"What's wrong? Is this all you've got?" The beautiful swordswoman's voice was sharp, her killing intent undiminished.
Shirou Muramasa said nothing. His right hand clenched into a fist, but there was no strength left to grip anything.
"Berserker… do you have any idea what's going on right now?" he asked weakly.
If he had a choice, Shirou would never have summoned a Berserker-class Servant. That class sacrificed sanity for a boost in raw stats—mostly useful in close combat—and in the Holy Grail War, relying solely on brawling was rarely enough to win.
And when you lost your mind? Even a physical advantage might not save you against certain opponents.
Traditionally, Berserkers were powerful tools for their Masters, but the Miyamoto Musashi standing before him was different. She still had a human body, which dulled the frenzy but left her mind… in an unsettling in-between state.
Frenzied… but not completely lost.
Musashi's lips curled into a sneer. "The Holy Grail? I couldn't care less about it. The moment I met you, my wish was already fulfilled—my Master, the nemesis I've been chasing, the one who's reached infinity."
"You're not allowed to hurt Shirou!"
Doraemon's voice rang out in outrage. From his pocket, he pulled an Air Cannon and began firing.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The muffled bursts filled the air. Without even glancing back, Musashi deflected each invisible blast with her dagger, her movements so smooth that Doraemon froze in shock.
She didn't attack him, though. She waited—for Shirou's counterattack. A battle like this wasn't meant to end in such a sloppy way.
Her instincts told her the man before her wasn't just a Master—he was a swordsman who'd reached the infinite realm.
"How… how is this not working?!" Doraemon stammered.
Shirou shook his head with a sigh. So many useful gadgets, and you pick the least effective one. Incredible.
"Doraemon, give me a weapon."
"A… weapon?" Doraemon's voice wavered. "But I'm just a parenting robot! The weapons I can use are—uh—"
He dove into his four-dimensional pocket, rummaging through the clutter in a mild panic. Gadgets spilled onto the ground as he searched blindly.
"The Famous Sword: Lightning Pill," Shirou prompted.
Doraemon froze for a second, then clapped his hands. "Right! The Lightning Pill!"
He handed it over, still keeping a wary eye on Musashi.
At first glance, the Lightning Pill looked like an ordinary katana with no edge. But it contained an internal sensor that read an opponent's moves, ensuring the wielder would never lose in a contest of swordsmanship. Its silver blade would glow gold when activated.
"Is that… strange raccoon cat your familiar?" Musashi asked curiously.
Normally, she wouldn't bother with such things, but Shirou's strength felt so underwhelming that she doubted he was truly the swordsman she sought.
"I'm not a raccoon cat! I'm a parenting robot—Doraemon!" he barked back.
"Doraemon? What a peculiar name," Musashi said with a faint, careless smile.
Shirou's tone softened. "Doraemon is my friend."
And he meant it. When he was a child, he'd dreamed of having a friend like this. Doraemon's personality made him an easy companion to trust.
The blue robot's eyes widened, touched, and he began hopping in an odd little dance. "Shirou! Don't lose to this bad-tempered swordswoman!"
Quietly, Doraemon slipped a Time Pause Device into his paw. If things went wrong, he'd stop time, grab Shirou, and escape through the Anywhere Door.
"I believe in you," Shirou said, shaking the Lightning Pill in his hand.
Doraemon nodded firmly and took out a Time Wrap, covering Shirou with it.
"Wait—go back to about three minutes before the fight started," Shirou instructed. The Time Wrap could restore his body to its previous peak, but he worried it might also erase his Command Spells if used carelessly.
"I understand."
The wrap activated—and in an instant, Shirou's injuries vanished. Even his drained mana was restored to the level he'd had when Musashi was first summoned.
Musashi's eyes widened. "What is this?! Raccoon cat, you have some strange power—this is cheating!"
"I'm not a raccoon cat! And neither is Shirou!" Doraemon snapped.
Shirou patted his friend's shoulder. "You're a Servant, Musashi. I'm just a fragile human. If anyone's cheating, it's you."
For the first time, Musashi's face flushed, and her voice lost some of its edge. "Even so, don't expect me to hold back. I won't show mercy in a sword fight."
"Show mercy?" Shirou's lips curved into a smile.
The Lightning Pill wasn't Doraemon's strongest weapon, but for this situation, it was perfect.
Musashi frowned, puzzled by his choice. The sword looked like a harmless toy—no blade, no aura, nothing threatening about it.
Shirou's grip tightened. Magic flowed into the weapon, merging with its systems. "Musashi… how about we make a deal?"
"The Holy Grail should have told you everything about this war. If I win this match, you'll obey my orders until the end. No conditions."
Musashi raised a brow, surprised. "Don't you want to kill me?"
"I do. But I hate being controlled—by anyone or anything."
With Doraemon at his side, he could say that with confidence.
Her smile sharpened. "Fine. I've got the upper hand anyway, and losing won't get me executed. I like those odds."
Her tone was light, but her killing intent only grew.
People often described her as carefree and bold—like the big sister next door.
But only those who'd crossed swords with Miyamoto Musashi knew the truth: beneath the gorgeous smile bloomed a ruthless Shura.