When Emiya Shirou returned to the Yorifis estate, he immediately sensed several mana signatures rippling through the air.
The young boy stood calmly at the entrance, his eyes steady and cold—no longer the timid child he once pretended to be. Now, his gaze radiated absolute resolve.
As expected, even with the distance, the massive mana surge he had unleashed earlier hadn't gone unnoticed.
The magi of the Yorifis family had been roused from their sleep—
And they had noticed his absence.
> "Where have you been, Shirou Nazele Yorifis?"
An aged voice rang out.
Luvreyus Nazele Yorifis, the head of the family, stepped forward from the shadows.
> "My name is Shirou,"
Shirou replied coolly.
He was no longer afraid.
Not even of Luvreyus, the patriarch of the Yorifis, one of the Twelve Lord Families of the Clock Tower.
> "Boy, do you even understand what you're saying?!"
A furious middle-aged man stormed toward him.
Cydra Nazele Yorifis—livid with rage—swung a palm toward Shirou's face.
But Shirou's magic circuits flared, and he easily dodged the blow.
His mana surged, and his tiny fist launched straight at Cydra's chest.
> Boom!
Caught completely off guard, Cydra activated his defensive circuits just in time—
But Shirou's punch shattered the barrier and sent him flying.
He hit the ground hard, humiliated.
> "What the hell is going on with this kid?!"
Luvreyus's wrinkled face twisted in shock.
He could tell—Shirou had used his mana to enhance his body, dodging with supernatural speed and strength, then retaliating with force powerful enough to knock back an experienced magus.
How could this be possible?
A child from an ordinary background… even a prodigy with fifty-one magic circuits shouldn't be able to do this after just one week of learning magecraft.
Cydra's face was equally horrified.
> "One more time—I am Shirou. Don't attach your filthy family name to me.
You're not worthy."
Shirou's voice was still young, but the weight behind it froze everyone in place.
> Was this really the timid, obedient child they had adopted?
No.
That boy was gone.
What stood before them now was something entirely different.
> "You—!"
Everyone in the room was burning with fury.
Even Luvreyus, normally composed, felt rage stir inside him.
They were noble magi, descendants of a Lord family.
And now, a mere child was defiling their name—denouncing it to their faces.
> "Seize him!"
Luvreyus roared.
Cydra and several Yorifis magi prepared to strike.
> "You think just because you've learned a bit of magecraft, you can act however you like?!
You're nothing but a beginner! How laughable!"
Cydra lunged.
He would reclaim his dignity with this fight.
A week of training? So what?
This kid couldn't have learned that much.
> "Projection."
Shirou's circuits flared.
A silver longsword appeared in his hand.
It was a sword belonging to a knight he'd seen in the Clock Tower's artifact vault.
As long as he had seen it, he could replicate it.
Of course, divine-class Noble Phantasms couldn't be perfectly copied. Even if they could, they would lack the full power of the original.
His mana surged again. More circuits lit up.
He bent his knees, gripping the sword with both hands.
His six-year-old body looked far too small to wield such a weapon—but the contrast only made him seem more fearsome.
> Crack!
The ground split as Shirou dashed forward and swung.
Cydra raised a barrier with a shout.
> CRACK!
But the slash ripped through it like paper.
Blood sprayed.
Cydra was cut down in one stroke.
He died instantly—one of the Clock Tower's seasoned magi, slain by a single blow.
The air fell deathly silent.
Everyone felt it—the terrifying mana still rising off Shirou's body. It made their skin crawl.
> "This feels… strange."
Shirou muttered, looking at the blood on his blade and the few drops on his arm.
He could feel his emotions start to stir—his hands wanted to shake—but he shut it all down.
This was the first time he had ever killed someone.
But he had to.
In this world, hesitation meant death.
To survive, to protect others—he had to be willing to kill.
> To save Sakura…
He would inevitably be pulled into the Holy Grail War.
And if he couldn't kill, then he'd be the one to die.
He had to grow—fast.
Because in this world, only those who seized their fate could survive.
---
> "Impossible… that mana… who are you?!"
Luvreyus's voice trembled.
In that moment, he realized—he knew nothing about this boy.
Shirou wasn't just a genius with unusual talent.
He was something far more dangerous.
> "Serve me… or die."
Shirou pointed his sword at Luvreyus.
> "You want the House of Yorifis to bow before you?!
You're dreaming!"
Luvreyus bellowed.
> "The king of the dead, the lingering power of this world—"
He pressed his thumb to an ancient ring on his hand.
It cracked.
Suddenly, Cydra's corpse—now clad in heavy black armor, engulfed in black mana, and holding a silver sword—rose to its feet.
> "Necromancy?"
Shirou's eyes narrowed.
So this was the power of a Twelve Lord Family…
Luvreyus's mastery of magecraft was indeed formidable.
The dark warrior radiated terrifying power. Under Luvreyus's control, it lunged toward Shirou, its blade cutting through the air with enough force to shred the surroundings.
> BOOM!
Shirou's mana flared once more.
Mana Burst.
It surged skyward, erupting in waves that shook the entire estate.
His strength—amplified by limitless mana—soared beyond anything Luvreyus had expected.
His silver blade gleamed, and the next moment—
> CLASH!!!
The black warrior was cleaved in two.
---
> "What… what the hell is this…?!"
The magi of the Yorifis family stood frozen in terror.
Luvreyus had summoned a remnant of an ancient Heroic Spirit's power—a force far beyond what most magi could ever handle.
And yet…
A child had annihilated it in one blow.
If they weren't witnessing it with their own eyes, none of them would have believed it.
---
> "I am the avatar of Angra Mainyu—the incarnation of All the Evils of This World.
Swear fealty to me… or die."
Shirou's expression was cold, his tone devoid of emotion.
Mana erupted around him again.
The presence of Angra Mainyu—so vile, so dark—spread like a curse.
Even their souls trembled at the pressure.
> "A-Angra Mainyu…?"
Luvreyus's voice cracked.
Of course he'd heard of it—the source of all evil, the darkest myth in magecraft history.
Now, facing this vast, choking pressure—this nightmare made real—he felt all resistance collapse inside him.
He understood now.
This boy was no ordinary child.
He was the incarnation of a god of darkness, a fragment of the fallen divine.
> A demon god had descended.
It was the only explanation.
His mana, his composure, his presence—none of it belonged to a six-year-old child.
This was no longer a matter of logic.
Shirou was Angra Mainyu—a being no magus could dare oppose.
And at that moment, Luvreyus—who had lived for decades, perhaps centuries, who had ruled as a noble and magus—
felt true fear.
The longer you live, the more afraid you become of losing everything.
And now, staring down the child of evil incarnate,
he feared for his life more than ever before.
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