Shirou was running without a care for his image, magical patterns flashing over his skin and reinforcing his body as he sprinted directly towards the Sitri Family Manor.
The father could tell it was an ambush by their faces, the distraught and sorrow on their faces showed they lost someone and couldn't go back. Escaping barely with their lives, Makarov shook his head as he continued to work on the farm. He knew to be an adventurer and mercenary was a hard job with consequences to come with such a dangerous job. But having to swallow the fact it could be one of his sons coming back on that cart would break him.
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