Chapter 383: The End of the Path, the Beginning of the Path

The wasteland of swords.

Flames wandering across the earth like a boundary line, their hue filling the vision, gears rotating in space—in short, this is the forge.

Divine swords, demonic swords, demonic swords, immortal swords, spirit swords, holy swords. As far as the eye could see, all were ownerless blades; if measured by the value of sacred sects from the outside world, merely entering here would grant countless years of accumulated wealth.

Fragments of blades rained down like rain, divine radiance dazzling, sword qi surging into the heavens.

Yet in the end, only the glow of magical energy remained surging.

Servant Emiya did not understand why, despite being able to control their weapons, the opponent repeatedly left openings without striking vital points.

Crossing space to close in, Weigong Shilang wielded a Western longsword inscribed with elven runes, clashing it against the pair of Kenjō and Moxie held by Servant Emiya; the twin blades woven from the Fixed Field immediately cracked open.

And Weigong Shilang's blade became lodged within.

"Projection, begin."

Through products woven from identical magical energy, their magics linked together in that instant.

Servant Emiya's eyes widened instantly, "You bastard."

Basic framework understood.

As if abandoning resistance, Weigong Shilang ignored the attacks launched from afar by the other two, pressing forward with a frenzied sword style that drove Servant Emiya back ten meters.

It was in some desert-climate nation, where he watched homeless children, clad in rags, wandering the streets, selected by soldiers in Jeeps—those with "acceptable quality" were taken in.

The first time.

The existence known as Weigong Shilang understood what he must do.

"Are you reading my past?!"

Up to heaven, down to earth, east, west, south, north—six sword beams appeared in rapid succession, enough to tear a body into separate fragments.

Weigong Shilang kicked Servant Emiya in the abdomen, using the opponent's body to generate force and pull himself away.

His longsword swiftly returned to guard, deflecting the several sword qi projectiles that were in truth bullets.

Yet even so, it still granted the opponent an opening.

Deep wounds, visible to bone, exposed bone and flesh to the scorching air; the weapon, resembling a fusion of gun and blade, was clamped by Weigong Shilang, who then reversed his strike and plunged it into Servant Alter's ribs.

"Projection, begin."

In the hellish darkness, the gears still turned; opening his eyes, he saw the woman who resembled his elder sister lying in a pool of blood, while he held a gun in his hand.

"You're insane," Servant Emiya said as he drew his sword.

He understood what this man intended to do, why the contract with the Counter Force included this clause.

To refine techniques through battle? No, this man did not merely wish to read their past experiences.

"Just looking at these things makes me want to throw up."

Ignoring the sword wound, he glanced at the cold-eyed black Archer and said:

"Indeed. Everything you've endured can only be called hell."

If absolutely necessary, besides the Nine Character Secret, he had many other techniques available, plus temporary enhancements.

Even if these guardians had Alaya's support, infinite magical energy, and the Ten Directions Sword Art refined to its highest level, these Servant Emiyas were no match for Weigong Shilang.

Yet now, he chose to fight these Servant Emiyas in a method bordering on "foolish."

"Though I long knew Weigong Shilang's mind was unstable," Su Lin said amid the mist of history:

"I thought he'd be healed by Dada Liya. Now it seems his condition has worsened."

"Mr. Su Tuoni, make him an appointment with Dr. Adam?"

Kleine glanced sideways at Su Lin, who was carrying a camera, paused, then replied: "Better make two appointments."

"You're so thoughtful, still caring about our Li Huowang's mental health," Su Lin joked aloud, yet set down the professional camera, his eyes filled with shock:

"Carrying soul memories that are of the same origin but not one's own—if one endures it, fine; if not..."

"His outcome may not be pretty."

Even Su Lin hadn't expected Weigong Shilang to choose this path; memories alone were one thing, but adding soul resonance—even he had no interest in that thing called Su Tuoni.

Human souls possess a certain resilience, especially cultivators who have trained their spiritual soul, whose resilience can withstand immense amounts of information.

But facing another self of the same origin, if soul resonance arises from its memories, even if the current self is now different, Su Lin suspected Weigong Shilang would eventually collapse—so severely that only time reversal might save him.

Assuming time reversal even worked.

"Insane?"

Weigong Shilang pulled his longsword from his own body, whose spiritual foundation had already reversed, gasping for breath as he drew back; not only did his wounds heal rapidly, but the three Servants were the same.

"Didn't you yourself say it? Weigong Shilang is a twisted existence, a false righteous hero who lives for others' happiness."

He seemed to sneer, yet more like desperately concealing the shocks he was currently enduring.

"A conceited hypocrite."

He realized he had indeed thought too simply; the memories flowing through his soul were peeling away his "present," and every soul-to-soul link bore the erosion of time and memory.

"Gain some power, obtain some fortune, and become so arrogant you lose all sense of Tiannandibei," Weigong Shilang gripped his longsword and charged at Servant Emiya, bellowing:

"What kind of righteous companion? Immature thoughts, narrow-minded reasoning, recklessly striding down a path you falsely believe is right."

"Isn't that right?!"

Without any possibility of evasion or retreat, he charged straight into the enemy's assault, slashing forward—only to seize the fleeting instant when blades clashed and sparks flew.

Servant Emiya stared blankly at the youth, his face still bearing traces of youthfulness, yet already possessing such immense power, his body riddled with sword wounds yet still charging forward.

The flying blades, when nearing the opponent, were absorbed into his control—even Fantasy Break could not disrupt it.

He did not know what the man intended, but rationally, he should avoid close combat and coordinate with the other two guardians.

"Why..."

He instinctively raised Kenjō and Moxie; an uncontrollable revulsion, rising from within, forced him into irrational action.

Hssss—!

