Buildings burned, and the earth was literally melting. Everything happening felt like hell on earth. The only inhabitants were the dead who had lost their remnants of humanity. Like an avalanche, they filled the streets, heading towards the only living person.
Shiro stood on a mountain of corpses, amidst the raging chaos, completely covered in blood, ash, and soot. His blade was entirely drenched in crimson, while the weapon in his other hand was heated from constant fire.
But the ghouls kept coming...
- You can't...
A quiet voice echoed clearly in his head, compelling him to turn around.
Behind him stood a girl with white hair and red eyes, looking at him with an absent gaze.
— Ilya... - Emiya whispered barely audibly, as if afraid to even utter her name.
- You promise to save me too, but... alas, I no longer believe in such promises... I can't be saved by anyone...
These words echoed in his head again and again. With each second, the voices that spoke them grew increasingly numerous.
Lowering his head, Emiya froze, feeling the blood freeze in his veins. Instead of the bodies of slain ghouls, mutilated bodies of Ilya surrounded him, chanting the phrase in unison.
- Can't be saved... Can't be saved... Can't be saved... Can't be saved... Can't be saved... Can't be saved...
***
— Gha-a-a! - Shirou jolted up from the ground, awakening from yet another nightmare.
Breathing heavily, he covered his eyes with his hand, feeling streams of sweat running down from his forehead. Pushing away the final minutes of that dream, Emiya involuntarily flinched, feeling a lump rise in his throat.
— Just a stupid dream... - he mumbled, trying to regain his composure. - Just... a stupid dream...
- ...that I've been seeing since that day, - his inner voice gloomily finished.
After sitting in that position for a while and bringing his senses into a bearable state, Shiro did what he should have done from the start - he looked around.
He was sitting on grass, right in front of a large lake. The shade of palm trees lining the shore protected him from the sun's rays. The lake itself was quite big, and the water seemed clear, which Shirou took advantage of, feeling an intense thirst.
After a few minutes of observation, another, far more important detail emerged - the entire space around this little patch of vegetation was a desert.
— An oasis? And why do I feel there's a hidden irony in this? - he muttered to himself. - Though... it is quite in its spirit...
Yes... after some contemplation, Shirou ultimately accepted the Kaleidoscope's offer. It wasn't exactly a difficult decision. Most likely, he had agreed back then, and all his pondering was just a way to clear his conscience.
After all, Zelretch held the title of the marshal, meaning he was probably one of the most powerful mages of the modern era, who also managed to achieve True Magic. Such a figure could teach him a lot, and given Shirou's unique talents, the Kaleidoscope was a perfect fit. Of course, his motives stirred slight aversion in him, but if the vampire had such specific ways to entertain himself, then Emiya didn't care. At least for now, as long as he was gaining benefits from it.
Therefore, the decision he made caused no concerns, even instilling a bit of... optimism.
Heh, sorry, Emiya Shirou, but you are too naive for the role you've accepted!
To say that Shirou regretted his agreement a trillion times is an understatement. He certainly suspected the training methods of the vampire would be, to put it mildly, unusual. But what awaited him further exceeded all conceivable and inconceivable expectations. He quickly grasped the meaning behind the words "no one has ever been able to handle my training methods" and "a simple person has no place among my students."
Emiya still didn't want to recall the day when they had to hold back a crowd of incomprehensible creatures from another dimension that Zelretch had dragged along...
Not to say that the training was utterly useless, but the price for the rewards was incomparable to the risks he exposed himself to.
Shirou couldn't help but note that he wasn't even the slightest bit surprised by the sudden awakening amidst the desert. After all the twists and turns that occurred during his training with the Kaleidoscope, he had become simply weary of being astonished.
However, that did nothing to alleviate the question of his next actions. He neither knew his location, even approximately, nor the direction he should follow. And... his actual goal also remained somewhat unclear...
***
— A way to make my eyes more perfect? - Shirou asked in confusion upon hearing Zelretch's unexpected suggestion.
— Yes, - the sorcerous marshal nodded. - You didn't think this was the limit of their capabilities, did you?
— The ability to destroy anything with a couple of hand movements, what could be even more powerful?
— I could answer that, but, so to speak, it would ruin the purity of the experiment, - the vampire responded evasively, as he always did. - I can only say that the result will satisfy you more than enough.
