Chapter 6

Shirou was stunned for a moment as the history of the sword Xenovia pulled out filtered through his mind. Each swing of its blade shooting out towers of divine light and incinerating all adversaries.

It was a weapon that had been covered in bound chains that shattered upon Xenovia grabbing its hilt and flourishing it to the side.

Durandal, the Holy Sword of the legendary Paladin of Charlemagne.

He had once glimpsed Durandal from within Gilgamesh's armoury, but it was far different from the sword Xenovia wielded. It was the product of the difference between two worlds. One was an indestructible Noble Phantasm acting as a vessel of three miracles, and the other was a Holy Sword created from the hands of God capable of unleashing an untold amount of Holy power.

Of course, this had its down sides.

The vast amount of power contained within the Durandal in Xenovia's hands was unstable, and he could easily perceive it through the strained expression on Xenovia's face. This must have been the reason as to why Durandal had been chained and stored within a separate dimension.

From the history, he had glimpsed from the Durandal in Xenovia's hands, its previous wielder Roland had used it to fight an army of a hundred-thousand men. Its immense strength was reason enough to comprehend why Xenovia had not yet mastered the sword.

It was at that moment when Xenovia moved to attack with the sword that he felt it, his body faltering before he fell on his knees. This action was not missed by those fighting on the battlefield and certainly not by Xenovia who abandoned any notion of attack and moved by his side.

"What's wrong?" She asked concerned while warding away the enemies with the intense Holy attribute of her sword.

Instead of replying, the swords he had traced, Kanshou and Bakuya, faded away. All that remained were his hands clutching tightly against his chest and a confused expression over his face.

Others who had gathered their courage soon began to join Xenovia in protecting him as they regarded him as not only a leader, but someone capable of helping them escape their current situation. This assumption only solidified after the majority of them drew the conclusion that he possessed a Sacred Gear.

"What's going on with him? He was fine just a second ago!"

"Does it matter? For now, we just have to make sure he stays alive!"

In the midst of all the shouting, he didn't feel as if his mind was presently there, but rather, the world seemed to rotate around the Durandal in Xenovia's hand. There was a feeling surging within him, demanding a release. To this regard, even the Durandal in Xenovia's hand began to emit a thin sheen of light as Xenovia drew closer to him in her bid to protect him.

It was then that he realized it; what it truly was that was happening.

A sword thrummed from the depths of his inner world, resonating and demanding to be used. Even if it was just a copy, prominent swords like Caliburn had a will of their own, dictating when and who would be able to wield them. This sword was no different.

"Miracles call upon miracles."

If you want release, then I will grant you release, he thought as he gritted his teeth and a projection came forward.

From the hands clutching at his chest appeared a black hilt adorned with a pure stylistic coating of gold along the rims and crossguard. Even the pommel made of clear jewel was enshrouded in a neat design.

"A-A sword?!" Someone spoke amidst battle.

It wasn't just any sword either. From the moment the blade emerged, fuller, point, and all, it released a radiance comparable to the Durandal in Xenovia's hands, unwilling to appear inferior in any way.

It was a statement.

Durandal, the Peerless Sword and Noble Phantasm of Roland of Charlemagne, had made an appearance.

While the Durandal in Xenovia's hand was unrestrained, its power emitting from it in waves, the feel of the other Durandal was much more calm and serene. It was the difference between an unrestrained beast, and a patient hunter. Furthermore, the three miracles held within the Noble Phantasm seemed to spring to life at that moment as if in joy.

The only reaction to this was a slight tinkle originating from the necklace around his neck.

"T-That sword, what is it?" Xenovia asked, her brows furrowing and not just from the effort of wielding her own sword.

Many others waited for that exact answer, but that answer would truly shock them all.

Miracles were events unexplainable by either science or nature. They were truly profound. Just as the old scriptures spoke of them in the testament.

When God said, 'Let there be light:' then there was light.

Without reason, without understanding cause, it was truly something inexplicable.

"Miracles are the work of God, and God is a man of miracles,"

Durandal raised by itself in his hand, and without warning one of the miracles stored within leapt to the tip of the blade and shone brightly in accordance with the necklace around his neck.

"The sword of miracles, and a symbol of power," the words coming out of his mouth were being echoed by the will within the necklace. "Once I ask thee, and twice you will answer me more," the Durandal in Xenovia's hands shook violently, as if ready to fly out at any moment, but Xenovia's grip held strong. "By this call, return all to 'Tranquility,' Durandal's light."

