"Sorry about this, but I'll need you to take a little nap!"
The invisible man offered Shirou an apology before abruptly disappearing from sight.
Rather than vanishing completely, it was as if the air around him suddenly rippled violently.
A fierce gust surged toward Shirou.
Thunk—!
A hand strike clashed sharply against a solid fist in mid-air.
Even without clearly seeing his opponent, Shirou's extensive combat experience allowed him to anticipate the incoming attack aimed at the back of his neck—standard practice for knocking someone unconscious.
As long as his reflexes and instincts were sharp enough, Shirou could block even an invisible strike.
"Whoa!" the unseen figure exclaimed, impressed.
Shirou had actually managed to parry a strike while he was invisible.
Judging by the strength behind that block, this red-haired youth was far from ordinary.
The invisible man inwardly acknowledged Shirou's skill.
He hadn't expected someone with a slim build similar to Tatsumi's to have such impressive physical strength.
If he could join Night Raid, he'd definitely have as much potential as Tatsumi.
The invisible man silently praised Shirou. Since Night Raid assassinated corrupt officials to protect the people, he held no malice toward Shirou, whom he saw as an ordinary civilian.
"Amazing!" Tatsumi marveled, watching Shirou exchange blows with empty air.
If he hadn't just spoken with him, Tatsumi would have been completely unaware of his invisible companion's presence.
Even Esdeath would have difficulty sensing Incursio's stealth mode if its user had neither hostility nor murderous intent toward her.
Yet Shirou Emiya effortlessly faced off against someone moving at full speed while cloaked, a feat currently far beyond Tatsumi's reach.
The gap between Teigu users and ordinary humans was immense—especially when the Teigu enhanced the entire body.
"There's no need for this. I don't know what you two are doing here, but I won't say anything."
Shirou shook his slightly reddened hand, uncomfortable after clashing directly with someone while unarmed. He was a swordsman at heart—not a boxer.
A melodious flute sound suddenly drifted across the ship, enveloping everyone onboard.
"What's...happening? I feel terrible...!"
Tatsumi clutched his head, staggering drunkenly across the deck, barely keeping himself upright.
"They're making their move!"
Hearing the flute, Shirou immediately realized what was happening.
Though the flute's attack was indiscriminate, it clearly distinguished friend from foe—otherwise, the Three Beasts sitting near Nyau would have needed to cover their ears every time he played.
Without this selective targeting, Nyau's flute would be impractical on a battlefield, akin to Jigglypuff's lullaby knocking everyone out simultaneously.
Nyau's Teigu didn't have that drawback.
"Why aren't you affected?!" Tatsumi demanded, astonished as his limbs gradually lost strength. He stared suspiciously at Shirou, who seemed utterly unaffected.
Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.
Shirou kept this sarcastic retort to himself; voicing it aloud would have made him sound like a villain.
However, according to Shirou's understanding, everyone typically fell unconscious immediately when Nyau played his flute. He'd never witnessed a situation like Tatsumi's.
Could it be Tatsumi's sheer determination keeping him awake?
"Doesn't that flute sound awful? But why does something that sounds so bad make me feel this weak...?"
Tatsumi held onto the railing, struggling to remain standing.
Maybe people with terrible taste in music aren't as severely affected...?
Shirou had accidentally discovered something entirely useless.
At that moment, the flute stopped.
Nyau never bothered completing the melody; once he'd achieved the desired effect, he'd stop playing.
Tatsumi felt his strength slowly returning from his feet upward.
Bang—!
A wooden door burst open nearby. A muscular brute wielding a huge axe strode onto the deck.
"It's time for the mission!"
Daidara called out roughly to Shirou. Though Shirou had effortlessly bested him numerous times, Daidara remained defiant. Consequently, he never bothered showing Shirou respect—and Shirou hardly cared for acknowledgment from a murderous brute like him anyway.
"Mission…?!"
"You're the impostors framing Night Raid!"
Tatsumi instantly jumped away from Shirou, unwilling to believe that the seemingly decent young man in front of him was involved in assassinating loyal ministers.
It was just like when he first met Seryu: outwardly kind and helpful, yet utterly merciless when it came to killing.
Tatsumi reminded himself again—never judge a book by its cover, especially anyone associated with the Empire.
"Oh? So you're from Night Raid?"
Daidara grinned cruelly, fixing his gaze on Tatsumi, who had swiftly distanced himself.
After all, only a Night Raid member or an informant would openly accuse them of impersonating Night Raid. Daidara wasn't surprised Night Raid had caught onto their actions. With so few genuinely loyal officials left, a confrontation had become inevitable.
Daidara abruptly pulled a blade from somewhere, flinging it toward Tatsumi.
"Don't disappoint me!"
A savage grin spread across Daidara's face as he tightened his grip on the massive axe, a wild and violent aura erupting from him.
These days, he'd obsessively killed and trained for a single purpose: To defeat Shirou Emiya.
Being repeatedly overpowered by someone so scrawny was intolerable!
But for now, he'd test out his newly perfected techniques on this Night Raid brat.
With a twisted smile, Daidara stomped heavily, shattering the deck beneath him.
He shot forward like a cannonball, closing the gap instantly.
Daidara had always believed raw power alone could conquer anything.
Then he'd encountered Esdeath—a person whose strength dwarfed his own. Realizing he could never surpass her, he'd chosen to follow her instead.
Convinced that aside from Esdeath, no one except specially gifted Teigu users could match his might, Daidara had grown arrogant.
But Shirou's appearance shattered his confidence. Despite his overwhelming strength, Daidara couldn't even land a hit—what good was power if his attacks couldn't connect?
So, he'd focused on channeling brute strength into pure speed.
This explosive acceleration was the culmination of days spent relentlessly killing and training.
Tatsumi's expression darkened. The incoming attack was too fast; all he could do was raise his sword defensively, knowing dodging was impossible.
Even if he blocked, would his sword withstand such force?
Before Tatsumi could think further, a blur shot in front of him, moving at lightning speed.
"YOU'RE ALWAYS GETTING IN MY WAY—!!"