— Your vague hints do not instill confidence in me, - the young man huffed discontentedly. - I haven't forgotten what happened when I believed you last time.
— This time everything is honest.
— I've heard that before...
— I'm serious.
— And I've heard that too...
— Let me remind you, this is for you, not for me.
— Ha-a.. - Emiya sighed resignedly, unsure how to argue against that point. - So, what do I need to do?...
***
A strange noise interrupted his memories, coming from somewhere in the distance. Shirou instinctively tensed, searching for a comfortable position for defense. After all, he was in an unknown place, and thus any local inhabitant could potentially be his enemy.
After a couple of minutes, Emiya identified the source of the noise. It was a group of ten people of Arab appearance, dressed like Bedouins, whom he had seen a couple of times in Tunisia. Among them, a portly mustached man in his fifties stood out, tirelessly issuing orders to the other caravan members.
Only two of them paid no attention to his shouts. The first was a slender man who, with a disinterested expression, unloaded the meager cargo from his camel, casting cautious glances at the others. The second was undoubtedly the leader of the entire caravan - a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard, dressed entirely in dark clothing, with a one-handed sword hanging from his belt in its sheath. Upon closer inspection, Shiro noticed similar weapons with half of the caravan members, although he had no doubt in the armed presence of the others.
With his experience, Shirou had no trouble understanding who had honored him with their visit.
- Mercenaries, - thought Emiya.
Alas, as for concealing his presence, the oasis was practically useless. It was wide open, and the palm trees did not grow closely enough to conceal anyone. Therefore, he was quickly discovered.
One of the riders shouted, pointing at him, after which everyone instantly became alert and reached for their weapons. The leader of the group reacted with surprising calmness, scanning the oasis with a piercing gaze, as if searching for someone else.
The tension in the air grew. Emiya understood that a direct confrontation was not in his best interests. His opponents outnumbered him, and one of the caravan workers had already pulled out a crossbow, ready to fire at any moment.
- Besides… they are my only chance to find out where I am and to escape this devil's sandbox… - thought Shirou.
— As-salamu alaykum, - the leader greeted him.
— Wa alaykum as-salam, - the young man replied, gratefully recalling the years he had spent in Tunisia.
— Good evening, effendi, - the mercenary addressed him surprisingly politely. — I hope our presence is not a burden?
— No, not at all.
— Are you here alone? - he asked cautiously.
— Perhaps, or maybe I have a devil hidden up my sleeve, - Shirou smirked.
— My name is Jazim, these are my men, - he introduced himself, ignoring the joke. — Apologies for…
— Are you out of your mind?! - a thick-set man shouted, approaching Emiya with undisguised fear. — Get rid of him, he's surely one of…
— First of all, don't you dare raise your voice at me, - Jazim sharply cut him off. — Just because you hired me doesn't mean I'll tolerate disrespect. Secondly, look at him, he clearly does not belong to these parts; he may be from India or China, and they do not recruit kafirs into their ranks. And third, he's here all alone. We specifically chose this oasis to stop because there's no way to set up an ambush here.
— But…
— Hey, - Jazim's tone became icy. — How many more words must I waste on you?
The heavyset man blanched and walked away, glancing back at Emiya with discontent.
— I apologize for that, - Jazim said to Shiro. — He survived an assassination attempt and… gets a bit nervous when meeting strangers.
— It's alright, caution is never superfluous, right? - Shirou waved it off. — Especially in matters like this…
— Yes, speaking of that… forgive my suspicion, but how did you end up here? - The mercenary gestured around. — I don't see any camels or horses; did you really walk here on your own two feet?
— The journey has its own requirements; I can only accept them or face the consequences, - Shiro shrugged.
— Where are you from? - he asked with interest.
— The name of my homeland is unlikely to mean anything to you, - Emiya replied evasively. — From the distant east, that's all I can say.
— Well, that's your business, - Jazim shrugged. — We're about to have dinner; would you care to join us?
— I feel a bit uncomfortable being a freeloader… - Shiro feigned hesitation.
— Nonsense, helping one another on the road is the duty of all travelers, - the mercenary said dismissively. — Consider it an apology for the cool encounter.
— Well, since you insist…
***
— …and Malik complains: "Why am I always playing the role of the virgin?" - Jazim recounted, pointing at one of his men. — To which I reply: "Who would believe that I'm the virgin?.
And then everyone laughed.