A shocked expression flashed and remained over Xenovia's face as she heard the name of the sword within his hands.

"B-But that's?"

Impossible. He knew exactly what she thought. Thus, he wouldn't comment on her expression of disbelief and the way she stared back from the Durandal in her hand, and the Durandal in his. It was a perfectly normal reaction as even he in her situation may have done the same. Even if he had presented Saber with another Excalibur, he was sure she would have been taken aback as well.

For a moment, the world was still.

Then the roof was ripped open, revealing an open sky. From this sky, divine hands of cloud and wind pushed back the attackers until none remained.

It was only after sunlight began to pierce through the clouds that everyone began to regain their senses and wipe away their expressions of befuddlement. In fact, what replaced the befuddlement on their faces was a deep sense of awe and gratitude which only solidified further when they realized they had returned to the peaceful zone they had once been in. The place before they had been transported to that cave like world.

From his understanding of what had just happened, he, through the machinations of the necklace had unleashed one of the three miracles stored within the Noble Phantasm Durandal.

Miracles were unexplainable events created by God, and this is what one would call a miracle. A phenomenon able to even rip apart the fabrics of space itself to return all into proper order, back into a state of tranquility.

With no longer a danger in sight, the necklace around his neck fell silent as the Holy Force emitting from Durandal dimmed. However, the blade itself did not yet wish to fade, remaining despite his intention to dismiss it and put aside to avoid anymore future troubles.

For the time being though, at least everyone would be safe.

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She didn't know what to feel at this point as nothing seemed to make any sense anymore. The sword in her hand, and the sword in Shirou's, they went by the same name. She could even go a step further and admit that they felt the same too. As the true inheritor of Durandal, she had spent a majority of her time getting accustomed to the distinct Holy energy flowing from her sword, making it unmistakable.

At this point, there was only one thing left for her to do.

Her body ached from the effort of controlling the power within the Durandal in her hands, but at this moment, she couldn't be bothered by it. Instead, she slowly walked towards Shirou, stopping in front of him.

"May I hold it?" She asked. It was the only way she could determine everything with a hundred percent confidence.

Shirou seemed to hesitate for a moment, but relented after seeing the earnesty in her gaze.

Presented with the other Durandal, she gently took it upon its hilt and inspected it before her very eyes.

It was the same.

The excess power that had been exuding from her own Durandal seemed to filter into the other seamlessly; proving that there was no difference between the two blades in the first place other than shape and design. What surprised her though was the calm and vibrant energy that the other Durandal Shirou had given her began to exude.

Although it was the same Holy Power that her own sword released, it was the difference between unbridled and controlled. What gave her even more of a pause was that the sword would allow her to wield it, just as Durandal had accepted her as its current owner.

It was then that she swallowed, realizing the implications this matter would bring within the very foundations of the church. And if she was correct in her suspicions about it, it may very well stir up great unrest within even the upper echelons of the church.

It was a sword of miracles; not just a sword of unimaginable power like the Durandal she had summoned.

She wasn't an idiot, and could in fact remember clearly what it was Shirou had said before bringing everyone to safety.

The first clue was the word 'Miracle' with the next verse of 'Once I ask thee, and twice you will answer me more,' as an indication for further thought.

What mattered though was the single plea to return all back into 'Tranquility,' and the subsequent use of evoking Durandal's name with 'Light.'

Light was a mark of God, and arguably one of his greatest symbols within the Faith and in the Heavens above. In this regard, the Durandal Shirou had given her to inspect only made her suspicions rise.

The sword of Miracles, had been able to produce a miracle?

Was the sole thought taking up residence within her mind, and it wasn't just a small miracle either. With this in mind, the verse of 'Once I ask thee, and twice you will answer me more,' immediately began to make sense in her mind. If once was the miracle, then the 'twice you will answer me more,' verse would indicate?

Her eyes narrowed as her suspicions grew. She would take everything back. This kind of discovery would not only generate great unrest within the church, but may even involve the Heavens as well.

A Holy Trinity of Three Miracles.

Once that thought took root in her mind, it was only then that she was able to sense it within the Holy aura of the Durandal Shirou had given her. The presence of two unexplainable phenomenons that could be nothing other than miracles.

If she could draw such a conclusion, then others could too, but the difference was that she had confirmed it for herself.

Miracles were something only God could achieve. Not even the highest level of angel or seraphim could possibly recreate it. In fact, miracles were tied to God himself, and it was known that only he alone could invoke them.

