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The rage did not come slowly—it exploded. As flames doused with oil, it was hot, sudden, and unstoppable. It wasn't because Jura had tricked him. It wasn't because of the stupid threat he'd directed at his neck.
Shirou was used to being deceived. That didn't bother him at all.
What made his chest tremble with fury... was the knife.
The cold metal pressed against his skin felt like it pushed a button in his head—a reflex too deep to stop.
A moment before, without a word, without pause—"Trace... on."
A thin energy coursed from his fingertips to his eyes and into the short blade. In an instant, the structure of the blade opened up like a torn book before him—layer by layer, memory by memory.
Shirou saw it.
—Unclear images, like flashes of a nightmare forcing their way out.
—The dim light of a lantern in a dungeon.
—The sobs of a young girl being dragged roughly.
—Clothes torn forcibly from her body.
—A man's scream was brutally silenced.
—Blood splattering on the blade.
—The low laughter of the Rudra Familia hits his ears like poison.
—And Jura... Jura was standing at the front, his face flushed with passion and cruelty.
These memories were not imagined pictures.
They were not conjecture.
They were the truth left behind in the blade—traces of the emotions, actions, and violence committed with that tool. Tracing swallowed it all raw and projected it like an open wound.
Shirou was frozen.
His breath was silent.
His eyes burned, far darker than before.
This... this isn't just murder.
This is torture.
Slaughter.
Rape.
And what made his stomach churn the most was crimes against those who couldn't fight back.
Novice adventurers.
Young women.
The orphaned children of the city's underbelly.
That knife—used repeatedly... for things Shirou didn't even want to describe with words.
As the flashes of memory slapped his conscience, Shirou's chest trembled.
Someone like this...
Someone who did this...
Someone who enjoyed this...
Jura bit his lip hard, his body trembling under Shirou's drastically changed gaze. The young man's eyes were no longer merely angry—they were like black embers about to swallow anything they touched.
"E-eh... w-wait..." Jura whispered, his voice cracking. "Why are you... looking at me like that...?"
Shirou didn't answer.
But the aura from his body—cold, heavy, pressing like a collapsing stone wall—was an answer clearer than any words.
Shirou said nothing as the rage reached its peak.
He raised his hand—slowly, without trembling—and clenched Jura's wrist, the one still holding the knife to his neck.
CRACK—!!
"A-AAAGGHHH!!" Jura screamed as the bone in his wrist made a sound, pain shooting up his entire arm. The knife slipped—clink!—falling onto the fragile wooden floor.
Shirou bent down, picking up the blade with a calm movement. Too calm.
Ryuu, behind him, stiffened immediately, her face turning worried. Shirou seemed different—not just angry. There was something darker... heavier.
"Shirou..." Ryuu called softly, but Shirou paid no heed.
Jura, his body shaking violently, lifted his blood and tear-streaked face. "M-mercy! Sorry! Sorry! I—I didn't mean to—I—I was scared!" He pleaded like a drowning man, begging, his voice broken and hoarse. "Sorry! Forgive me for taking you hostage—"
Shirou cut him off with words cold, full of fiery wrath. "I'm not angry because of that."
Jura froze. "W-What...?"
Shirou stared at him sharply, his eyes blazing with anger. "You said you had repented." His breath was heavy and trembling as he held back emotion. "All of that—" he lifted the knife in front of Jura's face "—is bullshit."
Jura scrambled back as much as he could. "N-no... I... I really—"
"LIES!" Shirou shouted, freezing Jura in place.
A look of confusion mixed with terror appeared on Jura's face. "H-how... how do you know...?"
Shirou didn't answer with words. He responded with action.
STAB!
"AAGHHH!!" Jura screamed as Shirou stabbed the knife into his shoulder. Blood seeped out, staining his clothes.
"Mercy!!" Jura thrashed, the chair shaking, but he couldn't escape; he hit the wooden wall as he fell.
Ryuu was stunned. Shirou wasn't usually like this. But Shirou's eyes... showed he was seeing something Ryuu couldn't.
"Mercy... mercy..." Jura sobbed, pleading.
