(Beneath his visor, Kuchiba Hiro's pupils constricted slightly, taking in the entire process from Artoria's breakdown of conviction and the dissipation of her armor to her emotional shift. Several guesses flashed through his mind like lightning.
"Invoking a deity? Roleplay? Or some kind of... power system driven by conviction?"
He had originally only been testing the waters based on her absurd words and deeds, attempting to disturb her state of mind, but he hadn't expected the effect to be so significant, directly disarming her.
This allowed him to quickly reach a preliminary conclusion: this girl calling herself Artoria had likely obtained the power of "King Arthur" through some method, but the price was that she had to deeply immerse herself in this role. Her cognition, behavior, and even emotions had to align with that legendary king. She had to fully accept King Arthur's glory and convictions, while also being forced to shoulder all of his tragedies and contradictions. Once her heart could no longer bear those dark historical facts that clashed violently with the "chivalry" she upheld, this state of immersion would be broken, and her power would dissipate along with it.
"Binding cognition to power... what a bizarre and dangerous path." Kuchiba Hiro secretly noted this point. It provided a valuable strategy for dealing with similar ability users he might encounter in the future —attacking the internal contradictions of the role they played might be more effective than a direct physical assault.
His thoughts shifted for only an instant before combat instinct drove Kuchiba Hiro to react. Strike while the iron is hot! His wrist suddenly snapped up, and a cold glint shot out from the wrist of his armor —it was a diamond-shaped dart, aimed straight at the newly unarmored, unsettled, and completely defenseless Artoria!
"Whoosh!"
Almost at the same time, another sound of breaking air rang out! Emiya Shirou's tense nerves had never relaxed; the moment Kuchiba Hiro's shoulder twitched, he had already drawn his bow and notched an arrow! The arrow arrived later but struck first, precisely hitting the dart in mid-air with a crisp "ding." Both flew off at an angle and fell to the ground.
"Artoria!" Emiya Shirou shouted sternly, stepping sideways to stand completely between her and Kuchiba Hiro. He turned his head and spoke quickly to the girl behind him, who was still somewhat lost: "Go inside and rest! Leave this to me!"
Artoria was brought back to her senses by his call. She forcefully wiped away the tears of humiliation belonging to "King Arthur" and took a deep breath. When she looked at Emiya Shirou again, though her eyes still held remnants of confusion and pain, the consciousness belonging to "Artoria" herself seemed much clearer. Her form of address for Emiya Shirou also changed; no longer was it the distant "Emiya," but the familiar: "Shirou..."
Her voice carried a hint of hoarseness after sobbing, filled with self-reproach and guilt. "Sorry... I've held you back again."
Emiya Shirou shook his head, his face showing no trace of blame, only complete acceptance and the resolve of one facing a powerful enemy. He gripped his bow tightly, his gaze sharp as a hawk's, firmly locked onto Kuchiba Hiro.
"It's okay," he responded briefly. "Go."
Artoria nodded, a hint of determination refocusing in her eyes. "Wait for me. I'll adjust and be right back!" Without further hesitation, she turned and ran, quickly disappearing into the shadows of the porch of the villa behind them.
Only the two of them remained on the scene, facing off.
Kuchiba Hiro's gaze fell upon the ready-and-waiting Emiya Shirou. His voice from beneath the visor carried a hint of scrutiny and a marginal willingness to negotiate:
"You seem... a bit more normal. At least you're not a mental patient like her." He paused and threw out a condition. "How about we make a deal? I have over ten thousand gold coins. I can give them all to you. Abandon this mission and leave, how about it? We'll each go our own way."
Emiya Shirou's answer came without the slightest hesitation, categorical and carrying a near-stubborn sense of principle:
"Clean money is hard to earn, and dirty money, I don't want." He looked directly at Kuchiba Hiro's visor, as if he could see the person behind the metal. "Though I know you might have your reasons, your grievances... I cannot stand by and watch you lay hands on innocent people. This is my stance."
"Heh..." Kuchiba Hiro let out an ambiguous cold laugh, his gaze turning completely frigid as the last possibility of negotiation vanished. He rolled his neck, making a slight cracking sound, and the killing intent radiating from his body spread out like something physical.
"I'm afraid you'll have the life to earn the money but not to spend it," he gave his final ultimatum, his voice icy. "Since there's nothing left to talk about... let's see what you're made of. Blades have no eyes; if you die... it's your own fault!"
Emiya Shirou put away his bow and arrows and drew two short swords from behind his waist—one black and one white—with an ancient design and Eastern flair. The blades shimmered with a cold luster as he crossed them before him, taking a combat stance.