For Shirou to be able to utilize an actual miracle,

This surpassed the level of a mere Sacred Gear. This was a genuine Holy Sword. An identical Durandal. In which case, she turned towards her own Durandal. Did hers wield within it miracles as well?

She shook her head, that fact wasn't important at the moment. It was the realization that three miracles had been able to exist outside of God's authority with two more still unutilized. If Shirou could utilize them, couldn't anyone capable of wielding this sword do the same?

She reluctantly returned Shirou's version of Durandal back to him, feeling a sense of attachment with it due to its exact similarities with her own sword.

"You must take great care to prevent this sword from falling into the wrong hands," she said gravely.

Even now, she would make sure to disclose this matter only to Griselda. She didn't trust anyone else, and it was highly possible for corrupt figures to exist within the church. Valper Galilei was an example.

She didn't know what the church or the Heavens could do with the two remaining miracles, but it was said in the Great War of the Factions that God's miracles alone were game changing, allowing him to even hold back entire armies by himself as he covered rear guard.

This is exactly what miracles were, unable to be reproduced. Even Metatron, for all his power, was not able to defend his followers against the attacks of the other factions in a retreat as God had.

"You must take great care to prevent this sword from falling into the wrong hands," she repeated again for extra emphasis.

Shirou wasn't like her who was raised within the church. He may not know any of the existing power plays that resided within it with each leader vying for authority.

Shirou nodded his head. "Trust me, I'll keep it safe," he said.

She grunted before crossing her arms. "You better," she spoke.

Knowing Shirou's temperament which she had seen personally, she was sure that if given enough incentive, he may very well utilize another miracle without realizing that he might have been mislead.

"On second thought, you are not to leave my side," she ended up deciding as the safest approach.

Her response made Shirou speechless, and even she felt a tad embarrassed and self conscious when he regarded her with bewildered eyes. However, she convinced herself that she wasn't being unreasonable, but rather it was Shirou with his personality that was unreasonable. Mind set firmly at ease, nothing Shirou said would convince her at this point; her embarrassed expression quickly shifting into one of calm neutrality, and the image of her forcing herself on Shirou cementing in people's minds.

Even Irina couldn't help but comment with a heated face. "You're so bold," was what she said.

"It's refreshing though. This is how a girl should act like, straight forward and to the point," Liliana spoke with a devious smile.

The other two of the Marino siblings only shook their heads in pity towards Shirou before going back to attend to the injured. Their looks were ones shared by some of the other males, but not all. To be tied down to a woman so early and one so alluring too, they couldn't contain their jealousy.

Not realizing anything of what was going on around her, she only kept her gaze locked on Shirou who unlike her, could clearly hear what the others were saying and was quickly going red faced.

Seeing the red in Shirou's face, she concluded that he must have been hungry or something and thus she voiced her opinion of allowing him to make food before any plans of what to do. In other's eyes though, this action made it evidently clear who wore the pants in the relationship, drawing barks of laughter from the spectators.

The laughter drew her attention, but she simply had no idea why the others were laughing in the first place. She genuinely smiled though, realizing that the sudden laughter had considerably lightened the air of gloom that had once surrounded the injured.

However, her smile caused a majority of the laughter to settle down, captivated by the beauty possessed within it. The common misconception though was the reason for her smile. Whether it was because she had successfully pulled the reins in on Shirou, or because she was just genuinely happy, no one knew except for her.

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By the time Shirou returned and made food, she was already by her default place beside Shirou with an empty bowl in her hand waiting for it to be filled.

She had long ago run out of ration bars and any other food she could trade with him, and as such, for the longest time she felt undeniable guilt for her actions knowing that gluttony was also a sin. Yet now, for the first time, she felt justified in her actions as she equated her behaviour to a protection fee of sorts.

Without any questioning whatsoever, Shirou placed the food he had made in her bowl, and then promptly began serving portions to everyone else.

Irina who had never tasted the food Shirou had made before was the one most surprised by the unexpected taste.

However, even if Irina had been nice to her before, it was she who would be first to get a second serving before her. It just simply felt natural.

As soon as the food was served and everyone had eaten, she then turned her attention towards the Durandal in her hand, the one she had been given by the church. Its power was truly unrestrained, but she found out that the closer she was to the other Durandal in Shirou's possession, the easier it was for her to control. The reason for this though was something that took her a short amount of time to conclude.

They were both Durandal.

Thus, they were both capable of wielding the same power.

If one released too much, then the other could help siphon off the excess.

Still though, her Durandal was too hard to control at the current moment, and it was far more convenient to keep it sealed until necessary.

