Fate: Beyond the Gate

4

Balmung, the sword of Siegfried. It was a crystalized legend, a Noble Phantasm that slays dragons, and would show increasing effectiveness against any of their kin.

In this case, the red dragon flew away on tattered wings after only the first slash that had yet to realize Balmung's true power as the name wasn't invoked.
Perhaps it was the feeling that the sword in his hands gave off, but more than anything, Shirou was just felt relieved as he crumpled into an exhausted heap on the ground. He was just barely able to use Balmung as a crutch in his exhaustion. His veins were popped over his skin, and his breathing was hoarse.
He was a failure as a magus since for the longest time, he'd never properly utilized his Magic Circuits. They were the conductors of magecraft and would allow a magus to actualize their mysteries, and in his case, years of unuse had left them performing at less-than-optimal capacity.

Sure, his current state revealed the toll he'd paid, but a majority of the injuries actually came from when he charged right into the Dragon's breath attack earlier to save a group of people he saw residing in the trees.
Noble Phantasms like Balmung required a certain level of energy that he ordinarily would have trouble meeting. However, it felt different this time. Rather than transporting the weapons of his reality marble into reality through Tracing, it felt more like they were already there and just waiting to be called.
It was likely that there must be some sort of effect behind this phenomenon, and he was willing to bet that it had something to do with the mysterious Gate that had suddenly appeared in his reality marble.
Through the Gate, the two worlds were connected which altered some aspects of his craft.
To reiterate, the act of Tracing itself was different. He'd tried to Trace Balmung into his hands, but what happened instead was that it appeared rushing over the horizon to present itself to him.

Unknown to him in the spur of the moment, but when he'd Traced Balmung, the weapon itself had shot through the Gate in order to reach him, baffling many magi that saw it zip by.

It was just another mystery, and one that he didn't feel like thinking about as pain caused him to grit his teeth.
His forearms were burned, parts of his skin blackened, yet if one looked closely enough, they'd see that he was already healing. In any case, Lord Elmelloi arrived near him as he was catching his breath.
"You know, I didn't think you'd actually manage this on your own," Waver said flatly while holding a cigarette between his lips which he soon lit. He inhaled, then let out a puff. "Admittedly, I'd never imagined that Ms. Tohsaka's tag-along would be this capable… or reckless."
Waver was glaring, yet there wasn't much heat in his stare, rather there was a hint of nostalgia.
Shirou had noticed it before, but at times, Waver looked at him as if Waver was remembering certain memories of a time long ago.
"Impulsive, refusal to comply to orders, dragging me along to problems not of my own making, perhaps he would have liked you," Waver mumbled before he grew stern.
Shirou could guess the reason for Waver's abrupt change. If they were alone before where Shirou had landed after attacking the red dragon, now they had several visitors. Each of them wore green garments fashioned from what looked to be leaves. Their hair was almost platinum in colour, long and reaching down to their waists.
Several men and women were carrying bows hung around their shoulders, a majority of which were either badly charred or broken entirely.
Just looking at the people, everyone was in a sorry state appearing just as bad as Shirou. However, this wasn't the aspect Shirou and Waver focused on, rather, it was the pointed ears of every stranger in front of them.
"Phantasmals," Waver increased his weariness. Unlike Shirou, he knew that phantasmal species generally outclassed most humans in regards to magical affinity. The people around were clearly Elves, and if there was one thing that was clear, Elves and the Fae of Arthurian folklore shared similar legends.
These elves may not be the elves Waver was imagining, but caution was a prudent trait to have. He hummed in thought while readying his magecraft in the case of an emergency. This excursion has already run its course. It should be time to be heading back now to decide on a plan of action.