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Rudra tilted his head slightly, his golden irises narrowing sharply as if he had found a new toy. He didn't even wait for Shirou to open his mouth when his deep voice preceded everything.
"Shirou..." he savored the name, as if tasting something foreign yet intriguing. "You're the brat who wrecked those Thanatos members, right?"
Those words made Ryuu jolt.
Thanatos—a name even considered foul and rancid among Evilus. One of the Evilus gods who survived the tragedy.
Rudra instead let out a long chuckle, slapping his forehead as if he had heard a clever joke. "Hah! That's Thanatos for you. It's unusual for him to babble about an 'unpredictable brat' who destroyed his scouting flower. I should have been suspicious from the start."
He moved his finger, drawing a small circle in the air as if pointing at someone he had already assessed.
Then, in a tone that was either praising or belittling, he said:
"Shirou Emiya... of Loki Familia,"
Rudra uttered the name like a conclusion. Not a question. Not a guess.
Shirou raised an eyebrow slightly, his tone flat yet clearly laced with subtle sarcasm. "Wow... I'm flattered. Even a god of your caliber knows my name."
Rudra wasn't offended—instead, he seemed even more intrigued. He leaned forward, as if gazing at a rare phenomenon. "Oh, relax. I'm genuinely curious. Your unique power." He pointed at Shirou without hesitation. "The swords that appear from thin air... the magic swords you create yourself. No materials, just manifesting with magical energy. Very interesting."
Shirou remained silent.
His expression was calm, but Ryuu knew full well that Shirou's silence meant he was holding himself back from being provoked.
But Rudra didn't stop.
"And you... It seems you leveled up before coming to Orario, didn't you?" Rudra's eyes narrowed, as if reading invisible data. "That's impossible for ordinary people. So where did you come from, brat? Telskyura? Impossible, that's just a bunch of bloodthirsty amazons." He stroked his chin.
"Perhaps the School District? Or Altena? But there are no reports of a red-haired teenager with abnormal talent. Not even gossip... Strange."
Rudra looked genuinely thoughtful, as if each possibility was a personally enjoyable puzzle.
Ryuu took half a step forward, standing slightly in front of Shirou. There was tension in her posture, but her gaze remained cold and piercing.
"Enough. That's none of your business... Rudra."
The elf's characteristic gentle tone had now turned to steel. A protective attitude—which even Shirou himself hadn't expected—was clearly visible.
Rudra shifted his gaze from Shirou to Ryuu—sharp yet still with that almost mocking, relaxed smile.
"Gale Wind~ It's been a while. How are you?"
His tone was light, as if greeting an old acquaintance at a bar, not the slaughterer of his Familia's members. "Has your grudge been satisfied, hm?"
Ryuu stared at him fearlessly, her voice cold enough to slap the air. "You don't need to know. And I don't need your approval."
Rudra chuckled softly, hahaha~, as if hearing a joke. "Still as fierce as ever. But tell me... what about my offer back then? Join my familia. Your eyes are so fitting to be mine—dark, full of hatred."
He narrowed his eyes, then glanced at Shirou from the corner of his eye.
"Although... it seems that flame of hatred has started to dim. Because of that brat, right?"
Ryuu let out a low growl. "I'm not interested."
"Is that so?" Rudra shrugged, then turned his face back to Shirou. "Then... how about you?"
He pointed at Shirou casually. "A kid as strange as you, such a unique power... It's a shame to use it for playing it safe. Want to join? I guarantee an experience more 'interesting' than killing monsters every day."
Shirou was stunned for a moment. Not because the offer was difficult—but because of its absurdity.
Corpses were strewn about, the stench of blood was pungent, shattered ice and monster ashes were still smoldering... and this god was offering recruitment as if looking for club members.
Shirou let out a small sigh, his chest feeling heavy.
And finally, he voiced the question that had filled his mind from the beginning.
"...Why?"
Shirou stared straight into the god's eyes. "What's the reason for all this? Why let them commit all those atrocities? For what?"
The air in the cave suddenly fell silent, as if the surrounding stones were also holding their breath.