What mattered to her, and everyone present now though, was how to get out?

To obtain that answer, all pairs of eyes, even hers, turned subconsciously to stare at Shirou who was unused to all the attention. From the very beginning, it was him who had persevered the hardest to save as many people as he could. Him who had even managed to do so despite his own limitations; rather he broke through them and revealed who he truly was, a selfless idiot of an optimist who had still managed to achieve his goal.

And that point exactly was praise worthy.

At the center of attention, Shirou was absently fiddling with the Durandal in his hand, a complex expression over his face as he murmured quietly about trying to put away the blade, yet being unable to.

Regardless though, he soon answered everyone's question.

Go North-East.

Shirou had that look on his face again as if he knew exactly what was right and what was wrong. The pleasant aura he exuded also contributed to this image, and it was in fact this aura that had gotten him labeled with the title of Holy Man when he was first by the creek.

Unquestioningly, the group had begun to simply follow Shirou's lead, growing more and more confident in their decision to do so when the group never ran into any units of winged sentinels. This was uncommon as even though Grisleda had explained that only some areas contained hordes of them, it was improbable that they wouldn't at least run into one of those mentioned areas. In fact, a few of the examinees in the group had indeed run into other sentinels in their previous travels alone. However, with Shirou leading, this was not the case.

No danger ever appeared under his sights, or at least he never led them into danger.

As the group continued walking North-East, they ended up falling into a comfortable routine. Every morning the group set off after eating and gathering their things and would walk until noon where they set up camp for the day. From there, they would no longer continue walking since they risked the prospect of traveling in the dark after the sun set. It was much more advisable to instead hunt and forage for enough food to feed everyone and allow for breaks. This way, everyone could remain productive and be ready to fight if such a situation were to arise.

However, although this method of travel was easy on everyone, it took a considerable amount of time. They would walk for the majority of the day before setting camp and gathering food. From there, the group would just remain idle in that one location. It was only a spontaneous act of her own doing that changed the previous routine.

As the group was resting for the day, she had grown bored and first challenged Irina to a spar, and then Shirou. From there, she would ask for a spar from the other examinees after every stop. In this way, instead of stagnating in the dimension created in the Dimensional Cross, the examinees could improve. Goading Shirou into the idea, she and Shirou one way or another began to train with the other examinees during resting times as they waited for night fall.

In this way, five weeks eventually passed.

Currently she was sitting by one of many fires that the group had set up as night fall descended. As a habit she had developed, she edged herself closer to the fire to get a good stare at Shirou who was sitting on the other side.

He hadn't changed very much in the past month aside from his hair growing out a bit, but she was the same as well, her hair reaching to her shoulder blades. The only other difference from now and a month before was the maturity she could now see in him. Perhaps it was due to being relied on by so many other in the past few weeks? Or maybe it was because he was simply becoming more and more sure of himself? Either way,

He truly felt like a dependable man.

She couldn't help but keep her eyes on him, only snapping out of her stupor when Shirou shifted his gaze away from hers.

Realizing that she had been staring at him for too long, she schooled her features and asked. "How much longer will we be going North-East for?"

"It shouldn't be long now, possibly a day or two more of travel, and four at the most," Shirou explained before skewering a piece of meat and roasting it by the fire.

She hummed in thought from Shirou's response, wisps of flame from the fire reflecting off her eyes and giving her unique sort of look. It was pretty in fact, to the point of mesmerizing the Marino siblings who had erected their own fire nearby and were quietly eavesdropping.

"Is something wrong?" She ended up asking Shirou.

Shirou's face blanked before he shook his head. "No no, it's nothing," he quickly denied.

She gave him a skeptical look before her hands reached for the skewer and secured it.

Shirou only faintly smiled as he ended up just roasting another skewere from the animal he had caught previously.

It would only be a few more day now until they would reach their destination.

As such, they had arrived at an area with a wide plain and nothing else in sight except for an army of hovering winged sentinels that had yet to notice them.

Shirou motioned for everyone to quite down before he spoke. "I'm going to make a move," he said. "As soon as I'm done, we'll have our way out, but we'll be sure to attract attention," he explained.

She stared at Shirou, and acknowledged his words. Yet what move exactly was he going to be making?

"Once I had asked of thee, and twice you will answer me more," The Durandal in Shirou's hands thrummed to life, white rings forming and circling around it as Holy Force began to build. "Through this second call, grant me 'Power,' Durandal's light!"

