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

"His arm was cut off."

Shirou quickly stepped forward, moving the unconscious Minoru away from the edge of the pool. Blood still poured endlessly from the severed arm, flowing into the cracks of the steps below, the thick metallic stench spreading quickly.

Smelling it, Shirou's face tensed. He lifted Minoru's severed arm stump above heart level; only then did the blood loss from the heart's pumping finally slow down.

Under the dim light, Shirou squinted and examined it—smooth as a mirror, the severed edge bore scorched-black markings. It looked like a stubborn, ugly scar that could hardly be removed. Could this affect the boy's healing?

And it looked familiar.

When Nono had been pierced by Odin's Gungnir, that same mark had appeared.

Speaking of Odin… Shirou reached to his shoulder and pulled off a long arm resting there. Like the gauntlet and vambrace of a medieval knight, it was securely fixed in place.

The signs were unmistakable—this was Odin's arm.

The armor's design was old, engraved with elaborate runes—clearly reinforced through magecraft to improve its performance.

But the vambrace was incomplete. A clean slice had cut it straight through… Odin's special reinforcement hadn't been able to withstand the absolute armor-piercing nature of "Mumei Sandan Totsuki" (Nameless Three-Step Thrust). The smooth cut was like a silent mockery.

"Melusine, help me find some clean cloth."

"Okay."

Melusine lowered her head reluctantly. She didn't really want to leave Shirou's side right now.

Just moments earlier, when Shirou had been riding her at full speed, she had felt heat coursing through her whole body—like her very being was trembling in joy.

She reached back, touching her warm waist and hips, and a hot blush rushed across her face. The strange sensation left her puzzled…

Did she actually enjoy carrying someone in flight, competing with other beings in the skies?

Or was it simply the warmth of being ridden that she found so comforting?

With unanswered questions stirring inside her, Melusine headed deeper into the lab. The shadows thickened, the stench of disinfectant filling the air. She wrinkled her nose.

She glanced around at equipment she didn't understand. Even with the faint light, her sharp dragon eyes missed nothing.

It was a large laboratory divided by reinforced glass into sections: incubation tanks with clones floating inside; a control room filled with electronic equipment; a bio-lab with petri dishes and opaque containers.

In the far corner was a messy office-turned-storage room, papers piled carelessly on a desk, a half-open cabinet seemingly raided by rats.

"…"

This place felt disturbingly similar to the lab where she had been "born." The blurry memories filled her with instinctive disgust.

Disgust at those who obsessed over human experimentation.

Whoever worked here was probably nothing more than a filthy rat, or a worm hiding from the sun.

Melusine covered her nose, her footsteps echoing sharply on the floor as she muttered inwardly.

After a quick scan, she headed straight for the desk and cabinet.

——

"Hey, Minamoto, are you still at headquarters?"

Shirou pulled out his phone and dialed—it was a miracle the thing still worked after being submerged… no, after going through spatial compression. A tough phone case, clearly.

When the other side answered, Shirou said, "Did Odin come for your people? I saw someone who looked a lot like you—must be your younger brother?"

"Is that true!?" Minamoto's voice shot up. "How's Minoru!?"

"He's alive," Shirou replied, then added, "Unconscious. And… missing a certain part. Unless you attach a prosthetic, he's going to be the one-armed hero from now on."

"Ah?" Minamoto didn't get the Yang Guo reference and froze.

"Anyway, I'll send you my location. I lost Odin while chasing him, ended up here instead. You'd better send people to secure this whole place. There should be a lot to discover…"

Shirou squatted by Minoru while talking. At that moment, footsteps approached—Melusine, bringing what he asked for.

He looked up—and nearly choked.

She wasn't carrying cloth. She was carrying the entire desk and the cabinet.

The massive shadow loomed behind her tiny frame.

Shirou's mouth twitched. He wanted to say something but gave up.

Seriously? I asked for some cloth, and you brought the whole damn room?

He suddenly recalled how, back in Shenzhou, Melusine hadn't listened when first summoned. Apparently, that hadn't changed.

Maybe he hadn't trained her enough?

Boom!

The desk and cabinet crashed down, scattering papers and rattling loose items everywhere.

