He Tore Through The Holy Grail War, And You Still Call Him A Dragon?

The next day, the wind and rain still poured relentlessly, beating countless pits into the beach sand.

On the nearby private helipad by the coast, white robes and scarlet hakama climbed into the seat amid the roar of the engines. A small hand waved lightly through the narrow crack of the cabin door for a moment, and then, as the altitude rose, it gradually turned into a faint silhouette on the horizon.

Only Shirou, Genji, and Uesugi Koshirō came to see Eriyi off.

Nono had no connection with Eriyi and clearly had no plans to come. Genji also would not make a big show of notifying the Serpent's Eight Houses, lest their Moon-Reading Princess's secret departure be wrapped in unnecessary ceremony.

Uesugi Koshirō would never send Ange an invitation either—Ange was the head of the Secret Party, and he didn't want his daughter to be dragged into such a bloated organization filled with "bastards."

"…Today's storm feels unusually loud."

Genji held an umbrella, watching the heavy clouds stretch endlessly across the horizon, dragging down torrents of rain that poured with a weight like the sky collapsing upon the earth.

"This year's weather is very different from the past," Uesugi sighed softly, thinking of something. "I only hope it won't develop into the worst possible case."

Genji thought he was talking about the Holy Grail War and "the gods."

"Since last night, I've already sent our family members to investigate, but gods are not humans—it's hard to say if we'll find any useful leads. We don't know their plans, we don't know their methods… For generations, our family has persisted in sealing gods. But in the end, the god freed itself, and we can't even track its movements… We've known nothing about gods from beginning to end."

"No, I think I can guess the 'god's' intention…"

Shirou recalled what he encountered in the sewers the previous night—that sinister shadow, the first words it uttered were: "The advent of myth."

"The advent of myth?" Genji was startled, remembering only the ancient history recorded in their family: in distant ages, humans prostrated themselves before the gods (the dragonkind).

Shirou explained, "Yes. In the myth of Izanami, she was trapped in Yomi and declared to Izanagi: 'I shall slay a thousand people each day and annihilate mankind.' If she were to emerge, what she brings would only be death."

"Of course!" Genji suddenly understood. The god they worshipped—the White King—bestowed dragon blood only so that humans could act as vessels to preserve its genes. On the day of revival, the White King would consume its descendants, reclaim the dragon blood, and return to its prime.

In other words, stealing Eriyi's bloodline beforehand was for the sake of "Kotodama: Judgment"! That power could reap countless lives in one sweep!

"Good, I'll immediately have the family focus on cases and accidents of 'unnatural deaths'!"

Genji moved in his usual fiery manner, the hem of his black coat flaring in the rain as he turned back at once to make arrangements.

"Hey! Son, don't forget training!"

Uesugi Koshirō shouted at his son's fading figure.

"Training?" Shirou frowned, puzzled. What were these father and son secretly plotting?

"Oh, just sword training. Heh, after so many years without returning home, I realized last night that Genji's sword skills are actually worse than his younger brother's. How can the head of the family allow that? With the Holy Grail War worsening, of course I must train him hard."

When Uesugi Koshirō smiled, he showed two rows of neat white teeth—the expression of a devil instructor. "Though I haven't used it for years, my foundation is deeper. My skills are still a bit sharper than my sons'."

The old man raised his fingers as if pointing at the universe.

Shirou's lips twitched. "Swordsmanship, huh? So you're a sword master after all. If I may ask, Koshirō-san, what school are you most skilled in? I'm curious."

"Me?" Uesugi Koshirō's tone rose with pride. "I dabble in many schools. But if I had to name my best, it would be Niten Ichiryū!"

"What a coincidence!" Shirou grinned. "Koshirō-san, I've recently taken an interest in Niten Ichiryū myself. Since this place is quiet, how about we cross blades here?"

Shirou had been trying to learn techniques through "Projection Armament" derived from his Noble Phantasm projection.

He realized that after releasing a Noble Phantasm, he often froze up and gasped for breath. Without teammates to cover him, he left huge openings in solo battles.

He once thought that using skills like Muramasa's "Trial Swordsmanship" could let him simulate a close-combat version of "Broken Phantasm." But in real combat, he found that the skill required immense focus to control the burst direction.

His precision was still far from enough.

Thus, Shirou believed what he needed wasn't only Noble Phantasms or Unlimited Blade Works.

He also needed strong, versatile techniques that consumed little mana but could be executed swiftly—like partially releasing Duanlongtai to unleash fire, ice, or sword wind.

