Chapter 13

Syr observed from the corner of the room, her eyes soft yet sharp. Her gaze was fixed on Shirou, who was still standing in the kitchen after the incident earlier. There was something about this young man that intrigued her—something beyond just his physical appearance or his friendly demeanor.

Although Shirou seemed like an ordinary person at first glance, she knew there was more to him. She watched as he diligently helped in the kitchen, his hands moving swiftly as he chopped vegetables, prepared ingredients, and cooked with remarkable skill. His face appeared focused and serious, but there was also sincerity in every movement. When Shirou cooked, there was a certain light that emanated from him—a glow that seemed to come from within his darkened soul.

However, that light was not pure. It wasn't the light of a hero filled with courage and nobility, but more like the glint of a rusted metal. A distorted light, covered by a dark layer. Syr could sense a deep wound within Shirou's soul, a scar that seemed not fully healed.

When Shirou tried to protect her from the drunken adventurer earlier, she glimpsed that shining soul more clearly. Even though he was clearly weaker and knew he had no chance of winning against a level 3 adventurer, Shirou still stepped forward without hesitation. There was courage there, but also desperation—like someone forced to keep moving forward because there was no other choice. It was as if he felt he always had to help others, no matter what he had to sacrifice.

"What makes you so stubborn, Shirou?" Syr murmured quietly to herself. She realized that Shirou wasn't just trying to help her, but also fighting something within himself. Perhaps it was a shadow of the past or a trauma that had damaged his soul.

Syr observed more closely, trying to sense the emotions and motives hidden behind Shirou's actions. From what she saw, Shirou's soul seemed built upon deep guilt, a regret that continued to haunt him, compelling him to always seek ways to atone for sins only he knew.

But for Syr—or rather, for Freya, the goddess hidden behind Syr's identity—Shirou's soul did not match the Odr she was waiting for. Odr, who was supposed to have a pure, brave spirit, burning with genuine passion. Shirou's soul was more like a rusted sword, sharp but fragile, filled with a desire to atone for past sins, not driven by a pure passion for life and love.

However, despite all that, there was something intriguing there. Shirou was not an ordinary person. Freya could sense a unique potential within him—something that could shine brightly if that rust were removed. Perhaps this was what made Freya, in her role as Syr, unable to fully ignore him.

Syr smiled slightly. "You are a mystery, Shirou," she whispered to herself, "maybe not the Odr I'm waiting for, but there's something that makes me want to see more of you."

She would continue to watch Shirou, trying to understand more deeply the soul hidden behind his friendly smile, his calm steps, and his stubborn determination. No matter what she would find, Syr knew this journey would be interesting—and perhaps, just perhaps, she would discover something unexpected behind the dark shadows of Shirou's past.

Freya's POV

At the top of Babel, in a grand hall with a throne surrounded by the soft glow of the moon, Freya sat gracefully, gazing out of a large window overlooking the city of Orario. The night breeze swept through her long silver hair, and her sharp silver eyes sparkled like stars in the darkness. In front of her stood Ottar, her loyal protector and the strongest warrior in Freya Familia.

Freya rested her chin on her hand, her delicate fingers tapping lightly on her cheek. "Ottar," her voice was soft yet carried an undeniable power, "what do you think of the boy named Shirou?"

Ottar, with his sturdy posture and ever-serious gaze, frowned slightly. "He is... interesting, Lady Freya," he responded in a deep voice full of respect. "But I do not see anything extraordinary in him, aside from a courage that might be called foolishness."

Freya smiled slightly, recalling how Shirou, a young man who didn't even have a god's blessing, dared to step forward to protect "Syr" from a drunken adventurer. "Courage that some may deem foolish," Freya continued, "might be a great strength for others. There is something in him, a distorted glimmer... like a gem covered in mud."

She stared deeper, as if seeing something far beyond space and time. "His soul is so rusted, yet there is light there. And when he cooks, when he helps others... that glimmer becomes clearer." She smiled, this time wider, full of interest. "He's not the Odr I'm waiting for... but he's still fascinating."

Freya paused for a moment, pondering. "Should I come to him directly? Offer him a place in our Familia? Maybe that way, I could see more clearly what potential lies beneath that rust."

Ottar, hearing this, furrowed his brow. "Lady Freya," he spoke cautiously, "do you think he deserves such an honor? You rarely step in personally to offer someone a place."

Freya turned, her eyes filled with deep fascination. "No, Ottar," she replied softly but firmly. "Not yet. But that doesn't mean he can't become worthy. What do you think, if I came to him myself? Do you think he would accept my offer?"

Ottar thought for a moment before answering. "If you came personally, it might surprise him, perhaps even make him feel honored. But the boy seems like someone with a strong resolve. He might refuse if he feels that his goals differ from what you offer."

Freya smiled again, this time with a hint of laughter dancing on her lips. "Ah, you're right. Shirou is someone filled with doubts, but also with a burning resolve. Very interesting. How about I start this game? A little push might help unlock his potential."

She then looked at Ottar with sharp eyes. "We will see, Ottar. If he truly has potential, then he will come to me. If not... we will let him find his own path. But for now... I will watch and observe further."

Freya rose from her throne, her steps light and graceful, like a shadow dancing under the moonlight. "I want to see how he develops in Orario, how his soul adapts and evolves. And if the time comes... perhaps I will visit him myself."

Ottar bowed his head, accepting the decision with obedience. "As you wish, Lady Freya."

Freya nodded, then gazed again out the window, at the city of Orario shimmering under the night light. "Let's see where this path will lead him," she murmured with a smile on her lips. "Shirou Emiya... I will be waiting."

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