Sif2
The Dragon Behind the Curtain
Cid Kagenou vs. the Holy Grail War (Continued)
PART V: DIVINE CHAOS
"What situation?" Rin demanded, immediately shifting from academic curiosity to battle-ready magus.
"Well," Lucoa smiled brightly, "a young woman with purple hair and a blindfold just arrived at the front gate, demanding to speak with 'the one who summoned the dragon goddess.' She has quite an interesting magical signature—like a walking collection of worms, really. Most unpleasant."
"Matou," Rin whispered, her face paling slightly. "Sakura's family. That must be her Servant, Rider."
"Medusa," Lucoa confirmed with a nod. "Lovely girl, terrible family situation. Anyway, she's getting rather impatient, and Shirou is trying to negotiate while Artoria looks increasingly murderous, so we should probably head down before things get messy."
Cid nodded, instinctively adjusting his posture to something more befitting a shadow master facing a new challenge. "The pieces continue to gather. Lead the way."
As they descended to the main courtyard, Cid observed the tense standoff. At the property's entrance stood a tall woman with long lavender hair, wearing a black bodysuit with a blindfold covering her eyes. Despite the covering, her head tracked their movement with perfect awareness. Beside her stood a young woman with purple hair and a gentle demeanor that seemed at odds with the dangerous aura surrounding her.
Shirou stood halfway between the house and the gate, with Artoria positioned slightly ahead of him in a protective stance. Illya watched from the porch, Berserker's massive form looming behind her like a mountain of muscle.
"Ah, there you are," the blindfolded woman said as Cid approached, her voice a sultry contralto that sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. "The anomaly who disrupted the war's pattern. You're... not what I expected."
"The shadow defies expectation by its very nature," Cid replied automatically, stepping forward with calculated confidence.
The purple-haired girl studied him with an intensity that seemed to penetrate beyond his physical appearance. "Senpai said you're forming an alliance against the Grail's corruption. Is that true?"
"It is," Rin confirmed, her tone softening slightly when addressing the girl. "Sakura, you should join us. It's safer than remaining with Zouken."
Sakura's expression clouded at the mention of the name. "Grandfather... wouldn't approve."
"Your grandfather isn't here," Lucoa interjected cheerfully, approaching the pair with her usual disregard for tension. "And between us, I doubt he could do much against our combined strength. Especially with that little worm problem of his."
Sakura's eyes widened in shock. "How do you—"
"Ancient divine dragon," Lucoa reminded her with a wink. "I can see the infestation in your magical circuits, dear. Nasty business, but not irreversible with the right approach."
Cid watched this exchange with fascination. Lucoa's casual reference to what was clearly a deeply personal trauma for Sakura, delivered with genuine compassion rather than pity, had a profound effect on the purple-haired girl. Her shoulders straightened slightly, and something like hope flickered across her features.
"Could you really..." she began, before catching herself. "No, it doesn't matter. We came to assess the alliance, not join it."
"Actually," her Servant interjected, "we came because I sensed the presence of a divine entity that shouldn't exist in this era. One that could potentially disrupt the control mechanisms imposed on you."
This blunt statement earned the blindfolded woman a sharp look from Sakura, but Lucoa merely laughed.
"Perceptive! As expected from one with divine blood, even diluted through monsterfication. Yes, I could absolutely help with those nasty worms. They're magical constructs, after all, and rather crude ones at that. Hardly a challenge for someone who remembers when magic itself was first conceptualized."
Cid, sensing an opportunity to appear all-knowing, stepped forward. "The shadow has foreseen your arrival, Medusa of the Gorgon sisters. Your Master's affliction is but one thread in the greater tapestry we seek to unravel."
The blindfolded woman—Medusa—tilted her head curiously. "You speak with great confidence for one so young and untrained."
"Age is irrelevant to one who exists between moments," Cid declared, warming to his role. "The shadow perceives what others cannot."
Medusa's lips curved into a subtle smile. "Interesting. You remind me of the oracle at Delphi—speaking in riddles that contain more truth than you yourself comprehend."
Before Cid could respond to this uncomfortably accurate assessment, Shirou intervened with his characteristic directness.
"You're both welcome to join us," he said simply. "We have plenty of room, and if Lucoa can help with whatever's wrong, isn't that worth at least talking about?"
The sincerity in his voice seemed to reach Sakura, whose resistance visibly wavered. "Senpai, it's not that simple. Grandfather would—"
"Worry about Zouken Matou later," Rin interrupted firmly. "Right now, we're offering safety and potential freedom. Take it, Sakura."
A tense moment passed as Sakura deliberated, her expression cycling through fear, hope, and uncertainty. Finally, she looked to her Servant, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
"We'll... stay for dinner," Sakura decided cautiously. "To discuss options."
And just like that, the alliance grew again. Shirou immediately set about expanding his dinner preparations to accommodate two more guests, with Sakura instinctively moving to help him despite her officially uncertain status. Artoria followed them both to the kitchen, ostensibly to assist but more likely to keep watch over the new arrivals.
As the group dispersed, Cid found himself alone with Medusa, who had removed her blindfold now that they were within the property's bounded field. Her eyes, revealed to be unusual purple rectangles reminiscent of a reptile's, studied him with ancient intelligence.
"You are a paradox," she stated without preamble. "Your magical signature fluctuates between ordinary human and something... else. Something that shouldn't exist within the established rules of this world."
Cid maintained his composure, crossing his arms in what he hoped was a mysterious manner. "The shadow exists beyond conventional classification."
"So you keep saying," Medusa replied with a hint of amusement. "Yet I wonder if you understand what that truly means."
Before he could formulate an appropriately cryptic response, she stepped closer, moving with inhuman grace. "Your Servant is no ordinary Heroic Spirit. She exists partially outside the Grail's framework, as do you. That makes you both dangerous... and valuable."
"The shadow recognizes your perception," Cid acknowledged, unsure where this conversation was heading but committed to maintaining his persona.
Medusa's lips curved into another subtle smile. "I served gods once, before becoming monstrous in their eyes. I recognize divinity when I encounter it... and something about you resonates with powers far beyond your apparent nature."
She leaned closer, her face inches from his, those inhuman eyes studying him with predatory intensity. "I look forward to discovering what you truly are, Cid Kagenou. Or should I call you... Shadow?"
With that cryptic statement, she turned and glided toward the house, leaving Cid with the unsettling feeling that she saw through his performance more clearly than anyone except perhaps Lucoa.
Dinner that evening was a surreal experience. Eight participants in a magical death match gathered around Shirou's dining table, sharing food and conversation as if they were ordinary acquaintances rather than enemies temporarily united against a greater threat.
