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

Nono quickly gave up trying to recall where she had seen that mask before. The black hole above the heavens stole all her attention.

The ritual beneath her feet, layer upon layer of sacrifice—it was all clearly meant for that gaping void in the sky.

As offerings continued, souls poured into the blood pool, boiling like magma, shrieking like shattering bronze, wailing like infants—until they fell silent and merged together.

From the god's perspective, Nono watched as human souls were received, refined, consumed—effortlessly, naturally, as if eating and drinking. This was a sovereign of the soul's domain.

Human souls, it seemed, were nothing but food at the gods' table.

And the god was picky. Inferior offerings were discarded, tossed into writhing shadows where they were twisted into monsters of every shape and size. Their humanity gone, their souls polluted, they staggered mindlessly into the world to rampage.

But the "finest" souls, glowing gold, were plucked like ripe fruit and fed into the black hole.

The abyss devoured all, darker than Yomi itself.

Nono stared only a moment before recoiling—her whole being threatened to be sucked away.

"World Tree, hear me! Etch the myths of mankind into truth, into the Throne of the Gods!"

So the souls were fed to emptiness, to fuel some unseen record.

Nono tilted her head. World Tree? Myth? What was happening?

The torrent of souls flowed into the void endlessly, never filling it.

"Not enough… human souls are not enough. More Heroic Spirits are required, to interfere with the higher record…"

The god's voice tinged with regret.

This was still far from divinity—far from turning a spirit core into a god core.

Nono's sidewriting flared, probing deeper. She heard the unconscious chant of the souls: Taichi, Chaos, Brahma, Tiamat, Izanami…

Myths of the world, sung in a single god-tongue. From creation to apocalypse, all for the Mother of Creation.

Visions surged through her—Chaos born of void, Tiamat's flood, Yomi's gates torn open, Izanami bringing ruin.

Nono groaned, her spirit wavering under the flood of myth.

Then suddenly—the god turned.

"You… a lowly copy. You dare pry into me?"

The vision shattered.

Golden eyes bore down, drowning her like a storm tide.

The dream broke apart.

Nono jolted awake, sweat soaking her.

Melusine rushed in. "Are you all right?"

Nono shook her head, then frowned at Melusine's expression. "What's wrong?"

"The world outside is engulfed. Reality itself is being eroded," Melusine said gravely. "Boundaries blur. Fantasies… are becoming real."

"Fantasies?"

Nono shivered, recalling the dream. She dressed quickly, checked her phone. A message from Shirou: Tokyo is under the black fog. Be careful. Watch for monsters. Has it spread to Yokohama?

She typed back—but his phone was "out of range."

Her face darkened. "Melusine, take me up."

A moment later, Melusine swatted down a flying monster and carried Nono to the rooftops.

"Hell on earth…"

Nono's heart sank. Beasts of every shape prowled—bears, wolves, cats, tearing through houses, devouring people. Her dream, now reality.

She realized then: it hadn't been a dream at all. Her sidewriting had evolved—almost into clairvoyance.

"What is that?" She pointed toward the bay.

A massive shadow loomed, surfacing—a towering, black-skinned giant, like the "Umibōzu" of legend.

Melusine soared higher. Jets shrieked through the clouds, swooping on the monster.

Cannons roared, bombs fell, waves boiled into steam—but the Umibōzu emerged unscathed, eyes glowing gold.

It spat a blue beam that tore the sky apart, vaporizing two jets instantly.

Weapons of man were useless.

"Melusine, kill it," Nono ordered.

"And the others?"

Monsters swarmed endlessly from Tokyo, a tide without end. Melusine frowned.

"Not all. Just that one. Afterward—we find Shirou."

——

"Curse Phase: Blazing Heaven!"

The fox-eared woman laughed, unleashing a wall of fire.

Shirou flipped back, the blast tearing through the mirrored world. This was no reality, but a bounded field—the woman's personal mirror-space.

He suspected her identity. Tamamo-no-Mae.

And this must be her Noble Phantasm—Suiten Nikō Amaterasu Yano Chinseki. A field where her mana cost returned to zero.

"Avenger!" he called. "See her weakness yet?"

Ugly Gozen's lightning armor crushed ice spears to steam.

"…Only one mirror is real. The one in her hand."

"Thought so. Her Chinseki."

The two spoke openly, hardly acknowledging their foe.

"Hey! I heard that!" the fox-girl pouted. Her ears twitched, tails flicked. "I'm Amaterasu, not some fox demon!"

Shirou eyed the ears, the tails. He recalled the syncretism of gods and spirits—Amaterasu, Dakini, Inari… Tamamo's ties weren't new.

Ugly Gozen frowned. "She does have divine aura… but Amaterasu shouldn't look like this."

"Mi-gu! The ears and tails are just accessories!" she huffed, stomping her geta.

With zero cost, her spells rained endlessly: fire, ice, thunder, storms.

Shirou and Gozen fell back under the barrage.

Shirou loosed a storm of arrows. Gozen answered with thunderous plasma.

"Mi-gu! You're making me angry!"

She was indeed Amaterasu—the original. Long ago, she and Tsukuyomi had sealed Susanoo, sacrificing themselves. Now the White King had summoned them back as weapons.

But because she'd resisted at first, she had been bound in this "fox guise" as punishment. If she defied again, she would be stripped of godhood, reduced to a nine-tailed beast.

Inside, she seethed. To be forced into this farce—when she had dreamed of reincarnation, of ordinary happiness.

Shirou frowned. "She's too weak. The real Amaterasu wouldn't be like this…"

Tamamo sniffed. "There are no real gods! Only Mother seeks that throne—"

She bit her tongue. Too late. The truth slipped.

"What do you mean?"

Shirou's eyes narrowed. Was this world a cut branch, like a Lostbelt—where gods never existed? If so, humanity should have ended long ago. Yet it hadn't… why?

"Anyway, talk time's over!" Tamamo forced a smile, flaring with power.

"Curse Phase—Jewel Heaven Collapse!"

A punch faster than sound ripped space apart.

"Impossible—she can fight close range?!"

Ugly Gozen countered, armor shattering as she unleashed her full divinity, lightning crackling through her twin blades.

Their clash split the mirrored world, shockwaves tearing space.

Tamamo grinned, chanting again. "Tokoyo Crack—Great Killing Field!"

Space imploded, collapsing in on itself.

"Not good!" Shirou dragged Gozen clear, dodging as the world shrank around them.

"This can't last. Let me summon the Ox King and crush her—"

"Wait. I have an idea."

Shirou's eyes burned golden.

"I am the bone of my sword—"

Blades erupted across the mirrored ground, countless swords sprouting like a forest.

——

Outside, Tamamo giggled, watching them inside her mirror.

"Play along, just a little longer… then I'll release you. That should satisfy Mother."

She clapped, ready to end the show.

A beam freed Shirou and Gozen from the mirror.

"Well done! You're as strong as Mother feared!" she said in flat tone, pretending.

But Shirou only scowled, as though robbed of momentum.

"Since it's over, I'll be going—"

"Not so fast."

An arrow blasted before her. Lightning split the ground at her side.

Tamamo froze. Why don't they realize I'm helping them!? Why won't they just let me leave!?

She sighed, raising the mirror. "Are you sure? This bounded field is eternal, an infinite cycle."

Shirou grinned. "Perfect. Then let's keep fighting—until I've mastered Unlimited Blade Works!"

(End of Chapter)

[Check Out My P@treon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][[email protected]/euridome]

[Thank You For Your Support!]