There was only one day of travel left before they reached the legendary Great Hole.
The sky had turned an ominous dark violet, as though someone had spilled grape juice across the canvas of heaven. This was the Chaotic Wasteland, the region in the Age of Myth where magical power was both densest and most unstable. Here, the laws of physics occasionally went on strike. Gravity sometimes pulled sideways, and even the flow of time could stutter like a lagging network connection.
And yet, across this land so absurd even gods would shake their heads at it, the battered and increasingly ramshackle Argo caravan still stubbornly crawled forward.
"I can't do this anymore… I really can't… I think my soul is leaking out through my mouth…"
Argo hung limply out the carriage window like a puddle of melted sludge, twitching in rhythm with every bump in the road. His face was deathly pale, his eyes vacant, and he kept muttering under his breath.
"Why is this road more intense than a roller coaster…? Did that rock back there just grow legs? I saw it smile at me. It definitely smiled at me!"
"Shut up. If you're carsick, then lie down and stay quiet."
Ona the Amazon sat cross-legged across from him, a massive whetstone in hand as she maintained her battle-axe, Golden Devourer. Though the entire carriage was shaking violently, her hand remained as steady as a mountain.
"If you dare throw up in here, I'll stuff you into that sack full of man-eating flower seeds."
"Ona, that's so cold! Weren't we comrades-in-arms just yesterday, bonded by the shared trauma of our exposed black histories?"
Argo accused her in grief and indignation, clearly hoping to awaken even a sliver of sympathy.
"Don't mention that!"
Ona's hand froze mid-motion. A shower of sparks burst from the axe blade, as though her killing intent had physically materialized.
"If anyone dares say the words 'pink lace dress' again, I'm chopping them in half."
"Wah! Sorry! I've lost my memory! I remember nothing!"
Argo instantly crouched down and covered his head, his speed and proficiency in self-preservation frankly heartbreaking.
At the front, Emiya Shirou let out a helpless sigh and tightened the reins in his hands—or rather, the magical lines. Ever since the "Echo Canyon" incident yesterday, the mood in the party had grown strangely delicate.
Uris the werewolf had wrapped himself tightly in his cloak and stubbornly refused to let anyone see his fluffy tail, terrified that it would remind them of that illusion where he'd wagged it in front of a mirror.
Elmina the dancer, meanwhile, stared at Uris's back with the expression of a lovestruck creep, occasionally letting out eerie little giggles. She clearly had yet to recover from the shock of that overwhelming gap moe.
As for Fianna, the knight captain…
Now, whenever she saw Shirou take out cookies, her face turned as red as a tomato. She would immediately tsundere her head away in feigned disdain, yet her hand moved faster than anyone else's when it came to snatching the treats.
Is this party… really going to be okay? Shirou asked himself for the hundred and first time.
If this were an RPG, then this was definitely the sort of team where everyone had SSR stats, but their personality defects would lead to a total party wipe through sheer absurdity.
"There's something ahead."
Fina the half-elf, who had been scouting from the roof, suddenly leaned down.
"The magical reaction is strong. And… that silhouette looks familiar."
"Familiar?"
Shirou pulled on the reins, bringing the two direwolves to a stop. He activated Clairvoyance: Hawk Eye and looked ahead.
Squatting in the middle of the only road through the wasteland was an enormous creature.
It had the body of a lion, the wings of an eagle, and…
A giant human face.
That face lacked the majesty of legend. Instead, it wore an expression that was hard to describe—something like the bored look of a roadside fortune-teller who hadn't gotten a single customer all day.
"A Sphinx?" Shirou raised a brow. So this classic gatekeeper monster actually existed? And in this era, no less?
"It looks like… it's waiting for us."
Princess Ailia stepped closer, golden eyes bright with curiosity.
"In the old stories, a Sphinx gives a riddle to those who pass by. If they can't answer, it eats them."
"Eats us?!"
Argo, who had just been playing dead, instantly revived—only to instantly hide behind Ona the next moment.