The meal itself was exceptional—Shirou's culinary skills proving worthy of the legendary appetites he was serving. Artoria and Lucoa engaged in what could only be described as a friendly eating competition, consuming portions that would have fed a small army with elegant determination.
"This is delicious, Shirou!" Lucoa exclaimed, finishing her fourth serving of curry. "You have a gift for infusing food with positive energy. That's quite rare, you know—cooking with both technical skill and genuine care."
Shirou blushed slightly at the praise. "It's nothing special. I just enjoy making food that people like."
"Don't underestimate your talents," Cid interjected, momentarily forgetting his Shadow persona in his appreciation for the meal. "A chef who can satisfy the appetites of legends and gods possesses power beyond ordinary measure."
This uncharacteristically straightforward compliment earned him curious looks from around the table, particularly from Lucoa, whose mismatched eyes twinkled with amusement.
"Well said, Master," she commented. "Perhaps the shadow occasionally steps into the light to acknowledge simple pleasures?"
Cid quickly recovered, deepening his voice. "Even the darkness appreciates artistry in all its forms. The shadow's reach encompasses all aspects of existence."
"Does he always talk like that?" Sakura whispered to Rin, who nodded with resigned amusement.
"Always," Rin confirmed. "You get used to it. Surprisingly, he actually makes sense if you listen carefully."
As the meal progressed, the conversation inevitably turned to strategy. The alliance now included five of the seven Master-Servant pairs, with only Caster's team and one unknown pair remaining outside their coalition.
"Caster said she would respond by midnight," Rin reminded them, checking her watch. "That gives us three more hours to prepare for either her addition to our alliance or potential hostilities."
"And what of the seventh pair?" Artoria asked, finally setting down her chopsticks after what appeared to be her final serving. "We know nothing of their identity or capabilities."
"Actually," Medusa spoke, her voice low and melodic, "I encountered the seventh Servant two nights ago. Lancer—a man with blue hair and a red spear. Irish, from his accent and fighting style. Extremely fast, even by Servant standards."
"Cú Chulainn," Lucoa identified immediately. "The Hound of Ulster. Fascinating choice for the Lancer class—his Gáe Bolg is a conceptual weapon that reverses causality to ensure a fatal strike to the heart."
"You seem to know a great deal about Heroic Spirits for one who isn't one yourself," Illya observed, her crimson eyes narrowed slightly.
Lucoa shrugged, her generous assets bouncing with the motion in a way that made several people at the table avert their eyes. "When you've been around as long as I have, you tend to encounter most legends at their source. I met Cú during his actual lifetime—such a charming young man, if a bit intense. That curse of his was particularly troublesome."
This casual reference to having personally known a figure from Celtic mythology thousands of years ago reminded everyone of just how ancient and powerful Lucoa truly was beneath her cheerful exterior.
"So," Shirou summarized, bringing the conversation back to practical matters, "we have Caster deciding whether to join us, and Lancer still unaccounted for. What's our next move?"
All eyes turned to Cid, who had somehow become the de facto leader of their unlikely alliance despite being arguably the least qualified person at the table. He took a moment to consider, drawing on his extensive consumption of fantasy narratives to construct a plan that would sound suitably profound.
"We must address the corruption at its source," he declared, leaning forward slightly for dramatic effect. "The Greater Grail lies beneath Mount Enzou, within the caverns that house the ritual's foundation. We will infiltrate this sacred ground and assess the extent of the taint directly."
To his surprise, this improvised strategy was met with thoughtful nods rather than skepticism.
"That's... actually a solid plan," Rin admitted. "We've been working with secondhand information about the Grail's corruption. Seeing it ourselves would help us develop a more effective countermeasure."
"Mount Enzou is heavily protected," Illya pointed out. "The Einzbern, Tohsaka, and Matou families established numerous boundary fields and traps to prevent unauthorized access to the Greater Grail."
"I grew up in the Einzbern castle," she continued. "I know most of the defenses, but not all of them."
"And I can provide information on the Tohsaka protections," Rin added.
All eyes turned to Sakura, who shifted uncomfortably under their collective gaze.
"I... don't know much about the Matou defenses," she admitted quietly. "Grandfather never shared such information with me."
"No matter," Lucoa said cheerfully. "Between my divine perception and Cid's... unique approach to magical barriers, I doubt conventional protections will pose much challenge."
Cid nodded sagely, having no idea what his "unique approach" might entail but confident that Lucoa would cover for any deficiencies in his actual abilities.
"We'll go tomorrow night," he decided, adopting his most commanding tone. "The shadow moves best in darkness, and the moonless night will provide optimal conditions for our infiltration."
With the plan established, the gathering began to disperse for the evening. Sleeping arrangements were determined—the girls would share the rooms in the east wing, the males in the west, with Servants either materializing near their Masters or keeping watch as needed.
As Cid prepared for bed in his assigned room, a soft knock came at his door. Opening it, he found Lucoa standing in the hallway, now dressed in what could generously be described as sleepwear—a thin silk camisole and shorts that left little to the imagination.
"May I come in?" she asked, though she was already gliding past him before he could respond. "We should discuss tomorrow's expedition privately."
Cid nodded, carefully maintaining his composure despite Lucoa's distracting attire. "The shadow welcomes your counsel."
Lucoa settled on the edge of his futon, patting the space beside her in invitation. When Cid hesitantly sat down, she fixed him with one of her rare serious expressions.
"You've been magnificent today," she said, her voice warm with genuine approval. "Leading this alliance, devising strategies, maintaining your persona without faltering... I'm impressed, Cid. Truly."
The unexpected praise caught him off guard, momentarily cracking his Shadow facade. "I'm just making it up as I go," he admitted quietly. "I have no idea what I'm doing in this war."
"And yet," Lucoa smiled, "everything you suggest seems to align perfectly with what needs to be done. It's as if you're unconsciously tapping into knowledge you shouldn't possess."
She studied him thoughtfully, her mismatched eyes seeming to see beyond his physical form. "There's more to you than even you realize, Cid Kagenou. Your belief in your shadow persona isn't just a psychological quirk—it's becoming a metaphysical reality in this world."
"What do you mean?" Cid asked, genuinely confused.
"This reality operates on different rules than your home world," Lucoa explained. "Here, belief and narrative have tangible power. The more you commit to your role as 'Shadow,' the more this world reshapes itself to accommodate that identity. It's fascinating to watch."
Before Cid could process this revelation, another knock came at his door. Opening it, he found Rin standing in the hallway, clutching what appeared to be magical research equipment.
"I thought we could begin those tests I mentioned—" she began, before noticing Lucoa lounging on Cid's futon. Her expression immediately shifted to suspicious irritation. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Not at all!" Lucoa said brightly, patting the futon on her other side. "Join us! We were just discussing Cid's unique magical properties. I believe they align with your theory about belief-based reality manipulation."
