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🕑 Added 2025-07-24 17:16:15 +0000 UTCChapter 246: A Quiet Conclusion and Resolution
Riku’s actions naturally threw Angra Mainyu into a panic, but as nothing more than a lingering ghost, it could only watch helplessly from the sidelines, unable to do anything on its own. However, once Riku started his attempt, he found himself a bit stumped. The sheer scale of this “Holy Grail System” was far beyond what he’d imagined.
The entire Greater Holy Grail System was massive. Riku estimated it spanned at least a few square kilometers. At its core, the heart of the Greater Grail was none other than Justeaze, disassembled and transformed into a magical circuit stretching a kilometer in diameter. This was the result of her magical circuits endlessly expanding and multiplying, covering nearly a square kilometer just on their own. No wonder it could tap into the leyline’s magical energy.
Normally, a magus couldn’t just brute-force their way into drawing power from a leyline like that. Only a magus from the Age of Gods might have the means, and even then, they couldn’t recklessly drain a leyline dry. But this “Greater Holy Grail System,” this “Justeaze,” could do exactly that. However, siphoning off massive amounts of magical energy all at once risked depleting the leyline entirely—a scenario no one wanted. That’s why it took roughly sixty years to slowly accumulate the necessary power.
This terrifyingly vast magical circuit was the key to sustaining the “Greater Holy Grail System.” By now, Justeaze had long lost her sense of self, reduced to something akin to an AI, mechanically repeating the cycle of Holy Grail Wars over and over. It made sense—had Justeaze retained her consciousness, there’s no way she’d tolerate Angra Mainyu’s existence.
Riku quickly gave up on the idea of directly controlling the Grail System. It just wasn’t feasible; it would take far too long. Thanks to consuming a large amount of Kibutsuji Muzan’s flesh, his physical condition had drastically improved, boosting the transformative abilities of his “Blood Conversion” and “Shadow Hand” to new heights. But even that wasn’t enough to quickly convert a system of this magnitude. The difficulty was simply too high.
“Looks like this approach won’t work. I’ll have to come back and try again later,” Riku said decisively. Converting the entire Grail System would take years, and while that wasn’t much compared to his lifespan, he wasn’t yet at the point where he could casually disregard time. At this stage in his life, Riku had no interest in spending years here converting this thing. He was brimming with energy and curiosity, eager to explore the world. Who knew if he’d still have this mindset in a few thousand or ten thousand years?
“You…” Angra Mainyu let out a sigh of relief as Riku relented. The Grail System’s own will wouldn’t do anything to Angra Mainyu, allowing it to pollute and twist the system as it pleased. But if the Grail System fell into Riku’s hands, Angra Mainyu’s fate would likely be far less certain.
Looking at the relieved Angra Mainyu, Riku felt a twinge of pity. In truth, what Angra Mainyu sought was doomed to be unattainable. Its essence was nothingness. Even if it managed to manifest in the world, that very essence would cause it to vanish in an instant. The “Angra Mainyu” before him was, in essence, a distorted concept—a warped product born from the vengeful hatred of an innocent youth combined with the legend of “All the World’s Evil.” Before being summoned by the Einzbern family, it had been tightly bound to the altar where that youth had perished, existing in a strange state of being both present and yet not.
To say it didn’t exist would be wrong—it was undeniably something. But to say it existed? You couldn’t see or touch it, and it lacked any independent consciousness, making it practically nonexistent.
“Poor thing,” Riku muttered, shaking his head. He left the inner chamber of the Greater Grail through the opening. From the outside, the Greater Grail, reinforced by an immense amount of magical energy, was starting to take on a faint silhouette—the “Heaven’s Feel,” the illusory form of the Third Magic, the true essence of Justeaze, this flawed “Great Chalice.”
The Einzbern family had always pursued the complete realization of the Third Magic. In fact, the easiest wish for this “Holy Grail” to grant was the completion of the Third Magic: the materialization of the soul. After all, the system’s core was built by the Einzberns, who were obsessed with recreating the Third Magic, and Justeaze herself was essentially an “incomplete Third Magic” product.
As for the Third Magic itself, Riku wasn’t particularly interested. Its core promises—eternal life, freedom from disease, and the ability to freely change form—were abilities he already possessed. He could even grant the Third Magic to others, making its functions redundant for him. If Riku revealed his full capabilities to the Einzbern homunculi, they’d probably fall to their knees and pledge loyalty on the spot. He was, in effect, a living embodiment of the Third Magic. Even if the actual Third Magic’s magus were summoned, they’d likely see Riku as a user of it.
