I Run Fast

"I have to say, you're strong—at least the strongest among those I've fought." Flapping his wings, the White Winged Ancestor spoke from the heart.

One had to understand that the White Winged Ancestor had existed since the age of Solomon and lived on as a true old monster. For him to say this carried no small weight.

Not only that, but the way he looked at Shirou had shifted. The flame of interest had ignited in his eyes. It had been a long time since he'd felt such keen curiosity about anyone.

Though whether Shirou was even human remained unclear.

Both of them knew they hadn't used their full strength yet. But so what?

"I know this isn't really the time to say it, but thanks for the compliment, White Winged Ancestor." Though they were enemies, Shirou still maintained respect for his elder—at least on the surface.

Ulquiorra, who had been standing at Shirou's side, had already turned into spirit particles. Those particles gathered in Shirou's hand, forming the shape of a longsword. The Zanpakuto, Black Winged Great Demon, had arrived.

"A new round's about to start, old man. Even if you're going to dance, you'd better keep up with the rhythm!" Shirou swung his blade, then pointed its tip at the White Winged Ancestor.

"Don't get too cocky, human. I was the one on top in that last fight! Overestimating yourself will only hasten your death." The White Winged Ancestor drew his own weapon—a slender, pure-white rapier.

Honestly, this guy's obsession with white was almost as bad as Touko's obsession with orange.

Shirou didn't care about any of that. He swung his blade straight at the White Winged Ancestor, who raised his sword to block.

Blade met sword with a crisp clash, sparks flying.

Shirou held the sword with one hand and pressed the other against the back of the Black Winged Great Demon's blade. The next moment, that dark green mana surged forth again, this time coating the Zanpakuto and erupting through it as a medium.

The White Winged Ancestor had seen this move a few times now. He knew exactly what it was.

Only one thought ran through his mind: "Is this guy insane? Detonating such violent energy at this close range—even with regeneration on par with mine, he won't come out of this unscathed!"

The White Winged Ancestor wasn't that Magical Girl, Aoko Aozaki. He couldn't afford to waste time.

Even as he thought it, that Cero, unleashed like a Getsuga Tensho, blasted him away. But with his regeneration, the wounds healed in no time. The True Ancestor's healing was just too strong.

Still, Shirou had achieved his goal. Before the White Winged Ancestor could regain control of his body, Shirou used Sonido to appear behind him. The Zanpakuto, wreathed in Cero, struck the White Winged Ancestor like swinging a baseball bat, sending him flying.

Then Sonido activated again. This time, Shirou appeared directly above him and brought down a Sure-Win Rising Dragon Sword in a similar fashion.

But this strike was destined to miss. The White Winged Ancestor had already finished his chant, and a pure-white magic formula blocked the blow.

Having become a True Ancestor through magical research, the White Winged Ancestor was an immensely powerful mage in his own right. And because he'd lived so long, the spells he used were ancient—and in this world, magic generally followed one annoying rule: the older, the stronger.

Seizing the opening, the White Winged Ancestor twisted his sword hand and thrust upward at an awkward angle, aiming to split Shirou from below.

Shirou sensed the danger instinctively and dodged to the right. But he was a beat too slow. Half his left arm was severed by the White Winged Ancestor's blade. Shirou didn't dare linger; he immediately used Sonido to retreat.

"Two seconds," the White Winged Ancestor announced a time. "That instant movement of yours is impressive—almost on par with the Second Magic—but you have to wait about two seconds before using it again. Am I right?"

Shirou's heart sank. The other party was timing his Sonido's cooldown. That meant the White Winged Ancestor hadn't been using his full strength at all, and now the details of Sonido were exposed. This wasn't a good sign.

Still, losing the fight was one thing, but losing face was another.

"So what if you know? You think a slash like that can beat me?" The wound on Shirou's arm quickly stopped bleeding, and then, starting from the bone, the limb regenerated rapidly. "See that? When it comes to not dying, I might not be worse than you!"

"Is that so?" The White Winged Ancestor opened a series of pure-white magic circles. For a moment, he even took on the aesthetic of a certain purple Caster. "Kid, let me, as your senior, teach you a lesson: every regeneration ability has its limits. If I were hit by a barrage this dense, even I'd struggle to keep up. What will you do?"

A hint of playfulness crept into the White Winged Ancestor's tone. Then, all the magic circles in the air launched their attacks simultaneously.

