The Sword-Forging Heroic Spirit, Shirou
The black-clad man, Perseus, appeared in a plaza near the sports center. Instantly, the area was isolated from the real world, sealed off into a separate dimension.
He had come to this wide, open place deliberately—to create the perfect battlefield.
He would lure Emiya here… and cut off his head.
Behind him, in the massive void, a terrifying creature emerged—wrapped in black sludge. It had enormous black wings, and its upper body resembled a towering, bewitching woman, but from its lower spine extended a long, serpentine tail, slithering across the ground.
Its long black hair split into several serpentine heads, each with gaping fanged mouths and deep purple scales, and glowing crimson eyes that had lost all reason. It was a terrifying magical beast driven purely by destruction.
"Gorgon! Enact your revenge here! Let Emiya die in despair!" Perseus roared.
This was Gorgon, the most powerful beast Perseus had ever summoned through the Holy Grail.
Once regarded as a mother or goddess to magical beasts, she had now devolved into a mindless monster.
By legend, Perseus should never have been able to control such a being—after all, they were mortal enemies. But in myth, Perseus had wielded the head of Gorgon many times, using its petrifying power to turn giants and foes into stone. Because of that legend, he was able to summon a fragment of Gorgon's Spirit Origin.
But this massive beast wasn't the real Gorgon—it was a twisted imitation, forcibly created by the Grail using a portion of her Spirit Origin. While it retained immense destructive power, it was degraded in several aspects.
From within the beast's nest, the air filled with unceasing monstrous howls—Perseus had been raising magical beasts inside Gorgon's domain, and now, he was ready to unleash them in a final assault.
"Haaahhh! I'll destroy Emiya's world of hope, just like he destroyed our glory! Let him repent in the underworld!" Perseus let out a mad, deranged laugh.
"ROOAAAR!" The enormous monster Gorgon spread her black wings and let out a thunderous roar. Her crimson eyes glowed with madness. She summoned a vast beast's den—her Noble Phantasm, Pandemonium Cetus (Temple of All Demons).
"Break the barrier! Establish this temple in the real world! Devour! Slaughter! Then annihilate everything!" Perseus bellowed.
Hordes upon hordes of magical beasts screamed and howled, clawing at the walls of reality to tear through and unleash destruction.
"We're not letting you get away with this." Just then, the group of youths arrived.
"I'll leave the monsters to you guys. That man's mine." Shirou spoke to his companions, then turned toward the corrupted Heroic Spirit. No… he could no longer be called the hero of legend—he was something entirely different now.
"If he's evil… then I'll cut him down." Shirou's eyes turned cold.
This was the most vile, most wicked enemy yet. For his family, for his friends, and for this world, Shirou would eliminate him—no matter the reason, this monster had to be stopped.
At that moment, a Spirit Origin connected to Chaldea through the Grail was summoned into Shirou's world.
In the system interface, a pure-white card began to change. Lightning surged around its border as it transformed into a golden knight, standing tall with a sword held vertically before his chest.
A brilliant white light engulfed Shirou.
Within his inner world, under the transformation granted by the Holy Grail, a new evolution began to take shape.
His training had become more skilled. His resolve was firmer. This time, the transformation was even more complete.
His eyes opened with Mystic Eyes active, revealing their amber glow. His upper body was shirtless, muscular, his hair turned crimson, and he wore a white cape.
His left arm was wrapped in red sacred burial cloth, and in his right hand, he held a finely crafted katana.
This was a divine weapon—a failure, perhaps—but one born from a lifetime of forging tens of thousands of blades, ultimately transcending ordinary weaponry.
When wielding [Domokari Muramasa], The experiences of a certain swordsmith—who in another world reached divine mastery in the art of forging—flowed into Shirou's mind.
That smith had forged all types of weapons throughout his life, knowing every strength and flaw of every form. Naturally, he also mastered the techniques to wield them.
Shirou's amber Mystic Eyes bore witness to this man's life— A youth born into a family of swordsmiths, gifted with unmatched talent and a heart of justice.
This young man endured the cruelty of the world. He saved others and was saved in turn. To prevent people from being killed, he had to kill some himself. And yet… he could never save everyone.
So, he poured his wish into the only thing he was good at—forging. He forged endlessly, hoping that one day, he might create a divine sword capable of saving all mankind.
As this swordsmith mastered every weapon—knowing every detail, technique, and principle— He gradually became a martial arts master of all weapons, not just a craftsman.
But… it still wasn't enough. He never found the blade in his heart.
People age. Even the strongest bodies decay. Souls rot with time. Evil grows like wildfire that can never be stamped out.
Through his Mystic Eyes, Shirou saw that young man's lonely silhouette— A youth, then a noble young adult, then a respected elder— Spending countless years swinging his hammer, forging day and night.
He wasn't just tempering steel—he was tempering his heart.
When ideals and reality drift ever farther apart… What should you do?
Swing the hammer, forge the conviction to save all life into iron.
What should you do?
Pump the bellows, infuse the flames with the thoughts of salvation.
What should you do?
Quench and temper, pour your entire life into the blade.
This blade is forged for all living things.
The Mystic Eyes recorded this man's entire life, And all his experiences and ideals were merged into Shirou's Spirit Origin.
Now, the red-haired Heroic Spirit Shirou stood tall, his determined gaze fixed on the black-clad man.
"Devour him!" Perseus yanked his reins, commanding the magical beasts to charge. They roared and lunged at Shirou.
Shirou raised his katana in one hand, and in the other, projected a giant axe-blade.
Though it was called an axe-sword, it was more like a weapon-shaped chunk of stone—massive and brutal.
He spun, unleashing inhuman strength, and smashed the charging magical beasts away.
His technique was swift and violent, overwhelming and unstoppable. It was the secret skill of the great hero Heracles, born of countless battles: "Nine Lives Blade Works" — A technique that maximizes a weapon's power, adapting its form and force depending on the target— Whether against individuals, armies, or even to destroy fortresses.
As Shirou projected the Noble Phantasm, he also copied Heracles' skills, experience, and monstrous strength. A pack of beasts like this posed no threat.
Shirou turned to the black-clad man and smiled:
"They say you've got a lot of Noble Phantasms. I'm pretty good with those myself."
"DIE!" Perseus's bloodshot eyes were full of madness. He raised his scythe-shaped sword and slashed down.
"You're a lost soul, forsaken by your own heart. Let me grant you release." Shirou swung his axe-sword once more.
It carried the force of ten thousand tons, and with the swing, it created a powerful wind blast, slicing through the air with a howl.