Rivira's nights were never quiet.
Even inside an inn, you could still hear drunken shouting outside—mixed with the distant, feral cries of beasts somewhere in the underground "paradise."
On a crude wooden bed, Emiya Shirou sat cross-legged with his eyes closed.
He wasn't asleep.
Inside him, twenty-seven Magic Circuits turned slowly, cycling again and again—tempering his mana like steel being folded and reforged.
"…Haa."
On the neighboring bed, Lili hugged her pillow and slept like a rock, drool at the corner of her mouth—clearly dreaming of gold coins and fried potato balls.
Then—
Shirou's eyelid twitched.
Mind's Eye (True).
An alarm exploded in his head with no warning.
No killing intent.
No footsteps.
Only a faint, unnatural ripple in the air—an almost imperceptible flow of mana that shouldn't have been there.
"…A barrier?"
Shirou opened his eyes.
The air in the room had become sticky and heavy, as if coated in invisible glue.
Sound vanished—as though the entire room had been wrapped in cotton.
A Silencing Barrier—the kind used for assassination and kidnapping. A cage that swallowed screams.
"So someone doesn't want us seeing tomorrow's sun."
Shirou moved off the bed without making a sound.
He crossed to Lili's bedside and gently shook her shoulder.
"Lili. Wake up."
"Mmm… potato balls… one more…"
"Stop eating in your dream," Shirou muttered. "We have guests."
Lili's eyes snapped open—just in time for Shirou's palm to cover her mouth before she could scream.
He leaned close and whispered into her ear.
"Get under the bed. Don't come out no matter what happens. That's an order."
In the darkness, his amber eyes held an icy, lethal calm.
Lili understood instantly.
No questions. No whining.
She nodded hard, clutched her repeating hand crossbow, and slid under the bed.
The next instant—
BOOM!
The inn's wooden wall was violently blown apart.
Dust and splinters erupted into the room as five black silhouettes surged in like ghosts.
"Move fast!" the leader hissed. "Take the red-haired brat! If he doesn't resist, break his limbs—just keep him breathing!"
They were elite capture agents of the Dark Faction—all Level 2.
Bringing a full squad of Lv.2 to grab a "Lv.1 rookie" was absurd.
Overkill.
But—
"Trace—On."
A flat, emotionless voice cut through the swirling dust.
"What—?!"
The frontmost attacker didn't even finish turning his head.
A black-and-white flash split the smoke.
SPLASH!
Blood sprayed.
A deep wound opened across his chest—bone visible—before his body was flung backward, smashing into the men behind him.
"What the hell?!" the captain barked, stunned. "He was supposed to be asleep! Was the intel wrong?!"
The dust thinned.
Shirou stood in the center of the room, twin blades in hand—Kanshou and Bakuya, the paired swords gleaming like predatory fangs.
He wore his signature red-and-white outfit—light armor disguised as casual clothing.
And his eyes…
…were the eyes of someone looking at corpses that hadn't fallen yet.
"Breaking limbs in the middle of the night," Shirou said quietly.
"That's extremely rude."
He tilted his head.
"And this is what you call 'break'? Your force is too light."
"Arrogant little bastard!"
The captain roared, drawing his longsword.
"Together! Leave him alive—one breath is enough! I don't care how talented he is, a Lv.1 can't—"
Four Lv.2 killers attacked at once.
Longsword. Dagger. Spiked flail.
A coordinated kill-box—locking all angles of escape.
A normal Level 1—even one with absurd stats—would die here.
But Emiya Shirou wasn't "normal."
He was a veteran forged through countless battlefields.
"Steel is my body."
A hum.
Emerald circuits blazed across his skin—reinforcement flooding muscle, bone, and tendon until his very concept hardened into metal.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Shirou didn't retreat.
He advanced.
Kanshou caught the longsword head-on.
Bakuya locked the dagger from the flank.
And the spiked flail that smashed toward his spine—
THUD!
He took it with his back.
Reinforcement absorbed the impact; a blow that could pulverize rock only made him stumble half a step forward.
"This level of attack," Shirou said, voice cold, "can't even tear my skin."
He used that half-step—turned on a dime—and drove a spinning kick into the flail user's face.
CRACK.
A neck snapped.
The man collapsed without even managing a scream.
"M-Monster…!"
The remaining three panicked.
Taking a Lv.2 heavy strike head-on and shrugging it off—what kind of defense was that?!
"Retreat!" the captain shouted instantly. "Intel is catastrophically wrong! He's not Lv.1!"
He threw a smoke bomb, trying to vanish into the barrier's muffled darkness.
"…You think you can come and go as you please?"
Shirou's twin blades dissolved into light.
In their place—an obsidian-black bow formed in his hands.
His voice dropped, steady as a ritual.
"I am the bone of my sword…"
Mana gathered.
Even inside smoke, even inside silence—
Mind's Eye (True) pinned every heartbeat, every shift of weight, every breath.
"Broken Phantasm—Caladbolg. Triple."
Three spiral mana arrows launched—
SHHHK! SHHHK! SHHHK!
They tore through the smoke like guided missiles, chasing the fleeing men as if the arrows had eyes.
BOOOOM!!
Explosions rocked Rivira's street outside.
Fire surged upward, briefly turning night into day.
When the smoke cleared, only three charred craters remained.
Inside them—three attackers, sprawled and unmoving, their fate unclear.
The entire battle—from breach to silence—lasted under a minute.
"…Haa."
Shirou lowered the bow.
That burst had consumed a massive amount of mana—nearly draining him dry.
"L-Lord Emiya…"
Lili crawled out from under the bed, trembling.
She stared at the wreckage outside, her jaw practically falling off.