Rin hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the casual invitation, but her academic curiosity eventually won out. She entered the room, carefully setting her equipment on the floor before reluctantly sitting beside Lucoa.
"I've been researching similar phenomena," she admitted, pointedly focusing on her equipment rather than Lucoa's revealing attire. "There are historical precedents for magic systems based on pure conceptual belief rather than traditional circuits and elements."
"The Aztec priests used something similar," Lucoa confirmed. "Their beliefs literally shaped the gods they worshipped, creating a feedback loop of divine manifestation and human faith."
As they delved deeper into magical theory, yet another knock interrupted their discussion. This time, it was Sakura, holding a tray with tea and snacks.
"I thought you might... oh!" She stopped short at the sight of the three already gathered in Cid's room, her cheeks coloring slightly. "I didn't realize you had company, Kagenou-san."
"The more the merrier!" Lucoa declared before Cid could respond, waving Sakura in. "We're having an impromptu research session on Cid's unique magical signature. Your perspective would be valuable, especially given the... unusual magical training in the Matou family."
Sakura's expression darkened momentarily at the reference to her family's magecraft, but she entered nonetheless, setting the tray down and hesitantly joining the growing gathering on and around Cid's futon.
The pattern continued throughout the evening. Illya arrived looking for Berserker, who had apparently wandered off after becoming fascinated by Shirou's garden shed. Artoria appeared under the pretense of security patrol but was clearly curious about the gathering in Cid's room. Even Medusa drifted in eventually, claiming to be following Sakura but displaying obvious interest in the discussion of unconventional magical theories.
By midnight, Cid found himself in the surreal position of hosting what amounted to a supernatural slumber party. His small room was filled with legendary heroes and powerful magi, all focused on dissecting the metaphysical properties of his supposedly fictional Shadow persona.
"It's like a Reality Marble that exists in the overlap between belief and actualization," Rin was explaining, sketching complex magical formulas on a notepad. "Instead of projecting an internal world outward, he's constantly adjusting external reality to match his internal narrative."
"The conceptual weight of his conviction creates localized distortions in causality," Medusa agreed, her inhuman eyes studying Cid with scientific fascination. "I've observed similar phenomena in dangerously delusional humans, though never with such consistent manifestation."
"It reminds me of the ancient gods," Lucoa mused, now braiding Illya's white hair while the small girl pretended to be annoyed despite her obvious enjoyment of the attention. "They began as concepts given form through collective belief, eventually becoming self-perpetuating entities that transcended their origins."
Cid listened to these discussions with growing bewilderment. Were they suggesting that his lifelong chuunibyou roleplaying was actually manifesting as real power in this world? That his commitment to his Shadow persona was literally reshaping reality around him?
The implications were simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying.
"Tomorrow's expedition will be an excellent test case," Artoria noted, sipping tea with perfect poise despite sitting cross-legged on the floor. "If Cid's abilities function as theorized, the boundary fields around Mount Enzou may react unpredictably to his presence."
"Or not react at all," Lucoa suggested with a mysterious smile. "Barriers designed to detect magical circuits wouldn't register Cid's conceptual manipulation as magic at all."
As the clock approached one in the morning, Shirou finally appeared at the doorway, looking bewildered at finding his entire household gathered in Cid's room.
"Um, is everything okay in here?" he asked hesitantly. "I was worried when no one was in their assigned rooms."
"We're fine, Shirou," Rin assured him. "Just discussing strategy for tomorrow."
"All of you? In Cid's room? At one in the morning?"
Lucoa laughed brightly. "Don't be jealous, Shirou! You're welcome to join us too. I was just about to suggest we all sleep here tonight. Proximity strengthens magical bonds, after all!"
Cid shot her a panicked look, which she ignored completely.
"That's... not appropriate," Artoria interjected with a slight flush to her cheeks. "We should return to our designated sleeping areas."
Despite this sensible suggestion, it took another hour before the gathering finally dispersed, with promises to continue their research after the expedition to Mount Enzou. Cid found himself alone at last, his head spinning with the evening's revelations and the bizarre social dynamics that had developed around him.
As he finally lay down to sleep, he caught himself grinning at the ceiling. Whatever was happening—whether it was his Shadow persona manifesting for real, or simply this world's magic system interacting strangely with his commitment to roleplaying—he couldn't deny that it was exactly the kind of extraordinary situation he had always fantasized about.
The ordinary boy playing at being a shadow master had somehow become the enigmatic center of a supernatural conflict involving gods, heroes, and ancient magic. It was ridiculous, improbable, and absolutely perfect.
With that thought, Cid Kagenou—the Eminence in Shadow—drifted into sleep, unaware that his dreams were subtly reshaping the fabric of reality around him, preparing the stage for what would come next.
PART VI: DIVINE INTERVENTION
The next morning dawned clear and bright, a deceptively peaceful prelude to their planned infiltration of Mount Enzou that evening. Cid awoke to the sounds and smells of breakfast being prepared, the domestic normalcy a strange counterpoint to the supernatural gathering under Shirou's roof.
After dressing in the new "shadow appropriate" clothing Lucoa had insisted on purchasing—black pants, a deep purple shirt, and a charcoal jacket with subtle silver embroidery that somehow made him look both mysterious and fashionable—Cid made his way to the dining area.
The scene that greeted him was one of organized chaos. Shirou and Sakura worked side by side in the kitchen, preparing an enormous breakfast with practiced coordination that suggested they had done this many times before. Artoria hovered nearby, ostensibly helping but primarily ensuring she would be first to sample each dish. Rin sat at the table with various magical texts spread around her, multitasking between research and sipping coffee. Illya was attempting to teach Berserker how to properly hold chopsticks, a comical sight given the massive Servant's hands dwarfed the utensils completely.
"Ah, there you are!" Lucoa greeted cheerfully, materializing beside Cid with her usual disregard for personal space. "Sleep well? Your dreams were quite vivid—all shadow kingdoms and dramatic monologues. Very on-brand!"
"You... watched my dreams?" Cid asked, momentarily dropping his persona in surprise.
"Just peeked," Lucoa admitted without a hint of shame. "Divine beings don't need much sleep, so I get bored easily. Your dreamscape is far more entertaining than most—all those elaborate shadow conspiracies and dramatic confrontations!"
Before Cid could process the implications of Lucoa casually invading his subconscious, Medusa approached, her blindfold once again covering her eyes within the now-crowded house.
"The boundary field was disturbed twice during the night," she reported without preamble. "Brief contacts at the perimeter, approximately three hours apart. Reconnaissance, most likely, by the remaining Servants."
