"From here on, I can go alone. The Originium concentration ahead is a bit too high. It would not be good for you to go any further."
Naturally, that was just an excuse Shirou came up with on the spot. He did not have any device capable of measuring Originium concentration.
However, many times, such devices were unnecessary. A person could make a judgment with their own eyes.
After all, the strange glowing particles drifting overhead did not look normal at all.
Among all the knowledge Shirou currently possessed, there was only one situation that matched what he was seeing now.
And if things were truly as he suspected, then the situation was far worse than he had imagined.
"...Alright. Be careful."
Not only Shirou, but Blaze also understood exactly what those floating Originium particles meant.
After receiving her response, Shirou moved ahead alone.
Once Shirou left, Blaze did not remain idle. She immediately pulled out her communicator and attempted to establish a connection. In an area with such a high Originium concentration, getting a signal was largely a matter of luck.
Fortunately, luck was on her side. She successfully connected to the aircraft's communication system and quickly reported the situation.
As for Shirou, after adjusting the ordinary mask he had projected to keep the sand out of his lungs, he slowly advanced forward.
Step by step.
Moving deeper inside.
Whoosh—
The sound of an arrow slicing through the air reached his ears.
Without hesitation, Shirou swung the twin blades in his hands and cut it down.
At the same time, it confirmed one thing.
There really were people inside.
And they were clearly doing something they did not want others to see. Otherwise, they would not have hidden the area with Originium Arts and immediately launched an attack.
That arrow had been aimed directly at his head.
It was an unmistakable attempt to kill.
Glancing back at Blaze and seeing her still speaking into the communicator, Shirou lowered his body and poured magical energy into his legs.
The next moment, only a crater remained where he had been standing.
His figure had already vanished.
A red-and-black silhouette flashed past and instantly disappeared from Blaze's sight.
"Victoria's bloody hell! What was that?!"
Although Blaze had been talking through the communicator the entire time, her eyes had never left Shirou.
Then he glanced at her, turned around, and simply disappeared.
Was that some kind of magic?
After the initial shock faded, Blaze quickly realized that Shirou had probably entered the range of the Originium Art that distorted vision.
Thinking that, she tightened her grip on her chainsaw.
She was an elite operator of Rhodes Island. Situations like this were hardly unfamiliar to her.
The conditions inside were certainly terrible.
Probably the kind of scene that would make her want to start killing the moment she saw it.
That was one reason she had agreed not to enter. It was not just because of the high Originium concentration nearby.
She was also worried that she might lose control and slaughter everyone responsible.
For now, she could only place her hopes on Shirou.
...Wait.
Had that idiot just gone in wearing nothing but an ordinary mask?
He had spent all that time insisting that she wear the heavy protective mask properly.
Yet he himself casually put on a lightweight mask and charged inside?
The double standard was unbelievable.
While waiting for reinforcements to arrive, Blaze could not help complaining internally.
"..."
Meanwhile, having entered the area concealed by the Originium Arts, Shirou finally saw what lay within.
It was even worse than he had imagined.
A familiar smell pierced through his mask and entered his nose.
It was not a scent worth remembering.
Quite the opposite.
The smell stimulated his brain, and together with the scene before him, for a brief moment he felt as though he had returned to that sea of flames.
The smell of things burning in a fire...
No matter how many times he experienced it, he probably would never get used to it.
Nor did he want to.
But he had no choice.
He had to endure it.
Otherwise, he would not be able to eliminate the people responsible.
"This guy got inside! Kill him!"
Before Shirou could make the first move, a large group of people wearing thick protective clothing and white masks raised their weapons and aimed at him.
There were many of them.
Not counting those lying motionless on the ground in piled heaps, there were at least several hundred still standing.
More than half reacted immediately and grabbed their weapons.
Some had yet to understand what was happening and simply stood there blankly.
The remaining few, however, froze in terror the moment they recognized Shirou's appearance.
As if they had seen the most horrifying thing imaginable, they instinctively stepped backward.
Then they tripped over something beneath their feet and fell to the ground.
Something.
Or rather—
Someone.
Pile after pile of people.
Their bodies all had varying amounts of Originium crystal growth, proving that they had been infected during their lifetimes.
And now—
They were stacked together like cargo.
However, Shirou saw farther than the others. Beyond the piles of bodies, he could clearly see clouds of Originium dust continuously drifting upward into the sky.
"Hmph!"
Faced with the incoming barrage of crossbow bolts and Arts attacks, Shirou merely tightened his grip on Kanshou and Bakuya before vanishing from where he stood.
The black blade in his left hand spun once, deflecting a spell. In the next instant, it transformed into a pitch-black gunblade.
For him, an open battlefield like this was the most favorable environment possible.
A black gunblade in his left hand.
A white sword in his right.
He wore his crimson Mystic Code, though his left arm lacked the matching red sleeve. Instead, there was only a device resembling a restraint cuff fastened around it.
The moment he raised his left hand, he pulled the trigger.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three gunshots.
Three bursts of blood.
Three people fell to the ground.
Immediately afterward, the white blade in his right hand swept forward, severing the arm and chest of an attacker who had rushed in for close combat.
The orange sleeve on his right arm stood out sharply against the black-and-white outfit.
But Shirou had no attention to spare for such things.
At this moment, only one thought occupied his mind.
Stop them.
These people had to be stopped.
Although no one fully understood how Catastrophes were born, one theory suggested that they were closely connected to Originium...
If that was true, then was increasing the Originium concentration through vast amounts of Originium dust essentially a prayer for a Catastrophe to descend?
Shirou could not understand it.
What could anyone possibly hope to gain from bringing a Catastrophe forward?
Since he could not understand it...
Then he would simply eliminate the problem directly.
