"Next time, you won't be so lucky!"
With those words, the girl raised her bow once more.
It was a jet-black bow, taller than herself, painted black with intricate golden patterns decorating its limbs.
Mana quickly condensed along its string, transforming into a barrage of arrows.
In the span of a breath, dozens of arrows shot out effortlessly. To her, launching this many shots was child's play. Against a mere Master, such trivial effort was enough.
That was precisely why she'd only fired a single arrow at first.
As an expert huntress, if one couldn't fell prey in a single strike, the hunt was meaningless.
And now, Shirou Emiya had become her prey.
Wooden arrows enveloped by swirling green winds once again ripped through the night, targeting Shirou with lethal precision.
Forehead, heart, limbs—every vital point was locked onto simultaneously. At their blistering speed, all Shirou could glimpse were streaks of green gleaming under the moonlight.
"Found you!"
As she launched her second attack, Shirou pinpointed her location amidst the darkness.
Compared to swordsmanship, archery was Shirou's true forte. Even though his vision wasn't quite on par with a Heroic Spirit, it wasn't far off. With further training, he might yet develop eyesight rivaling a Servant's vision.
"[Cross Tail]!"
Unlike the previous surprise strike, Shirou now had time—perhaps less than a second, but enough—to respond properly to the overwhelming volley of arrows.
Countless threads scattered in his surroundings converged instantly, forming a circular shield before him.
Seeing this, the girl smiled confidently. Such a flimsy defense would never withstand her attack.
But the next instant—
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Violent impacts echoed sharply off the shield, some arrows embedding themselves deeply into its surface, yet none pierced through to strike Shirou.
"Impossible! How could mere threads withstand that attack?!"
The girl stared in disbelief. Looking again, she saw the thread shield had transformed into solid iron.
At its top rested a helmet identical to the armor Shirou had previously worn.
"Can that armor attach itself to other objects?"
The girl's suspicion was correct. Shirou's thread shield was indeed coated in [Incursio].
Earlier, when [Incursio] had focused its power onto his face, Shirou had a sudden realization:
[Incursio] adapts its shape instantly to match the wearer's form. Doesn't that mean the armor itself can freely alter its shape?
The helmet's fluid transformation had already proven that much. If the armor could change to fit a human, could it do the same with objects?
Normally, [Incursio] could never attach itself to anything nonliving. Imperial Arms had souls and consciousness, choosing wielders accordingly. They would never bond with lifeless things.
But Shirou's projections broke that limitation. The projected [Incursio] had no consciousness, no will to choose a wielder—every decision rested solely with Shirou himself.
A soulless [Incursio] would follow Shirou's desires without hesitation.
Thus, at Shirou's mental command, the armor easily merged with his thread shield.
Reducing its coverage area drastically improved its defense, especially combined with the already durable threads. This allowed Shirou to withstand the devastating arrow barrage.
Only thanks to his nearly limitless mana supply could Shirou defend himself this extravagantly.
Under normal circumstances, projecting even two sets of Incursio would drain him completely.
Having unlimited mana truly means doing whatever you please…
"Damn it!"
The huntress frowned, eyes blazing with anger. Her prey repeatedly defying her arrows was intolerable.
Immense mana surged into her hands—she was getting serious.
Yet at the same moment, she noticed Shirou holding a bow, with a sword chained to its string, aiming straight at her.
He spotted me? Impossible!
She refused to believe a mere Master could detect her location so swiftly, yet her actions never slowed.
Whirling mana gathered around her arrow, engulfing it entirely. Enhanced by emerald-green magic, its destructive force now rivaled artillery shells.
Whoosh—!
Trailing chaotic winds, her arrow sliced through the air, flying straight at Shirou—this strike at least ten times stronger than her previous attacks.
Simultaneously, Shirou now held a bow formed from threads, likewise armored with [Incursio].
An ordinary bow could never fire effectively at such a range.
Yet Shirou had no intention of raising the shield again. Calmly, he nocked his chained blade and aimed toward the girl's hiding place.
Instead, multiple threads rose swiftly from the ground, assembling into another barrier in front of him.
Clang——!
An ear-splitting collision echoed loudly.
"It didn't penetrate?!"
The girl's calm facade shattered instantly.
Her arrow, ten times more powerful than before, failed to break through a barrier previously punctured by weaker strikes?
There had never been a rule forbidding [Incursio] from stacking onto itself. In the Empire, [Incursio] was unique, singular—but Shirou Emiya's projections changed all that. His [Incursio] was effectively mass-produced. Each piece might be weaker individually, but quantity had become his strength.
Taking advantage of unlimited mana, Shirou layered ten projections of [Incursio] onto the shield, inspired by his earlier experience of projecting five weapons simultaneously.
Thus, stopping her strike became a simple matter.
Immediately after blocking the attack, two hands woven from threads lifted the bow in front of Shirou, aiming it directly at the girl.
The chained blade shot forth like a meteor—yet its speed paled compared to her own arrows.
At such a sluggish pace, the blade posed no threat. By the time it arrived, she could easily relocate. Moreover, Shirou hadn't personally fired it, greatly diminishing its accuracy. Even if she stood perfectly still, the shot might miss altogether.
The chained sword harmlessly lodged itself into the tree branch near her.
She hadn't even bothered to evade. From the moment Shirou fired, she knew it couldn't harm her.
Smirking lightly, her disdain wasn't directed at Shirou himself. After all, any mere Master who could match blows with a Servant to this extent deserved recognition as a hero.
No, her disdain was solely for his archery skills.
With such poor precision, she wouldn't even need to move from this position frequently.
---
T/N:
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