Shirou Emiya — Doesn't Want to Work Overtime!

"—!"

Emiya Shirou's pupils contracted sharply. The moment the demon's words fell, it had already appeared at his side.

Its claw swept down like a deadly whirlwind, aiming straight for his head.

At the exact same instant, just as Shirou raised his katana to block, a wave of killing intent—raw, suffocating, and drenched in blood—erupted behind him.

That bloodthirst… it reeked of death, the kind that only came from countless slaughters. Unhidden, unfiltered, it surged straight toward him.

No—this isn't the time to trust my eyes!

In that moment, Shirou remembered. Every time he'd attacked before, none of his strikes had landed. As the claw swung toward him, he twisted his blade mid-swing, redirecting it—

Clang—!

The demon's claw slammed against the flat of Shirou's katana with brutal force.

A sharp, ringing clash rang out.

Sparks burst like fireworks from the impact.

A moment later, an overwhelming shockwave surged through his arms. The force sent Shirou flying backward. His feet scraped across the floor, carving twin gouges into the wood, splinters flying in his wake.

CRACK—!

Before Shirou could even catch his breath, the sound of feet pounding the ground echoed again.

Propelled by sheer brute force, the demon's body turned into a streak of crimson light, hurtling straight toward him.

So fast—!

Shirou's brown eyes trembled. His grip on the katana tightened.

In the blink of an eye, the demon was in front of him again. Crimson eyes gleamed with bloodlust, and its claw—gleaming like a blade—lashed out.

Shlk—!

With a sound like tearing silk, the flesh of Shirou's arm split open under the force of the blow. The pain was blinding. Blood sprayed into the air.

A cruel grin curled on the demon's lips. Its claws glowed red in the darkness.

So that's it… Its power interferes with perception.

In that instant, Shirou finally formed a theory.

Maybe it was instinct, or maybe it was his natural ability. What the demon didn't know was that Shirou's eyes were sharper than most—especially when it came to tracking motion.

Earlier, his panic had dulled his senses, blinding him to crucial details.

But now that he was calmer, he began to notice the subtle discrepancies.

Every time he attacked… every time he blocked… his strikes were always off. A few dozen centimeters off.

It didn't sound like much—but it was enough to miss. Enough to be fatal.

And it wasn't consistent. The misalignment shifted slightly each time, making it impossible to predict.

Was this the full extent of the demon's ability? Or was it holding back?

But—

If I can't rely on my sight… then I'll rely on touch!

"—!"

Even as the deep wound on his arm bled freely, a flash of silver surged in front of him.

Shlk—!

The sound of flesh tearing echoed in the inn.

Shirou's katana bit deep into the demon's shoulder.

Blood sprayed into the air.

"You filthy insect!!"

The demon roared, its voice laced with fury. One hand gripped the blade buried in its flesh, while the other—transformed into a claw—stabbed toward Shirou's chest.

"[Trace—On]!"

Shing—!

In the next heartbeat, another katana flashed into existence in Shirou's other hand.

He slashed downward like a bolt of lightning.

"What—?!"

Shlk—!

A scream of pain was followed by the wet sound of tearing muscle. The demon hadn't expected a second blade. It didn't even have time to react.

The attacking arm was sliced clean, blood gushing like a fountain onto the floor.

But Shirou's lack of combat experience—and his unfamiliarity with opponents like this—meant his follow-up was lacking.

"My turn, human!"

The demon's fury exploded. The bloodlust in its eyes went wild—and in the instant after Shirou's blade cleaved its flesh, the severed arm regenerated.

"Die!!!"

Fsssh—!

A storm of wind exploded outward. The reborn claw slammed downward toward Shirou.

Right now, one of Shirou's swords was embedded in the demon's shoulder. The other had just finished its strike. He had no time to raise either in defense.

It's over!

The demon grinned in triumph. Human bodies were weak—injure them, and their strength crumbled.

But demons like it could regenerate endlessly. Pain meant nothing. Injury was meaningless.

If this claw hit its mark, Emiya Shirou would be torn apart on the spot.

And yet—something the demon never expected happened.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

With a blood-curdling scream, Shirou surged forward—toward the attack.

Like a beast with nothing left to lose, he charged into the demon's strike head-on, completely disregarding the incoming blow.

He looked nothing like a human now.

He looked like someone willing to die if it meant dragging his enemy down with him.

"Foolish brat!!!"