Rudra smiled as if Shirou's question was the most trivial thing in the world.
"Of course, to relieve boredom," he answered casually, without even a moment's thought.
"If all gods and goddesses only supported heroes and good people... the world would be boring, monotonous. Someone has to take on the role of the villain to keep the story moving."
Those words made Ryuu's blood boil.
She took half a step forward, her voice choked with anger. "Your role-playing... caused my friends to die."
"Hmm?" Rudra tilted his head. "Isn't that precisely why they died as heroes?" He smiled as if teaching a child. "They sacrificed themselves to save you. Their souls ascended as holy spirits—and will later be reincarnated by the gods. A beautiful ending."
Ryuu almost exploded—Shirou could feel the air around the elf vibrating with rage.
Shirou exhaled slowly.
He began to understand the thought pattern of that ageless being... understood a little, but that didn't mean he accepted it.
"Is that also why you gave them your blessing?" Shirou pointed at the scattered bodies—the members of Rudra Familia they had just slaughtered. "Even though they... were full of evil."
Rudra chuckled softly. "Because that's what makes them interesting. They are damaged souls who only feel alive when hurting others. Those types—broken souls—are unique entertainment for me. So I gave them my blessing, I let them do what they liked... and I watched the results of their chaos. They make good villains in a story."
Then he glanced at Ryuu.
His smile grew thinner, more piercing.
"And you, Gale Wind... you almost joined the broken." Rudra's finger stretched out, pointing directly at Ryuu's chest.
"But it seems someone started fixing your pieces."
Ryuu fell silent.
Her lips pressed tightly together because Rudra's words hit too close to the truth. She had almost plunged into darkness after the Astraea Familia tragedy... if not for one person who held her back—Syr. That memory made her chest tighten slightly, but she still restrained herself.
Rudra didn't stop talking.
"Seems giving blessings to small-time villains is getting boring too..." the god murmured while kicking one of the corpses near his feet. Thud. "I even prepared a secret plan... but well, they turned out to be too weak. Useless. So it didn't finish."
Shirou narrowed his eyes.
"Secret plan?"
Rudra didn't answer. Didn't care. Instead, he continued his monologue with relaxed, small steps. "Maybe I should look for something more interesting..."
He turned his body, looking at both of them. "An anti-hero, for example. Much more fun than choosing boring holy heroes, or low-life villains who die quickly." He pretended to think hard, his fingers resting on his chin. "Hmm... where could I find one..."
Then his golden eyes narrowed.
Slowly, he pointed a finger at Ryuu.
"Ah. Perhaps a tragedy victim like you."
Ryuu clenched her fist, her breath becoming audible.
Shirou could see how the anger she had been controlling since the start of the conversation was beginning to overflow.
Just as Ryuu was about to retort, Shirou stepped forward, his loud voice cutting through the cave air.
"Enough!"
The voice echoed, firm and determined.
Shirou stood straight at the cave entrance, his body forming a solid line blocking the only way out. The cold night air blew in from outside, but inside the cave, it felt warm with tension.
"I won't let you leave," he said softly yet firmly.
Rudra stopped in his tracks.
The god's eyebrow raised slightly in curiosity. "Oh?" he murmured, as if he had just found a new game.
Ryuu immediately tensed up.
"Shirou... you..."
She hated Rudra with all her soul; yet what they were facing was an eternal entity. And Shirou—no matter how strong—was only a mortal.
"Don't be reckless," Ryuu whispered quickly, stepping closer. "He's a god. You can't possibly—"
Rudra interrupted with a light laugh.
"Listen to that, brat. Your friend is even more sane than you."
But Shirou didn't move.
His gaze didn't waver in the slightest.
"I know I can't pry information from you," he said to Rudra. "And I know facing a god alone... is impossible for me."
The sound of Rudra's footsteps stopped completely.
For just a moment, the god's eyes narrowed slightly. He began to understand Shirou's direction.
Shirou took a breath, then shouted:
"RYUU! RUN AND GET LOKI AT TWILIGHT MANOR! I'LL HOLD HIM OFF!"
