Shinji Matou at Your Service-Chapter 1031: The Blade Formation

The intense forging practice continued day and night.

Aside from the necessary breaks for food, water, and rest, the master and disciple duo poured all their time into the craft of swordsmithing. The old man was like a snow-covered mountain on the plateau, constantly melting and flowing into rivers. The young boy was like a reservoir at the base of the plateau, doing his best to store the incoming water and build his reserves.

As for the Holy Grail War, neither of them had any interest in participating.

According to the old man, what wishes could a swordsmith have?

There were only two: to forge blades that would satisfy both himself and the wielder and to pass down his skills so that future generations could stand on his shoulders and reach even greater heights. Both of these could only be achieved through his own hands, not by relying on something as vague and mysterious as the Holy Grail—that would be an insult to a swordsmith.

Shirou's thoughts were even simpler. He had been dragged into this by accident, but meeting his master and learning the peak techniques of his dreams was already a tremendous stroke of luck. There was no need to risk his life chasing after something so illusory. With the time he had, he would much rather learn more from his master.

In a way, both master and disciple were incredibly pure individuals, wholly dedicated to their craft. If this were another time and place, they might have lived in seclusion for ten years, forging blades that would become renowned throughout the world.

Unfortunately, they were in Fuyuki City, a nexus of fate and a center of conflict. Living here meant there was no peace to be had.

The arrival of Shiki and Mana not only introduced Shirou to strange new phenomena but also brought disputes and disasters.

Psychics, vampires, magi, and beasts reeking of death began to appear one after another, overloading the once-simple mind of the young Shirou and placing them all in great danger.

A tide of black beasts, strange creatures the likes of which Shirou had never seen, broke the silence of the night and shattered the peace of his once-sacred courtyard.

Despite Shiki's swordsmanship, cutting down any monster she encountered with a single slash, and his master Muramasa's unbelievable strength, fighting off a hundred beasts without faltering, they could not hold back the sheer number of enemies. The overwhelming mass of creatures exposed Shirou's immaturity and weakness, as well as Mana's helplessness in the face of the onslaught.

Slowly but surely, the ring of beasts closed in, devouring the courtyard Shirou had once considered a sanctuary. It was at this moment that the mastermind behind the attack appeared, launching an assault on Muramasa, the strongest among them.

With no other options, Muramasa detonated his Noble Phantasm, his forge, a place crucial to any swordsmith, hoping the flames that could melt any metal would kill the enemy.

Unfortunately, it was not to be. While the beast horde was annihilated, the mastermind's Chaos, akin to the primordial Sea of Life, was even more potent than the flames.

The four of them—two men, one woman, and one child—were finally driven to the brink of despair. Even the once-innocent Shirou was now completely lost.

"I'll cover the rear. Old man, take Shirou and Mana and go. I'll use this blade you forged to leave them with scars they'll never forget," said Shiki, showing a courage that surpassed even most men.

She ran her fingers along the edge of katana, Higan-kiri. The sword, now stained with blood, emitted an even more intense bloodlust. She then placed her wounded finger in her mouth, gently wiping it, causing her to glow with an eerie light under the fire's reflection.

Just as she was about to make her final charge toward the Chaos that had breached the sea of flames, a hand suddenly reached from behind, grabbing her collar and tossing her aside. In the same motion, Shirou and Mana were also thrown away. The only one left standing in place was the burly old man, his face still carrying its usual sharp but somewhat sarcastic smile.

"You're a pretty little girl, but why don't you use your brain? You're not strong enough to stop those monsters right now. If you want to stop them, wait until you fully master Higan-kiri."

"Old man..."

Shiki muttered.

"Besides, you're all still young. You have a long way to go before it's your time to die. Leave this task to me. And those strange eyes of yours should have already shown you—I'm not alive, which makes me the perfect opponent for those dead things."

"Master!!"

Shirou shouted, finally realizing what the old man intended.

"Shirou, you have talent, and you've worked hard. I've taught you pretty much everything you need to know. From here on, it's up to your practice. Don't disappoint me!"

"But—"

Before Shirou could say more, the old man waved his hand impatiently.

"When I say go, you go! Stop arguing! Little girl, drag him out of here!"

"Thanks, old man," Shiki said. Having experienced countless battles, she didn't waste time with sentimentality. She grabbed Shirou's arm and started dragging him away.

Mana, standing nearby, bowed deeply to the old man.

"Thank you, Grandpa. I'll remember you for the rest of my life."

"Hahaha, good, good... It seems my luck in this life wasn't so bad. I met Shirou and two very interesting people. It's just a shame you're all too young for me," the old man laughed, then turned to face the three tall figures dressed in black who had emerged from the flames.

"Thank you for not interrupting me. I'll extend my appreciation for that."

"There's no need for thanks, Faker. I can give you this much time," Roa replied with a smile, an amused one.

"But I regret to inform you that they won't escape."

"Is that so?" the old man asked, still smiling.

"Yes," Fabro muttered in a low voice.

The next second, the Sea of Chaos surged again, releasing the primordial seeds of life, evolving into various flying beasts that took to the skies.

However, before they could escape the firestorm, countless blades of light flashed across the sky, cutting down all the beasts Fabro had summoned.

The old man below stroked his graying beard, his gaze sharper than the blade light, mocking the beast master.

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"I'm afraid your words don't count for much. You'd better not underestimate me. I may not be a master of swordsmanship, but when it comes to fighting with my life on the line, I won't lose to anyone."

"Is that so? Then prepare to die," Fabro said as the Sea of Chaos continued to expand.

At the same time, Roa and Souren Araya charged toward the old man.

"Fools. Haven't you realized? I've been dead for a long time."

The old man remained unmoving, still stroking his beard.

"Let me, a dead man, teach you one final thing: never make an enemy of a swordsmith in his own home. If you do, be prepared to be pierced by countless blades. Arise!"

With a single word, like the decree of an emperor, every sword in the courtyard—whether successful or failed, complete or broken, scorched by fire or untouched—anything that even resembled a sword, rose into the air. One by one, they soared, connecting end to end, forming a seamless blade formation between the old man and his enemies.

This blade formation was like a military formation: anyone who entered it would be killed without mercy.