirou.
For a moment, Satoru watched their energy in silence, his brows furrowing ever so slightly. Even from this distance, he could feel the thick, oppressive weight of the Cursed Energy surrounding them. It wasn’t just any run-of-the-mill spirit they were up against. No, the presence radiating from that decrepit house deep in the forest was far stronger than he’d anticipated.
“Grade 1,” he muttered under his breath, his smile fading slightly. His gaze lingered on the dark, pulsating aura that seemed to envelop the entire area around the house. It was twisted and malevolent, a thick miasma of rage and despair that clawed at the edges of his senses. “Tch. Not the kind of enemy I’d expect them to handle alone.”
“Why haven’t they used the whistle?” Satoru mused softly, his tone almost curious. He’d given them an easy out—a quick, foolproof way to call for his help. All they had to do was blow it, and he’d be there in an instant. So why…?
He leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand as he considered the energy unfolding before his eyes. He could sense Megumi’s stubborn resolve, his determination to prove himself. The kid was always like that—pushing himself to the limit, refusing to back down even when things got tough.
Satoru’s eyes narrowed slightly, his smile returning as realization dawned. “So that’s it,” he murmured, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “You’re waiting for the right trigger, aren’t you, little brother?”
Shirou’s technique was unique—an ability with high potential. It was similar, in a way, to a Cursed Technique called Construction—one that allowed the user to create objects or energies out of nothing, but with a high cost of Cursed Energy.
Satoru had only caught glimpses of what Shirou was capable of, and each time, it had left him wanting to see more.
“Come on, little bro,” he murmured softly, his gaze never leaving the sight of the Cursed Energy being exuded from afar, as it darted around the shadowy figure of the Cursed Spirit. “Show me what you can do.”
The urge to step in, to intervene and crush the Cursed Spirit in an instant, was strong.
He could feel his muscles tensing, his fingers twitching with the desire to leap into the fray. But he held back. They hadn’t called for him. And that meant they weren’t ready to give up yet.
Little did he know the reason they weren’t calling for him was because the ‘emergency situation’ whistle was broken to pieces, making it unusable.
“Guess I’ll let them handle this for awhile,” he muttered, his smile widening. There was a certain thrill in watching from the sidelines, in seeing just how far they could push themselves.
If things got too dangerous, if that oppressive aura started to overwhelm them, he’d step in. But until then…
“I wanna see what you’ve been hiding,” Satoru whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the forest.
He leaned back, crossing his arms as he started walking, not running, towards their position, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and curiosity.
Whatever happened next, it would be interesting. And if Shirou really was as strong as Satoru suspected…
“Well,” he murmured with a grin. “I might not need to intervene at all.”
“Show me your strength, Shirou.”
*********
His heart pounded in his chest as the remnants of the whistle clattered uselessly to the floor, tiny shards glinting in the eerie glow of the darkened room.
The twisted creature—Mother—loomed above Megumi, its many eyes fixated on the two boys with a hatred that felt almost palpable. Its form shifted and expanded, tendrils of darkness stretching out from its body, each one tipped with sharp claws and grasping hands.
Megumi struggled to his feet, the left side of his body dripping blood. He held his ground, breathing heavily, but the pain in his eyes was clear. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long.
“Megumi,” Shirou barked, his voice hard and urgent. “Get the girls and get out of here. Now.”
Megumi’s eyes widened, a flash of defiance sparking within them. “Are you crazy? You can’t fight that thing alone!”
“I’m not asking,” the former Counter Guardian in a child’s body snapped, his gaze never leaving the monster as it hissed and began to advance again. “I’ll hold it off. Just get them to safety. You have the Shikigami—use it to cover your escape.”
“But—”
“Go!” His voice rang out sharply, cutting through the air like a blade. There was no room for argument, no time for hesitation.
With a low growl, Megumi clenched his jaw and nodded, reluctantly turning to where the two surviving girls huddled in the corner, their eyes wide with terror.
The Shikigami dog—the white, ghostly figure that had led them here—trotted up beside Megumi, growling low in its throat as if sensing his intent. It stood protectively between him and the creature, its ears flattened, fur bristling.
“Okay,” Megumi muttered, wincing as he moved. “Stay close to me. We’re getting out of here.”
The girls whimpered but obeyed, scrambling to their feet and clutching at each other as Megumi beckoned to them. He glanced back at Shirou one last time, eyes filled with worry and something else—something like guilt.
“Don’t die,” he whispered, the words almost lost in the chaos.
Shirou didn’t respond, his focus entirely on the abomination before him. As Megumi and the girls edged toward the door, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a second.
He had to be fast. He had to be precise. If he could keep this thing occupied long enough for Megumi to get clear…
Opening his eyes, Shirou Gojo extended his hand. He reached deep within himself, calling on the latent power that pulsed beneath his skin, the energy that flowed through his very bones.
A familiar weight settled into his palm as the magic answered his call, forming into twin shapes—sleek, black and white, the embodiment of his will.
Kanshou and Bakuya.
The twin swords materialized in his hands, their curved blades shimmering faintly in the dim light. Shirou felt a surge of power flow through him as he tightened his grip on the hilts, a sense of focus and clarity sharpening his senses.
The creature hesitated, its countless eyes flickering as if sensing the shift in the air. It let out a low, guttural snarl, the sound vibrating through the walls.
“Come on, then,” he murmured, his lips twisting into a grim smile. “Let’s dance.”
With a roar, the creature lunged, its shadowy limbs extending like jagged spears aimed directly at him. Shirou moved in an instant, his form blurring as he leaped forward to meet its attack head-on. The air cracked around him as he swung the twin blades, the black and white swords slicing cleanly through the cursed tendrils.