Interestingly, the Third Magic seemed to be the most accessible among the great magics. The Einzberns’ disciples of the Third Magic had created Justeaze, and there were others like Aozaki Touko, Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, or even “Beowulf” the werewolf—beings who either achieved or came close to achieving the Third Magic were more common than those tied to other magics.
Buzz buzz buzz!
At the Fuyuki City Community Center, under the watchful eyes of Emiya Kiritsugu, Matou Kariya, and Saber, the “Lesser Holy Grail” had stabilized once more, though the magical energy within it was rapidly depleting. Saber, meanwhile, felt a tugging force. As the Grail System’s magical energy drained, she was about to return—not to the Throne of Heroes, but to the moment of her death. Her participation in the Holy Grail War was thanks to a lousy contract with Alaya, trading her eternal servitude for a chance to obtain the Grail and change Britannia’s fate.
Having failed to secure the Grail, she would now return to her past—or rather, her present, the moment of her death.
“Maybe it’s time to let the frozen clock start ticking again,” Altria murmured. The Grail couldn’t fulfill her dream, and under Lancelot’s influence, her resolve was wavering. She was beginning to let go of her burdens. No matter how much she regretted her past, sometimes the perspectives of those involved mattered most.
Lancelot’s words echoed in her mind: it was precisely because she was that kind of king that they followed her, creating a glorious era together. A different king might not have caused them such headaches, but they also wouldn’t have sworn loyalty to such a ruler—or achieved what they did.
Riku’s words rang true. If she could go back, she’d rally everyone and try again, rather than give up. If she had a second chance, she was certain she could do better. Before drawing the Sword of Selection, Saber had known the inevitable outcome, yet she’d steadfastly walked the path of kingship, believing she could change the ending through her own strength. Why couldn’t she do better with another try?
Sadly, it was an impossible dream.
Saber’s form began to fade, and at that moment, Riku arrived at the Fuyuki City Community Center, witnessing the scene. To him, Saber’s current mindset suggested she’d make the right choice—to accept her life and its outcome. This King Arthur had her own endpoint, her own “Avalon,” the “Fairy Realm,” a destination only she could reach.
This “Avalon” was akin to a hidden facet of the world’s underside, a realm untouched by human exploration, nearly impossible for humans to reach. After the Age of Gods faded and humanity took center stage, the spirits, divine beasts, and other such beings either vanished like the gods or retreated to the world’s underside, rarely appearing in the human world anymore. The decline of the Age of Gods varied by region, with Britannia being one of the later ones, which explained the presence of figures like Merlin by Arthur’s side. In a way, Arthur’s very existence was a remnant of Britannia’s lingering mythology.
As Saber’s form faded completely, the Grail System’s magical energy was heavily depleted, causing phenomena to manifest briefly. But it didn’t last long, and no accidents or “leakage incidents” occurred until the stored magical energy was fully exhausted.
Soon, with the magical energy depleted, the Grail System fell completely dormant. Riku, however, didn’t see any “hole leading to the Root” appear.
“So, hitching a ride to the Root was a scam after all?” Riku remarked, his expression odd. In one possible outcome, Illya had used the Grail to achieve the Third Magic, proving the Grail was capable of it. But “reaching the Root”? That still seemed like a pipe dream, existing only in theory.
Perhaps achieving the Third Magic was, in some sense, akin to touching the Root?
“The Root isn’t something just anyone can reach,” Tohsaka Tokiomi, a traditional magus, offered his perspective, though it was purely theoretical. To him, “hitching a ride to the Root” wasn’t a scam—he firmly believed it was possible. But it required talent, and not just anyone could pass through the “hole.”
“What kind of talent do the Tohsakas have?” Riku asked, glancing at Tokiomi. They were on their way to Ryudou Temple on Mount Enzou, and though Riku had a good grasp of the Grail System, he wanted to check it out one more time, bringing along Tokiomi, the professional magus, for good measure.
Emiya Kiritsugu treated magecraft as a tool, caring little for complex theories, while Matou Kariya was a crash-course magus who likely knew less than Riku and had zero grasp of theory. A professional like Tokiomi was definitely needed.