Shirou bent over, his voice low and trembling with rage. "That's what your victims said."
He pulled the knife out—
—and stabbed again.
STAB!
"UGH—!!"
"Did you give them mercy?"
STAB!
"A-ARGH! STOP!!"
"Did you give them a chance?"
STAB!
Blood splattered on the floor.
"Did you give them room to run?"
STAB!!
Jura's screams weakened, almost becoming the howl of a wounded animal.
Shirou kept stabbing non-vital areas, each thrust accompanied by words that hit harder than the knife.
"The novices you kidnapped..."
STAB!
"The girl you tied up in the basement..."
STAB!
"The women the Rudra Familia took turns—"
STAB! STAB!
"—you laughed along while they cried, didn't you!?"
Ryuu covered her mouth with her hand, shocked.
Shirou wasn't guessing.
He knew.
Jura sobbed, his body full of stab wounds. "N-no... I... I—"
"SILENCE!!" Shirou yelled at him.
The knife was raised again.
And Jura realized too late:
That Shirou was far more dangerous than Ryuu.
Shirou had already raised the knife again—his movements quick, almost reflexive, full of a rage Ryuu had never seen in him before. But before the blade could pierce flesh again, a hand gripped his wrist firmly.
Ryuu.
"Enough."
Ryuu's voice was low—not pleading, not forbidding... but reminding.
Shirou stopped, his eyes still sharp, his breath heaving. He turned, confused. Ryuu looked back, not with pity for Jura, but with a cruel logic more merciless than any blow.
"We still need his information," Ryuu said softly. "If he dies now... It's all for nothing."
That word—for nothing—finally pierced the fog of Shirou's rage. He took a long, trembling breath, trying to calm the roar in his chest. Ryuu slowly released his hand.
Shirou took two steps back. His face was still dark, but he managed to restrain himself. He reached into a small pouch at his waist, pulling out a tiny glass bottle containing a clear blue liquid—an elixir. An extremely expensive item in Orario.
The half-unconscious Jura was slumped in his chair, his body covered in stab wounds, his breathing terrible like a dying man. Besides the wounds, the poison from the knife flowed in his body, blurring his vision. In his mind, only one thought:
It's... It's time for me to die...
Shirou's hand reached out.
Jura flinched, thinking the knife would pierce him again.
But—splaaash—the cold liquid of the elixir doused his body, seeping into the open wounds—a warm sensation spread from his skin. The stab wounds slowly closed, the poison receded from his nerves, and his breathing stabilized.
Jura screamed, not from pain, but from the reality he had just realized.
He wasn't dead.
He wasn't allowed to die.
He was forced back to life.
Shirou stood straight, his gaze sharp again, but far more controlled. "You're not finished."
"Th-that..." Jura's voice broke. "That elixir... high-grade... why did you—"
Before he could finish his sentence, KRACK! something pressed against his neck.
Ryuu had placed her boot squarely on Jura's throat, pressing slowly but enough to choke his breath. Ryuu's eyes narrowed, her gaze cold.
"You think that was painful?" Ryuu whispered, her voice low but very clear. "Unfortunately for you... that was just the warm-up."
She pressed a little harder; Jura coughed violently, his body trembling.
"From now on," Ryuu continued, "we will torture you..."
She bent down, her smile thin like a blade piercing the heart.
"...then heal you..."
Shirou stood behind her, silent, but his presence was like a dark shadow behind the executioner.
"...so you can be tortured repeatedly until you tell us everything."
Jura was silent for a moment, his breath ragged, his body trembling between pain, fear, and... a despair that was increasingly swallowing his sanity. His gaze was empty, lost. In his head, only one thought bounced around like a mad mantra.
Why am I protecting them...? My Familia? They're all the same anyway... scum like me...
He turned his face away from Shirou and Ryuu, surrendering completely. "Okay... okay... I'll talk." His voice was broken, almost like a mumble. "The headquarters... It's on the west side of Orario. Behind the moss-covered cliff... there's a hidden cave. They... they usually gather at night."
Shirou stared at him sharply. "A meeting?"