"Then let's just take a detour! I hate riddles! My intelligence is only high enough to figure out how to run away!"
"There is no detour."
Fina jumped down from the roof and smoothed back her windblown silver hair.
"The space in this region is locked. Unless we defeat it or pass its trial, we'll only keep circling back to where we started."
"Then we fight our way through!"
Uris drew the short blade at his waist, his face full of hostility.
"Perfect. I've been wanting something to vent on ever since yesterday's public humiliation."
"Hold it. Don't rush in."
Shirou stopped the violence enthusiasts before things escalated.
"Let's try talking first. We are civilized people. More or less."
The group climbed down from the caravan and approached the giant Sphinx. Up close, it was even larger than they'd imagined. One paw alone was the size of a millstone.
"Well, well. Finally, some living people."
The Sphinx yawned, its huge human face displaying an astonishingly human kind of weary boredom.
"I've been waiting here for three hundred years. Not even a ghost has passed by this dump. The last group I saw was a pack of goblins. They smelled so bad I didn't even have the appetite to eat them."
"You can talk?" Argo asked in surprise.
"What kind of stupid question is that? Of course I can talk. How else am I supposed to give riddles?"
The Sphinx rolled its eyes—if a Sphinx could be said to have whites to roll.
"All right, enough chit-chat. According to the rules, if you want to pass, you must answer my riddles. If you answer correctly, I let you through and give you a little gift. If you answer wrong…"
It licked its lips, revealing a mouth full of sharp fangs.
"Well, I am feeling a little hungry."
"Tch. All this posturing."
Ona rested her axe on her shoulder, utterly unimpressed.
"Bring it on. What I'm best at is solving problems by chopping up the person asking them."
"Easy there, muscle-sis."
The Sphinx actually winked at her, which was a deeply disturbing sight.
"I've got to make a living too, you know. Let's see… there are nine of you. Plus two wolves. So I'll give you three riddles. Answer two correctly, and you pass. Fair, right?"
"Three riddles?"
Shirou frowned. Normally there was only one. Had monsters started embracing quantity-over-quality exam strategies too?
"Then, the first question."
The Sphinx cleared its throat and assumed a serious expression.
"Listen well. What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?"
"..."
The whole group went silent.
"That's way too easy!"
Argo couldn't stop himself from blurting it out.
"Is this a riddle for toddlers? The answer is 'man'! A baby crawls on four limbs, an adult walks on two legs, and an old person uses a cane, making three! That's the most overused riddle in the world! You actually pulled that one out?"
"Your answer… is correct."
Instead of being angry, the Sphinx looked pleased.
"Not bad, not bad. It seems the quality of this year's examinees is decent enough. I thought young people these days only knew how to kill and fight and had forgotten the classics."
"Wait, that's it?"
Everyone had the same feeling, like they'd punched with full force only to hit cotton.
"Don't celebrate yet. That was just the warm-up."
The Sphinx flicked its tail, and its expression became strange.
"Now for the second question."
"What is something you have, and other people have too—but if you give it to someone else, you no longer have it? If you refuse to give it, someone else can still take it from you. And once it's gone, it can never truly be retrieved?"
"This…"
The group fell into deep thought. What kind of philosophical question was this? Money? Life? Chastity?
"Is it… time?" Ailia guessed quietly.
"Wrong."
The Sphinx shook its head.
"Food?" Ona ventured, patting her stomach.
"Also wrong."
"I know! It's your wife!"
Crozzo the smith suddenly shouted.
"If you give your wife to someone else, then you don't have a wife anymore! If you don't give her away, someone else can still steal her! And once you get NTR'd, there's no coming back from that!"
Shirou nearly choked.
Crozzo, what exactly have you gone through in life? Why is your thought process this dangerous?
"Your answer… is wrong."
The Sphinx looked at him like he was an idiot.
"The correct answer is… a secret."