“The Second Magic,” Tokiomi said proudly. He knew he wasn’t naturally gifted physically, but he considered himself skilled in magecraft. Plus, his family had access to the Second Magic, which he believed gave him a shot at reaching the Root. After all, the Second Magic came first, and only then did the possibility of touching the Root arise. The “Jewel Mage,” Zelretch, hadn’t gained his magic by reaching the Root but by touching it through his own power. The same went for the Third and Fourth Magics. Only the First and Fifth Magics were obtained by reaching the Root.
With a “ride” to hitch and a “ticket” from the past, Tokiomi felt he had a better chance than most magi.
“You’ve got it all figured out,” Riku said, shaking his head. Magi could be obsessive, willing to chase even the slimmest chance of reaching the Root, the pinnacle of magecraft. Take Emiya Norikata, who’d come up with creating a mini-time barrier to simulate a Big Bang. Tokiomi’s ideas weren’t even that outlandish by comparison.
Matou Kariya, listening nearby, shook his head. To him, magi were lunatics who’d sacrifice everything for fleeting hopes. Growing up under the oppressive weight of the Matou patriarch and daring to rebel had left Kariya with a deep bias against magi. Unfortunately, every magus he encountered only reinforced that bias.
Tokiomi glanced at Kariya but said nothing, merely shaking his head, clearly thinking there was no point in arguing. This only irked Kariya further, as Tokiomi was undeniably one of the main culprits deepening his prejudice.
“Devil, what do you plan to do with this Grail System?” Emiya Kiritsugu asked from the driver’s seat. The four were in a car, with Kiritsugu driving, Riku in the passenger seat, and Tokiomi and Kariya in the back.
Kiritsugu’s expression was serious. Since no “leakage incident” had occurred, he wasn’t as despondent as he might’ve been, but he was still a bit lost, unsure of what to do next. He’d pinned his hopes on the Grail, on a “miracle,” because he was dissatisfied with his old “kill the few to save the many” approach. Now that the “miracle” was gone, should he fall back on his old methods?
For now, the immediate issue was resolving the Holy Grail War. The Grail’s will, brimming with malice toward humanity, chilled him to the bone. He couldn’t allow such a thing to exist. If its power were unleashed, the destruction it could cause would be catastrophic.
Chapter 247: The Einzbern Homunculi
“We’ll have to see it to know.”
Kirei responded calmly, understanding Emiya Kiritsugu’s mindset. This “messenger of justice” wanted to destroy the “Holy Grail system” to put an end to it all, preventing anyone from making a wish in the future.
Having witnessed the twisted nature of “Angra Mainyu,” it was a decision that felt very much like Kiritsugu. Despite his age, the guy could still come off as a bit chuuni at times.
“Alright, let’s check it out first.”
Kiritsugu didn’t say much more. His plan was simple: no matter what he did next, the Holy Grail system had to be destroyed first. It was a top priority.
But there was something even more urgent—perhaps the most important thing of all: saving Illya, his daughter with Irisviel. Irisviel had already died in this Holy Grail War, and he couldn’t bear to watch Illya become another sacrifice.
After the crushing blow of the “Holy Grail system,” Kiritsugu’s personality had noticeably shifted. He’d come chasing a “miracle” because his beliefs had wavered. Now, with that miracle gone, he was steeped in pessimism about the future. His only focus was saving his daughter. As for being a “hero of justice”? That could wait.
Soon, the group of four arrived at Ryuudou Temple on Enzou Mountain. Led by Tohsaka Tokiomi, they descended into the underground cavern. As a proper magus of the “Three Founding Families,” Tokiomi was intimately familiar with the place. The Tohsaka family, tied to the land’s ley lines, kept meticulous records.
The three magi present could technically be called part of the “Three Families,” but one was a “proxy,” another a “crash-course magus.” Only Tokiomi could actually contribute, while the other two were clueless about the setup.
Ryuudou Temple, one of Fuyuki’s “scenic landmarks,” wasn’t exactly bustling. Tucked away on a remote mountain, it saw few visitors, especially at night. Kirei and the others easily reached their target.
“This place’s ley line is called the Dragon’s Den, the cave where a dragon resides. It’s also the origin of Ryuudou Temple’s name,” Tokiomi explained, clearly well-versed as the local ley line manager. In normal times, Tokiomi was exceptional in every way, only slightly outshone by geniuses like Kenneth.
The group entered the “Dragon’s Den” and saw a massive, mortar-shaped rock formation—almost like a volcanic crater. Its surface was etched with an enormous, eerie magic circle. This was the true core of the Holy Grail War: the Greater Grail, the “Heaven’s Feel.”