It was like a Holy beam of utter annihilation focused only on a sole point within the world. This point could not withstand the strength backing the beam, and instantly shattered a fragment of the world, creating a hole in the dimension.

"Why didn't you just do that before?" She asked along with some of the other examinees.

In fact, even Shirou had the same questioning expression as the rest. It soon disappeared though before he spoke again.

"Because I could not guarantee which dimension we'd return to," he said, shutting up any other questions.

"So, we just jump in, then we're out?" Andrea asked.

Shirou nodded. "We don't have much time though, look."

Just as Shirou had said, the hole Durandal had torn in the dimension was slowly closing.

"O Shit!" Andrea swore as he pulled on his siblings in the direction of the hole.

Many other examinees swiftly followed in a panic.

Shirou though was different. Instead, he focused on repelling the winged sentinels from getting too close to the group. In this regard, he was doing exceptionally well, remnants of the miracle of 'Power' still remaining on Durandal and allowing him to cleave through the sentinels as if they were paper.

Still though, Shirou wasn't the only one to have decided to defend the other examinees. She and Irina had as well.

Irina was aiming for the lower winged sentinels as she found it difficult to attempt anything higher.

She though, had long ago released her version of Durandal, towers of light obliterating low and mid rank winged sentinels alike. However, like she expected, Durandal was still too difficult to control, only able to blast out concentrated bursts of Holy Energy and losing mobility.

Seeing this, she realized that Shirou had approached her.

"It will help you more than me," he said as he gave her his version of Durandal.

Instantly, she felt the difference. The excess energy of her Durandal was being absorbed by the other, allowing her the necessary control without losing any power. It was as if she was meant for these swords. In accordance with her thoughts, both swords shook slightly in her hands. After all, she was the next actual wielder of Durandal, an heir. Another Durandal or not, if one Durandal had accepted her, then another would too.

She felt nigh invincible as she, for the first time, felt as if she had full control of her sword. Winged sentinel after winged sentinel was mowed down until none remained.

"Then I'll go first before either of you," Irina said as the last of the examinees in their group vanished through the hole. "Besides, I wouldn't be of much help if I stayed behind now anyway."

With her piece said, Irina entered the hole within the dimension, leaving only Shirou and her.

"You can go first. I should be good here," she boasted.

Rather than answering, Shirou finished off a few more of the winged sentinels with the black and white falchions he now had in hand. He then frowned as his eyes scanned the now decimated surroundings.

"Something's wrong," Shirou spoke suddenly. "You should go first."

She raised a brow. "I should be fine," she spoke confidently. "But I'll go since you insist."

Setting her gaze on the hole within the dimension, she quickly made her way there, but hesitated just before entering. An eight-winged sentinel had just appeared before her, an explosive lance in hand. It wouldn't be much trouble to maneuver around it, but based on her current strength, this could be an ideal test.

Coming to a decision, she decided to take down one last enemy.

The Durandals in her hands shimmered as they released their Holy Energy, completely destroying the eight-winged sentinel with a substantial amount of resistance.

She smiled then, thinking of the results. If she could still manage to defeat an eight-winged sentinel, then perhaps her strength capped at a ten-winged sentinel?

"Xenovia!"

The moment her name was called, was the moment she realized the unimaginable presence of the being that had appeared beside her.

T-Twelve wings.

It was completely useless to move as her reaction time was too slow.

In that moment as death approached, that feeling instantly vanished to be replaced by utter despair. She had been pushed towards the direction of the hole in the dimension that would lead straight out of the Dimensional Cross, but someone had taken her place in front of the incoming lance's point.

And all of this happened right before her eyes.

Memories of the numerous day they had spent together within the Dimensional Cross flickered across her mind, even the one's from when she had first challenged him to a spar.

She didn't even need to ask why he had done it, she knew him well enough for that.

Even with the other Durandal in her hand making it easier to wield her own, it all didn't matter to her at this point when anything she could do was useless.

She wanted to yell at him, call him an idiot for his actions, but most of all, she wanted him to stop making that face as if this would be the last time they would see each other. It was simply one that was resigned.

At that moment, even the calm façade she'd always maintained began to crumble away and reveal the panic-stricken face of the woman beneath. It was her fault, everything was her fault. If she hadn't been so careless, if she hadn't been so stupid! Then wouldn't this situation never have had happened? She regretted it, more than she ever regretted anything. Loosing herself in that feeling of being invincible with the power she had in her hands.

