The fourth illustration poll has ended with the following results:
Aiz in a white one-piece dress on the beach : 14%
Riveria dreams of being Juliet and Shirou as Romeo : 69%
Lefiya mimics Shirou's catchphrase on the balcony : 7%
Shirou teaching Syr how to cook : 10%
With a total of 29 votes. You can check it out on https://www.patreon.com/Rayish
That night, Syr quietly washed Shirou's green uniform. The restaurant was empty, and all the other waitresses had gone home. She looked at the uniform in her hands, recalling the times Shirou wore it while diligently cooking in the kitchen or helping clean the restaurant. Shirou always worked selflessly, never thinking of himself, as if there was no burden too great for him to turn down a request.
Syr smiled faintly and whispered to herself, "Shirou is too kind... He never puts himself first."
Her thoughts drifted back to the first time she saw Shirou offer to help her. Back then, Shirou had not yet officially joined the Loki Familia, but he didn't hesitate to protect Syr from a drunken adventurer who had reached level 3. When Shirou tried to stop the drunk, he fell, too weak to fight him, yet he still stood up. If Ryuu hadn't arrived just in time to drive the drunk away, Shirou might have been seriously hurt. Yet even then, Shirou didn't complain.
"He always helps others, even if it means getting hurt himself," Syr sighed softly.
Her mind returned to the events of the previous night. Shirou had offered to help Bell in the War Game against Apollo Familia. Shirou, whom Syr knew was only level 1, still wanted to throw himself into a battle against a much stronger Familia. Syr bit her lower lip, feeling both worried and amazed at Shirou's strong resolve. She knew there was no fear in Shirou when someone needed help.
"Is it... because of a past trauma?" Syr pondered in silence, her hands stopping as she washed Shirou's uniform. She recalled Shirou's soul, which seemed full of wounds, like an old sword, constantly sharpened but still marred with scars. How much weight did Shirou carry from his past, and how strongly did he hide it behind his smile?
Syr felt something deep and dark within Shirou's soul. Compassion crept into her heart. Shirou always helped others, perhaps because he wanted to atone for something that had happened to him. Syr wondered what Shirou had experienced before coming to Orario. What had made him so hard on himself but so gentle with others?
"Shirou... you really are special," Syr whispered softly, continuing her work with a heart full of sympathy.
In her heart, Syr hoped to stay by Shirou's side, even if only as a waitress or a friend. She wanted to make sure that someday, Shirou could find peace for himself, not just endlessly helping others.
Syr sighed as she hung Shirou's green uniform on the clothesline. The faint moonlight illuminated the small yard where she dried the clothes. Her thoughts drifted to an idea that had crossed her mind recently—what if she had recruited Shirou into the Freya Familia first, instead of letting him join Loki Familia? As Freya, she could have more freely removed the rust from Shirou's soul, making him shine like a hidden diamond within stone.
But Syr knew this was no longer a choice she could make. Shirou wasn't the Odr she had been waiting for, though he had extraordinary potential. He wasn't the one destined for her. Shirou was someone full of wounds, someone who had built walls around his soul, yet still fought to help others. Freya—or Syr—could only watch from afar. After all, Shirou was a cherished friend to Syr, even if not the person she sought.
Syr paused and looked at the green uniform, hanging peacefully under the moonlight. Her mind wandered to the stark contrast between Bell and Shirou. Bell had a bright, transparent soul, like an unpolished gem, full of light and potential. Shirou's soul, on the other hand, was tarnished, covered with layers of scars hiding his true potential. If one only saw Shirou's soul, he would seem broken—but his actions, his deeds, always shone with a rare beauty. The irony only made him more intriguing.
"Shirou... you're different," Syr murmured to herself. She bowed her head, imagining how beautiful Shirou would be if the rust could be removed, if his past could be healed. But maybe not everyone could be healed. Perhaps Shirou would continue to carry his scars while still helping others, always with that gentle smile on his face.
Syr smiled gently. Even though she knew Shirou wasn't the one she had been waiting for, she still felt fortunate to have him as a friend.
Syr walked back toward Folkvangr, the headquarters of the Freya Familia, under the calm night sky. Although she appeared as Syr to most of the outside world, here, everyone in the Freya Familia knew who she truly was. As Freya stepped inside the grand gates of the Familia's headquarters, her loyal followers immediately greeted her with respect, fully aware that they were not facing a mere waitress, but the goddess of beauty and love.
