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"Are we just watching!?"
Misaka Mikoto dug her heels into the ground, a crackling arc of electricity snapping through her bangs. Her frustration was obvious, a visible storm of impatience and lightning.
"When necessary, you only need to trust your partner." Shen He stood calmly, his pale blue gaze locked onto the battlefield ahead. "We don't have the ability to dispel corrupted divine hostility. If we interfere recklessly, or if one of us faints, we'll only drag our allies down."
Misaka nearly screamed. "Then why the hell set it up like this in the first place!? Why not have them faint immediately if they act out of line—or if they attack without command authorization? That would've made this system unbeatable! And seriously, what even counts as hostility now!?"
Shen He didn't reply. Her words faded into the static as his mind honed in on the shifting pressure in the wind ahead.
The Two Rituals—the female vessel of contradiction—relied on sheer speed and spiritual instinct, her body twisting through the air with sublime elegance. Her perception, sharpened by mystic suggestion and the concept of "death" etched into her sight, allowed her to trace the compressed air attacks coming from their opponent. Attacks that shouldn't be following the motion of her opponent's weapon at all.
It was a deception.
The visible swing of the hammer was a red herring.
The real threat came from the delayed ripples, like invisible air drills. Lethal currents that struck independently of visual cues. Any ordinary person would dodge based on what they saw, only to be torn apart by what they didn't.
Judging by the ruins, the collapsed asphalt, and the fractured reinforced concrete around them, a direct hit ended things instantly.
But the Two Rituals could still see.
With Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, her gaze revealed even the air's edges in luminous dead lines. To her, no distinction existed between tangible and intangible. Everything had an end. Even chaos.
Still—
Even in her maddened state, the girl ahead—the elemental embodiment of wind—was fighting on instinct, moving without conscious restraint.
A low exhale escaped her lips.
The chain pendant dangling from her tongue stopped swaying and suddenly spiraled inward, as though locked on some unseen center. In sync, the air convulsed.
The wind surged violently, spinning into a cyclone of pressure around the girl. Though invisible, it whirled like an industrial-grade grinder, uprooting stone, tearing trees from their roots, and gouging massive scars into buildings. The concrete beneath them fractured into concentric rings. Despite her honed senses, even the Two Rituals was forced to retreat.
What she now faced wasn't wind—it was death.
The vortex in her vision twisted with living entropy. Dead lines flickered erratically across its surface, changing as it rotated, coiling outward like the arms of a divine executioner.
One misstep. One cut that missed the true line. And she'd be minced like the city around her.
Shen He's frown deepened.
This wasn't just some elemental chaos. The fluctuation was wrong—too aggressive, too precise in its destruction.
And then realization dawned.
"I see…" he murmured. "This is Holy Grail Madness."
He had sensed it earlier—Misaka Mikoto Alter's existence was proof enough. The Holy Grail had infiltrated this dimension. Its power had bled through the leylines of the fallen summoning ritual conducted by Chaldea's remnants. And now, it was corrupting designated Servants, drastically enhancing their combat parameters and overriding their minds.
If it had influenced this "Saint of the Wind," then her uncontrolled elemental surges made perfect sense.
Without hesitation, Shen He drew out a shimmering card from his dimensional inventory.
Primary Limited-Time Enhancement Card.
A magic-grade Chaldea artifact. Temporary boost to Level 20—usable on summoned or contracted allies for sixty minutes. It wasn't rare either; Shen He had six on hand from daily draws. More powerful variants like the Intermediate Cards—which pushed targets to Level 40—had even appeared in silver chests lately. That was likely a result of his continued proximity to "mainline events" and contact with world-shifting characters like Accelerator and Qi Mu Nanxiong.
He didn't hesitate.
"Qi Mu, I'm boosting your limiter. Prepare for output surge!"
The card shimmered and disintegrated between his fingers like divine dust.
There was no flashy transformation. No golden aura or hair turning upright like a Saiyan. Qi Mu Nanxiong simply closed his eyes.
And then—
Everything shifted.
An oppressive wave of pure thought spread outward like an earthquake in the soul.
The air didn't just tremble—it shattered under invisible force. The sound was unbearable, as if entire cities screamed. Qi Mu's psychic energy surged forward, crashing into the whirling windstorm with cosmic precision. There was no need for incantations or chants.
The battle was now at a level no human should touch.
Invisible clashed with invisible. Wind versus mind. Force against force. The screech that followed wasn't meant for ears—it was a psychic howl, a collision of powers in a frequency beyond human comprehension.
Concrete detonated from the backlash. Steel beams twisted in their foundations. Skyscrapers cracked, groaning under the stress.
This was LV5. At the very least.
But still—the girl in the wind didn't yield. Her roar continued, unintelligible and raw. Symbols flared in her irises, old and divine, overwritten by the madness of the Grail.
"Ryougi, can you see it!?" Shen He called. "The death line that anchors her—the source of the Grail's corruption!"
The Two Rituals didn't answer.
She moved.
Faster than sound. Her long blade cleaved diagonally through space.
CLACK!
The whirlwind... stopped.
Not because she struck the girl directly, nor severed the madness head-on. No—the blade had sliced cleanly through the small chain pendant that hung from the girl's mouth.
The spiritual focus that had acted as a regulator—destroyed.
With it, the malicious artifact known as Scourge, the Grail-bound Mystic Code, lost form and dissolved.
The girl fell to her knees.
Still surrounded by unstable wind energy, but now defenseless.
The Two Rituals circled warily, blade still drawn. Shen He and Misaka Mikoto ran over, cautious but hopeful.
"It's okay now," Shen He panted. "We've disrupted the conduit. If we stabilize her mind, we might extract info about the Holy Grail—maybe even prevent more Alters from emerging."
But he never got to finish.
RUMBLE.
This wasn't the explosion of weapons.
It was… water.
Massive pressure surged through the underground network. Hydraulics, still functional despite the blackout, burst open. Water mains ruptured. Sewer vents exploded upward as if Mount Vesuvius had taken root beneath Academy City.
Thousands of tons of water, accelerated by an unseen force, shot skyward.
Manhole covers launched like missiles. A torrent comparable to a vertical tsunami slammed into buildings, shattering structures and roads alike. It was as if Niagara Falls had fallen upward.
Then—sudden silence.
The rain stopped.
The clouds parted.
And under the silvery moonlight, thousands of crystalline droplets hovered mid-air.
A suspended lake, frozen in time. The droplets obeyed not gravity, but intention. They shifted and pulsed, forming sacred symbols in flowing 3D geometries.
Water that lived.
Misaka Mikoto stared upward, her voice lost.
"What… what even is this…?"
No science she knew could explain it. No electric field manipulation, no magnetic containment. It was divine physics—or something older.
And Shen He… remained still.
If the wind was madness—
Then what divine madness now approached, held in the shape of water?
If the girl before had been wind incarnate...
Then behind them, they faced a Saint-class elemental corrupted by the Grail.
And she was only just arriving.
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