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On the blood-soaked battlefield, amid the endlessly surging sea of bodies, Emiya Shirou swung his twin swords without pause.
Slash.
Another Orc fell.
Before the corpse even hit the ground, it was dragged away by clawed hands and torn apart by its own kind. Flesh was consumed. Bones disappeared. The space was immediately filled again.
The same scene repeated itself endlessly.
All around Emiya Shirou.
He stood at the center.
The Orc soldiers kept coming.
Watching the unceasing tide of enemies, Emiya Shirou felt his blood burn. Not with fear. With excitement. The situation before him was even harsher than he had anticipated.
And this was the first time he had ever experienced something like it.
Originally, Emiya Shirou had chosen to fight with a long spear.
It was a deliberate restriction. One he had always imposed on himself.
But here, the spear quickly lost its value.
The reason was simple.
There were too many enemies.
He was alone.
There was no space to open distance. No room to control the battlefield. The Orcs pressed in from all directions, leaving him with barely half a meter of breathing room.
In such a confined space, a long spear was useless.
Of course, with his strength, he could have used it to send bodies flying. He could have forcibly blasted a path through.
But that wasn't his objective.
He wasn't trying to break through.
He was holding this ground.
And continuing to fight.
So he changed weapons.
Swords.
Shorter. Faster. More efficient.
Here, swordsmanship didn't matter. Footwork didn't matter. Technique barely mattered. In this narrow space, countless weapons stabbed at him every second. There was no room to dodge.
No room to defend.
Because there was no room at all.
Likewise, there was no need for flashy movements.
One swing.
Rows of Orc soldiers fell.
Then the ones behind them rushed forward immediately.
Weapons slammed into Emiya Shirou's body from every angle.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
They left only shallow white marks.
After all, with his Durability at LV.6, ordinary attacks simply couldn't break through. Only the stronger Orc officers could leave actual wounds on his body.
And even then-
Those wounds healed.
Slowly.
Right in front of their eyes.
At some point, Emiya Shirou stopped thinking.
He forgot every technique he had ever learned.
He stopped analyzing.
He stopped calculating.
He only killed.
Over and over again.
If this were an ordinary human army, morale would have shattered instantly. Facing an enemy that could not be killed, that healed as it fought, despair would spread faster than blood.
But these were not human soldiers.
They were Orcs.
They knew no fear.
Centered around Emiya Shirou, a true slaughter had begun.
"You want us to subjugate the Orc Lord?"
Rimuru sat in the center of the meeting hall, one hand propping up his cheek as he looked at the figure standing before him.
Treyni.
A Tree Dryad.
Cangue had encountered her during a routine patrol. After confirming her request and receiving Rimuru's permission, she had been brought here.
"That's right," Treyni replied.
"Then shouldn't you be asking someone else?" Rimuru asked. "Why come to our village? We're not exactly strong."
Although Emiya Shirou had already anticipated her arrival, he hadn't explicitly stated that she posed no danger. So Rimuru remained cautious.
Still, since Shirou hadn't warned him against her, she likely wasn't an enemy.
Treyni smiled faintly.
"Please don't be modest, leader of monsters. You are now the strongest existence in the Great Forest of Jura."
"...Is that so?" Rimuru tilted his head. "I don't think that's accurate."
"If you're referring to the Hero," Treyni continued calmly, "then yes. He is stronger."
Rimuru's eyes sharpened slightly.
"So you know Shirou too."
"Of course," Treyni said. "We Tree Dryads are guardians of the forest. Very little escapes our sight."
"I see."
Rimuru nodded.
That explanation made sense.
"Then why don't the Tree Dryads handle this themselves?" he asked.
"Our true bodies are immobile," Treyni replied. "If the Orc Lord were to attack our village directly, we would not be able to withstand it."
She paused.
"More importantly, the Orcs no longer fear death."
"Unless the Orc Lord is defeated directly, they will never stop."
"So that's how it is."
Rimuru thought for a moment.
Then he smiled.
"I'll accept your request."
Treyni's eyes widened slightly.
"After all," Rimuru continued, "you should already know that my companion is currently fighting the Orc army."
"And that gives me all the reason I need to subjugate the Orc Lord."
Treyni lowered her head respectfully.
"Thank you very much, Lord Rimuru."
"You're welcome," Rimuru replied. "Let's work well together."
Just like that, Rimuru accepted the task.
The operation to subjugate the Orc Lord began.
The setting sun dyed the battlefield red.
Under the blood-colored glow, Emiya Shirou stood alone, twin swords in hand, his breath heavy.
Three days.
It had been three full days since he charged into the Orc army.
For three days straight, he had fought without rest.
The restraints he normally imposed on himself had long since been completely removed. Even so, three days of nonstop combat without sleep had pushed his condition to the brink.
Even Emiya Shirou had his limits.
He no longer knew how many Orcs he had killed.
At the beginning, the Orcs had surged forward recklessly, trying to overwhelm him through sheer force. Back then, he could cut down several enemies with a single swing.
Later, everything changed.
Under the command of an Orc General hidden among them, the Orcs adjusted their tactics.
They deliberately cleared a small space around him.
Not to give him room.
But to exhaust him.
They intended to drain his stamina through numbers.
Because without using large-scale area attacks, even if tens of thousands of enemies stood still and let him kill them, it would still take days.
And these Orcs would never stand still.
They did not flee.
They did not panic.
They did not trample each other in fear.
They simply kept advancing.
When Emiya Shirou realized their intent, he didn't resist it.
He welcomed it.
A war of attrition.
For him, the more dangerous the situation, the faster his potential would surface.
And he wasn't alone.
Little Rimuru was perched on a branch not far away, watching the battle unfold, ready to intervene at any moment.
If things truly turned bad, all Emiya Shirou needed to do was call out.
So he wasn't worried about defeat.
"This really is exhilarating," Emiya Shirou muttered.
He looked at the Orc soldiers surrounding him, their numbers showing no sign of thinning.
With a sharp motion, he pulled a sword out of his own body.
Blood sprayed.
He tossed the blade aside.
Then he calmly cast healing magic, closing the wound.
At this point, his exhaustion was extreme.
In this state, it was only natural that stronger enemies could pierce his body.
After all, the Orc army wasn't made up solely of weak soldiers.
Among the two hundred thousand Orcs were five A-rank Orc Generals beneath the Orc Lord.
Below them were countless B-rank officers.
Without armor, even with his hardened muscles, it was normal for their weapons to break through his defense.
Still, the wounds healed.
Again and again.
"But it's fortunate I haven't run into the Orc Lord yet," Emiya Shirou thought. "I can't kill him."
The force he was facing now was only a portion of the split army.
The one commanding them was merely an Orc General.
As for the Orc Lord-
That opponent belonged to Rimuru.
Only by devouring him would Rimuru become a True Demon Lord.
And until that moment came-
Emiya Shirou would keep fighting.
Right here.
In this sea of blood.
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