"Caster and Lancer," Rin identified, looking up from her research. "Taking stock of our alliance, no doubt."
"Let them observe," Cid declared, stepping fully into his Shadow persona now that he had an audience. "The shadow reveals only what it wishes others to see. Their reconnaissance provides us with the advantage of predictability."
"An interesting perspective," Medusa acknowledged with the slight tilt of her head that seemed to be her equivalent of a nod. "Though I suspect our gathering is already unprecedented enough to disrupt any conventional strategic analysis."
Breakfast proceeded with the same surreal normalcy that had characterized dinner the previous night. Conversation flowed between mundane topics—Shirou's cooking techniques, Sakura's flower arrangements, Illya's complaints about Japanese television programming—and deadly serious discussions of magical theory, conceptual weapons, and tactical approaches to infiltrating an ancient mystical site.
Cid observed these interactions with fascination, noting how quickly this group of former enemies had adapted to cooperation. There was tension, certainly—Rin and Sakura exchanged looks loaded with unspoken history, Archer (who had materialized only long enough to take food to a solitary position on the roof) watched Shirou with complicated emotions, and Berserker occasionally growled when conversation touched on certain topics related to gods or immortality—but overall, they functioned with surprising cohesion.
After breakfast, preparations for the evening's expedition began in earnest. Maps were spread across Shirou's living room as Illya and Rin outlined what they knew of Mount Enzou's defenses. Sakura hesitantly contributed fragments of information gleaned from overheard conversations between her grandfather and brother. Servants discussed battle formations and contingency plans.
Throughout these preparations, Cid found himself continuously consulted on decisions both strategic and trivial. His random pronouncements, delivered in his most mysterious tone, were interpreted as profound insights regardless of their actual content. It was as if the group had collectively decided that his Shadow persona was legitimate, thereby making it increasingly real through their belief.
As afternoon approached, Cid stepped outside for a moment of solitude, needing to collect his thoughts away from the constant performance of being "Shadow." He found a quiet spot beneath a cherry tree in Shirou's garden, sitting cross-legged in a meditation pose that was more for appearance than actual meditation.
He had barely closed his eyes when he sensed someone approaching—not through any magical awareness, but simply from the slight change in air pressure and the soft footsteps on grass. Opening his eyes, he found Artoria standing before him, her expression thoughtful.
"May I join you?" she asked formally.
Cid nodded, maintaining his persona despite his desire for a break from it. "The shadow welcomes the King of Knights."
Artoria sat beside him with perfect poise, her back straight and hands resting lightly on her knees. For a moment, she simply shared his silence, gazing at the garden with contemplative eyes.
"You are not what you appear to be," she finally said, echoing Medusa's assessment from the previous day. "Yet unlike others who hide their true nature through deception, you conceal yourself through absolute commitment to a role."
Cid remained silent, unsure how to respond to this uncomfortably accurate observation.
"It reminds me of kingship," Artoria continued, her gaze distant now, seeing something beyond the physical garden. "The person disappears beneath the crown, until the role becomes more real than the individual who plays it. I understand this better than most."
"The shadow acknowledges the weight of your experience," Cid replied carefully, genuinely moved by the parallel she had drawn.
Artoria turned to face him directly, her green eyes piercing in their clarity. "Tonight, we face unknown dangers in pursuit of a corrupted holy relic. As king, I led men into battle knowing some would not return. As leader of this alliance—however accidentally you came to that position—you now bear similar responsibility."
"I... understand," Cid said, momentarily dropping his Shadow voice as the gravity of her words sank in.
"No," Artoria shook her head slightly, "I don't believe you do. Not fully. But you will." She rose gracefully to her feet. "Whatever your true nature, Cid Kagenou, you have united former enemies in common purpose—a feat I recognize as significant. For that alone, you have earned my respect and my sword."
With a formal nod that carried the weight of royal acknowledgment, she turned and walked back toward the house, leaving Cid with much to consider.
He remained in the garden for some time afterward, genuinely meditating now on the strange position he found himself in. He had spent his life playing at being a shadow master, constructing elaborate fantasies of secret powers and world-spanning conspiracies. Now, through some cosmic joke or metaphysical quirk, he was actually leading legendary heroes and powerful magi in a supernatural conflict with potentially world-ending stakes.
And strangest of all, he was apparently manifesting actual abilities through the sheer force of his belief in his own ridiculous persona.
By the time he returned to the house, his resolve had solidified. If this world was going to treat his Shadow persona as real, then he would embrace that reality fully—commit to it with every fiber of his being, not just as a performance but as an actualization of potential. He would be the Eminence in Shadow not just in name, but in deed.
The final hours before their expedition passed quickly in last-minute preparations. As twilight descended on Fuyuki City, the alliance gathered in Shirou's courtyard, ready to depart for Mount Enzou.
Cid surveyed the group, taking in the sight of legendary beings and talented magi prepared for battle. Artoria in her silver armor, invisible sword at the ready. Archer in his red cloak, expression grim and focused. Medusa in her black bodysuit, chain-daggers hanging from her wrists. Berserker, massive and imposing, stone-axe slung across his shoulders. And Lucoa, who had inexplicably changed into an outfit that resembled ceremonial Aztec regalia reimagined as modern fashion—still revealing, but with an undeniable aura of divine authority.
The Masters were similarly prepared. Shirou wore reinforced clothing and carried several projection-ready blueprints in his mind. Rin had her jewels, carefully arranged for maximum accessibility. Illya stood with regal bearing despite her small stature, her crimson eyes glowing slightly with activated magic circuits. Sakura alone seemed uncertain, standing slightly apart until Shirou gently guided her to a position within their protective formation.
"Before we depart," Cid addressed the group, his voice carrying the weight of his newly reinforced commitment to his role, "know that whatever we encounter beneath Mount Enzou, the shadow has foreseen it. Trust not just in your individual strengths, but in our collective purpose."
It was the kind of generic pre-mission speech found in countless fantasy narratives, but delivered with such conviction that it seemed to resonate at a level beyond mere words. The group straightened almost unconsciously, a unified purpose settling over them like an invisible mantle.
"Well said," Lucoa approved, her mismatched eyes gleaming with something like pride. "Now, shall we proceed? The night grows short, and we have a corrupted divine construct to investigate."
They moved through Fuyuki's evening streets as inconspicuously as possible—a challenging task given their numbers and the distinctive appearances of the Servants. Lucoa had suggested a boundary field that subtly diverted attention, making them not invisible but simply uninteresting to casual observers. It worked surprisingly well, allowing them to reach the base of Mount Enzou without incident.
The mountain loomed above them, topped by Ryuudou Temple—Caster's known base of operations. Their destination, however, was not the temple itself but a hidden entrance to the cavern system beneath it, which Illya assured them would bypass most of the temple's defenses.