Swords and knives clashed, parried, and met again, swift as lightning—within a single second, dozens of blows beyond human limits struck directly at each other's vital points.

"Instructor," called the long-haired girl named Kishinami Shiro: "When this war ends, we—"

Shilang! It's time you returned to the Zhong Ta and learned at my side.

Fragmented memories and voices.

"Your spiritual foundation… is it multiple Emiya?"

The voice echoed across all directions.

Weigong Shilang, affected by it, made mistakes; each new wound occasionally deepened until one could reach the bone with a hand.

"Not enough."

His scattered gaze cleared once more; at the instant the blade pierced his shoulder blade, he adjusted his position and thrust upward with Ganjiang.

Finally, another stalemate of brute force ensued.

Kill… to save ten people, one must kill one; trapped in the whirlpool of human conflict, to stop war one must kill, to save civilians one must snipe the evil soldiers—even though he wished to save everyone.

There is a gap between ideals and reality; this act was destined to be misunderstood by others, alone immersed upon a hill of swords, obsessed with the dream he longed for.

"Why?" asked the Heroic Spirit Emiya: "What meaning is there in doing this?"

His headache was so severe it numbed his eyeballs; even viewing from a third-person perspective, the memories flowing into him and the essence of the other's soul still surged like overlapping waves.

"False compassion saves no one, but knowledge and power can," Weigong Shilang exhaled deeply, forcing open his weary eyes to look at the other:

"On this path, I can go farther than any of you!"

"Even if most of my power now comes from outside, one day I will reach a place you have never seen!"

The Heroic Spirit Emiya watched the spark in the other's eyes; beneath the blood-stained face, he felt that dissonance once more.

A contradiction he once possessed.

"Tch." The Heroic Spirit Emiya could not describe his current emotion—perhaps anger best described it:

"Once you've taken Dada Liya's hand, don't you dare let go! What are you trying to do with this appearance?!"

A flash bright enough to blind ordinary people burst from the gap between sword and knife, followed by a downpour of weapon clashes—but speed and power differed drastically from when he used Immortal Techniques.

"Projection, begin!"

The Heroic Spirit Emiya did not understand why he had instinctively engaged the other in a duel of projections, abandoning all external things and returning to the essence of Projection Magic.

He only knew this was a contest between swordsmiths!

Excalibur clashed with the Sword in the Stone; even the chilling aura of the blades was gone, relying purely on sword technique.

"Weigong Shilang, guilty of war crimes, crimes against humanity, espionage—having instigated one hundred and thirty-four war conflicts, attempting to trigger World War III… sentenced to hanging!"

In the courtroom, the man faced the charges laid upon him and merely smiled; his throat, unused to water for days, ached—but not enough to prevent speech.

At last, by the iron cage, he saw his former companion, Diao, standing in shadow, coldly watching it all unfold.

"Only hanging can preserve your brain, blood, and spinal cord most completely… these will be sent to the Zhong Ta for sealing tomorrow."

"That's fine."

Upon hearing the reply, the man slammed the door and left, seemingly dissatisfied with his answer.

"That's fine?" That thought had been cast aside long before he became a Guardian!

Countless Parallel Worlds, endless slaughter—mountains of corpses and seas of blood were no exaggeration.

Whenever there was a need, whenever a factor threatening the world appeared, whenever someone might cause the world's destruction.

No matter the nation, the time, the timeline—as a Guardian, he must act as a cleaner, erasing all related, potentially dangerous, even merely collateral innocents!

When he came to his senses, he stood upon a hell built of countless corpses.

And the one who forged this hell was

"Me? Hah… I've already been affected." Weigong Shilang repelled the other, creating distance to buy himself breathing room: "Should I thank you for not attacking right now?"

These memories must be engraved, never forgotten—this Weigong Shilang could do it, his body told him so.

The other two Guardians had long since recovered, yet now watched Weigong Shilang without moving.

The elderly Weigong Shilang—not Kozu Mura Masamune—asked: "I ask only once: what do you seek by doing this?"

"Children make choices," Weigong Shilang said, using the Duan Zi he often heard from Su Lin and Lu Mingfei to ease his mind—and as his answer: "Adults choose everything."

Whether it's that girl's happiness or becoming a partner of justice, none of it will be left behind—even if the emotion driving these actions was born from a counterfeit.

But without doubt, this emotion is a real thing.

"In the world where I now work, many planetary beings will be drawn into disasters in the future. Though I believe Su Lin and others won't stand idly by, I want to do as much as I can."

"Grow faster."

"You're already dead, become Guardians—you have no way to continue down this path."

"Then leave it to me." Weigong Shilang smiled at the three Emiya Guardians, extending his hand, saying:

"Your ideals."

The Heroic Spirit Emiya finally understood where the dissonance in this man came from.

This arrogance.

Trying to replace every Emiya who reached the end and journey onward—though this race had already reached its finish, this man sought to rewrite the rules and turn it into a relay.

How arrogant?

Yet it felt familiar—as if he had heard it before, in a distant past, on a full-moon night, when he had once promised the same to someone else.

Because he had once stood deep within hell, burdened with guilt, he wished to do something for those who hadn't survived—and that man's ideal was undoubtedly the best direction.

So.

He felt this strange emotion toward the fellow.

"Once, a fool said the same thing to a bearded man," said the elderly Weigong Shilang, glancing at the projected Emiya Alter beside him:

"Never mind. When one grows old, one likes to recall the past."

He projected a forging furnace and began forging the blade on the spot, hammer striking the red-hot steel again and again.

Heroic Spirit Weigong glanced at Weigong Alter beside him, then turned to Weigong Shilang and said:

"If you can't keep up,"

"drown in your ideals."

(End of Chapter)