"Tch! White Winged Ancestor, do you think I'm stupid? Only an idiot would try to take that many high-level spells head-on!" Shirou shot back without backing down.

But inside, he was thinking, "If I had Jeanne-level magic resistance, I'd just stand still and take every single one of your spells with my face!"

Ideals were grand, but reality was harsh. Magic resistance was something Servants had patented. Shirou would never have it—not in this lifetime. If he wanted it, he'd have to die first. And who the hell would choose that?

In short, Shirou had to deal with the rain of magic missiles himself. As an old-school powerhouse, the White Winged Ancestor's magic missiles were nothing like Luvia's Gungnir rounds. If Shirou took three or four hits, he'd be in serious trouble. Luckily, he never planned to tank them from the start.

Trace On!

Blades gleaming with cold light emerged from the glow of mana. Magic, huh? Like I can't do that too! Shirou thought to himself, though it was obvious he was just jealous of the White Winged Ancestor's dazzling array of high-level magic circles.

Projected swords alone couldn't block high-level magic, but the best use for this trick—aside from regular sword-fighting—was pairing it with Broken Phantasm.

Since the originals he projected weren't that great, there was no nuclear sword. It only reached the power of a hand grenade... Well, it'd have to do.

Magic and flying swords collided, giving off a vague vibe of magic versus cultivation, complete with flashy effects. Shirou had no time to watch the action blockbuster unfolding before him. He gathered a massive amount of mana into his legs and activated the third of the five spells he currently knew—

"Reinforcement, start!"

When it came to reinforcement magic, it was the real jack-of-all-trades. It was almost as versatile as Cero.

For example, a certain unremarkable homeroom teacher used it to solo a certain Saber. Or a certain unnamed young lady used it to make a certain purple-haired mage from the Age of Gods feel the sting of a modern-day beating, with the lovely excuse: "Close combat is a required course for modern mages." Though it looked more like Devil Muscle Rin's excuse.

After casting reinforcement magic, Shirou's speed shot up again, breaking the sound barrier in one go and appearing right behind the White Winged Ancestor.

He didn't use Sonido because its cooldown had been exposed. Two seconds might sound short, but in the hands of someone like the White Winged Ancestor, it was plenty of time. Better to save it for escape.

"Just an old geezer past his prime. Let me tell you, the two great secrets of modern mages are throwing punches and pulling blades! Take this!" See Merlin and the Doctor for reference.

Raising the glowing green Black Winged Great Demon, Shirou swung it down hard at the White Winged Ancestor.

The White Winged Ancestor raised his sword and blocked the blow without any suspense. Shirou had expected as much. If the White Winged Ancestor couldn't even do that, his grave would have grass several meters tall by now.

Shirou didn't press his luck. The moment the strike failed, he withdrew. A point-blank Cero trick might catch an opponent like the White Winged Ancestor off guard once, but it wouldn't work a second time.

Stepping on spirit particles, Shirou moved behind the White Winged Ancestor again. Slash, blocked, withdraw. Then to his side. Thrust, parried.

Shirou knew he was no match for the White Winged Ancestor in pure combat technique, so he simply seized control of the battle's rhythm with relentless offense.

Though Shirou's attacks were fierce, the White Winged Ancestor's defense was airtight. He was waiting—waiting for Shirou to run out of stamina. Reinforcement magic boosted speed and power, but it also drained physical energy faster.

To put it bluntly, Reinforcement magic is like a gas pedal—stepping on it makes the car go faster, but it also burns more fuel.

Shirou naturally knew what the White Winged Ancestor was thinking. From their earlier exchange, it was clear that with his martial skill, the White Winged Ancestor couldn't possibly be suppressed by him, nor could Shirou keep the upper hand forever.

Shirou looked calm on the surface, but inside, he was overjoyed.

Come on! Focus more on me, and then be utterly shocked, you old White Winged bastard!

Just as Shirou was locked in combat with the White Winged Ancestor, the sky split open. A massive monster with a white, bone-like long-nosed mask poked its head out from the rift, followed by a body tens of meters tall.

The monster let out a piercing shriek, then opened its mouth. It drew a vast amount of magical energy from the atmosphere, condensed it together, and finally blasted a Cero right into the White Winged Ancestor's face.

As for Shirou, he had already used Sonido to get away in advance.

I'm fast when I run, so I can do whatever I want!