Emiya Shirou considered himself incredibly lucky. He thought the sneak attack from the Dead Apostle from behind would be unavoidable. But in that moment of crisis, an idea flashed through his mind—as it turned out, he had simply shifted slightly, and the attack had landed right on the bundle of alchemical swords and quiver strapped to his back.
So the originally fatal stab became a blunt strike. After feeling a shock that shook his internal organs, he was flung out of the encirclement. Borrowing the momentum, he flipped mid-air and rolled five or six times on the ground before neutralizing the impact.
Clearly, his display had been too dazzling—it drew the full attention of the Dead Apostles, and now they sought to eliminate the threat with a coordinated assault.
In other words, despite having lost their human rationality, the Dead Apostles still possessed a degree of tactical awareness… or perhaps it was more like animalistic hunting instinct?
Dozens of golden, greedy-yet-cautious eyes stared at him from the dark, bodies twitching as if warming up for a strike.
Emiya Shirou met their gaze unflinchingly.
Suddenly, he turned and ran—fast. In the blink of an eye, he was faster than a sprinting cheetah, leaving the stunned monsters behind.
Of course, he didn't plan on fighting them all alone. That incident with the normal girl, Su Xiaoqiang, reminded him—he needed to check on his teammates.
Surprisingly, the one he thought had the weakest combat ability—Old Tang—was completely unharmed. The seasoned hunter was still hiding in the shadows, taking potshots. Oddly enough, none of the Dead Apostles had gone to "warmly engage" him.
"What the hell, Old Tang, your luck's insane!"
"Hahaha, not really. It's thanks to you, Brother Emiya—wait, no! Go check on Brother Zhou! He's in trouble, surrounded! That way!"
The battlefield had scattered as the fighting intensified, but Old Tang still performed well as support. Zhou Yuxuan had been able to hold on this long thanks in part to his covering fire. Emiya dashed toward the indicated direction at full speed.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Three alchemical arrows whistled through the air, each hitting a Dead Apostle dead-on in the face, knocking it down with a pained howl. But Emiya's expression remained grim—three, four, five… this group of enemies rivaled the previous one. Judging from the size of the truck, there could still be over twenty of them left.
Zhou Yuxuan had already killed the two drivers, but the siege was taking its toll. His alchemical shotgun had been overloaded and destroyed. Now all he had was the heavy Dragon Severing Platform and the use of Word Arts to manipulate steel rods and iron filings. But unless he struck their eyes or mouths, the attacks were easily deflected by claws and tails.
Clearly, these were just ordinary metals, far inferior in quality to Emiya's alchemical weapons. Zhou's Iron Flow Word Art wasn't fast enough to complete the full alchemical process—"kill the metal, rebirth it, and create reborn metal."
As for directly manipulating the metal inside the monsters—that would be suicide.
His stamina was almost drained. Worse, he was injured, and the scent of his blood only made the monsters more frenzied.
To Zhou Yuxuan, this was now a slow, inevitable death trap… unless he used Dragon Severing Platform.
He gently stroked the black scabbard that held the bronze ring-handled greatsword. A low dragon's roar echoed in his ears—this sword, a relic passed down by the Zhou family since ancient times, sealed a living spirit within.
It was well-known that alchemical weapons, made from reborn metal, surpassed ordinary blades in toughness, sharpness, and magical conductivity. But there was another property—they could contain spiritual essence.
Some believed that legendary swords like the Gan Jiang and Mo Ye twin blades may have been created by offering human souls as sacrifices—this made them highly magical alchemical weapons.
In the Zhou family's case, their Dragon Severing Platform sealed the spirit of a dragon. Its unleashed power would be incredible—but the cost was just as great. Many in the Zhou lineage had been devoured by the weapon after failing its trial. Of all the living Zhou members, only Wa-zhu had survived its challenge.
Crash! Thunder rolled through the heavens, and rain fell like ink.
Zhou wiped the blood from his forehead. His body, taxed by repeated Word Arts, felt like an old engine sputtering out.
He sighed inwardly—now it was his turn.
In terms of talent and strength, he was far inferior to Wa-zhu. He never expected to survive the sword's judgment.
"Brother Zhou!"
He turned to see Emiya Shirou crashing into the battlefield like a tidal wave. His twin blades danced through the Dead Apostles, sending black blood flying.
"Emiya-dono, forgive me, but please hold them off. I must undergo the trial and unleash the sword!"
"No way. Let me activate the Noble Phantasm!"
Emiya could tell Zhou's condition was poor—there's no way he could handle the backlash.
Taking the Dragon Severing Platform from him, Emiya extended his magical circuits. His innate talent for analyzing allowed him to understand complex magical systems—he could fix electronics in high school just by examining them. The same skill applied here.
"Brother Zhou, tell me the legend behind this sword… its origin!"
Understanding the lore behind a Noble Phantasm was key to recreating it. And it would help him project it more accurately in the future.
"According to the Annals of Wushan, the legendary Yu the Great was channeling rivers when a dragon disobeyed the flow. He slew it there—thus the gorge was named, and this platform was called the Dragon Severing Stage. The spirit was forged into this sword by the goddess Yao Ji."
Truthfully, Zhou Yuxuan had no intention of letting Emiya bear the burden. He was now someone highly regarded by both Wa-zhu and the Zhou family. Zhou believed he should sacrifice himself to keep Emiya safe.
Plap-plap. The rain intensified.
Zhou braced to rush the monsters, thinking: Compared to me, Emiya's talent in alchemy is terrifying. Maybe even greater than Wa-zhu's… It's better to let him take the trial while I stall the monsters.
Buzz—!
What!?
Zhou's eyes widened. In just two seconds, Emiya had drawn the ancient sword.
A deep, rumbling resonance echoed like a dragon's voice—and Zhou swore he could feel joy in its tone!
Before his stunned eyes, Emiya raised the sword high. Dozens of meters of sword energy erupted, the falling rain reversed in motion, coalescing into nine massive dragon-shaped water spouts!
That was… Grand True Word Art – Nine Infants!
(End of Chapter)
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