Freya walked gracefully through the hall, leaving behind the warmth of her Syr persona. Her steps were steady, unrushed. Every movement exuded authority and power. When she reached her chamber, Freya closed the door behind her and sighed deeply. Slowly, she released the divine power that had been suppressed while she played the role of Syr. Her hidden divine aura flowed back at full strength. Her form gradually changed, returning to Freya, the goddess of overwhelming beauty and eternal grace.
She stood before a mirror, gazing at the green uniform she had worn as Syr—a symbol of the simple life she occasionally enjoyed. With a calm and elegant gesture, Freya removed the uniform and hung it carefully beside her. Then, she picked up an elegant black gown, more fitting for her divine self. As she donned the gown, Freya fully became her true self again—a goddess radiating an aura of allure, far removed from Syr's warm and friendly persona.
With graceful steps, Freya walked toward her throne. As she sat, her posture radiated immense power and majesty. Her purple eyes gazed far ahead, filled with mystery and plans known only to her. The Freya who sat now was entirely different from Syr. She was no longer the smiling friend but a goddess with a sharp gaze, ready to move her pawns in this world, especially those who had caught her interest, like Shirou Emiya.
Freya gazed out at the night through the window, contemplating her role as Syr and what lay ahead. "Shirou... will you become my light or merely rust that fades away?" Freya whispered, closing her eyes, allowing her grand schemes to slowly unfold.
Once again, as Freya sat on her throne, her thoughts turned toward Shirou Emiya. She regretted her decision to let Shirou join Loki Familia. If only she had acted sooner, Shirou could now be under her protection, shining under her guidance, without hiding as a weak adventurer known only as a supporter.
Freya knew well that Loki, despite her often cheerful and carefree demeanor, was a goddess fiercely protective of her Familia. Moreover, she had strong bonds with each of her members. Shirou, although only a level 1 supporter, was already part of Loki Familia, and Loki would certainly not let anyone take him without a fight.
If Shirou had been part of a weaker Familia, Freya could easily have charmed or even coerced him into joining Freya Familia without worrying about the consequences. But now that Shirou belonged to Loki, Freya had to think twice. Loki Familia was one of the strongest in Orario. An open confrontation could lead to war between Familias or worse—a War Game.
Freya sighed softly. Even though she was a goddess of great power and influence, directly opposing Loki was not a wise move. She decided to hold off on her ambitions for Shirou, at least for now. After all, there was Bell Cranel, who currently held her attention. Bell, with his transparent soul, was a light that shone brightly, and the upcoming War Game between Hestia Familia and Apollo Familia was the perfect opportunity to see his true potential.
"Shirou... you're safe for now," Freya whispered, her gaze sharpening as she began plotting her next move. "I'll wait for you to shine... when that time comes, I'll reach out once again."
Freya then focused on Bell Cranel, ready to witness how the war between Hestia and Apollo Familia would shake Orario.
Freya gently held a green-colored necklace in her hand. The gemstone in the center of the necklace glowed softly, imbued with magical power she had specially prepared for Bell Cranel. Although the necklace wouldn't be able to protect Bell from all attacks, Freya had ensured that its power was enough to withstand one particularly strong strike—especially from Hyakinthos, the captain of Apollo Familia, who had reached level 3.
Freya smiled faintly, her eyes full of hope as she imagined how Bell would use the necklace in the upcoming War Game. "I want to see how you will grow, Bell," she murmured softly.
The necklace would be given to Bell in the form of Syr, as a simple yet powerful gift. Syr would present it as just a token of good luck, but Freya knew that the necklace could be the deciding factor between life and death in the battle to come.
Freya leaned back in her throne, her gaze drifting far into the night sky over Orario, filled with high hopes for Bell. She was eager to witness the extraordinary spectacle Bell would present for her. Every step he took, every battle he faced, would only make his soul shine brighter, and Freya would be there to witness it all.
"Come, Bell Cranel... Show the world, and me, just how brightly you can shine in the darkness of this War Game."
After a few moments, there was a knock on the door from outside.
Upon hearing the knock, Freya calmly allowed Hedin to enter her chamber. The tall, blond Elf strode in with steady steps and bowed respectfully to his goddess. "Freya-sama," he said with reverence, "I've come to report."
Freya, still holding the green necklace in her hand, gently nodded and asked, "What do you have to report, Hedin?"
Hedin continued, "While monitoring the area around Soma Familia's base, I witnessed one of Bell's companions, a supporter named Lily, being rescued by a figure in a black cloak and a skull mask. The figure moved with incredible speed. Based on their velocity, I estimate they are at least level 5."
Hearing this, Freya narrowed her eyes slightly in surprise. "There are few adventurers in Orario at level 5," she mused, beginning to analyze. "That narrows down the possibilities, doesn't it?"