Jura nodded quickly, his breath hurried. "Yes! Yes... There's a meeting tonight, too. All... all the remaining members will come. I've told you... so... at least..." his face was pale, his eyes full of tears, "...at least let me live..."
Shirou tilted his head, his expression cold like steel, devoid of mercy. "Do you deserve to?" That sentence wasn't a real question; it was more like a verdict.
Jura froze. A bitter smile—or a desperate one—appeared on his face.
Ryuu drew Alvs Lumina. Her steps were slow but firm, her gaze without a hint of hesitation.
"At the very least," she said softly but firmly, "I'll give you a quick death."
But instead of pleading or screaming, Jura laughed. Laughed loudly, cracked, like someone who had long lost their sanity.
"Hahaha... you... You two are demons!" he spat blood, his face filled with dark despair. "You think killing me will bring them back? All my victims... the women... those stupid novices... they're still dead! Don't act so righteous! Don't think you're any better—"
WHAAACK!!
Ryuu didn't give him a last word. It wasn't Alvs Lumina she swung... but her wooden sword. The blade struck Jura squarely on the side of the neck.
CRACK!
A sharp snapping sound filled the hut.
Jura's body immediately went limp, his head lolling without strength, his eyes open but empty—life extinguished instantly.
Ryuu took a deep breath, her expression unmoved. Shirou just stood silent, looking at the corpse with an unreadably dark gaze.
A faint breeze entering through the gaps in the hut's walls brushed the dust on the floor, as if drawing the final curtain on a criminal who never regretted his sins.
And there, the interrogation ended—but their revenge had only just begun.
Ryuu tightened her grip on the wooden sword, her gaze cold and focused again after Jura's death. "We're returning to the surface," she said without hesitation. "Tonight... we ambush the remnants of the Rudra Familia."
Shirou didn't move immediately. He gestured with his chin towards Jura's body, lying sideways on the hut floor, the broken neck adding to the gruesome look of his frozen face. "Wait a moment," he said softly but firmly. "Let's deal with this one before we go."
Ryuu snorted, slightly disgusted and sickened just by looking at the man's corpse. "Just throw it in the river. He doesn't deserve anything more than that."
Shirou shook his head. "If the corpse gets carried by the current and is found, it could trigger an investigation. We don't need new problems." He glanced out the small window of the hut, making sure no one was peeking. "It's safer if we throw it to the monsters. Nothing will be left later."
Ryuu understood his logic. "Fine." She bent down, preparing to lift the corpse.
But before they could move further, a noisy sound came from the distance—the rustle of branches being stepped on, then faint shouts.
"What's that!? I heard a man's voice from over here!"
"Are you sure? Sounded like screams—"
Ryuu cursed softly. "Tch... that must be because of his screaming earlier." She looked at Shirou with urgency. "We have to leave now."
Shirou immediately stretched out his hand slightly, and cling—shrrrkk! A prana aura vibrated in the air. A long black cloak appeared from a faint light, followed by the same white skull mask he had used when kidnapping Jura.
He quickly put them on, becoming a faceless dark figure.
Ryuu made sure no traces were left behind. Shirou walked ahead, hoisting Jura's body onto his shoulder, his steps silent, a gloomy aura enveloping the hut walls now to be left empty.
Without looking back, they slipped out of the forest towards the dungeon entrance, carrying Jura's corpse to be thrown into the jaws of the underground monsters.
Only the whisper of the wind remained, as if swallowing every piece of evidence of what had just happened.
***
In the depths of the 17th floor, the smell of blood and the heavy breathing of monsters filled the air. Shirou stopped at the edge of a narrow corridor, glancing briefly at the body he carried.
Without a word, he threw Jura's corpse into the midst of a pack of wandering Minotaurs.
THUD!
The body hit the stone floor, and within seconds...
GRAAAAH!!
The first Minotaur charged, its horns slamming into Jura's chest, crushing it. Others immediately joined in, large teeth tearing flesh, giant hands squeezing, breaking bones.
CRUNCH—SPLAT—KRRRAAAK!