The entire group was sitting around the fire, chatting among themselves and enjoying al-haris**. To Shirou's surprise, the mercenaries treated him quite friendly when Jazim stated that he was not the enemy. The only exception was the merchant they were escorting, but based on the caravan leader's words, he looked at everyone that way, except for his guards.
- It seems they don't even consider me a threat, - thought Emiya, glancing discreetly at the people surrounding him. - After all, what do they have to fear? I'm here alone, and there are ten of them; their swords clearly aren't just for show…
— By the way, - Jazim suddenly turned to him. — Would you mind telling us a little about yourself? We would love to hear about your homeland.
— I doubt I can tell you much… to be honest, I'm not even sure I can call it home, - Shiro replied distantly. — More like the place where I was born, nothing more.
— Have you been traveling since you were young?
— Yes, you could say that, - he agreed with a shrug. — Always on the road, always searching for my place in this world.
— Trying to find the meaning of your existence? - Jazim asked with a smirk. — To me, that seems like a waste of time. Sooner or later, you'll end up where you're meant to be. As long as Allah guides, no one can lead you astray.
— I doubt Allah cares about me. What does the fate of one person, especially one who doesn't believe in Him, matter to Him?
— If you were born into this world, you have a destiny that you're meant to pursue. The paths of the Almighty are unfathomable, but each of us has a place in His world, Jazim replied with philosophical seriousness.
***
— And what do I need to do?
— Therein lies the crux… I don't know, - Zeltretch replied unexpectedly.
— You… you must be joking, right? - Shirou asked, barely suppressing his anger.
— Perhaps I didn't express myself correctly, - the vampire hastily corrected himself. — I know what you must do, but the path you take to get there is up to you alone.
— Enough with the build-up; get to the point…
— I will only ask once, Emiya Shirou, - Zeltretch said in such a serious tone that Shirou felt an uncomfortable chill. — What are you willing to do in pursuit of this power?
— Anything, - Emiya replied without hesitation.
— Are you ready to forsake yourself to achieve your goal? To renounce your own humanity in desire for power?
— …I am ready, - Shiro replied after a moment of silence.
— I warned you; the rest will be on your conscience, - the marshal-mage said with satisfaction. — Now listen. There is only one person who can help you understand the essence of Death and unlock the potential of the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception
— And who is he?
— He is called…
***
— You're quite an interesting person, effendi, - Jazim said once they finished dinner and some of the mercenaries dispersed to their posts. — If it's not a secret, where will your path lead you?
— To one person. It just so happens that only he can help me find the right road, Shiro replied, feeling a bit more relaxed.
— It's not very wise to trust such matters to strangers, - the mercenary noted philosophically. — What kind of person holds your fate in their hands?
— He is called…
He is called…
— Old Man of the Mountain.
As soon as those words slipped from his lips, the atmosphere instantly shifted. The air seemed to cool a few degrees and even felt heavier. A tense silence hung in the air, in which the rustling of grass and the whisper of leaves could be clearly heard.
— The moon is beautiful tonight… – Jazim said distantly.
— Yes, a lovely night… – Emia agreed, raising his eyes to the dark sky.
— Will you pray? – the mercenary asked, looking at him with a heavy gaze.
— I don't need prayers… – Shiro's lips curled into a slight smirk. – Time Alter: Double Accel!
The world around slowed down, allowing Emiya to intercept the hand attempting to stab him with a dagger from the right, then twist it and drive the blade into the attacker's chest. Dodging an attack from the left, the young man snatched the sword from the slain mercenary and parried the next strike. Out of the corner of his eye, Shirou saw Jazim preparing to decapitate him, but he managed to draw his personal blade from his "pocket" and brace it, deflecting the attack from the older mercenary. Using his speed advantage, the young man bent his arm, slipping past the block, and plunged his sword into the opponent's abdomen on the left, right to the hilt.
The acceleration faded, along with its post-effects, but Emia wasn't about to focus on the pangs of pain just yet.
— I told you! I warned you, he's one of them! – the trader screamed in horror, his face pale with fear.
- One of them? What is he even talking about? – Emiya pondered, yet decided to leave the questions for later.
Ignoring the client's screams, the remaining mercenaries quickly recovered from their shock and began to surround Shiro. To be fair, they clearly weren't just a random bunch of scum – their movements displayed experience and cohesion. However…
…that still wasn't enough.