The black armor on Kuchiba Hiro's arms began to squirm and liquefy as if it were alive. The viscous black liquid quickly flowed toward his fists, condensing and solidifying at the knuckles to form ferocious, sharp spiked brass knuckles that glinted with an ominous metallic light in the dimness.
He changed his tactics. Intending to utilize his few advantages, he bet that the other couldn't break through his absolute defense.
"Bang!"
The ground beneath his feet sank slightly as Kuchiba Hiro charged forward like a cannonball, using an aggressive running posture that discarded most defensive stances! There were no feints, no probing, only the simplest and most direct straight punch, wrapped in a vicious wind, aimed straight at Emiya Shirou's face!
Emiya Shirou's eyes narrowed. The kanshou and Bakuya he used were double-edged short weapons, best suited for close-quarters grappling and rapid combos. Seeing the opponent being so overconfident as to launch a direct frontal assault, he immediately stepped forward to meet him. The black short sword 'kanshou' in his left hand drew a sharp arc, slashing fiercely toward Kuchiba Hiro's incoming wrist—intending to force him to defend or change his move.
However, in the next instant, something happened that caused Emiya Shirou's pupils to shrink.
Facing this blade capable of cutting through steel, Kuchiba Hiro truly did not dodge or parry! Just as the edge was about to touch his wrist—
"Clang—!"
An ear-splitting explosion of metal clashing against metal rang out! Sparks flew everywhere!
Kuchiba Hiro's arm, along with his entire body, transformed in an instant into an immovable black-gold metal statue! The texture was deep and hard, far exceeding ordinary steel! When kanshou's edge struck it, it was violently bounced back by a massive counter-force!
And this Hardening state lasted for less than half a second. The moment the sword was bounced away, that black-gold luster receded like a tide, and Kuchiba Hiro's body returned to flesh. That heavy punch, which had stalled slightly due to the blocked attack, used the momentum of the charge and the sudden burst from his body's recovery to strike again even more violently, carrying the cold light of the spiked knuckles toward Emiya Shirou's face!
The timing of this instantaneous "Hardening-Release" was handled to perfection, completely exceeding Emiya Shirou's expectations!
"What—!?"
Emiya Shirou was horrified. In the nick of time, he only had enough time to hastily bring the white short sword 'Bakuya' in his right hand across his face to block.
"Thud!!"
A heavy, dull sound echoed, as if striking thick leather. The spikes of the knuckles ground harshly against Bakuya's blade, making a tooth-aching sound. A massive force far beyond expectations was transmitted through the blade; Emiya Shirou felt a violent shock in his arm and his blood surged. He stumbled back several steps uncontrollably, his originally precise footwork instantly becoming slightly disordered.
"Oh no!"
Just as this thought flashed through Emiya Shirou's mind, Kuchiba Hiro's ghost-like figure was already close again!
Seizing this fleeting opportunity, Kuchiba Hiro launched a storm-like pursuit! His fists were like two heavy war hammers, tipped with sharp spikes, pouring down toward Emiya Shirou's head, neck, chest, and abdomen in the crudest and most direct manner!
The wind from his punches whistled, each strike containing the power to shatter stone!
"Clang! Clang! Thud! Bang!"
For a moment, the field was filled with heart-stopping sounds of impact. Sometimes it was the sparks and metallic ring of the short swords barely parrying a fist, and sometimes it was the dull thud of a fist grazing the body or hitting a blocking arm.
Emiya Shirou fell into an extremely passive position. He could only rely on his excellent reaction speed and the afterimages of his dancing twin blades to desperately protect his vital points. His counterattacks weren't non-existent; occasionally finding a gap, kanshou and Bakuya would stab like poisonous snakes toward Kuchiba Hiro's joints, waist, and other seemingly weak points.
But Kuchiba Hiro's fighting style was simply roguish! Whenever a blade was about to hit his body, the corresponding part of his body would instantly undergo local Hardening, turning into indestructible black-gold! The blade would strike it to no avail, instead vibrating Emiya Shirou's wrist until it went numb. Meanwhile, Kuchiba Hiro would use this brief defensive gap to counterattack with even more violent punches!
This was entirely an unequal war of attrition. Every one of Emiya Shirou's parries and dodges consumed a vast amount of physical and mental energy, while Kuchiba Hiro, relying on that near-unsolvable Hardening ability, pressed on step by step, completely suppressing Emiya Shirou and leaving him to struggle bitterly amidst the rampaging shadows of fists, his situation becoming increasingly precarious!)
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