"Have... have we met before?"
Amakusa asked the question with a polite, measured tone, though the surprise on his face was unmistakable.
CLANG!!
A heartbeat later, he raised his blade to parry a strike from the stranger. Muramasa had closed the distance in an instant, his blade pressing down on Amakusa's with a weight that made the former Ruler strain.
Despite the disadvantage in positioning, Amakusa didn't panic. He focused on the man before him, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed his opponent.
Sengo Muramasa.
He had identified the man's True Name, yet he had no memory of ever encountering him. The sheer intensity of the dislike radiating from the swordsman was as baffling as it was dangerous.
There was only one logical explanation.
"I see. You must have encountered another version of me in a different world," Amakusa said, leaning his weight into the blade to alleviate the pressure.
The Heroic Spirit known as "Amakusa Shirou Tokisada" was not unique to this timeline. Heroic Spirits were merely "emanations" or "clones" of the original existence recorded in the Throne of Heroes. It was entirely possible for a version of him to exist in another reality. And based on Muramasa's attitude, that version of him hadn't exactly been a saint.
"It seems that in this world, you haven't yet descended into the path of demons," Muramasa said, his voice a low growl. "But I still have one question for you."
"Is the corruption of our Archer your doing?!"
Muramasa could sense that the Amakusa before him was currently "pure," lacking the sinister edge of the "Sorcerer Amakusa" he had faced before. But that didn't mean he was innocent of the current situation.
"Corruption?"
"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."
Amakusa was genuinely confused. He parried a final thrust and leaped back, creating some distance between them.
"I'll handle him," Muramasa said, glancing over his shoulder at Artoria and the others. "You three go and find Fujimaru."
"Understood, Saber. We're counting on you."
"Let's go, Rin, Illya."
Artoria didn't hesitate. She immediately led the two girls away, her focus shifting back to the safety of her Master.
Amakusa didn't move to block their path. Instead, he watched Muramasa with a growing curiosity. The [Revelation] that had brought him here was clearly linked to this man.
'Our purpose is to see you...'
'Hah...'
'Who exactly...'
Amakusa recalled the vision of the endless "Starlit Sky" he had seen earlier. He wanted to understand the reach of that blade,who had swung it, and what it had truly touched.
***
BOOM!!
"What exactly are you? What class do you even belong to?"
"You're surprisingly good in a scrap!"
Mordred laughed as she faced the enemy wielding the two strange, curved shortswords.
"I'm just an insignificant Servant," Emiya replied, his voice calm but his focus absolute.
He didn't have the luxury of underestimating a true Heroic Spirit. He narrowed his internal field of vision, tracking every micro-movement of her body and every shift in the air. He treated the fight exactly as he had the encounters with the shadow-clones back in Fuyuki.
"You're quite the modest one, aren't you?"
"But I'm about to start getting serious."
In a flash of light, Mordred's casual clothes were replaced by her heavy armor. She knew that to get answers, she would have to beat them out of him first.
Emiya watched her closely, his mind already formulating a response.
CLANG!
He crossed his blades to catch the first heavy swing of her claymore. The sheer force of the impact drove him back, his feet skidding across the pavement. Mordred followed up instantly, her body wreathed in red lightning. She unleashed a horizontal slash with enough power to cleave a man in two.
"!"
Emiya leaped into the air, his body twisting in an inverted somersault to clear the arc of the blade. He flipped over her head, his movement a blur.
CRACK!
As he descended, he swung both [Kanshou] and [Bakuya] in a scissor-like motion toward her neck. Sparks erupted as the blades bit into her helm.
CLAP!
A shockwave of energy rippled out, but before he even hit the ground, Mordred had already spun around, the weight of her claymore carrying her into a devastating counter-strike.
"[Trace]."
"What?!"
KABOOM!
Emiya managed to project a temporary shield to absorb the brunt of the impact, but the force of the blow still sent him crashing into the side of a nearby building.
Mordred didn't pursue him immediately. She glanced at the shortsword sticking out of her shoulder armor, a look of realization crossing her face.
"This guy..."
She pulled the blade free and tossed it aside, recognizing that her opponent was more than he appeared. That weapon had manifested out of thin air... some form of magecraft?
"As I suspected... that armor isn't something an ordinary weapon can pierce."
Emiya stood up from the rubble, his eyes fixed on Mordred. He was beginning to adjust to her combat style. And more importantly, he had finally remembered her identity. That familiar face... it had to be Artoria's "son," Mordred.
No wonder she looked so much like the King of Knights.
'Her Noble Phantasm...'
The curved blades in his hands dissolved into motes of light. Emiya stared at the claymore in Mordred's grip, his internal world beginning to process its construction.
"?"
Under Mordred's stunned gaze, an identical weapon materialized in Emiya's hands.
[Clarent].
"I see..."
"So that's the nature of your blade."
For Emiya, whose very essence was "Sword," projecting a weapon like this wasn't difficult. Only truly unique or conceptual weapons were beyond his reach. Even for legendary God-forged armaments, he could at least produce a functional "hollow shell."
Now that he had processed Mordred's techniques and the specifics of her Noble Phantasm, he knew how to counter her.
"You bastard!!"
Mordred's eyes widened as she saw him take a high stance, his body wreathed in the same red lightning that flickered around her own sword.
How was it possible? Not only had he copied her sword, but he was preparing to release its True Name? What kind of Servant was he?
She had heard of Heroic Spirits who could steal or mirror an opponent's abilities, but this... this "faker" was creating it from nothing.
"I won't let you mock me!"
"You fake!!!"
Mordred couldn't tolerate such an insult. She was a knight of the Round Table, the only true heir to King Arthur. To face such a challenge without meeting it head-on wasn't in her nature. Her helm split apart, settling on her shoulders as her mana output reached its peak. Red lightning scorched the street for meters in every direction.
The two combatants locked eyes.
"A fake, you say?"
"There's no rule that says a fake can't surpass the original."
Emiya actually smiled. He might not be a "proper" magus in the traditional sense, but when it came to fighting with his projections, his confidence was unshakable. And with Illya as his Master, his parameters had been significantly boosted, exceeding even the peak of his living years.
The red lightning crackled, weaving between them as they both shouted the release command in unison!
"[Clarent Blood Arthur]!!!"
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]