"Y-You… wiped them all out?"
"More or less," Shirou said.
"But the one observing us earlier probably got away."
His gaze slid toward the darkness.
Mind's Eye had felt it—during the chaos, an unfamiliar presence had pulled back and fled.
The masked watcher from the tavern.
"Forget it. Don't chase a cornered rat," Shirou said, turning to pack.
"This place isn't safe anymore."
"Lili. We're heading back to the surface. Tonight."
"Y-Yes!"
The Next Morning — The Twilight Manor
When Shirou and Lili returned to their familia headquarters, both reeking of smoke and blood, they ran straight into Loki, who'd just rolled out of bed.
"Oy, you're back early—"
She sniffed, eyes narrowing.
"What's with the bloodstink? Did you two go work at a slaughterhouse?"
"We ran into trouble."
Shirou gave her a brief account of the night—leaving out the details of his sensory perception and simply claiming they "noticed something was off."
"…The Dark Faction."
A savage red glint flashed through Loki's eyes—violent enough to make the air feel sharp.
"Those sewer rats dared reach into my familia."
Then, like a switch flipped, she returned to her usual grin—far too cheerful for what she'd just implied.
"Fine. Since you didn't come back missing limbs, we'll settle that score later."
"Right now…"
She grabbed Shirou's wrist with both hands like she'd just found a priceless artifact.
"Come on, come on! My room! I'm checking your Status!"
"After a night like that, your 'vessel' has to be overflowing!"
The Goddess's Room
Shirou lay face-down on the couch.
Loki's fingers traced across his back, reading the divine script.
Then—
"Hahahahaha! YES! YES!"
Loki burst into manic laughter.
"SSS! All of them are SSS!"
"And you even broke past that legendary threshold!"
She slapped a freshly imprinted sheet of parchment down in front of him.
Name: Emiya Shirou
Level: 1
Abilities:
Strength: SSS (1350)
Endurance: SSS (1400)
Dexterity: SSS (1280)
Agility: SSS (1300)
Magic: SSS (1450)
Every stat beyond 1200—Magic nearing 1500, a theoretical limit that shouldn't exist.
A "strongest Lv.1" record unseen in Orario for a thousand years.
"You've got enough accumulated," Loki said, inhaling slowly to calm herself.
"No—too much. It's overflowing."
"Defeating that Lv.2 squad counts as a Great Feat."
She grinned, eyes blazing.
"Emiya. Ready?"
"Ready for what?"
"To step into a new realm, idiot!"
Loki bit her finger, and a bead of divine blood—carrying a sliver of godhood—fell onto Shirou's back.
"Rank Up!"
WHOOOOM—!!
A heatwave tore through Shirou's entire body.
It wasn't just muscle changing.
It was the soul.
Chains shattered.
A vessel expanded.
The very "tier" of life was rewritten.
His vision sharpened.
His circuits widened like rivers carving deeper beds.
Even those stubborn, half-fused memories within him—those foreign fragments—felt smoother, closer, more aligned.
Level Up Successful.
Level: 1 → 2
And then—
A new set of options appeared, born from his excessive mana and constant projection and forging.
Development Ability (Choose One):
A. Mage (raises Magic; amplifies spell effects)
B. Blacksmith (improves weapon creation quality)
C. Quick Heal (faster mana recovery)
"…Three options?" Loki muttered, rubbing her chin. "Normally you only get one."
She squinted at him.
"Your magic burns mana like a bonfire. Mage and Quick Heal both fit."
"As for Blacksmith…"
She smirked.
"You already forge ridiculous gear without a skill, don't you?"
"Mage."
Shirou didn't hesitate.
For Emiya Shirou, mana quantity and quality defined the scale of Unlimited Blade Works.
"Alright! Mage confirmed!"
The divine script shifted again.
Name: Emiya Shirou
Level: 2
Abilities: (Reset upon level-up; prior values become hidden bonuses)
Strength: I (0)
Endurance: I (0)
Dexterity: I (0)
Agility: I (0)
Magic: I (0)
Development Ability:Mage (I)
Magic:
Unlimited Blade Works — Unlock Level Increased
Mid-scale deployment available (expanded sword-rain coverage)
Skills:
New: Mind's Eye — False (B)
Not only pierces present openings, but instinctively evades future danger
Completing the "Mind's Eye" system
"…Haa."
Shirou dressed and clenched his fist.
His numbers were reset.
But it was the reset of Level 2.
Even his baseline physical performance now dwarfed what he'd had yesterday.
"So?" Loki asked, grin wide. "How's the world of Level 2?"
Shirou smiled—confident, clean, and sharp.
"It feels… great."
"Now I can cook you an even better feast, Loki."
"YES!" Loki cheered. "I want that thing—'sukiyaki'!"
Then her eyes turned sly, mischief bubbling up like poison in wine.
"By the way, Emiya…"
"Now that you've leveled up…"
"You're going to get famous."
"Famous?"
"Yep." Loki pointed out the window, toward the sky.
"In a few days, it's Denatus—the Gods' Assembly."
"And by tradition, every adventurer who levels up gets an Alias."
"…An alias."
A bad feeling crawled up Shirou's spine.
In this world, many aliases were…
…questionable.
"Hehehe. Don't worry!" Loki patted her chest proudly.
"I'll fight for a really loud, unforgettable name!"
She leaned in, eyes shining with wicked joy.
"How about 'Red-Haired Housewife'? Or 'Infinite Smith'?"
Shirou sighed, already calculating whether bribing his unreliable goddess with food would help.
"…Please. Pick something normal."
But no matter what the name would be—
He had stepped onto the staircase of power.
Level 2…
This was only the beginning.
-------
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