However, as Hedin continued his report, his tone grew a little grim. "I tried to pursue them, but they managed to escape without revealing their identity. I apologize, Freya-sama. They were much faster than I anticipated."
Now, Freya was truly intrigued. "You, a level 6 adventurer, couldn't catch them? How did they manage to escape?" she asked, her curiosity growing.
Hedin replied in a subdued tone, "I used one of my strongest spells—lightning magic that should have been enough to immobilize them. But... they drew a sword that split my lightning in two. I've never seen anything like it before."
Hedin's words startled Freya, causing her to rise from her throne. A sword that could split lightning? That wasn't an ordinary ability. Freya's mind began to whirl, analyzing the possibilities. "Who could possibly do such a thing...?" she whispered to herself, unable to guess the identity of the skull-masked figure.
Freya's curiosity was piqued even further. "This is interesting," she murmured, a faint smile appearing on her lips. "We must find out more about this mysterious figure. Are they an ally or a threat?"
Hedin bowed even deeper, ready to continue his mission at any moment. But in his heart, he knew this black-cloaked figure was no ordinary foe.
Freya paced around her room, her mind racing to identify the skull-masked figure Hedin had described. She tried to recall every powerful adventurer in Orario, but none seemed to match the description.
"If I recall correctly, Fels, who serves under Ouranos, also wears a black cloak," Freya said while looking at Hedin. "But you said this person is a swordsman, and no sorcerer could cut through lightning with a sword."
Hedin nodded. "Yes, Fels mainly uses ancient magic. But this figure clearly relied on physical strength, and from their speed and ability to counter my lightning spell, they seem more experienced as a fighter than a mage."
Freya was silent for a moment, her eyes gleaming with mystery. "It seems there's a new player in Orario, one we have yet to know. If they're strong enough to face you directly and escape without revealing themselves, they're not just any adventurer."
Hedin, always confident in his own power as a level 6 adventurer, couldn't hide his admiration for this mysterious figure. "I agree, Lady Freya. I also feel that if we keep a close watch on Hestia Familia, that figure is bound to appear again. They seem to have a significant interest in them."
Freya stopped in the middle of the room, her eyes gazing out the window, clearly thinking of a new strategy. "You're right, Hedin. If we want to capture this skull-masked figure, you won't be able to do it alone. I want you to collaborate with Ottar, Hogni, or Allen. Their strength will ensure that whoever this is, they won't escape so easily next time."
Hedin accepted the order with a respectful nod. "I'll arrange everything."
"Do it quickly," Freya commanded. "I don't want anyone, especially this new player, interfering with our plans for Bell Cranel."
After saluting, Hedin left the room, ready to gather his comrades. Freya sat back down on her throne, her mind still filled with thoughts of the mysterious figure. Someone with that kind of power could not be ignored.
Once Hedin had gone, Freya stood by the large window overlooking Orario, gazing out at the city growing quiet. Tonight, her thoughts drifted back to the recent events—the sudden rescue of Liliruca Arde by the masked figure. That figure had moved swiftly, eliminating the threat from Soma Familia without hesitation, leaving behind a trail of strength and fear. However, what intrigued her the most was not the heroic action itself, but a small detail that had just crossed her mind.
The masked figure appeared not long after Freya, in her guise as Syr, had informed Shirou Emiya about Lily's condition. At the time, she had only intended to help Shirou, who seemed worried. As Syr, she conveyed the information with a gentle smile, expecting nothing. But that same night, the masked figure saved Lily, making her wonder. "Could it be...?" Freya thought for a moment, recalling that brief interaction.
Could Shirou be the masked figure? Freya let the thought play around in her mind. She tried to picture Shirou—a kind, humble young man, a low-profile supporter of the Loki Familia—transforming into a deadly, mysterious figure capable of easily destroying his enemies. The figure moved with speed and strength that didn't seem possible for someone at level 1. Shirou, a supporter with a low level, how could he hide something like that?
Freya chuckled softly, almost unable to believe her own line of thinking. How absurd this idea was. The Shirou she knew, while possessing a strong and determined spirit, was only a level-one adventurer. There was no way he could be the masked figure, especially since that person had displayed abilities on par with a level 5 adventurer. A level 5 adventurer could not conceal their power in front of Freya.
"Even I wouldn't be fooled by something like that," Freya murmured, still smiling. Yet, despite her mind laughing at the theory, a sense of curiosity lingered. Shirou, after all, was someone who continuously piqued her interest. There was something unique about him, something not yet fully revealed. Freya wouldn't rule out the possibility, no matter how slim.