The shout echoed off the cave walls like an explosion.
Ryuu was shocked. Her breath caught. "Shirou!? You—"
Rudra slowly turned his head towards Ryuu, a thin, sneering smile on his face.
The game had just begun.
Ryuu should have immediately turned and run as Shirou commanded—she knew that.
But her body was frozen, filled with shock. Is Shirou really planning to face a god alone?
That momentary hesitation was enough.
Rudra stepped forward, his relaxed smile disappearing.
In a blink, the color of the god's hair faded to golden, like embers swept by the wind. Rudra's eyes glowed yellow, reflecting a fierce light like the eye of a desert storm.
And the air... vibrated.
"—Ryuu, RUN!!!"
Too late.
WWHHOOOSHH—
Wind swirled around Rudra, forming a small vortex that sucked in the cave air, making the torches flicker wildly. The scent struck Shirou's senses immediately: a divine storm—a mix of electricity, scorched dust, and something no mortal could ever possess.
Divinity.
Rudra slowly raised one hand, as if calling a dog.
"Kneel!"
The word wasn't loud. It didn't roar.
But it shook the soul, not the eardrums.
BRAK!
Both of Shirou's knees hit the ground. He had no choice; his body felt as if it were being pulled down by thousands of invisible hands. His muscles tensed, his spine shuddered under the pressure.
Ryuu also let out a choked scream, her body slumping to the ground beside Shirou. Her breath came in gasps, her eyes wide open, resisting the forced submission.
"Gh—! No...!"
Ryuu tried to lift her face, but her head was pressed down as if a giant palm was crushing it.
Shirou felt the same.
Not wind. Not physical force.
This was a divine command.
The Divine Will of the god Rudra—a spiritual pressure forcing all mortals to submit.
Rudra slowly lowered his hand, letting the small storm continue to swirl around his feet. He looked at Shirou and Ryuu like two disobedient children daring to challenge an adult.
"I have to admit, brat," he said with a thin smirk, "your recklessness is impressive. If Loki really wanted to send me back to Tenkai, she should have come down the mountain with you from the start."
He glanced slightly towards Ryuu, who was still forced to kneel. "But seeing you two here... seems facing me wasn't part of the plan, was it?"
Ryuu gritted her teeth hard—krkk—her eyes filled with anger, but her body couldn't rise.
Shirou tried to move—just a little.
He tried to take a breath, lower his consciousness into his body, and attempt to summon prana for Projection. But...
...as if all the energy in his body was bound.
Not a single one of his circuits would activate.
In his heart, he cursed:
Divine will... suppresses everything. Even magecraft is difficult.
"What will you do...?" Shirou finally asked, his voice choked by the pressure.
Rudra raised an eyebrow, then chuckled softly. "What else? Run from here, of course." He flicked his hand, as if telling the two small creatures to disappear from his sight. "You've entertained me enough tonight. I'll find another stage... and new people to continue my plan."
Shirou tensed. Ryuu tried to force herself to stand up—failed.
Rudra turned, his steps casual, as if leaving a feast with a full stomach. He walked towards the cave entrance, the dim light from outside casting his shadow.
As he passed by Shirou's side, the god didn't even glance at him—as if Shirou were just a small stone on the path. The divine wind swirling around Rudra swept through Shirou's hair, cold and hot at once, carrying the piercing scent of the storm.
Shirou could only stare, his teeth clenched hard. He wanted to grab the man. Wanted to stop him. Wanted to halt everything. But his body remained frozen on the ground.
Rudra passed Shirou slowly... step by step... and almost reached the threshold of the cave entrance.
Could he really let that being go...?
The question hammered in Shirou's head over and over, harder than the divine pressure that kept his body immobilized.
How much more blood will be spilled because of him...?
How many more people like Jura will he bless, then let roam free?
How many more tragedies like the Astraea Familia will be repeated...?
The image of Jura's sneering face, the dirty hands that had used that knife to torture, emerged together with the last memories of Alise, Kaguya, Lyra...
And the figure of Ryuu, kneeling beside him, groaning in pain.
Shirou blinked.
His blood boiled.
