From the moment Tatsumi had delivered the news, Shirou had struggled to contain his rage.
Aside from telling Shirou that his opponent was a ruthless murderer, Tatsumi had shared something else—news that ignited Shirou's fury. Esdeath had massacred the entire Northern Tribes.
Until now, Shirou had known very little about Esdeath's recent actions.
When he returned to the Empire alongside the Three Beasts, he'd heard the common reports of Esdeath's overwhelming victory. At the time, Shirou hadn't paid close attention, dismissing it as typical wartime news.
Soon after, Shirou had accompanied the Three Beasts on their mission by ship, just as Esdeath returned to the Empire, bringing news of her devastating slaughter of the Northern Tribes.
Since then, Shirou had spent most of his time secluded in Night Raid's base.
The massacre had become common gossip in the Empire's streets, so Night Raid hadn't bothered repeating it internally. Had Shirou simply walked through the capital, he would've overheard citizens discussing Esdeath's brutal atrocities.
But when Shirou finally ventured out—to visit the blacksmith—the Empire had shifted its focus to the formation of the new team, the Jaegers, assembled specifically to hunt Night Raid. The massacre faded temporarily from popular discussion.
As a result, Shirou remained unaware of Esdeath's actions against the Northern Tribes—until Tatsumi informed him.
Only then did he finally realize the place he'd awakened—the snowy battlefield—had been littered with countless innocent lives beneath the frost.
Previously, Shirou had felt anger toward Esdeath, but no explicit intent to kill her. There was a clear reason for that.
War is cruel; the choices a commander makes on the battlefield—no matter how harsh—could be rationalized. Shirou was a stranger to this world, with different values. He had no right to impose his ideals upon the reality of war.
Yet he still resented cruelty. People killing one another senselessly was something Shirou refused to accept.
People die when they are killed.
Shirou understood this better than anyone.
Soldiers on either side knew the risk when stepping onto a battlefield. The people of the Northern Tribes had loved ones—but didn't the Empire's soldiers have loved ones as well?
Shirou refused to take sides in war.
Because of this, he previously only felt anger towards Esdeath—not genuine killing intent. War made everyone complicit, in a way. Who was he to decide whether a tactical retreat was simply deception or cowardice? Perhaps Shirou simply didn't see the full picture clearly.
But Esdeath had crossed his absolute limit by slaughtering every single resident of the Northern city—men, women, children, elderly. The massacre of civilians was something Shirou could not forgive.
If Shirou hadn't interfered earlier—had Esdeath simply captured the Northern hero—perhaps she would've grown bored, killed only soldiers, and returned to the capital.
But Shirou's clash had reignited her battlelust. With Shirou unconscious, Esdeath impulsively stormed the Northern Tribes' city, razing everything to the ground.
Not only had hundreds of thousands of Northern soldiers perished, but Esdeath's troops had also eradicated every trace of civilian life.
Though uncertain if Tatsumi's information about his current opponent was entirely accurate, Shirou trusted completely the details about Esdeath.
He had personally walked through that empty city. At the time, he'd sensed something amiss—an eeriness, as though the city held no souls aside from soldiers. Back then, urgency had prevented further reflection; Liver had swiftly pulled him away, leaving no chance to consider carefully.
Now, Shirou finally understood the truth.
Allowing Esdeath's brutality to continue would plunge countless innocents into suffering and death.
"Show me just how much pleasure you'll bring me this time!"
An overwhelming aura erupted between them, blasting outward in waves. Nobles in the stands stared wide-eyed, enthralled.
They were witnessing the Empire's strongest warrior in action firsthand—this spectacle alone justified the cost of entry. Forgetting even their own safety, they leaned forward eagerly, determined not to miss a single breathtaking moment.
Meanwhile, still waiting to fight, Tatsumi watched Shirou confront Esdeath anxiously, sensing disaster. Taking advantage of everyone's distraction, he quietly began backing away.
He needed to rush this information back to Night Raid immediately—without backup, Shirou wouldn't stand a chance.
Thump!
As he turned around, Tatsumi abruptly bumped into someone solid and imposing behind him.
"And just where are you off to?"
A calm, mature voice came from the imposing man dressed in a white lab coat over a brown suit standing behind him.
"Uh—I—I need the bathroom!" Tatsumi stammered nervously, rubbing the back of his head before hastily darting away from the arena.
The man's spectacles glinted sharply in the sunlight as he silently watched Tatsumi retreat, lost in contemplation.
---
The clash of blades lit up the space between Shirou and Esdeath.
Ice-blue flashes met golden-silver lightning.
A fierce, crescent-shaped slash cut through the air without warning, instantly closing in on Shirou Shirou.
Clang!
Their blades collided sharply, the resounding clash echoing loudly, accompanied by showers of dazzling sparks that exploded like fireworks.
Below—right—right—upper left!
Shirou mentally mapped each incoming strike, his reversed-blade katana swiftly intercepting every attack precisely.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Rapid exchanges of blows sent violent shockwaves rippling outward, sparks flying wildly to underscore the intensity of their battle.
Yet any skilled observer could notice a shocking truth:
The Empire's strongest warrior was actually on the defensive.
For the first time, Esdeath felt deeply frustrated.
She had never encountered such a bizarre situation before.
Clearly, whether in speed or strength, she vastly surpassed Shirou Shirou. Yet she experienced an inexplicable sense of being utterly suppressed.
It was as if her every move had already been thoroughly read.
No matter how swift or fierce her attacks, Shirou blocked them effortlessly. Conversely, she could barely handle Shirou's precise counterattacks, forced into a purely defensive posture.
This choking frustration was entirely new to her—like a clogged drain, each attack felt stifled, unable to flow freely. The sensation grated on her nerves, irritating her deeply.
Esdeath's annoyance grew, her heart burning with restless impatience.