The pillows on her bed looked soft, and she rested her head on them, feeling the coolness of the silk against her skin. The room was filled with the fragrant scent of white lilies, her favorite aroma, which always brought her peace after long days leading her Familia. Freya slowly closed her eyes, sinking into the soft darkness that wrapped around her thoughts.
As sleep gradually overtook her, the smile on Freya's face remained. While the theory of Shirou being the masked figure seemed ridiculous, she knew that the mystery surrounding him was not yet fully solved. Somehow, Shirou Emiya would continue to be part of the larger game she was orchestrating. And Freya, a goddess who always welcomed a challenge, was ready to uncover the truth whenever the time came.
***
The next morning, after her bath, Freya stood before the long mirror in her grand chamber, droplets of water still falling from her long silver hair. Her smooth skin glowed in the soft light from the window, but her mind was not entirely focused on herself. Today, she planned to give something special to Shirou Emiya, someone who had captured her attention ever since their last interaction. A Grimoire, an ancient magic book of immense value, was the gift she intended to give—not just an ordinary object, but a tool to accelerate Shirou's growth, just like the one she had once given to Bell Cranel.
Freya touched a stack of old books neatly arranged on a small table in the corner of her room. Among the pile, one Grimoire stood out, bound in black leather with gold accents. This Grimoire was extremely rare and highly valuable, not only for its ability to enhance the magical powers of anyone who read it but also for its mysterious origins. "Will Shirou accept it?" Freya thought, smiling softly as she imagined the young man's surprised expression. In her eyes, Shirou was a puzzle—a soul full of scars yet still shining.
Freya clutched the Grimoire close to her chest, deciding that today was the right day to give it. After completing her morning ritual, she walked toward the large wardrobe in the corner of the room. This time, Freya didn't plan to appear as herself. She wanted to return as Syr, the gentle waitress from the Hostess of Fertility who always showed kindness, a role she enjoyed for its simplicity. Just as she had given a Grimoire to Bell in her Syr persona, she would do the same for Shirou today.
With a slight smile, Freya transformed into Syr. She chose to wear the green uniform of the Hostess of Fertility—a simple dress with a white apron that symbolized neatness and service. Her delicate hands swiftly tied the apron's strings and combed through the bluish-gray hair that was Syr's signature, making sure not a strand was out of place. In the guise of Syr, Freya felt liberated from the burdens of being a powerful goddess, free from the responsibilities and politics of the divine. Syr was just an ordinary girl working at a bar, far removed from the intrigues of the gods.
As she looked at her reflection in the mirror, Syr smiled with satisfaction. The face that appeared plain and unassuming gave no hint of the truth behind it—that she was actually Freya, the goddess of beauty, wielding control over countless lives. "Time to play the role," she said to herself before picking up the Grimoire and stepping out of her room.
When the door opened, as usual, Horn was waiting outside. Her uncovered black left eye gazed at Syr with respect and attentiveness. Chosen as Freya's loyal attendant, Horn was always ready to carry out her duties with unwavering sincerity.
"Is everything ready, Horn?" Syr asked softly, though the question was more of a formality. She knew her faithful servant never neglected her duties.
Horn nodded politely. "Yes, Lady Freya... I mean, Syr." Horn's expression remained calm, though there was a slight tension in her gaze. Knowing Freya was playing the role of Syr, she had to remain vigilant while taking over the goddess's duties.
Syr smiled gently at her. "You'll be just fine, Horn. Don't worry. Today, I'll be heading to the Hostess of Fertility for a little fun. Make sure you handle my responsibilities here as usual." Her voice was soft, but there was a clear command beneath it.
Horn obediently nodded. "Of course, Lady Syr. I will fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities." Without further words, Horn prepared herself for the change. Within moments, her body subtly trembled, and the figure of the girl gradually faded, replaced by the perfect form of Freya—her pale skin glowing, silver hair cascading down her back, and the sharp gaze characteristic of the goddess of beauty. Horn now fully embodied Freya, with no discernible difference. To any onlooker, it would seem as if Freya remained in her palace, continuing her role as the Familia's leader.
Syr—Freya in her servant's guise—smiled in satisfaction at the flawless transformation. "Very well, I leave everything in your hands. Enjoy your role as me, while I have some fun at the Hostess of Fertility."
Horn, now in Freya's form, bowed deeply. "Thank you for your trust, Lady Freya. I will ensure everything runs smoothly."
With a small nod, Syr walked out of the room, heading toward the Hostess of Fertility, carrying the Grimoire she intended to give to Shirou. Meanwhile, back in Freya's palace, Horn performed her duties as the goddess impeccably, making sure no one realized that the goddess was actually spending her leisure time as a simple barmaid at the Hostess of Fertility.