It had cost her, hurting her in more ways than one. What was Shirou to her? Was he just a friend, or was he something more? Either way, she couldn't bear the thought of losing him. Even more so when she knew that it was the price of her own actions.

She continued to berate herself even as the light energy within the impact lance began to accumulate at the tip of the twelve-winged sentinel's attack. Any moment now and it would explode with an unrestrained amount of power generated by a being of twelve wings.

She should have listened to Griselda's words. She wasn't yet ready to wield Durandal's power. Too immature.

Her thoughts reaching this point, nothing really mattered to her anymore.

As her body was sucked in towards the hole in the dimension and white completely surrounded her vision, she became listless as her ears registered the burst of a mighty explosion in the next moment.

More than ever in her life, she prayed for a miracle.

The Durandal Shirou had given her thrummed in her hand, yet quickly dimmed.

Because only God could create miracles.

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He didn't know if he could make it through this, but he could feel his chest caving in, if not distorting completely from the explosion. That was as expected though from the power of a twelve-winged sentinel.

He had had no time to erect a shield of any kind for himself in the time frame he had to push Xenovia out of the way. Thus, all he had been able to do was reinforce his body and hope for the best. Still, the added durability was enough for him to at least not explode into bits on the spot, but instead send him hurtling through the air at break-neck speed.

He didn't know when, or exactly how far away he had landed, yet he ended up in a place that resembled a grand monolith with far reaching spires on all sides. Small grasses and shrubs were seen just off the edge of his vision, but he couldn't move to look around more due to the severity of his injuries casuing him to black out.

Like always though, when he had come to, the wounds he had sustained had already greatly healed. He didn't know why, but this was because of the effect of a certain sheath stored within his body.

As he pulled himself to his feet, it was then that the voice in the necklace spoke.

"Somehow you have ended up within the control center of this dimension," the voice explained. "Although I suppose that's a good thing as you may be able to simply fix the problem affecting the relic rather than make your way back to the hole in the dimension."

He frowned after listening to the words the voice in the necklace spoke. "Then how do I fix it?"

"That's not something you should think about at the moment, but rather you should know that this place is the most heavily guarded location in this relic," the voice said. "Although you might be happy to know that I will be of great use now for something other than for directions like the previous weeks."

He raised a brow as the voice directed him to step towards one of the spires surrounding the monolith. Almost immediately, the spire shrunk in size as the necklace siphoned off the Holy Energy fueling it. After words, he was then instructed to move towards the rest of the spires, similar events happening to each spire he approached.

It was only when the last spire was gone, did a divine resplendent light emit from the necklace.

"This should be good enough," the voice spoke. "Although even less than a fraction of my strength was recovered, it should be enough."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"You will understand. Just know that you will no longer need to fear any winged-sentinel from now on," the voice said mysteriously. "Sentinels and Winged Sentinels in the first place were designed to only take instruction from a single important being up in Heaven."

He nodded to the voice's words, but he was still a tad confused.

"You will understand eventually. For now, you may make your way towards the monolith," the voice said.

Although he still had questions, he would much rather escape from the Dimensional Cross first. Thus, he moved towards the monolith, pausing as he saw just how many winged sentinels were blocking his path. What was even more frightening was the presence of seven twelve-winged sentinels at the foremost of the group.

"Move aside," the voice within the necklace transmitted its voice out as it expelled a substantial amount of Holy Aura.

To his credit, he did not react outwardly when the winged sentinels did as the voice instructed.

"Curious? Try it yourself. I'll help you," the voice in the necklace spoke.

From there, the voice prompted him to try calling one of the winged sentinels over while still releasing waves of Holy Aura. After doing as the voice suggested, one of the winged sentinels indeed moved towards him, and it was twelve winged as well.

Kneeling, the twelve-winged sentinel awaited instruction.

"How is this possible?" He couldn't help but ask, remembering the strength of just one of these twelve-winged sentinels. Its power alone may have required the use of one of the more taxing Noble Phantasms in his possession.

"Perhaps because we're near the control area," the voice supplied, but it sounded more or less like the voice was attempting to avoid the issue.

Regardless though, he wouldn't question it for the time being as the situation had indeed become favourable. Awkwardly dismissing the twelve-winged sentinel as he wasn't sure if it understood him or not, he walked directly beside the monolith.

The voice in the necklace then instructed him to place his hand against the cold stone, and as soon as he did so, an entrance opened up at the monolith's side.

Within the monolith appeared what looked like an ordinary control room. He could determine this based on experience when he had worked on a similar project within a room in Homurahara Academy in Fuyuki. By project, he meant volunteered to repair a few of the older models of computers.