"If you tell your secret to someone else, then it's no longer your secret. If you refuse to tell it, other people can still pry it out of you through various means. For example… something like what happened in Echo Canyon yesterday."
"Hey! That's so unfair!"
Argo jumped up in outrage.
"How is anyone supposed to guess something like that? And you were absolutely taking a shot at us just now! That was definitely a jab at what happened in Echo Canyon!"
"Hmph. That makes one wrong."
The Sphinx flashed a feral grin as its claws scraped against the ground with a grating hiss.
"One to one. If you get the next question wrong… you'd better prepare to become my lunch."
The atmosphere instantly tightened. Everyone gripped their weapons. They were supposedly answering riddles, but by now they were all ready to start fighting at a moment's notice.
"The final question."
The Sphinx fixed its gaze on Emiya Shirou, standing at the front. Its eyes seemed capable of piercing straight through the soul.
"This question is for you specifically, red-haired man from another world."
Shirou froze.
It had noticed?
"The question is…"
The Sphinx's voice suddenly grew deep and solemn.
"What is the sharpest sword in this world?"
"A sword?"
Everyone turned toward Shirou. This was practically a free point. He was the kind of man who could forge divine weapons with his bare hands.
"Is it the Sword of Promised Victory?" Argo whispered helpfully.
"No, it should be that Sword of Rupture that can split open space," Fina analyzed.
"Or our Amazon battle-axes," Ona said with groundless confidence.
Shirou said nothing.
He lowered his head and looked at his platinum-gold right hand.
The sharpest sword…
Was it Ea? Excalibur? The Dōjigiri Muramasa he had recently forged? In purely physical or conceptual terms, those divine weapons certainly qualified.
But…
Looking into the Sphinx's ancient, knowing eyes, Shirou understood that the answer was not any particular weapon.
"Well? Can't answer?"
The Sphinx urged him on, drool nearly dripping from the corners of its mouth.
"If you can't answer, I'll start eating now."
"The sharpest sword…"
Shirou raised his head.
His gaze was clear and unwavering.
He did not draw any weapon. Instead, he raised a single finger and pointed it at his own heart.
"It is conviction," Shirou said calmly.
"No matter what kind of divine weapon it is, if the one wielding it lacks the conviction to match it, then it is nothing more than scrap metal."
"Only a sword swung to protect what one wishes to protect, only a sword raised to follow one's chosen path to the end—that is the sharpest sword of all."
"Because that kind of sword… can even cut through fate."
"..."
The Sphinx went still.
It stared at Shirou for a long time, as if judging whether he was merely saying something pretty.
At last, it suddenly burst into laughter.
"Hahahahaha! Conviction, is it? What an old-fashioned answer… and yet one I can't refute."
It drew back its claws and lowered itself back onto the ground, returning to that lazy, half-asleep pose.
"Your answer… is correct."
"A little melodramatic, perhaps, but in the Age of Myth, that kind of answer is the standard one."
"Whew…"
The whole group breathed out in relief.
They had passed.
"All right, off you go."
The Sphinx waved a paw, and the mist behind it parted, revealing a road leading deeper into the wasteland.
"The road ahead won't be easy. There's a lot of filth gathered around the Great Hole."
"Thank you."
Shirou inclined his head slightly in gratitude.
"Um… what about the gift?"
Argo suddenly poked his head out, rubbing his hands eagerly.
"You said there was a prize for passing!"
"Tch. Greedy little brat."
The Sphinx reached into its mane and casually tossed him… a golden bell.
"Take it. It's the Bell of Awakening. If you ever lose yourselves in an illusion or a nightmare, ring it. It'll help you remember who you are."
"That's all?"
Argo shook the bell with a disappointed look, making it jingle.
"I thought it'd be some kind of divine weapon."
"Don't be ungrateful! That's something that can save our lives!"
Fina smacked him hard on the head.
After bidding farewell to the Sphinx, the group continued onward. The closer they got to the Great Hole, the bleaker the world around them became. The ground turned into black scorched earth, and the sky was swallowed by storm clouds that never seemed to disperse.