"The first boundary field begins fifty meters ahead," Illya informed them, pointing to what appeared to be an ordinary section of forest path. "It's designed to detect magical circuits and alert the field's creator to any intrusion."
All eyes turned to Cid, the moment of truth for the theories about his unique magical signature.
"I will proceed alone initially," he declared, stepping forward with confidence he only partially felt. "The shadow walks paths denied to others."
Without giving himself time for doubt, Cid strode directly toward the invisible boundary field. As he approached the fifty-meter mark Illya had indicated, he focused intensely on his Shadow persona—not just playing the role but believing it, embodying it completely. He was Shadow, master of darkness, manipulator of fate, untouchable by conventional magical constraints.
He felt a subtle pressure as he crossed the threshold, like walking through a spider's web—but nothing more. No alarm, no magical response, no defensive activation. The boundary field had failed to register him as a magical entity at all.
Turning back to the group, Cid allowed himself a genuinely satisfied smirk. "The path is clear. The shadow has negated the first obstacle."
"Fascinating," Rin murmured, her academic curiosity clearly piqued despite the tense situation. "His conceptual self-modification actually rendered the boundary field's detection parameters irrelevant."
"In simpler terms," Lucoa translated cheerfully, "he believed so hard that he wasn't bound by magical rules that the rules actually stopped applying to him. Quite impressive!"
One by one, the others crossed the boundary field, using various methods to mask or suppress their magical signatures. Only Lucoa approached with the same nonchalance as Cid, strolling through as if the powerful ancient enchantment were no more significant than a beaded curtain.
They proceeded deeper into the mountain's forest cover, encountering and bypassing three more boundary fields through similar means. Each successful passage seemed to strengthen both Cid's confidence and the group's collective belief in his abilities, creating a positive feedback loop that Lucoa observed with knowing amusement.
Finally, they reached a sheer rock face that appeared solid and unremarkable to ordinary perception. To magical senses, however, it hummed with powerful enchantments—the final guardian before the entrance to the cavern system.
"This is different," Illya warned, her childlike voice serious. "It's not just a detection field but an active defense. It requires a specific magical signature to open—one belonging to the three founding families."
"Which is why we brought representatives from all three," Rin noted. "Between my Tohsaka circuits, your Einzbern connection, and Sakura's Matou... integration, we should be able to trick it into opening."
As the three female Masters prepared to combine their magical signatures in the complex pattern required, a disturbance rippled through the forest behind them. The ambient sounds of night—insects, rustling
The Dragon Behind the Curtain
Cid Kagenou vs. the Holy Grail War (Continued)
PART VI: SHADOWS DESCENDING
The forest fell unnaturally silent, insects and nocturnal creatures suddenly aware of a predator in their midst. A chill wind swept through the trees, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of magic—sharp and metallic, like blood and lightning.
"We have company," Archer announced, materializing his bow with a flicker of blue energy. "Multiple hostiles approaching from the northeast."
"Impossible," Illya whispered, her crimson eyes wide. "No one should have detected us through Lucoa's concealment field."
"Unless they were already here," Medusa suggested, her chain-daggers uncoiling from her wrists with serpentine fluidity. "Waiting."
Cid stepped forward, instinctively placing himself at the focal point of their formation. His mind raced, analyzing possibilities with unexpected clarity. If this was an ambush, it had been prepared with knowledge of their destination—which meant either Caster or the unknown Master of Lancer had anticipated their plan.
"Maintain the opening ritual," he commanded, his voice carrying quiet authority that surprised even himself. "The shadow will address this distraction."
A mirthless laugh echoed through the trees, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "Such confidence from an amateur," taunted a male voice, smooth and cultured with an undercurrent of cruelty. "Let's see if it survives contact with genuine power."
From the darkness between the trees stepped a tall, elegant man with golden hair and crimson eyes that gleamed with ancient arrogance. He wore modern clothing—an expensive white jacket over a black shirt—that somehow failed to diminish his regal bearing. Beside him materialized a blue-haired man in a skintight bodysuit, holding a crimson spear that radiated deadly purpose.
"Gilgamesh," Lucoa identified, her usual cheerfulness replaced by wary recognition. "And Cú Chulainn. What an unexpected partnership."
"Dragon goddess," the golden-haired man acknowledged with a slight incline of his head. "Your presence in this era is a curiosity I had not anticipated. As is your choice of Master." His crimson gaze shifted to Cid, studying him with the detached interest one might give an unusual insect. "This boy is... not what he appears to be."
"Rich coming from you, fake Archer," Illya spat, her childlike face twisted with hatred. "You're not even a proper Servant in this war."
Gilgamesh's perfect features arranged themselves into a condescending smile. "Little homunculus, your insolence remains amusing. I am participating in this war on my own terms, as befits the King of Heroes."
"As his reluctant ally," added the blue-haired spearman—Lancer—with obvious distaste. "Some of us didn't get a choice in the matter."
Cid assessed the newcomers with practiced calculation. Gilgamesh radiated power on a scale that made even Lucoa seem restrained by comparison. This was a being accustomed to absolute authority, viewing the world and everyone in it as personal property. Lancer, despite his subordinate position, carried himself with the confident poise of a warrior who had never known fear.
"State your purpose," Cid demanded, channeling every ounce of his Shadow persona into making the simple phrase sound like an imperial decree. "The shadow has no time for interruptions."
Something flickered across Gilgamesh's face—surprise, perhaps, or a glimmer of recognition. "Your cadence is familiar, boy. You speak as one accustomed to rule, despite having no apparent claim to authority."
"The shadow needs no claim beyond its own existence," Cid replied smoothly, warming to the exchange. This was familiar territory—the verbal sparring of self-proclaimed superior beings, straight out of his favorite manga. "Power recognizes power, does it not, King of Heroes?"
A hint of genuine amusement curved Gilgamesh's lips. "Interesting. Mongrels typically grovel or bluster when addressing me. You do neither."
"If I may interrupt this fascinating alpha-male posturing," Lucoa interjected, stepping alongside Cid with a subtle but significant shift in her demeanor. The air around her shimmered with heat haze, and her shadow stretched unnaturally across the forest floor, temporarily revealing a draconic silhouette. "Why exactly are you here, Gil? Last I checked, you were content to observe this war from the sidelines."
"Plans change when anomalies appear," Gilgamesh replied, his gaze shifting between Lucoa and Cid with calculated assessment. "Your summoning disrupted the Grail's established pattern. Your subsequent alliance-building threatened to render the entire ritual meaningless. And now you seek to access the Greater Grail itself." He spread his hands in a gesture of mock reasonableness. "Surely you understand my interest."
