Shinji Matou at Your Service-Chapter 1034: The Successor of Will

As if in response to Assassin's words, a crimson light, like burning iron, streaked across the night sky and fell directly on the other side of the mountain.

Over there, a young man and two women, who had just escaped the clutches of a vampire, were frantically running, gasping for breath. Yet, none of them complained of fatigue, nor did they stop.

Because stopping would be betraying that old man—the legendary swordsmith who had sacrificed his life to save them, forgoing the second chance at life he had struggled so hard to attain.

Shirou leading the way suddenly looked up, as if sensing something in the sky, and murmured, "Master?"

Then, the crimson light fell straight into his hand.

Without even needing to look, he knew what it was from the feel of it.

It was his master's most cherished possession, the hammer that was said to embody the swordsmith's very life. In the entire forge, this was the one item his master had never allowed him to touch.

But now, that hammer had been passed into his hands, accompanied by weak yet soul-penetrating words.

"From now on, it's up to you. From today onward, you are Senji Muramasa. You must finish what I could not."

In that instant, tears streamed down Shirou's face.

Having grown up in a closed environment, knowing nothing but sword forging, he felt for the first time the weight of life and the inheritance of will.

For the first time, his once simple world was tinged with gray. But instead of dimming his world, that grayness made it more real.

Just like the words the old man, now gone, had often said—

"Fire burns the earth, melting it into iron. After countless refinements, it becomes steel. A thousand strikes forge a legendary blade!"

To transform from ore into a legendary sword requires countless trials, and people are no different.

Shirou had finally begun his transformation from steel to sword—a process known as maturity.

When he came to his senses, the hammer was already hanging at his waist without him realizing it, and his legs continued to move mechanically forward, step after step.

"Big brother, are you okay?"

Mana, perched on her mother's shoulder, tugged at Shirou's sleeve.

"Is it because of Grandpa...? It's all my fault. If it hadn't been for me, Grandpa wouldn't have..."

"It's not your fault, Mana," Shirou turned his head and forced a smile.

"It's those monsters' fault. And my master hasn't left me; he's still here with me."

His rough hand gripped the hammer. The once-dull tool instantly blazed with crimson light, like the flames in a forge, surging into hi's body.

It was the will of the old man, a will that had remained unchanged in life or death, and his final entrustment.

"My master's will is now mine. From today onward, I am Senji Muramasa. I will forge a divine blade that can sever fate, sever destiny, and sever karma. With this sword, I will slay demons and evil!"

At that moment, Shirou's figure seemed to grow taller, and the way he held the hammer was almost identical to the old man.

Perhaps this was what they called inheritance.

The master leaves his hopes to his disciple, and the disciple takes up the master's will and continues forward.

It had always been this way throughout history.

"I will not stop. I will keep moving forward."

For the first time in the seventeen years of his life, he felt such sorrow, yet also such resolve.

As if infected by this will, Shiki, usually indifferent, now brimmed with fighting spirit. She slapped his shoulder and said:

"Good, that's the spirit we need. We'll support you with all we've got. You focus on forging the sword; we'll focus on the killing—Mana, do you remember what I once told you about killing?"

"I remember. A person can only kill one person in a lifetime."

"Exactly. A person can only bear the value of one life. If you take someone else's life, you use up your death, and you can neither kill yourself nor die as a human."

A trace of sorrow flickered in Shiki's dark eyes, something she hadn't shown even when learning of Senji Muramasa's death.

"But killing is different. No matter the reason, it's simply because you want to kill, just like how right now I want to kill those monsters. I haven't felt such a strong urge to kill in a long time."

The dried blood on her lips became moist again, licked by her tongue. The demon-slaying sword [Higan-kiri] trembled with anticipation.

Shiki Ryougi, who had become increasingly normal since becoming a mother, had finally rediscovered her old self—the self of a killer.

That overwhelming bloodlust made the newly appointed Senji Muramasa shudder involuntarily. But the killer's daughter, Mana, remained unaffected by the murderous aura. She rested her chin on her hand and said, "Right now, neither Big Brother nor mom can do it."

"So what should we do?"

Shiki asked, showing none of a mother's authority in this matter.

"Keep running. There seems to be a village up ahead."

As they ran, they gradually returned to the main road.

"A village?"

Shirou froze and immediately stopped.

"No, we can't go there. We can't lead the monsters to the village."

"That's right. Those aren't things ordinary people can deal with."

Shiki also nodded.

"Mana, do you have any other ideas?"

"I think it's the best way. We don't need to stay long, just long enough to borrow a phone and contact Sensei or Aunt Sakura. They'll come to save us."

"Do you know the Matou family's phone number?"

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"No, but mom should know, right?"

Mana tilted her head and looked at her mother in confusion. Shiki shook her head, her voice weakening.

"I don't know. I never remember those things..."

"Mom!"

Mana was nearly in tears. If she were a little older and knew some internet slang, she would probably have called her mother useless and impossible to carry.

Feeling somewhat embarrassed by her daughter's stare, Shiki hurriedly added, "I remember Kokutou's number. He probably has the Matou family's contact information."

"Then hurry up."

Shiki responded with an "Oh" and quickened her pace.

Shirou followed behind in a daze, completely unsure who the real mother was at this point.

At the end of the road was not quite a village, as there were only a few wooden houses surrounding a courtyard—except there was no courtyard wall. The wooden houses, though old, had been freshly painted, indicating regular upkeep.

What excited them even more was the warm glow of incandescent lights from the windows. Someone lived there, and the place was fully equipped with modern household appliances.

Mana jumped down from Shiki's shoulder and ran up to knock on the door.

"Is anyone home? Sorry to bother you."

"Coming, coming."

A young woman's voice answered from inside, accompanied by the sound of slippers shuffling across the floor.

Soon, the door opened outward, revealing a woman with a strikingly heroic face.

The three people outside were all stunned when they saw her.

And the person inside was equally stunned.

Because the woman's face looked almost exactly like Shiki Ryougi's, except for the color of her hair—it was as if they had been cast from the same mold.