Night fell.
The caravan stopped behind an enormous rock to shelter from the wind.
"I'll take first watch tonight," Shirou said.
With practiced ease, he built a campfire and began preparing dinner. No matter how harsh the surroundings, people still had to eat. Tonight's meal was his special Shirou-style Creamy Mushroom Chicken Stew. The rich scent of cream and the savory fragrance of mushrooms barely managed to drive away the oppressive heaviness hanging over the land.
After dinner, everyone turned in early.
Only Argo remained awake, sitting by the fire with the lightning-charged wooden sword in his arms, staring silently into the flames.
"What's wrong? Still thinking about the bell?"
Shirou walked over and handed him a cup of hot tea.
"No."
Argo shook his head.
He looked up at Shirou, his face lit by firelight. Even with his makeup gone, there was still something inherently ridiculous about him.
"Brother Emiya… that answer you gave."
"Conviction… is the sharpest sword."
"Mm."
"But…"
Argo lowered his head, and his voice trembled slightly.
"I don't have anything like that."
"I don't have some grand wish to protect the world. I don't have the resolve to cut through fate."
"I just… want to be famous. I want people to praise me. I want to become… that kind of dazzling hero."
"If that's all I am… then does that mean I'll never have the sharpest sword?"
Shirou looked at the clown sitting before him, lost in self-doubt.
And he thought of a boy from a future story—Bell Cranel, who would step forward even for a complete stranger. That soul, and Argo's now, were astonishingly alike.
"Argo."
Shirou sat beside him.
"Why do you want to be famous?"
"So people won't look down on me. So I can prove that I can do it too."
"Then what would you do if you saw someone in danger?"
"Run away, obviously!" Argo answered with perfect confidence.
But under Shirou's gaze, his voice gradually grew softer.
"But… if I don't save them… that person might die."
"And if that happened… I wouldn't be able to sleep."
"That's enough."
Shirou smiled.
He reached out and ruffled Argo's already messy hair.
"Not wanting to see other people suffer—that too is a kind of conviction."
"And it's a gentler kind of conviction than any grand cause."
"Really?"
Argo looked up, his eyes shining with tears.
"Really."
Shirou pointed at the wooden sword in Argo's hands.
"Do you remember how you got that sword?"
"It was because you dared to raise your blade against the Black King to save me."
"In that moment… the sword in your hand was sharper than any divine weapon."
"..."
Argo froze.
He looked down at the wooden sword as if seeing it properly for the first time.
"So… I can be that too?"
"Of course."
Shirou stood and brushed the dust off himself.
"Stop overthinking it. Go to sleep. Tomorrow… we reach the end."
"And when we do, we'll need you, our captain, leading the charge."
"Leave it to me!"
Argo leapt to his feet at once, all his usual vitality restored. Raising the wooden sword high, he struck a dramatic pose toward the night sky.
"I'm Argo! The future's greatest hero! A finish line like that—I'll blast right through it in one go!"
Watching that ridiculous figure clowning around under the moonlight, Shirou shook his head helplessly.
But he couldn't hide the smile in his eyes.
That idiot…
Might truly be the brightest light in this age of despair.
Meanwhile, less than ten kilometers away—
At the edge of the Great Hole.
The mysterious man in black robes stood at the mouth of the abyss, a thick book in his hands. Behind him, countless black shadows writhed and gathered, forming a terrifying army.
"So you've finally come… variable from another world."
The robed man closed the book, revealing beneath his mask a pair of crimson eyes.
"The stage has already been set."
"The final trial… and the final despair."
"Show me, Emiya Shirou."
"When your 'conviction' faces absolute 'void'…"
"Will it still be able… to cut through the chains of fate?"
Boom.
From deep within the Great Hole came a muffled sound, heavy and rhythmic like the beating of a gigantic heart.
The Primordial Stirring, which had slept for tens of millions of years…
had awakened.
The final battle of the Age of Myth
was about to begin.
....
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