"You want the Grail intact," Rin realized aloud. "You don't want us interfering with its manifestation."
"Clever girl," Gilgamesh acknowledged. "The corrupted Grail serves my purpose better than its purified form would. I have no intention of allowing your little coalition to disrupt those plans."
Tension crackled through the air as the two groups faced each other across the small clearing. Seven Servants, five Masters, power enough to level mountains contained in a fragile standoff.
"We don't have to fight," Shirou offered, ever the optimist. "If you would just listen—"
"Silence, faker," Gilgamesh cut him off with imperious dismissal. "Your very existence offends me. Were it not for more pressing concerns, I would eliminate you where you stand."
Cid observed this exchange with growing certainty about the dynamic. Gilgamesh wasn't here for negotiation—he was setting terms for capitulation. The King of Heroes expected them to abandon their mission or face destruction.
A conventional strategist might have sought middle ground, or attempted retreat to regroup. But Cid Kagenou had never been conventional, and the Shadow persona that was increasingly merging with his actual identity disdained such ordinary approaches.
"The shadow acknowledges your declaration," Cid stated, his voice dropping to a register that carried through the clearing like distant thunder. "And rejects it entirely."
Without warning or telegraphing, Cid moved—faster than any normal human should be capable of, crossing the space between himself and Gilgamesh in a blur of motion that even the Servants struggled to track. His right hand, clenched in a precision strike formation, thrust directly toward Gilgamesh's heart.
"Atomic."
The single word, whispered with absolute conviction, carried conceptual weight beyond its syllables. Reality itself seemed to ripple around Cid's strike, as if physical laws were momentarily suspended in deference to his belief in his own power.
Gilgamesh's eyes widened in genuine surprise—not at the attack itself, which he had anticipated from the moment of Cid's declaration, but at the nature of the strike. With inhuman reflexes, he stepped sideways, avoiding the direct impact but still receiving a glancing blow to his shoulder.
The white jacket tore not from physical force but from something deeper—a conceptual severance that separated the material from reality itself, causing it to dissolve into golden particles.
"Impossible," Gilgamesh breathed, momentarily shocked by an attack that had bypassed his divine defenses through sheer conceptual audacity. "What are you?"
"I am Shadow," Cid declared, his stance shifting to a defensive position as he prepared for the inevitable counterattack. "The Eminence that Ends."
For a suspended moment, the clearing was silent as everyone processed what they had just witnessed. Cid Kagenou, supposedly ordinary human with delusions of grandeur, had just landed a strike on Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, with an attack that operated on conceptual rather than physical principles.
Then everything happened at once.
Lancer moved with blinding speed, his crimson spear thrust toward Cid with deadly precision. "Gáe Bolg!"
The spear, invoking its true name, bent causality itself—the outcome of "pierced heart" already determined before the physical thrust. But as it approached Cid's chest, it encountered something unexpected—a narrative contradiction.
The spear that reversed cause and effect met a target whose entire existence was predicated on defying established rules. For a crucial moment, the conceptual frameworks clashed, creating a metaphysical loophole that allowed Cid to twist away from what should have been an unavoidable death.
The spear still struck, tearing through his side rather than his heart, but the wound was physical rather than conceptual—survivable, where Gáe Bolg's true strike would not have been.
"What the hell?" Lancer exclaimed, genuine bewilderment breaking through his warrior's composure. "That's not possible!"
Lucoa was suddenly beside Cid, one hand pressed to his wound while the other extended toward Lancer, freezing him in place with nothing more than a gesture. "Fascinating, isn't it?" she commented, her cheerful tone at odds with the deadly serious gleam in her mismatched eyes. "My Master continues to surprise even me."
Around them, battle erupted as the standoff shattered into chaotic combat. Artoria charged Gilgamesh, her invisible sword clashing against golden weapons that materialized from rippling portals in the air. Archer launched arrow after arrow from elevated positions, forcing Gilgamesh to divide his attention. Berserker roared his challenge, massive form crashing through the forest toward the golden king with unstoppable momentum.
"You're bleeding," Lucoa observed, examining Cid's wound with clinical detachment. "How novel! I didn't think your conceptual self-modification would allow for conventional injuries."
"Even shadows can be pierced by sufficient light," Cid managed through gritted teeth, maintaining his persona despite the pain. "The physical form remains vulnerable while the essence endures."
"Poetic and accurate," Lucoa approved, her hand glowing with soft light as she sealed his wound with casual efficiency. "There, good as new. Well, mostly. You'll have a scar—quite dashing, really, for your shadow master aesthetic."
Cid straightened, assessing the battle unfolding around them. Despite their numerical advantage, Gilgamesh was proving a formidable opponent. Golden portals opened continuously, disgorging legendary weapons that he wielded with casual mastery. Each blade hummed with its own noble phantasm, a treasury of power that seemed inexhaustible.
"We need to complete the mission," Cid decided, his tactical assessment surprisingly clear despite the chaos. "The Grail is our primary objective, not this confrontation."
Lucoa nodded, her expression serious for once. "I'll create a diversion. Get the three family representatives to the entrance."
Before Cid could respond, Lucoa stepped into the center of the clearing and began to change. Her human form dissolved like mist, revealing her true draconic nature—not as a physical transformation, but as a conceptual unveiling. She remained humanoid in general shape, but her presence expanded to fill the clearing, an aura of divine power so ancient and absolute that it momentarily paused the battle around her.
"Gilgamesh, Son of Lugalbanda," she addressed the golden king, her voice resonating at frequencies that made the earth itself vibrate. "You forget yourself. You stand not before mere Servants and magi, but before powers that witnessed the birth of your legends."
The air around her shimmered with heat, and phantom wings of light extended from her back, casting shadows that moved independently of physical laws. Her eyes—now glowing pools of blue and gold—fixed on Gilgamesh with the weight of eons.
"You were but a footnote in the divine archives when I was already ancient," she continued, each word carrying conceptual weight that physically pushed against Gilgamesh despite the distance between them. "A promising demigod among thousands. Your treasury is impressive by human standards, but laughably limited in the cosmic inventory."
For perhaps the first time in his existence, Gilgamesh seemed genuinely taken aback. His crimson eyes narrowed as he reassessed the dragon goddess with new wariness. "You overstep, dragon. Divine or not, you are bound by the Servant container in this era."
Lucoa's laughter rolled through the clearing like summer thunder. "Am I, though? Are you certain of the limits of my manifestation? Would you care to test that theory?"
As this divine confrontation unfolded, Cid moved with silent purpose, gathering Rin, Sakura, and Illya and guiding them toward the sealed entrance. The three young women, recognizing the strategic opportunity Lucoa had created, followed without question.
