He tore through the Holy Grail War, and you still call him a dragon?

"Shirou!"

As the trio approached the medical research facility, a flash like a serpent leaping through the rainy night struck Emiya's back like lightning.

"You're okay, right?"

Peeking over his shoulder, Wazhu's face emerged, blinking. Her cheeks still showed signs of fatigue—clearly from managing the whole operation and dealing with the noble houses. It had drained her.

"I'm fine, I'm fine! Just burned through a lot of mana, that's all…"

"That's good," Wazhu exhaled in relief. "I thought the Chen family laid a trap—like even preparing the Dragon Severing Altar…"

Emiya turned, startled to see Zhou Yuxuan standing off to the side, quietly carrying the massive Dragon Severing Altar.

"Huh? But I thought activating that thing required a huge price to unseal…?"

"Hmph!" Wazhu puffed her cheeks. "It can talk to you, can't it? So you can negotiate. I told it—if we go through all the procedures and miss the rescue window, there'll be no one left who can repair its blade in the future! So…"

"So you threatened it…" Emiya couldn't believe the altar's bottom line was so flexible.

"It's a family relic older than any elder. Everyone in the clan worships it—what's wrong with asking it to help out when it matters most?"

Wazhu still fumed remembering how she argued with that stubborn antique for two days and nights just to activate it. Then she changed the subject: "Right, what happened down in the center's basement?"

Jōde Mai and Zero exchanged glances. They both looked at Emiya—best to let the one who fought explain.

"I encountered someone that seemed like Odin—the one from Norse mythology—but he turned out to be a fake with only partial power." Emiya replied gravely.

"A Norse god? In the Chen estate?" Wazhu latched onto the key detail. "So the Western factions are interfering again?"

"Most likely. We should investigate the Nordic noble houses. The mastermind behind this probably has ties there."

Wazhu reached out, brushing dust and rain from Emiya's face. "Shirou, leave dealing with those meddling Westerners to me. There's a house in that region… already suspicious."

Among the Norse hybrid families, none were more famous than the Shigurudo-ke (Sigurd Family), one of the Secret Party's Elder Houses. Their ancestor Sigurd was said to be descended from Odin—just like how the Zhou family traced lineage back to Nuwa.

So when a suspect Odin figure suddenly appeared in the Chen estate, how could the Sigurd Family—descendants of Odin—claim innocence?

Of course, Odin had many descendants, so the accusation wasn't foolproof. Also, Odin's true identity as a Dragon King was a well-guarded secret. But none of that mattered. The point was to push the conflict back toward the Secret Party.

'Including Gattuso, the Secret Party's reach has gone too far. Time to stir up their home turf,' Wazhu thought.

She had to start planning for overseas deployment.

BOOM!

A sudden lightning strike cracked the sky, interrupting everyone's thoughts. The bolt lit up shadows approaching swiftly in layers.

The figures wore black cloaks with hoods. Their exposed skin was dry and stretched tight over bone. Hollow eye sockets flickered with ghostly fire—like ghouls from the abyss.

In Norse myth, Odin sent Valkyries across the lands to collect souls of the fallen for Valhalla. There, the spirits drank, fought, and died again in eternal training for Ragnarök.

But these creatures Odin now commanded weren't Eirei (Heroic Spirits). They looked more like undead forged through corpse-guard techniques. They weren't destined for divine battle—they were mere tools.

Their hollow faces stayed hidden beneath hoods. In two orderly lines, they flanked Odin's throne with chilling discipline.

A white-haired girl lay collapsed near the throne.

Odin had no mercy for Nono, the one who tried to assassinate him. Whether or not she realized it, he had always been the one behind Chen's father.

Even if the heavens themselves decried it, she was just an experiment. Drugged or not, she was still only capable of bullying low-grade hybrids. Challenging a king was suicide.

Now that she had consumed the bloodline serum, her body was veering into dangerous instability—no longer valuable.

Nono lay helplessly as Odin's hoofbeats grew distant. Darkness thickened around her. That man was dead, yet a godlike figure now stood behind him.

A being so powerful it felt untouchable.

Was fate mocking her? Was this the price of rebellion?

"You want to turn back? You still can, you know."

A young boy's voice echoed oddly in her head. No figure, just the sound of footsteps.

"Retreat to the edge of the estate. There's someone named Fujiwara Shin'nosuke—he's from the Gattuso family. If you seek him out, he'll be overjoyed to take you to their headquarters. You'll become the next matriarch of the prestigious Gattuso family."

"But the door to truth will close forever."

"Move forward, and that option vanishes. So, what's your choice?"

"..." Nono thought she couldn't even move forward or back. Her injuries were dragging her toward death… Odin may not have cared, but he didn't hold back either.

If she could move… she'd rather die moving forward. No, not because she was noble—hell no, she hadn't lived enough yet. The truth? She didn't want to marry into some trash family and become another idiot.

"You'd rather face a god than lose yourself?" the boy giggled. "Then that's your choice. Sleep now. When you wake, what you seek will be closer."

His footsteps and faint humming faded.

Nono forced her eyes open. She couldn't see the boy—but in the misty rain, she glimpsed a red-haired man running.

He held a plain bow, weaving through the darkness.

Suddenly, distant artillery fire shook the land. Blinding explosions tore through the undead ranks.

'What the hell—who brought a cannon?!'

That was Nono's final thought before losing consciousness.

(End of Chapter)

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