Turquoise waves rolled restlessly upon the sea, yet the luxurious ship remained remarkably stable.
Shirou sat quietly at a dining table onboard, along with the Three Beasts.
They hadn't hidden their identities—in fact, apart from Shirou, none of them could've boarded this ship without openly displaying their status.
This vessel was filled mostly with nobles, and without sufficient standing, one couldn't step aboard at all.
Of course, sneaking aboard was another matter entirely; security wasn't particularly tight.
The guards only bothered checking passengers officially boarding; once onboard, no guard had the courage to question the guests further.
Anyone who could slip past initial inspection could blend in effortlessly.
Aside from the Imperial Palace itself, nowhere else in the Empire was truly difficult to infiltrate.
Shirou had barely sat for a short while before rising from his seat.
"I'll go look around."
He couldn't stand Daidara and Nyau's presence any longer. Though the two hadn't killed openly these past few days, the thick stench of blood lingering around them made Shirou deeply uncomfortable.
Unlike Shirou, who was placed in inns, the Three Beasts each had their own residences. Previously, they'd stayed together primarily because Liver wanted to keep a close eye on Shirou, ensuring he wouldn't slip away.
But seeing Shirou had no intention of escaping, Liver allowed him to stay apart from the other two.
The longer Shirou stayed around Daidara and Nyau, the more likely he'd discover their true nature. Liver was fully aware of this.
The less contact Shirou had with them, the longer he could be kept ignorant of their deeds.
Daidara and Nyau, unable to freely indulge in killing during assassinations, usually vented their urges during the day.
Shirou naturally had no way of knowing this. He merely sensed the lingering bloodlust that surrounded them.
Since their first meeting, the smell had rarely faded. Shirou had grown used to attributing it simply to their violent nature, not considering they'd just killed someone moments before.
Leaving the cabin, Shirou stepped onto the deck to breathe the fresh sea air.
This can't keep going on like this.
Shirou sighed heavily, fully aware the Three Beasts were hiding many things from him.
But here, he was essentially a person with no identity. Aside from the initial intelligence gathered from Lubbock's bookstore, he'd learned virtually nothing useful.
What state was the Empire's emperor currently in? Who were the actual powers sustaining the Empire? What was happening inside the Imperial Palace? And what about this Revolutionary Army standing in opposition?
Shirou knew practically nothing. If he left Liver's side, in this completely unfamiliar land, he'd have nowhere to even begin.
"Hey there!"
A young man with brown hair, dressed awkwardly in a white suit and holding a bottle of red wine, approached Shirou timidly.
"Yes? Is there something?"
A banquet was being held in the main cabin, drawing nearly all the nobles on board.
Shirou eyed this young man suspiciously. He certainly didn't carry himself like a noble.
Likewise, the young man seemed equally unsure about Shirou.
"Um… why did you come up to the deck? Did something happen at the banquet?"
The boy sounded as though speaking casually was new territory, his nervousness obvious.
"I'm just not used to that sort of atmosphere. What about you?"
Though uncertain about the boy's strange anxiety, Shirou nevertheless humored him.
"Me—me too, haha!"
Scratching his head awkwardly, the boy laughed, embarrassment thickening the already tense air.
Thunk!
"Ow!"
A dull knocking sound rang out as the boy clutched his head. His hand jolted, causing red wine to spill onto Shirou.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
Hurriedly, the boy pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, attempting to blot Shirou's stained shirt.
"What just happened?" Shirou asked, more concerned about the strange noise than the wine staining his clothes. It sounded like something had struck the boy's head.
"It—it was the wind! The wind hit me in the head."
Clearly, the boy was terrible at lying.
Shirou frowned slightly, shifting his gaze to the boy's side suspiciously.
"What's your name?"
"Tatsumi! Just call me Tatsumi—"
Thunk!
Before Tatsumi could finish, another sharp knock echoed from his other side.
This time, Shirou clearly saw the air distort unnaturally, the ocean breeze seeming to collide with something invisible, shifting unnaturally as it passed by.
"And what should I call you?"
Tatsumi rubbed his head, wincing slightly, as he looked back up at Shirou.
"Shirou Emiya. Shirou is fine."
"Weird name…" Tatsumi muttered under his breath.
Indeed, no one in the Empire bore such a name, making Tatsumi even more puzzled.
But before he could inquire further, Shirou suddenly lashed out with startling speed, striking directly at the empty space beside Tatsumi.
Clang!
His fist met something as hard as steel, sending a jolt of intense pain racing up his arm. Shirou withdrew his hand sharply, grimacing. Even with his formidable strength, punching what felt like solid metal hurt like hell.
He refused to let out a sound—but that didn't make the pain any less real.
"So, you noticed me after all."
A calm, composed voice emerged from the seemingly empty air beside Shirou.
"Invisibility?"
Shirou instinctively stepped back cautiously.
He could just barely discern a faint outline where the wind warped around the unseen figure.
Thanks to being at sea, with the constant breeze, Shirou could actually perceive the outline. After all, he'd started training from Wind Breathing, giving him heightened sensitivity to subtle changes in the air currents.
If this had been inside the Empire's city, Shirou probably wouldn't have noticed this invisible presence at all. He might've genuinely thought Tatsumi had simply been hit by something random.
After all, the strikes hadn't been deadly. Beyond harmless mischief, nothing would've caught his attention otherwise.
"Don't tell anyone about our presence here."
The voice was firm, carrying a clear warning.
"If you hadn't insisted that I talk to him, big bro, we wouldn't have been discovered in the first place!"
Tatsumi, rubbing his sore head, threw a disgruntled glance toward the invisible figure.
Now they'd blown their cover completely—he'd lost any chance at gathering intel and even earned two sharp knocks to the head.
"This was training for gathering intel. If I'm not around, how would you collect the information you need?"
Yet, the invisible man genuinely hadn't expected this red-haired youth to detect him so effortlessly.
He hadn't stood still while talking with Tatsumi. Instead, he'd moved constantly—and Shirou's eyes had precisely followed his movements. The ease with which Shirou tracked him was frankly astonishing.
Yet neither he nor Tatsumi had any intent to silence Shirou permanently. They weren't the kind who killed innocents. Besides, the issue wasn't severe enough to compromise their mission. They usually operated in darkness anyway, rarely observed by common people.
As long as Shirou remained quiet temporarily, there'd be no need to harm him.
Once this incident ended, even if Shirou reported them to the Empire, it would be far too late to matter.
However, the invisible figure was still contemplating more forceful measures. Merely giving a verbal warning seemed irresponsible. After all, the current predicament arose from his own carelessness.
Tatsumi was right: if not for his sudden idea for Tatsumi to strike up a conversation, none of this would've happened.
He'd originally planned for Tatsumi to gather intelligence at the banquet below deck. But when Shirou stepped outside, he'd spontaneously urged Tatsumi to talk with him instead.
Clearly, Tatsumi had no talent for subtlety.