Chapter 68 A Chance Encounter with a Certain Goddess
In a city shrouded by a massive, inexplicable mystery, Shirou trekked in the opposite direction of the crowds.
Ordinary people bustled about, and the warm current of daily life brushed past as usual. But for Emiya Shirou, the "ordinary" had temporarily come to an end.
Looking closely, Shirou discovered anomalies he hadn't noticed in the previous days—things one would normally never pay attention to. It was like one's own shadow; usually habitually ignored, but once noticed, it grips the attention tight.
The placement of traffic lights, the design of decorative patterns, the layout of buildings. This collection of inorganic objects was arranged like a ritual.
His blood emitted a faint, rolling hiss.
Shirou immediately reinforced his eyes with magical energy, switching to a perspective entirely different from his usual one to stare at the cracks in the mundane. A minute magical effect attempted to invade via the optic nerves, only to be promptly repelled by his magic resistance.
The fact that infrastructure was intermingled with magecraft meant that, unlike Fuyuki or any other city, the "Reverse Side" of Snowfield had been established before the "Front Side." This peaceful appearance was a surface maintained through interference.
What Shirou discovered was likely a harmless suggestion intended to keep people calm, but the scale was too vast; even if he bowed and begged Rin for help, it would be a drop in the bucket. Furthermore, dispelling it wasn't necessarily a good thing; compared to the populace falling into chaos due to ominous signs everywhere, the current situation was indeed more appropriate.
Thus, this only served to make the sheer magnitude of the Holy Grail War's footprint clearer to Shirou.
What exactly did the group running this Holy Grail War think of a city where ordinary people lived?
The Police Department was not the party actually implementing these measures—this was the judgment Shirou made based on the analyzed style of the weapons they used. However, just because they didn't do it didn't mean they didn't know who did.
The conclusion he reached was simple: "Though they didn't do it, they are aware."
If an official institution could participate in the Holy Grail War, it would be a lie to say they weren't acquainted with the organizers who had remodeled the city. Since they were acquainted, there was information about the organizers that Shirou could "borrow."
On that basis, if they weren't in league with the masterminds, they were potential partners for cooperation; if Shirou's judgment was wrong and they were part of the true shadow, he would defeat them on the spot and neutralize them to prevent them from involving ordinary people later.
The final outcome would be decided by the conviction the Police Department displayed when facing Shirou.
"Excuse me, is the Snowfield Police Department straight ahead?"
"Yes, just keep going straight. Do you need help with something?"
"......Actually, I'm planning to discuss a city crisis or something similar."
The passing white-collar worker stayed in place for a moment, looking worriedly at the strange young man who was surely joking, before turning to head to work.
Shirou folded his map, tucked it into his coat pocket, and began the final approach to his destination. Ironically, it was precisely because of this movement that he didn't miss it.
When a flash of impossible silver-white crossed his vision, Shirou halted his step mid-stride. The sensation was like an ice blade suddenly pressed against his heart, causing his gaze to sharpen instantly.
Near the corner was a girl who looked timid and shrinking, walking with downcast eyes and short steps, wearing a ribbon headband in her slightly wavy hair.
Shirou didn't recognize her.
But in front of her—the person she was following—was a head of waist-length hair reflecting a prominent light in the shadows of the buildings. Shirou was more than familiar with it; he had even seen that same hair color from point-blank range last night. Beneath that overly pure silver hair, the woman's eyes as she turned her head sparkled with an eerie vermillion.
—Einzbern.
The word popped into his mind automatically.
Shirou hadn't heard news from the Einzberns in a long time. The rest of the family hadn't proactively sought out Illya either, leaving her in a state of abandonment. Were people from Einzbern appearing in Snowfield as well?
After a moment's thought, Shirou forced himself to stay calm. To confirm the situation more closely, he stepped forward along his original route...
The moment he made a faint sound, the woman's brow furrowed slightly and her gaze shifted. She looked at Shirou across a distance of about a hundred meters.
"Haruri, keep up."
The woman's lips seemed to form those words. The timid girl blindly following her also took a glance at Shirou, looking perplexed, before anxiously picking up her pace to catch up.
Shirou stood still, watching her leave. He wasn't sweating, but he was following his physical instincts; his center of gravity had already been subtly adjusted, maintaining a state where he could draw a blade from the hill of swords at any moment.
Only after confirming the other side had no killing intent and had walked far away did the primal alarm bells in the depths of Shirou's body subside.
In that brief glimpse, the woman's silver hair, seemingly transparent, drifted in the wind. Her crimson eyes, set against her beautiful skin, shone with a brilliance more intense than anything he had ever seen.
However, those eyes lacked warmth. Unlike a certain white "Snow Maiden," hers was a gaze of high-altitude scrutiny.
At the same time, everything churning around her was pure magical energy. A torrent of mana so dense it had lost its color, forming a perfect hemisphere. Since regular geometric shapes are merely a concept, it meant Shirou was seeing a form that did not exist in nature.
Sakura's mana reserves might be larger than what was just released, but Sakura couldn't achieve that level of precision. Illya was the Einzberns' greatest masterpiece, yet even Illya couldn't possibly manage that kind of mana manipulation. It was illogical.
Only Shirou, who had seen both a modern Lesser Grail and a Magus from the Age of Gods simultaneously, could accurately comprehend this power and immediately deduce the correct conclusion.
He didn't know her identity. But one thing was certain... she looked like an Einzbern, but she was not of the Einzbern family. This woman was not someone Shirou could engage with alone right now.
Two choices presented themselves:
I'm too curious; I have to go ask who she is. Now is not the time to meet.
Rin's words from before he left flashed through Shirou's mind. Without anyone accompanying him, the first option was practically unfeasible.
"......Not good."
Tick, tock. An nonexistent clock continued to chime, and until it reached a specific, distant mark, that warning sound would not stop.
In the few seconds he spent considering the consequences of different choices, the white-haired woman vanished from Shirou's sight. She was gone, and he couldn't find her even if he
looked. Without direct contact, Shirou and a "something" that was not human passed each other by, heading toward two different endpoints.
However, Shirou's pace accelerated by a few degrees.
.
..
.
"Um... do you know him?"
As she was led toward the place she heard was the Master's location, the timid girl asked in confusion. The woman smiled easily, responding patiently to the foolish question:
"How could I? Haru, what era do you think I come from? However, he might recognize the affiliation of this 'vessel' I inhabit."
Effortlessly letting her silver hair—the same type Shirou was familiar with—float, the woman continued elegantly and cruelly:
"The karma of dolls has nothing to do with me. After all, if it weren't an empty shell, it wouldn't be possessed by me. More importantly, did you witness what happened just now?"
"Eh?"
Faced with the test-like question, the accompanying girl showed a look of pure bewilderment, knowing nothing.
"The weight of a world's prototype... to think that's something one can see first thing in the morning."
As if to show her good mood, the white-haired woman's pace slowed slightly.
"An interesting man."
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