"We need to combine our family signatures simultaneously," Rin whispered as they reached the rock face. "Illya, your Einzbern circuits should lead, followed by my Tohsaka pattern, with Sakura's Matou integration as the binding element."
The three took position before the sealed entrance, each placing one hand on the stone surface. Magic circuits illuminated beneath their skin—Illya's a crystalline blue, Rin's a vibrant red, Sakura's a troubled purple shot through with darker elements.
"On my count," Illya directed, her childlike voice steadied by centuries of family knowledge. "Three, two, one—"
Their magic flared in unison, patterns interweaving in complex formations that represented the covenant established by their ancestors. The rock face responded, ancient enchantments recognizing the combined signature of the three founding families. Glowing lines spread across the stone, tracing a doorway that gradually solidified from magical concept to physical reality.
Behind them, Lucoa's confrontation with Gilgamesh had escalated. The King of Heroes had opened dozens of portals, each containing a noble phantasm aimed directly at the dragon goddess. Lucoa stood unmoving, her divine aura expanding to create a dome of shimmering energy around herself and the other Servants of their alliance, who had regrouped behind her.
"Go," she commanded without turning, her attention fixed on containing Gilgamesh's imminent barrage. "Complete your mission. We'll handle this distraction."
Cid hesitated, uncharacteristically torn between pressing forward with their objective and remaining with Lucoa. Something in him rebelled at the thought of leaving her to face Gilgamesh alone, despite knowing intellectually that she was far more powerful than he was.
As if sensing his conflict, Lucoa glanced over her shoulder, her divine countenance softening momentarily. "Don't worry, Master. This is hardly my first standoff with an arrogant demigod. I'll join you shortly—after I've reminded our golden friend of the proper cosmic hierarchy."
With this reassurance, Cid nodded and turned to the now-open entrance. "Shirou, Rin, Sakura, Illya—with me. The shadow leads the way."
The five Masters entered the passageway, magical lights conjured by Rin illuminating their path as they descended into the cavern system beneath Mount Enzou. Behind them, the sounds of divine confrontation faded as the entrance sealed itself once more.
The passage sloped downward at a gentle angle, carved from living rock with precision that spoke of both magical and physical craftsmanship. Ancient symbols lined the walls, glowing faintly in response to their presence.
"These are foundation markings," Rin explained, examining the symbols with scholarly interest. "Part of the original framework established by the three families to contain and channel the Greater Grail's power."
"They're eroding," Sakura observed quietly, her fingers tracing a section where the glowing patterns faded into irregular shapes. "The corruption is physical as well as metaphysical."
"It's been spreading for over sixty years," Illya confirmed grimly. "Each war accelerates the process. By now, the corruption has likely reached the core of the Greater Grail itself."
Cid listened to these explanations with growing understanding, piecing together the true nature of their mission. The Holy Grail War wasn't merely a battle for a wish-granting device—it was a desperate attempt to control or utilize a magical construct of immense power that had been fundamentally compromised at its foundation.
As they descended deeper, the air grew heavy with magical residue—decades of accumulated power and the lingering echoes of past wars. Breathing became slightly labored, and an oppressive weight seemed to press against their consciousness.
"We're approaching the main chamber," Illya informed them, her small frame moving with surprising certainty through the ancient passages. "The Greater Grail's containment vault should be just ahead."
"Wait," Shirou called suddenly, halting their progress. "Do you feel that?"
The others paused, searching for whatever had triggered Shirou's warning. Cid felt it a moment later—a subtle vibration through the stone beneath their feet, rhythmic and deliberate, like a massive heartbeat.
"Someone's already there," he realized, his tactical instincts sharpening with the proximity to danger. "The path was too clear. We were expected."
"Zouken," Sakura whispered, her face paling in the magical light. "It has to be my grandfather. He's the only one besides the three of us who would know how to access the chamber without the family signatures."
"But why would he—" Rin began, before understanding dawned in her eyes. "The worms. He's trying to connect his familiars directly to the Grail's power source."
"We need to hurry," Illya urged, her childlike face set with determination beyond her apparent years. "If Zouken Matou manages to integrate his familiars with the Greater Grail, the corruption will accelerate exponentially."
They moved forward with renewed urgency, the passage widening as they approached the central chamber. The vibrations beneath their feet intensified, accompanied now by a high-pitched keening that seemed to exist at the edge of audible range.
Finally, the passage opened into a vast cavern, so large that even the combined illumination from their magical lights couldn't reach its upper boundaries. At the center of the chamber stood a massive structure—a chalice-shaped framework of magical circuits and physical supports, suspended over a pool of darkness that seemed to absorb rather than reflect light.
This was the Greater Grail—not a cup to be held, but an enormous magical construct designed to accumulate and channel the power of fallen Servants across multiple wars. And it was clearly, visibly corrupted. What should have been circuits of pure golden light were now streaked with purple-black tendrils, like infection spreading through veins.
Before this corrupted marvel stood a hunched figure—an elderly man who seemed more desiccated corpse than living being. His body pulsed in irregular patterns, as if something beneath his skin were constantly moving and adjusting. Around him swarmed thousands of writhing worm-like familiars, forming patterns on the chamber floor that mirrored the corrupted circuits of the Grail itself.
"Zouken Matou," Rin identified, her voice tight with disgust and wariness. "Step away from the Grail."
The ancient magus turned slowly, his movement unnaturally fluid for one of his apparent age. His eyes, sunken into a face that resembled weathered parchment, gleamed with malevolent intelligence.
"Ah, the Tohsaka heir," he acknowledged, his voice a dry rasp that echoed unnaturally in the vast chamber. "And my disappointing granddaughter. How convenient that you've brought the Einzbern vessel as well. All three families, represented at this historic moment."
His gaze shifted to Cid and Shirou, narrowing slightly. "And two anomalies. Fascinating. This war continues to exceed my expectations."
"Whatever you're attempting stops now," Shirou declared, stepping forward with characteristic directness. "The Grail is corrupted. It can't grant wishes without catastrophic consequences."
Zouken's laughter was a terrible sound, more insect than human. "Foolish boy. I have no interest in wishes. I seek continuation. Perpetuity. The Grail's corruption serves my purpose far better than its intended function ever could."
As he spoke, the worm familiars at his feet began to move with greater purpose, forming concentric circles around the base of the Greater Grail. The corrupted tendrils within the Grail's structure pulsed in response, reaching downward toward the waiting familiars.
"He's attempting to merge with it," Illya realized with horror. "To use the Grail's framework as a new vessel for his fractured soul."
"Perceptive child," Zouken acknowledged with a grotesque approximation of a smile. "The Matou magic has always centered on absorption and integration. What better final evolution than to become one with a divine construct?"