Without thinking of the risk, without thinking of logic—With his body still forced to kneel by divine will, Shirou forced both his hands to move.
GRAB.
He grabbed Rudra's right ankle with all his strength, his fingers gripping hard as if trying to crush the god's bone.
Rudra stopped walking.
"...???"
The god looked down, as if unable to believe a human forced to kneel dared to touch him—more than that, dared to grasp him.
"Let go."
The voice dropped to a cold command.
Shirou didn't answer.
He only tightened his grip until his fingers turned white.
Rudra clicked his tongue, then lifted his foot slightly—
CRACK! His heel struck the back of Shirou's hand. Pain immediately shot through, sharp, hot, as if his bones were about to crack.
But Shirou still didn't let go.
His breath was ragged, but his eyes didn't waver. "I... won't... let you go..."
Rudra looked at him as if looking at a stubborn small animal. Then he laughed—a short, annoyed, yet amused laugh.
"Fine, if that's what you want."
He took another step, as if trying to walk away just like that.
Shirou was dragged.
His forced kneeling body was dragged across the stone floor—skrsshhh—skrkkk—his arms, knees, and shoulders scraped roughly.
But he still gripped Rudra's leg, the only small obstacle trying to hinder a god's steps.
Rudra walked while dragging Shirou like dragging a cloth stuck to his shoe.
Ryuu, still kneeling, could only watch with wide eyes—between disbelief, horror, and... a pride she didn't dare admit.
And Shirou, though dragged, though his hand was stepped on, still groaned loudly:
"I... won't let you... leave...!"
Rudra stopped dragging Shirou when he saw how stubbornly the brat was still gripping his ankle. He snorted in amusement.
"So... what is your goal exactly, hm?" Rudra bent down slightly, his voice full of sweet mockery. "Hold me until your goddess arrives? In a remote cave like this? Do you think Loki can see you from here?"
Shirou didn't answer. His jaw tightened, his breath trembled, but his fingers still gripped Rudra's leg as if it were the last rope holding the world from destruction.
Rudra chuckled softly. "Silent, huh? Truly amusing."
Suddenly—
TAP! TAP! — WHOOSH!
A small cylindrical object flew out from behind the wooden crates and landed at the cave entrance. Rudra quickly looked over, his brow furrowing.
"Hah? What's that?"
From her kneeling position, Ryuu—who had seemed desperate moments ago—took a deep breath. Her gaze was firm, full of challenge.
"Just watch," she said shortly.
And the cylinder erupted—FSSSSHHHH!
A bright red flash, then thick red smoke billowed straight into the night sky from the cave entrance like a distress signal. The color glowed strongly, contrasting with the darkness of the mountains.
The smoke didn't just billow—it danced like a torch calling to someone. A very specific someone.
Shirou turned his head slightly, though his body was still restrained.
Ryuu looked back at him—a "you're not the only one who can be reckless" was clearly etched in her eyes.
"This smoke..." Ryuu lifted her face a little. "Turned out to be useful after all."
Rudra stared at the cylinder that kept emitting billowing smoke, then looked back at the two humans forced to kneel.
His smile widened, truly entertained.
"...I see."
Rudra snorted softly. From the way he tilted his head, it was clear he was starting to realize something: his time was limited. That red smoke must have attracted someone's attention—whether city soldiers, bored gods, or the most annoying for Rudra... Loki herself.
If he let this brat keep holding his leg, he might be stuck long enough for trouble to arrive.
"Let go of my leg!" Rudra said coldly.
And this time, he spoke it as a command again.
Divine Will.
The supernatural pressure hit Shirou like an invisible shockwave. His grip immediately loosened, and his body lurched slightly downwards. His breath hitched—as if his lungs were being squeezed.
Rudra pulled his leg free without resistance and stepped out of Shirou's radius.
One step.
Two—
BRAK!
Suddenly, Rudra's leg jerked back. His divine body lost balance, and he fell into a sitting position with a completely inelegant thud.
Shirou—still kneeling, trembling, face bowed—had grabbed the god's ankle again.
"...You..." Rudra murmured in disbelief.