Shirou and Ryuu didn't look back.
Without wasting time, they passed through the dungeon corridors—ascending quickly from the 17th floor upwards. Any monster that appeared met a swift fate:
shiiing! A quick slash from Ryuu severed its neck, or thump! Shirou's strike crushed its heart in one blow.
The two didn't speak much. Their auras were serious, focused, and weighed down by what they had just done. Only the sound of footsteps and the abruptly cut-off groans of monsters accompanied their journey.
The skull-masked figure and the green-masked elf cleaved through the dungeon, overtaking other adventurer groups with a speed that didn't want to attract attention. Once they started approaching a deserted area, Shirou stretched his fingers slightly.
Wshhhh—
The skull mask and black cloak turned into particles of light, disappearing as prana that reintegrated into his body.
Ryuu also took a deep breath, lowered her green hood, and removed her mask, hiding it quickly before any other eyes could notice.
Arriving at the spiral staircase leading to the surface, the evening light illuminated their grim faces.
Ryuu walked in front, her breath heavy, while Shirou followed without saying a word. Their steps felt slow, weighed down by what they had just done.
"At least now we know their location..." Shirou murmured, though not sure if it really comforted anyone.
Ryuu didn't answer. She just walked, her steps regular but heavy.
Shirou stayed by Ryuu's side, following the familiar route: the path to the Hostess of Fertility staff dormitory. Though no words were spoken, Shirou's presence was clearly a silent support for Ryuu, who was processing what they had just done—and what they had to do tonight.
The quiet dormitory hallway welcomed them—silent, only the sound of the evening wind creeping through the window gaps. Shirou and Ryuu stopped right in front of Ryuu's room door. The nearly set sun painted a soft silhouette on the Elf's face, making her look far more fragile than a few hours ago.
Ryuu turned, her voice calm but filled with resolve. "At night... we meet at the city wall, near the west gate."
Shirou nodded slowly. "Okay." But his feet didn't move. There was something held back on his lips, a heaviness he had been hiding since they left the Dungeon.
Ryuu frowned. "What is it?"
Shirou took a breath, his face lowering slightly. "I'm sorry."
Ryuu blinked, confused. "Why are you apologizing?"
Shirou rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the ground as if searching for the right words. "Because... deep down, I wanted to believe that Jura had truly changed. Even after all he did. Even after he was... one of the reasons your friends died." His voice lowered, as if condemning himself. "I wanted to save him. Part of me still hoped he could be redeemed."
Ryuu fell silent. Shirou's words touched something soft beneath the cold layers she had built up over the years. Her hard expression softened slowly.
"Shirou..." Ryuu said his name softly. "You don't need to apologize."
Shirou looked at her, slightly confused.
Then Ryuu smiled sweetly—a rare smile, softer than usual. "Giving a second chance... that's something I admire about you. Something I can no longer do myself."
Shirou was captivated for a moment. That sentence felt like a warm splash amidst the coldness of their earlier journey.
"But..." Ryuu continued, her gaze hardening again. "Not everyone deserves your kindness. Not every soul can be saved. The Rudra Familia... is one of them."
Shirou nodded slowly—not just agreeing with Ryuu's words, but feeling them. "I know. Their weapons... are not like your friends'."
He closed his eyes for a moment, recalling the memories flowing from the tracing earlier—blood, screams, the cruelty committed with Jura's knife.
"Alise's, Kaguya's, Lyra's weapons..." Shirou continued softly. "Even if cracked, even if broken... they all carried the traces of people who lived to protect." He opened his eyes. "While Jura's knife only carried traces of destruction."
Ryuu bowed her head, closing her fingers over her chest as if holding back something heavy. "That's why... we have to end this tonight."
Shirou answered with determination. "Yes. Together."
Ryuu nodded, then turned towards her room door. Her fingers hesitated on the doorknob before she softly said without turning around, "Thank you... for still being by my side."
The door closed—click—leaving Shirou standing alone in the dimly lit hallway, with the burden of revenge he now shared with Ryuu, and the night waiting for them with darkness, silence, and bloodshed.