Cid assessed the situation with unexpected clarity. Zouken's plan was already in motion—the connection between his familiars and the Grail's corruption growing stronger with each passing moment. Direct magical confrontation would be difficult given the old magus's specialization in absorption. They needed to disrupt the ritual itself rather than attacking its practitioner.
"Shirou, Rin," he directed, his Shadow persona fully integrated with his tactical thinking now. "Target the connection points where his familiars are linking with the Grail's base. Sakura, Illya—focus on stabilizing the Grail's original framework to reject the intrusion. The shadow will address Matou directly."
Without waiting for acknowledgment, Cid moved—not toward Zouken himself, but in a wide arc that positioned him between the ancient magus and the Grail. His movement was precise and deliberate, each step placing him exactly where he needed to be within the complex magical geometry of the chamber.
"You presume much, boy," Zouken observed, seemingly untroubled by Cid's maneuver. "What do you imagine you can accomplish against centuries of accumulated knowledge and power?"
"The shadow does not imagine," Cid responded, his voice carrying the absolute conviction that had become his greatest weapon in this world. "It knows."
With that declaration, Cid drove his fist into the stone floor at a precise point within Zouken's ritual circle. "Atomic."
The conceptual weight behind the word manifested not as destruction this time, but as severance—a fundamental disruption of the magical connections Zouken had established. The floor cracked in a perfect circle around Cid's impact point, the fissures following not physical stress lines but the conceptual boundaries of Zouken's magic.
The worm familiars nearest the impact writhed in agony, their connection to their master temporarily severed. Zouken himself staggered, his desiccated face contorting with genuine surprise.
"What are you?" he demanded, echoing Gilgamesh's earlier question. "That was not magecraft."
"No," Cid agreed, rising to his feet with fluid grace. "It was judgment."
Emboldened by Cid's successful disruption, the others moved according to his direction. Shirou and Rin targeted the remaining connection points, he with projected blades that severed magical links on contact, she with jewel-based spells that neutralized the corrupted energy flows. Sakura and Illya positioned themselves on opposite sides of the Grail, channeling their family's magical signatures to strengthen the original framework against Zouken's intrusion.
"Insolent children," Zouken snarled, his benign elderly facade dropping away as his body convulsed unnaturally. "You have no concept of what you're interfering with. The Grail's corruption is not some accident to be fixed—it is evolution. Ascension!"
As he spoke, his physical form began to dissolve, revealing the true nature of Zouken Matou—not a human magus, but a collective entity composed of thousands of familiars maintaining the illusion of humanoid form. The swarm that had been Zouken spread outward, surrounding the five Masters in a writhing circle of chitinous bodies and grasping appendages.
"Disgusting," Rin muttered, her hands glowing with prepared spells. "I always knew the Matou magic was aberrant, but this is beyond revolting."
"Grandfather," Sakura whispered, her expression a complex mixture of horror, pity, and resolve. "This ends now."
Before the swarm could close in, a brilliant light flooded the chamber from the entrance passage. The darkness that had seemed to press against their magical illumination was suddenly pushed back by a radiance that carried the unmistakable signature of divine power.
"Sorry I'm late," Lucoa's cheerful voice echoed through the cavern as she strode into view, her human form restored but surrounded by an aura of golden light that painted dramatic shadows across the ancient walls. "Gilgamesh was more persistent than expected. I had to get a bit serious with him."
Her mismatched eyes assessed the situation in an instant, narrowing at the sight of Zouken's true form. "Oh my. How unpleasant. A human who abandoned his humanity for a patchwork immortality of parasites and stolen life force." She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "There are far more elegant paths to longevity, you know."
"Dragon goddess," Zouken's voice emerged from the swarm, no longer localized to any particular section. "Your interference is unexpected but ultimately irrelevant. The process has already begun."
Indeed, despite their efforts to disrupt the connections, tendrils of corruption from the Greater Grail were still reaching downward, seeking the swarm that composed Zouken's existence. If they merged completely, there would be no separating the ancient magus from the Grail's power.
"Lucoa," Cid called, his voice steady despite the dire circumstances. "The Grail's corruption—can it be purified?"
"Purified, no," she answered thoughtfully, approaching the massive structure with analytical interest. "But contained, redirected, possibly even repurposed... yes, with the right approach."
She turned to the group, her expression unusually serious. "I need to access the Grail's core directly. Keep Worm-Man busy for a few minutes while I work out the metaphysical parameters."
Without waiting for confirmation, Lucoa launched herself upward, flying—actually flying—to the upper reaches of the Grail's structure where the corrupted circuits converged.
Left to handle Zouken's swarm, the five Masters formed a defensive circle, each facing outward toward the encroaching mass of familiars.
"Any ideas?" Shirou asked, projected swords appearing in his hands as he prepared for the swarm's inevitable attack.
"His consciousness is distributed throughout the collective," Rin analyzed rapidly. "We need to target the familiars that contain fragments of his original soul—the ones maintaining the cohesion of the whole."
"They'll be at the center of magical concentrations," Illya added, white hair beginning to float around her as she accessed her family's alchemical knowledge. "Look for familiars that pulse with deeper purple energy compared to the others."
"I can sense them," Sakura said quietly, her eyes taking on a subtle glow as she tapped into her unwilling but intimate knowledge of the Matou magecraft. "There—and there—and there." She pointed to specific points within the swarm where larger familiars directed the movement of the others.
Cid processed this information instantaneously, formulating a coordinated attack plan with surprising strategic clarity. "Rin, Illya—target the concentrations Sakura identified with area effects. Shirou, Sakura—focus on creating a barrier between the swarm and the Grail's base. I'll handle direct confrontation with the primary consciousness."
"Direct confrontation?" Rin questioned skeptically. "How exactly do you plan to confront a distributed consciousness?"
"The shadow finds what others cannot see," Cid replied, his voice dropping to the register he used for his most dramatic declarations. "Even fragmented souls leave traces that can be followed to their source."
Without further explanation, Cid stepped forward to face the advancing swarm. His posture shifted subtly, adopting a stance that seemed to exist between traditional martial arts forms—something he had developed through years of solitary training, combining elements from countless martial arts manga and his own intuitive understanding of body mechanics.
"Zouken Matou," he addressed the swarm directly. "Your existence is an offense against the natural order. The shadow delivers judgment."
The swarm surged forward in response, thousands of familiars rushing toward Cid in a living wave of chitinous bodies and grasping mandibles. But where they should have engulfed him, they instead encountered... nothing.
Cid had moved—so quickly that even Rin's trained magical perception struggled to track him. One moment he stood in the swarm's path, the next he was behind its main mass, his hand plunged deep into a