Shirou's face darkened.

Even Eriri was better than this! She might have lacked common sense, but she listened and tried. Melusine, on the other hand… what progress had she made at all?

And dragons were supposed to be inexhaustible balls of energy. But Melusine just lazed around sleeping half the time!

He glanced at her again—she was just staring blankly at him, lost in thought.

Shirou clenched his teeth. This wouldn't do. Leaving her to Nono's "training" wasn't enough. From now on, he'd have to discipline her personally. Nono could handle her during the day; at night, he'd take over.

"Something wrong over there?" Minamoto asked, hearing the crash.

"Nothing. Just moving things around," Shirou said while wrapping Minoru's wounds with scraps of cloth.

As he rummaged through the cabinet, his sharp eyes spotted something shoved in the back.

He pulled it out—a familiar noh mask with a grinning expression. Wasn't this… Wangjiang's?

"Minamoto, looks like this was Wangjiang's hideout. The fact that I stumbled here while chasing Odin only proves the connection between them."

He reached back in and pulled out more masks.

So many… Wangjiang must have been running a mask wholesale business. Supplying every noh theater in Tokyo, maybe?

He couldn't help but imagine Wangjiang in the underworld, trying to entertain Izanami with singing and dancing, banging clappers like a fool just to make her laugh.

Though Izanami, in myth, had been a terrifying corpse that even Izanagi fled from… what kind of scene would that be?

Knocking wooden clappers in Yomi for spiritual merit, offering performances to the goddess of the underworld…

Shirou couldn't help picturing Wangjiang collapsing mid-performance, claiming his role had ended and passing the stage to Izanami.

He snorted. "Deduct one Buddha to laugh with you," he muttered, tossing the mask back and picking up scattered papers.

The name "Herzog" leapt out at him.

"By the way, Minamoto, I just found something big. This Wangjiang's real name… might be Herzog."

"What—!" Minamoto's reply cut off. A loud crash echoed through the line.

Shirou blinked, surprised, glancing at his phone—still connected. "You okay?"

——

Far away, Minamoto, trailing behind Uesugi, had just fallen flat on his face.

The reason? Shirou's news had hit too hard.

Good news: his brother Minoru was alive.

Bad news: missing an arm.

Good news: Wangjiang's lair was found.

Bad news: Wangjiang might actually be Herzog—the former patriarch Tachibana Masamune of the Orochi clan!

The sheer implications staggered him.

"Son, you alright!?"

Uesugi rushed back. Neither knew Odin had already left; they were still looking for the battlefield.

"I'm fine. Shirou called—it's over. Minoru's with him."

Minamoto stuffed his phone away, replaying the revelation in his mind.

Wangjiang = Herzog = Tachibana Masamune.

The equation twisted with memories of his adoptive father.

Wangjiang had led the Ghosts, clashing with the family; Tachibana had always opposed them. Wangjiang had even led the Ghosts to raid Genji Heavy Industries to seize Eriri…

But all of it—Herzog's elaborate ruse!

He had pretended Wangjiang was someone else, but in truth, Wangjiang was him all along. The lab's clone reserves explained how he played two roles.

Every shred of respect Minamoto once had for him was gone. Only a rotten, manipulative monster remained.

He recalled Uesugi's constant warnings: beware Herzog's schemes. All true.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Uesugi asked, confused.

"No… I just realized you were right. I was too naive." Bitterness spread in Minamoto's mouth.

Without Shirou, without his father, without others who had guided him… he'd still be Herzog's puppet.

Even his immunity to the cursed clappers—because Herzog never bothered. He had always been the easy one to manipulate.

"Father, enough talk. Let's go get Minoru. We'll need a convoy—this place will require serious investigation."

"But what about your Servant? Didn't he still have Minoru's Servant to deal with?"

Minamoto glanced at the Command Seals on his hand, ready to summon—

But a gust of wind swept past. Watanabe no Tsuna appeared beside them.

"Forgive me, Master. Ibaraki fled, and I couldn't stop her. She mentioned something about a 'contract termination.' Might I ask—did your younger brother release her?"

(End of Chapter)

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