Though Jazim's men were warriors, they were obviously unprepared to face a mage, especially one who had honed every useful skill for direct confrontation since childhood. Emia's reinforced blade pierced their leather armor with ease, striking vital organs. The knives he kept in his "Imaginary Sector" kept appearing in his hands, striking enemies from a distance, and when in danger, he utilized "Acceleration."
After two minutes of battle, only he and Jazim remained alive.
— Well, well… I dined with my own killer, – Jazim chuckled, breathing heavily. – No one will believe you when you tell this…
Shirou remained silent.
— And yet… I didn't even ask your name…
— Emiya Shirou. You can forget it, – the young man replied with a smirk. – You will die soon anyway…
— Heh… forgive me, but I think I'll sell my skin for a higher price, – the mercenary grinned crookedly, looking somewhere behind Shiro.
Feeling danger, Emiya spun around sharply, only to feel a flash of pain in his left shoulder. Standing a short distance away was the very trader, holding a crossbow. If Shirou hadn't reacted, the bolt would have pierced him from behind. However, this didn't mean he felt any better, as his left arm hung limply and refused to cooperate. Cursing mentally, the young man bit his lip and broke the bolt at the base. Gaining a bit more freedom of movement, he tightened his grip on the sword in his right hand and hurled it at the hefty man, hitting him squarely in the throat, causing him to collapse to the ground as if he'd been cut down.
Having eliminated one obstacle, Shirou shifted his attention to the last one, who barely missed slicing him in two. It was only at the last moment that he managed to evade, and the blade merely grazed his skin. Realizing that a prolonged fight was unlikely to end in his favor, Emia decided that the best defense was a good offense. Therefore, he channeled prana into his legs, pushing off the ground and rapidly closing the distance. A new knife appeared in his right hand. Jazim, not expecting such a turn of events, tried to behead him, but Shirou managed to duck just in time, causing the enemy's sword to whistle over his head, while he deftly moved in from the side, slashing the mercenary's throat with his knife.
— See you… in hell… ha… hash… – unable to finish, he collapsed to the ground, choking on blood.
Shirou picked up the mercenary's sword and then pierced his heart, ending Jazim's life. After a couple of minutes, the same fate befell his client.
For the first time that day, Shirou was able to breathe a sigh of relief. Well… almost… the fragment of the crossbow bolt in his shoulder hadn't gone away. Feeling it, Emia gritted his teeth, then violently yanked it out, immediately causing blood to flow. The young man pressed his hand against the wound before directing prana there. Spiritual healing wasn't his specialty, but healing minor injuries or stopping bleeding was certainly within his capability.
After working on his wounds a bit, Emia heard an unintelligible noise. Turning his head, he saw the last of the caravan drivers, who had kept his distance from the mercenaries all evening, futilely trying to lift a camel off the ground. The animal clearly did not appreciate such rude interruption to its rest and refused to obey.
Hearing heavy footsteps, the caravan driver turned and saw Shiro standing just a step away, with a bloodied sword in hand. The sight horrified him so much that he immediately fell to the ground.
— I-I beg you, e-e-efendi, p-p-please spare me! – he stammered, too afraid to raise his head. – I-I knew nothing! I-I swear! I-I'm just a simple caravan driver, I w-was just asked to take them to…
— Shut up, – Shirou interrupted him, pressing the knife to his throat. – You'll speak when I ask you, is that clear?
— O-of course, efendi!
— Good, what is your name?
— K-K-Kadar, efendi...
— Kadar, here's how we will proceed… you will answer all my questions, and then you will take me wherever I say. In return, you can take whatever you want from these corpses, after which we will part ways and you will forget everything you saw and heard today. Perhaps, in that case, you might live long and happily… Do we have a deal?
— Y-you won't kill me? – Kadar seemed unable to believe his luck.
— That depends on how well you fulfill your part of the bargain. If you break it - I'll kill you; if I don't like your answers - I'll kill you; if you misstep in any other way - I'll kill you! Now stop whining, before I change my mind!
Shirou was a bit surprised at how coolly he was handling this terrified man. It was obvious that Kadar couldn't withstand the pressure and would say anything he knew, even things he didn't, just to save his skin. The sight of the recent massacre had clearly knocked the spirit out of him.
— A-as you say, efendi, – he nodded in agreement, realizing that the threat to his life had receded, if only temporarily.