Reminded of such things, he couldn't help but smile wryly as he realized that the people of Heaven themselves modeled their own technology on what humans had created. That, or it could have been the other way around, but he didn't suppose it mattered.

Walking in, wires were wound across various devices, connecting them to perform several functions. Although he said wires, they were more like ethereal thread that allowed for objects to easily move through them or past them.

Based on the dust on the majority of the screens around him, evidently, he could see just how old the place was. Even some of the screens that were showing various places across the dimension were cracked and tinted with dust, or at least the few that were working.

Of the screens, he could see within the room inside the monolith, only a few appeared to be working order.

Pausing his momentary observations, he quickly used Structural Analysis to discover exactly what it was that had caused the malfunction in the Dimensional Cross.

As Xenovia had explained to him during the resting intervals of their travels, the Dimensional Cross was supposedly a relic used for the training of church exorcists. In this way, potential exorcists could face stronger opponents for training without the threat of death looming over their heads.

It was not supposed to be a place where trainees were doomed for certain death.

Carefully analysing everything that filtered into his sight, he soon came to a stop over a single point in the control room.

Observing this point, he placed a hand down over the contraption and began to fiddle with something loose he felt at the edge of his finger tips. After a few more attempts, he eventually managed to pull out a small paneled device.

What stood out though, was a black feather peaking out from the only damaged portion of the panel.

He raised a brow. This indeed was the main cause of the problem.

"Fallen Angels," the voice in the necklace spoke in a sigh. "Angels who have lost themselves in temptation and have fallen from grace. Their pinioned wings of white, turned pitch black as a sign of their fall."

The voice in the necklace then went on to explain that the Fallen Angels were the third Faction in the Great War. The others being the Angels and the Devils. Although the Fallen Angels were once Angels themselves, their leaders were insistent on fighting to better their lives.

Fallen Angels were the faction at risk the most by both sides. Although some on the side of the Angels were hesitant to formally attack them due to former ties, they didn't welcome them back with open arms either. As for what the Devils thought of them, they saw them as another enemy capable of using light based attacks which was a great danger to Devil kind.

Unwilling to remain in such a position, the Lord Governor of Fallen Angels, Azazel, and his subordinates, lead them in battle to face the other factions.

As the Dimensional Cross was a relic of the Great War of the Factions, there was no doubt that one of the Fallen must have been able to sabotage the relic. Worse, as the particular Fallen must have been part of the team that had been privy to the inner workings of the Dimensional Cross.

With the black feather removed, he watched silently as the damage on the panal appeared to repair itself naturally. Eyes scanning over it for anymore abnormalities, he sighed in relief when he realized that there was none.

Swiftly rummaging through his belongings, he eventually pulled out the orb Griselda had instructed everyone to take.

Its function was simple: it would return the examinee back into the present world, and that was exactly what it was that he wanted to do.

Crushing the white orb in hand, he was immediately sent out as the necklace gave off a firm light which resonated with the Heaven-made cores of seven others.

He had left the Dimension of the Dimensional Cross a moment ago, but unknowingly, he did not leave by himself.

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A blessed child was truly all Griselda could say. Shirou had surpassed the title of a Holy Man as most priests could be considered as such. Instead, as a blessed child, he was a being akin to a saint in the making. From the description, she and the rest of the clergy had obtained from the examinees, Shirou had not only revealed an astonishing amount of Holy Aura, but he had defended the examinees as they crossed back into reality. No one knew though aside from Xenovia, and by extension herself, about why Shirou had yet to come out.

Staring at Xenovia, Griselda couldn't help but clench her fists. From the moment she had returned, she had isolated herself to stand over at a corner of the room, holding two swords with one in each hand. The first of the two swords were easy for her, and many of the clergy to recognize. It was Durandal, the sword gifted to Xenovia at a young age due to her abundant amount of inner light, and as expected, the sword had chosen her as its next wielder.

What threw many in the clergy for a loop though, was the sword in her other hand releasing an identical Holy Aura as Durandal.

Xenovia had already emotionlessly disclosed to Griselda of the sword's identity and power, even telling her of the miracles stored within and shocking her with the information. It was another Durandal with one of three miracles still stored within.

She knew that she could not keep hidden the fact that other examinees might have heard the sword's name, but the point was, they couldn't confirm it as the sword was currently in Xenovia's hands. To this regard, Xenovia refused to let go of it even after some of the more respected clergy went up to her and asked to inspect the blade.