The creature shrieked, its limbs recoiling, but the former Heroic Spirit didn’t let up. He pressed forward, his movements a blur of silver and shadow as he struck again and again, his blades flashing in the darkness.
“Let’s end this,” With his Magic Circuits flaring and burning bright, he summoned Black Keys, summoning a dozen identical copies that swirled around him like a storm of razor-edged death.
He sent them flying at the creature, the blades cutting through its twisted form and leaving trails of searing light in their wake.
The creature roared in fury, its shape warping and twisting as it tried to reform. But he was relentless. He dashed around it, his blades a blur as he attacked from every angle, never staying still for more than a heartbeat.
Each strike seemed to drive the creature back, its form flickering and wavering under the onslaught.
And then, a flash of white fur darted in beside him.
“Damn Megumi… why would you send your Shikigami back? I told you to flee with it” Shirou muttered as the Shikigami dog lunged at the creature’s side, its sharp teeth tearing into the shadowy limbs. The cursed spirit recoiled, shrieking as the Shikigami’s jaws closed around one of its arms and wrenched it back.
With a growl, he darted in, his blades flashing as he severed the limb in a single, clean stroke. The creature howled, its form rippling with agony.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Shirou muttered, his eyes gleaming with determination. He could feel the Cursed Energy swirling around him, thick and oppressive, but he refused to back down. Not now. Not when he was so close.
But the creature wasn’t finished yet.
It reared back, its many eyes burning with fury. “YoU… YoU DAre… inTerFerE wiTh My chiLdRen…?!”
With a deafening roar, it unleashed a wave of darkness, a surge of pure, malevolent energy that crashed down toward the child like a tidal wave.
He gritted his teeth, crossing his blades in front of him as the wave slammed into him. The impact was staggering, forcing him back a few steps, but he held his ground. The Shikigami dog stood beside him, its fur bristling as it snarled defiantly at the oncoming darkness.
“I’ve dealt… with monsters far stronger than you,” he announced while pushing back against the wave of cursed energy with every ounce of strength he had.
For a moment, it seemed like he might be overwhelmed. The darkness closed in around him, thick and suffocating.
But then, with a roar of his own, he pushed.
The twin swords in his hands blazed with light, a searing, brilliant glow that pierced through the shadows.
His Magic Circuits were flaring as not only had he activated Projection but also Reinforcement all around his small body, burning his skin with more heat as his skin was darkening more.
The darkness shattered, fragments of cursed energy scattering like broken glass as Shirou surged forward, his blades cutting through the creature’s defenses.
“You’re done.”
With a final, powerful strike, he drove Kanshou and Bakuya deep into the creature’s core. The monster froze, its many eyes widening in shock. For a moment, it seemed to hang there, suspended in midair.
And then, slowly, it began to dissolve, its form unraveling into nothingness.
He stood there, breathing heavily, as the last remnants of the creature faded away. The room was silent, the oppressive aura lifting at last.
“…That’s right,” he murmured softly, a small, triumphant smile tugging at his lips. “That’s the end.”
The Shikigami dog whined softly beside him, nudging his leg with its nose. Shirou glanced down at it, his expression softening slightly.
“Good job, partner,” he murmured, reaching down to scratch behind its ears. “Now… let’s go check on Megumi and the girls.”
And with that, he turned, heading toward the door Megumi had taken—ready to exit the premises.
Before he was about to exit with Megumi’s Shikigami dog, he then heard a whimper.
“Please… help me…”
His eyes widened in an instant, looking back at the room that he was about to exit for one final time.
The former Counter Guardian was more than exhausted; his clothes were ragged and a bit torn from the fighting he had just experienced.
His field of vision consisted of the Cursed Spirit’s corpse; vanishing bit by bit as many Black Keys were still stabbing it, but from the corner of his eyes, he could see a flock of destroyed and rugged tables and wood.
From there was the source of the voice.
“Papa… Mama… Please… help me…”
He started to walk toward the source of the voice’s position, even though he was still exuding injuries and lacerations.
There was a bit of blood trailing down from his forehead towards his eyes, but he didn’t care for it one bit.
He then moved the wood and furniture around, and after that he could see a small lithe body of a female child with her head still being hidden from his view by a piece of wood.
She was wearing a pink sundress, but it was so ragged and torn that he felt a slight tinge of sadness looking at it.
Before he moved it, he then heard another whimper coming from her.
“Help me… Berserker…”
As he moved the piece of wood, he could then finally take a good look at the small little girl crouching and with her downed body leaning against the wall.
In an instant, an influx of memories started to appear. He started to remember a small part of his previous life; not when he had been the Counter Guardian Emiya, but when he had been Shirou Emiya.
The same platinum blonde hair, the same small body of a little girl who he thought he had forgotten her name…
Her eyes were closed; signifying that she was barely conscious, or probably not even conscious at all.
A name then came out of his mouth, a name that he thought he had forgotten. He didn’t even know how his voice uttered this name…
“Illya…?”
Comments
laserot 21
I finished nooo it was very good 😢😢
Xylade
You know what, you're the first one I actually supported in patreon. It's because I feel this story is going to be great. Thank you for the wonderful chapter 😊
Dave Adrian
Still pure JJK
Bookworm bibliophile
I thought you said this would be pure jjk not that i mind but does this change mean there is a magicians in this world.
Dave Adrian
Perhaps still need editing, but that's the gist of it. Next chapter will be uploaded coinciding the upload date for FF as well