— Who were these people? – Emiua asked, but seeing the confusion on the caravan driver's face, he pressed the knife to his throat again. – And don't you dare give me a moment of silence here…
— I-I'm sorry, efendi! But… I can't say much about them… that trader asked to escort them to Caspia as quickly as possible and preferably away from the main roads. We decided to stop in this oasis since it's small and open, and they feared ambushes… I hardly spoke with them because they literally reeked of trouble… and for good reason, – he added silently to himself.
— If they were such problematic clients, why did you take the job?
— Someone has to make a living, efendi, – Kadar shrugged despondently. – Plus, they offered me twice the usual rate, who could resist that?
— Well, – Shirou scoffed. – Then here's another question… and just try saying: "I don't know"... Who is the Old Man from the Mountain?..
Once again, that name seemed to have some mystical effect. Kadar's face paled like a blank canvas, his hands trembled, and he recoiled in horror.
— I beg you, efendi, anything but that…
— Are those going to be your last words? – Shiroy pressed, pushing the tip of the knife against his throat.
— Y-you don't understand… T-they'll kill me if I say anything! – the caravan driver replied, on the verge of a breakdown.
— And I will kill you if you don't! – Emiya said emphatically, starting to get genuinely annoyed.
— I-I can only say where you might find him… I beg you, efendi, have mercy on me!
— Tsk, – the young man sighed, pulling the knife away from his throat and pondering.
It was clear that he would hardly be able to extract more from the caravan driver. Whoever the person he was searching for was, they certainly inspired some mystical dread, such that the threat of immediate death was less frightening.
— Ha… damn it, – Emiya sighed. – This is better than nothing. Fine, you'll tell me where to find him, but a bit later… for now…
— Y-yes?
- Take the weapons and valuables from the corpses, then pile them all together. Also stack the bodies,- Shirou said, heading toward the mercenaries' gear. - And if you don't respond with 'as you command' right now, your head will adorn this mass grave...
***
While the caravan driver was getting accustomed to his new role as a undertaker, Shirou conducted an inventory of the property belonging to the mercenaries he had killed. Mostly, it turned out to be personal belongings of little value. A lot of the weapons were also in subpar condition, so the best ones went to Void, while the rest were tossed back to their former owners. The slain mercenaries also had gold and silver coins — dinars and dirhams, which Shirou identified through structural analysis. The total came to a decent sum: sixty dinars and seventy-six dirhams—meaning the mercenaries he had killed were far from poor.
However, the most valuable prize was the belongings of the deceased merchant. Shiro had never had a weakness for money or jewels, but even he let out an astonished whistle when he saw entire bags filled with precious stones and ornaments of various shapes, sizes, and complexities, revealing that the slain individual was quite well-off.
- Maybe I should consider switching to banditry? - he mused to himself with a smirk.
After setting aside a portion for the caravan driver, Emiya stuffed everything into a single bag and stored it in the "Imaginary Sector." It was hard to deny that such unexpected fortune was a bit intoxicating.
- Y-yes, Efendi, everything's ready, as you've asked, - Kadar murmured, still processing what he had just done.
- Good, - Shirou nodded, then picked up a smaller pouch from the ground and tossed it to the caravan driver. - Here, take this...
- W-what is this? - he asked, surprised.
- It's what I promised you, to make it easier to stay silent...
Peering inside, Kadar couldn't contain his astonishment and even rubbed his eyes just to be sure.
- I-is this... mine? - he asked for confirmation.
- And you have any objections?
- N-no! Not at all! - he quickly shook his head.
- Excellent... saddle the camels, and you can take them too; they're of no use to me, but in return, you'll take me to the nearest city...
- Y-yes, of course, Efendi! - Kadar eagerly nodded, elated by the generous reward. - Please, just wait a moment, I need to prepare them for the journey...
- Do what you need to; I'll rest a bit, - Shirou said, sitting down near a palm tree and leaning against it. - By the way, you still haven't told me where I should look for him.
For a moment, the caravan driver was silent, but it seemed that greed had somewhat muted his fear.
- ...Aamoo... - he whispered.
- What? Speak louder!
Kadar slowly approached Emiya, crouched down, looked around cautiously as if someone might be eavesdropping, then leaned closer to his ear and quietly repeated,
- You need to find the city called Alamut...