Griselda could understand her daughter's actions at least.

Not only did the other Durandal help contain the power of the original, but it could potentially be a part of the last memory she would ever have of Shirou. There was no way she would be willing to lend it to another, even if it was only for an inspection.

Although Griselda didn't show it, the amount of gratitude she currently had towards Shirou was unmistakably high. He had saved her daughter, perhaps even at the cost of his own life.

"I said, no!" Xenovia glared at one of the more persistent Priests who had insisted on seeing the sword. Perhaps because of her own agitation, a large amount of Holy Energy began to exude from both Durandals she had in hand, effectively dissuading anyone from coming close lest they set her off.

She had then pulled up the hood of her white cloak over her head and a substantial portion of her upper face, covering them from view. From then on, no one approached her as she placed both swords on either side of her and sat down with her knees hugged to her chest.

No one knew how much time passed since then, but no one had left the room. This was because, even if there was a slim chance of Shirou returning, many of the examinees were holding onto it since Shiro was their benefactor. It would be abnormal not to have developed a sort of comradery after being together for a span of nearly four months in the Dimensional Cross. And this sense of comradery was also why people were quite mournful of the people who passed away.

It was only when the bells of the church rung to signal mid-night did any changes occur.

The air seemed to distort around the Dimensional Cross before it spat out a single individual accompanied by seven others.

As soon as Shirou appeared, he realized that he had not come alone, but rather seven of the twelve-winged sentinels had come with him, remaining motionless like statues behind him and rendering him speechless. From what the necklace had said, they would only follow the words of an important individual up in Heaven, yet now they had come here? From what he was told, he had only got them to follow his instruction because he was in the control area of the Dimensional Cross. At least, that was what the necklace had explained.

Regardless, his arrival signaled the start of a commotion from the examinees, and even the clergy whose attention remained solely on the seven twelve-winged sentinels. Within the clergy, the head priest was the one most excited as now he had something to replace the relics that had been broken.

Within the commotion, a lone figure stood up from the far corner, a white hood over her head. From the figure and blue hair with green highlight alone, it was impossible to not realise who it was.

Although others could not see the expression hidden beneath the hood of her cloak, Shirou could. And based on her expression, things did not bode well for him.

Xenovia looked livid, of that he had no doubts. She pushed past the crowds, shoving them aside without a care until she stood standing in front of him.

Shirou compared the expression she had now to the one she had had previously at the lake, and quickly realized that she was far angrier to the point of her shoulders trembling.

Shirou braced himself, closing his eyes as Xenovia lunged forward,

only to feel the wind practically squeezed out of him as she crushed him into a hug. Awkwardly, he returned it under the gazes of the suddenly silent crowd who for a select few were still in a trance due to the appearance of the winged sentinels.

Griselda though was not one of those individuals, and instead had a contemplative gleam flash across her eyes. Shirou was a child that the church would not see often let alone produce. His talents were exceptional, and his abilities, even more so.

The power to create true Holy Swords from nothing. It was on a level far superior to her initial guess of the Sacred Gear Blade Blacksmith.

She then recalled the information Xenovia had provided her, particularly the information of the other Durandal. Through her eyes, Shirou had become quite suitable.

Perhaps she should play match maker? But this was actually quite troubling as she had no experience in the particular field of romance as she had not had one herself. She pursed her lips and thought quietly about the best way to proceed. If Shirou was a blessed child, then the child of a blessed child would surely be another blessed child?

For some reason Griselda had become greatly motivated to this cause, and this stemmed not only from the reaction Xenovia had had before Shirou's return, but from her own maternal sentiments. She had adopted Xenovia since she was just a baby, and as one could tell, was deeply attached to her and wished a good future for her. Yet she still had her obligations to the church. And what better way to fill both obligations than to set Xenovia up with a blessed child? Now just how to go about it.

Xenovia could feel the stares on her, but for the moment, she just didn't care. Let them stare, she had nothing to be ashamed of. She had prayed for a miracle, and God had granted her a miracle. She was allowed to act this selfishly for the time being.

Shirou was her first friend, and he had willingly risked his life for her.

She wasn't angry at him, but at herself who had been the cause of the event.

Her face pressed into his chest, drawing comfort from the fact that he was still alive and not gone.

It was at this point that Griselda walked forward, her gaze unnaturally calm.

She opened her mouth and whispered into Shirou's ear. "Mr. Emiya," she spoke robotically as if she had just rehearsed the words.

"When can I expect a baby?"