Divine Will was still pressing on Shirou. His body could barely move. But something within him—anger, conviction, or just noble foolishness—made him refuse to submit completely.
Shirou's hands shook violently. The muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed like bowstrings about to snap. His veins bulged, resisting the divine compulsion forcing his body to yield.
His breath came in ragged gasps.
"I... won't... let you..."
Rudra looked at him more seriously this time, full of astonishment.
A mortal... forcing himself to move against a god's will.
And succeeding enough to topple Rudra to the ground.
"...Crazy brat," Rudra murmured. But this time without laughter. Without teasing. Only a strange silence lurks behind the words.
Rudra stared at the brat, still holding his leg with an indefinable expression. The gentle flow of wind that had been swirling around his body subsided, as if the storm god was genuinely trying to comprehend what he was seeing.
"...What motivates you to this extent?" his voice was low with curiosity.
Shirou couldn't answer. His jaw was clenched, his breath came in gasps, and both hands still gripped Rudra's leg like the only thing keeping him conscious. There was no room for words—all his strength was spent just resisting the divine pressure.
It was Ryuu who finally spoke. Still in her forced kneeling position, her shoulders rose and fell heavily, but her voice remained clear.
"...It's something easy to explain," Ryuu said slowly, "His motivation is his dream."
Rudra shifted his gaze, one eyebrow raised. "Dream?"
Ryuu looked at Shirou briefly—vaguely, but clearly with a mixture of respect and wonder.
"He wants to save everyone. Become a defender of justice. Someone who helps anyone in need, regardless of who they are... a Seigi no Mikata (Ally of Justice)."
A few seconds of silence.
Then—
"Ha."
"Ha—ha—HAHAHAHA!"
Rudra's laughter exploded, thunderous, echoing loudly inside the cave. He truly laughed until his body bent slightly, even though one of his legs was still being held by Shirou.
"Mad... completely mad. There are still kids who believe in something like that in this age?"
Rudra wiped his face, still chuckling. "You pursue a dream that is absurd to the point of daring to obstruct a god? Even when your body is almost crushed?"
Shirou didn't move, still gripping.
Rudra looked at him again. But now there was a change in the god's eyes—a sharper gaze, full of calculation.
Like someone who had just found new material for a game.
"...Interesting," he whispered.
And at that second, a bad idea—a very bad idea—formed in his head. Rudra's eyes narrowed, his sly smile growing slowly like a storm cloud gathering electrical charge.
"Oh, Shirou Emiya..." Rudra murmured, his voice shifting to something dangerous yet amused. "A child like you... could be so much fun to play with."
Rudra's final words made the back of Shirou's neck stiffen. His combat instinct—usually calm like cold steel—suddenly blared a loud warning. Something was wrong.
And that premonition materialized instantly.
A wave of divine pressure erupted again without warning, but not aimed at Shirou. The wind around Ryuu suddenly wrapped around the elf's body like invisible ropes.
Rudra's eyes gleamed, his lips curving in a clearly wrong direction.
"...Ryuu Lion," he said lightly, as if calling a servant.
"Slowly. Choke yourself!"
"W-what...?"
Ryuu tensed. Both her hands trembled violently. Her fingers quivered, moving towards her own throat even as she tried to force her body to stop.
"Stop...! S-stop...!"
Her breath came in gasps, her body resisted, but the divine pressure made every bodily command reverse.
Shirou's eyes widened. "Ryuu—!!"
The elf was kneeling, both hands getting closer to her throat, her nails almost touching her skin.
Rudra just stood there, relaxed, as if watching a drama play.
"So here's the deal," he said, looking at Shirou, who was still gripping his right leg. "Let me go... or this girl dies in front of you."
Shirou tightened his grip, his teeth clenched so tightly they creaked.
Rudra lowered his body slightly, looking down at Shirou with full malicious relish.
"Choose. This world is full of strangers who have nothing to do with you. If you're not willing to release a small-time villain like me..."
He pointed his chin at Ryuu.
"...then she will be your first victim."