As long as the source of the problem was removed, there would be no need to think about it any further.
Blade rising and falling, Shirou rapidly dealt with those who resisted.
Every pull of the trigger.
Every swing of a blade.
Marked the end of another life.
Only after all resistance had been crushed did he shift his attention to those who had long since dropped to the ground and surrendered.
Their trembling and terrified appearances earned no sympathy from him.
Walking forward, he randomly grabbed one of them by the collar and lifted him into the air.
"Who ordered you to do this? Who is behind what is happening here?"
His expression was completely similar to Archer.
Golden eyes that seemed as though flames might erupt from them at any moment.
A gunblade in his left hand thicker than the man's own arm.
And above all—
That crimson outfit.
Every aspect of Shirou's appearance assaulted the man's nerves, causing him to stammer uncontrollably.
In summary, his answers boiled down to three things:
He did not know.
He was not sure.
He had no idea.
After getting nothing useful, Shirou decisively knocked him unconscious and tossed him aside like a piece of trash.
Then he shot him in the leg for good measure.
Living prisoners could provide more information.
This was a temporary situation, and Shirou lacked experience with interrogations. Leaving these non-resistant captives unconscious for Rhodes Island or someone else to question later was the best option.
Forcing himself to remain calm, he continued questioning them one by one.
Anyone who spoke nothing but nonsense was immediately knocked out, shot in the leg, and thrown aside.
Anyone who provided even a small amount of useful information was knocked unconscious and set aside.
As for those who attempted to sneak away—
They first had to get past the firearm in his hand.
"...Wait. The Originium Arts have not disappeared?"
Halfway through the interrogations, Shirou suddenly realized something.
The Originium Arts covering this area were still active.
From where he stood, he could see Blaze, Rosmontis, and the members of Penguin Logistics outside, anxiously looking around for him.
Perhaps that was for the best.
Still, the fact that the Arts remained active put him on guard.
It seemed the people hiding in the shadows had noticed his realization.
Unable to remain patient any longer, they unleashed the crossbow bolts and spells they had been preparing.
Their target, naturally, was Shirou.
"This is much more professional than before."
As the bolts and spells flew toward him from every direction, Shirou immediately recognized the difference.
The earlier attackers had been like children throwing stones with no coordination whatsoever.
This attack, however, had clearly been planned.
None of the attacks interfered with one another.
Instead, they complemented each other perfectly.
For Shirou, though, it made no difference.
A Mystic Code was not merely a set of clothing.
Standing completely still, his eyes swept across the battlefield in an instant, memorizing the positions of most of his enemies.
Then he took a deep breath and raised his right hand.
"Trace on—"
The moment the chant ended, countless Arts attacks engulfed his figure.
The resulting explosion was tremendous.
Dust and debris erupted into the air, shrouding the location where he had been standing.
The attackers surrounding the area did not lower their guard.
Instead, they prepared to launch another wave of attacks.
But events did not unfold as they expected.
A thunderous crash suddenly sounded from behind them.
Then, a crimson figure burst out of the cloud of dust at incredible speed.
Blood still stained Shirou's body, much of it not yet dry.
The sight was terrifying.
"Seven, eight, nine... twelve people?"
While charging toward the nearest enemy, Shirou quickly counted the number of individuals who had launched the attack from concealment.
Twelve.
That seemed to be the total.
Including the two he had shot dead at the very beginning, there had been a total of twelve people.
These individuals were completely different from the others.
Their skills were far superior, their attacks far sharper, and their coordination far more refined.
At that moment, Shirou felt as though he was fighting a tactical squad from the Guard Department.
The same disciplined training.
The same seamless cooperation in battle.
The only difference was that this was a fight where blood would actually be spilled.
Against Shirou's overwhelming superiority, the battle ended quickly.
He swiftly brought them all down.
This time, however, he deliberately spared a few of them.
After all, these people clearly knew far more than the others.
More importantly, unlike the earlier group, these individuals wore not only orange armbands but red ones as well.
Besides, most of the prisoners he had intended to hand over to Rhodes Island had died during the coordinated assault.
He needed replacements.
Using a rope, he bound the surviving captives together and began dragging them toward the exit.
By now, the Originium Arts concealing the area had already dissipated.
However, before being engulfed by the barrage of Arts attacks earlier, Shirou had projected the Mountain-Splitting Sword to block Blaze's line of sight.
As a result, the others still had no idea what had happened inside.
To prevent them from worrying and rushing in, Shirou quickly dragged the prisoners out.
After passing around the enormous sword, he soon saw the members of Penguin Logistics waving at him.
Nearby, Blaze and Rosmontis were organizing their equipment, clearly preparing to enter and provide support.
"Are you alright?"
As Shirou approached, Sora asked with obvious concern.
There was simply too much blood on him.
Most of it did not appear to be his, but what if some of it was?
"I am fine. None of this blood is mine."
Seeing the worry on Sora's faceand on everyone else's, Shirou waved a hand dismissively.
At the same time, he handed the bound prisoners over to Blaze.
"Only these people?"
Looking at the five captives tied together, Blaze immediately slipped into work mode and asked with a serious expression.
She did not believe that such a small number of people could have occupied Shirou for so long.
"There were many more. Most of them were dealt with. These are the only survivors left."
Shaking his head, Shirou answered calmly.
"...I see."
Blaze fell silent for a moment after hearing that.
For someone as kind-hearted as Shirou to unleash that kind of slaughter, the situation inside was probably every bit as horrific as she had imagined.
What surprised her was that Shirou had acted just as ruthlessly as she would have.
No—
In some ways, he had handled it even better.
That giant sword had probably been deployed specifically to keep them from seeing what was inside.
And he had still managed to bring back live prisoners.
Those two facts alone put him ahead of her.