Since this was about control, only by mastering more refined techniques could he reach the realm of perfect Trial Swordsmanship—casually unleashing a Noble Phantasm at full power with a flick.

In this regard, he felt Miyamoto Musashi's Noble Phantasm, "Rikudō Gorin: Kurikara Tennō" (Six Paths, Five Rings: Kurikara Heavenly Phenomenon), was a perfect reference.

This Noble Phantasm wasn't like Ushiwakamaru's "Shana-Ō Monogatari," which ascended purely from legend.

Musashi's five-fold slashes, embodying the Myō-ō statues, were her life's culmination in "The Book of Five Rings," unleashed through Niten Ichiryū stances as sword-pressure of "Earth, Water, Fire, Wind, Void."

So, by partially releasing like Duanlongtai, could Shirou also break these techniques apart, creating individual stances and skills for each of the five attributes?

With that thought, Shirou grew eager.

And Uesugi Koshirō too felt his blood stir.

"Shirou, you have far more ambition in swordsmanship than Genji! Worthy of praise… Ah, but I didn't bring a sword today. What a pity, coming all this way for nothing."

A shame, really—he was tempted. He still held a grudge against Shirou for stealing his daughter. If this was under the pretense of teaching Niten Ichiryū, couldn't he "educate" this brat properly?

He had to make Shirou understand: Uesugi Koshirō was not someone to trifle with!

"No sword? That's fine—I can lend you one."

Shirou smiled. These days, who carried swords around? He never did—he just projected them on the spot!

The moment the words left his lips, Shirou whispered, "Trace on," and in an instant pulled several katanas from behind him.

"…Where did you get those?"

Uesugi Koshirō blinked. Though old, his eyes were sharp—Shirou had no bag big enough for long swords. Was this magic?

He had heard his family once had master craftsmen in the Age of Gods who forged blades like Spider Cutter, but he never heard of someone conjuring blades from nothing… Could this be a lost divine art?

"Just a trivial magecraft."

Shirou explained casually under Koshirō's astonished gaze, handing him a pair. "Here, fine workmanship. Hōki no Kuni Yasutsuna, Izumi-no-Kami Kanesada—faithful replicas of historic blades."

"…Miyamoto Musashi's treasured swords." Koshirō caught the weapon precisely at the guard with calloused fingers, twirling it smoothly. The answer left his lips instinctively.

His rough fingers stroked the pristine blade, cold light refracting in the rain. These blades should have lain in a museum, weathered by time. Yet now, reborn fresh in Shirou's hands, their aura was sharper than ever.

As a master of many schools, Uesugi Koshirō could feel it clearly: with such blades, a skilled swordsman would fight as if with wings, techniques flowing like an extension of the body.

Good—very good! With such weapons, today's training would be even better! Koshirō caressed the blade, eyes gleaming with joy like a lecher spotting a voluptuous beauty.

"Koshirō-san, are we sparring or not?"

Shirou called from not far away.

In his hands were also Musashi's swords. Since it was Niten Ichiryū sparring, both must use Musashi's swords for the spirit of it. He set a restriction: during this training, he would not use Noble Phantasms, only technique, sharpening his control.

He recalled the Five Rings' secrets and tried to manifest just one of the elements with his stance…

Across from him, Uesugi Koshirō watched Shirou assume a Niten Ichiryū stance he had never seen before. With both swords lowered, his posture was full of openings, riddled with flaws. Koshirō chuckled. "Shirou, that's the pose of a complete amateur."

"Yes!"

Shirou admitted it himself—before he figured out a new move, wasn't he indeed just fumbling?

The rain roared, merging with the crash of waves. The air was thick with water vapor, soaking their clothes to the bone.

Then—Water Form!

Shirou's eyes lit up. His arms moved, his blades became an extension of his body, whirling into motion.

Once he began, his posture transformed. From a clueless amateur, he became a master, strikes flowing with sharp precision.

Before Koshirō's stunned eyes, Shirou's blades carved blazing arcs, drawing out the water element itself. Slashes surged, calling forth waves.

"The Book of Five Rings… Water Form: Twin Rivers White Path!"

Once he caught the inspiration, his blades moved faster and faster.

The elemental current grew wilder—two blades swung together, unleashing twin torrents like raging silver rivers. The waves roared, crashing skyward, shattering against the coast in thunderous spray.

Uesugi Koshirō: ?!

You dare call this Niten Ichiryū?!

(End of Chapter)

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