Ryuu tried to speak—her breath cut off. "Don't... think about me—"
But Rudra cut in with a small laugh.
"So how about it, Shirou Emiya?"
The god's voice was pressing, slick, and sharp. "Strangers you don't know... or Ryuu Lion?"
The pressure of divine will continued to press.
Ryuu shivered.
Shirou gritted his teeth.
And Rudra waited, his smile growing more terrible.
The question hammered into Shirou's mind like a mallet.
"If you had to choose—pull a lever to save one, or leave it untouched to save many—what would you do?"
Ryuu had asked him that back then, when they sat side by side in front of the fountain in the city park. Simple, but it stuck. And Shirou answered without hesitation.
"I would block the trolley... even with my own body."
Even if logic said it was impossible, even if the world said his choice was foolish—Shirou would stand on those tracks.
And now, the trolley was standing right in front of him.
Rudra.
The god who blessed broken souls, who deliberately sowed chaos, who considered tragedies entertainment, who used people's lives as story pawns.
Shirou's hands trembled violently, not from the divine will pressing down on him, but from his own blazing resolve.
The trolley was moving.
And Ryuu—his friend—was being choked by her own hands.
If I don't stop it...
If I let Rudra go...
How much more blood will be spilled?
Shirou closed his eyes for a moment.
He knew.
He had determined that answer long ago.
"Killing a god..." he whispered, his voice low, almost like a mutter. "The greatest sin in this world."
But his eyes opened again—this time, filled with a sharp resolution ready to sever fate.
And if that's the only way to stop this trolley—
Shirou gripped Rudra's leg even tighter, as if his bones wanted to be crushed by that determination itself.
—Then I will do it.
If his magic circuits were locked tight by divine will pressure, then only one path remained.
Force your own body.
Shirou took a deep breath, then forced his nerves to work like emergency prana pathways. A burning sensation struck instantly—not warmth, but like a red-hot iron wire pressed directly onto his body's tissues.
"Akh—!" his teeth chattered with pain.
Every nerve he forced glowed like a short-circuiting cable, seeming to scream as prana that shouldn't flow through those pathways coursed through them.
In front of him, Rudra covered his mouth with his hand, pretending to yawn.
"Booooring~," the god mocked, drawing out every syllable as if he had all the time in the world. "Honestly, boy… how long are you going to take just to make a choice?"
Shirou ignored him. His body trembled, but his lips began to move.
Slowly. Brokenly. But firmly.
"I am the bone of my sword."
The voice cracked like grating iron. Rudra stopped yawning.
"Steel is my body and fire is my blood."
Prana radiated from his nerves, not from his magic circuits. Wasteful, painful, and unstable.
"I have created over a thousand blades."
The ground trembled slightly—not from the power of the incantation, but because Shirou's body was forcing itself to live amidst that burning sensation.
"Unaware of loss,"
Ryuu, still choking herself, stared with wide eyes. She was hearing this chant for the first time.
"Nor aware of gain."
Rudra snorted in amusement. "Such a long chant? What's the use if your own body collapses first?"
"Withstood pain to create weapons, waiting for one's arrival."
The prana flare from his nerves dimmed—enough for one blade. Not a reality marble. Not a noble phantasm. Just a tiny fragment of a weapon he possessed.
"I have no regrets. This is the only path."
Shirou's breath hitched. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.
"My whole life was Unlimited Blade Works."
Crack.
Not a magical sound. But the sound of nerves is almost snapping.
His prana sparked—enough to summon one form.
Not Harpe, which can rend immortality.
Not Durandal, which will not break.
Not Kanshou and Bakuya, who are loyal to him.
What appeared in the air was a shoddy black blade.
Jura's black knife.
The knife belonged to the rotten demi-human he killed.
A wretched knife, not even worthy of being called a weapon.
Precisely because of that, the knife was easy to summon—simple, consuming very little prana, and possessing one thing Shirou needed.
It could stab.
Rudra didn't have time to react.
SHUP!!!
The black knife flew straight, shooting from the air as if fired by the resolve burning Shirou's body.
And that wretched black blade—
—plunged straight towards the god's heart.