Layer upon layer of intricate, otherworldly circuits covered it. This was the homunculus “Justeaze,” the “Winter Saint” embodying an incomplete Third Magic. After her self-sacrifice, she multiplied here, transforming the original altar into what stood before them.
“This…”
Kiritsugu and Matou Kariya were stunned, struggling to believe this was the “Greater Grail.”
At that moment, the “Magus Killer” Kiritsugu realized destroying the Grail system wouldn’t be easy. The system’s footprint was massive. The Greater Grail was just the core, surrounded by an expansive magic array.
Of course, with enough explosives, leveling Enzou Mountain itself wasn’t impossible.
“Not exactly easy to deal with,” Kirei remarked, clicking his tongue. But “not easy” didn’t mean impossible. In some parallel worlds, the Grail system had been relocated.
In one such world, the Fourth War never happened because a mustachioed, squid-loving man stole the Greater Grail after the Third War.
The Einzbern homunculi clearly lacked the ability to recreate “Justeaze.” She was crafted by the disciples of the Third Magic’s sorcerer. Without the Greater Grail, the Holy Grail War stalled, though the homunculi never stopped trying to rebuild it.
Even after their creators gave up, the homunculi persisted. Without that purpose, they wouldn’t know why they existed.
The other two Founding Families met different fates. The Matou family, unable to adapt, fell into decline without a worthy heir. The Tohsaka family, meanwhile, embraced the path of their founder, Nagato Tohsaka, blending magecraft and martial arts, awakening their bloodline’s combat prowess.
Tohsaka Rin became a magic-fist fighter, while her sister Sakura was adopted by the Edelfelt family, their grandmother’s lineage—a prestigious Finnish mage family. Sakura thrived there, far better than she would have with the Matou, and teamed up with her adoptive sister as a wrestling duo.
As for “Emiya Shirou,” he lived a happy, ordinary life in Fuyuki. Sometimes, normalcy was its own kind of happiness.
“The Holy Grail War only brings tragedy to Fuyuki. It has to be destroyed,” Kiritsugu declared, already planning to gather enough explosives to level Enzou Mountain, no matter the cost.
Destroying the mountain would cause casualties, but to save the many, sacrificing the few was worth it. That was Kiritsugu’s long-held belief in “salvation.” He knew now it wasn’t ideal, but if forced to choose, he’d still save the greater number without hesitation.
Compared to the devastation the Grail could unleash on Fuyuki if released, the losses from destroying Enzou Mountain were negligible—acceptable sacrifices.
“Hold on, I’ve got a plan,” Kirei said. If that mustachioed guy could move the Greater Grail, why couldn’t he?
Tokiomi and Kariya watched from the sidelines. Though they were of the Three Families’ bloodlines, they had no say in handling the Grail system. It was all up to Kirei.
After circling the cavern, Kirei figured it out. The sprawling magic arrays on the ground weren’t the key—they could be redrawn elsewhere. The only critical piece was the Greater Grail itself.
“Doesn’t that make things simple?”
Kirei rubbed his hands together. It was straightforward now. He might not be able to “refine” it quickly, but he could take it away.
Whoosh!
Kirei exhaled, slamming his palm onto the ground. Shadows surged from him, spreading across the floor, rapidly expanding beneath the Greater Grail.
Under Kiritsugu, Tokiomi, and Kariya’s gazes, the Greater Grail began to sink, as if swallowed by the shadows.
“This…”
The three were stunned. The thing was massive!
Kirei wasn’t fazed. Sixty years ago, humans managed to move it with sheer manpower. If humans could do that much, magecraft might not even compare. Maybe that’s why the Age of Gods faded—humanity, the world’s new protagonists, didn’t need magecraft anymore. Technology was the new magic.
Using his Blood Demon Technique to its fullest, Kirei’s shadows laboriously consumed the Greater Grail. After some effort, it was finally stored in his Shadow Realm. His Shadow Realm was spacious enough that the Greater Grail didn’t stand out much—it just added a bit of scenery to the empty space.
Kirei placed it next to the Sky-Supporting Tower, making the Greater Grail look even smaller. Two towers: one housing the “Demon King,” the other a key to achieving the Third Magic. It was practically a “holy site” for those seeking immortality.
Of course, the Greater Grail still needed charging to be used. Kirei took it to prevent its destruction. Refining it would take time, and since he’d be leaving this world, keeping it here wasn’t safe. Better to take it with him.
“Alright, that’s settled,” Kirei said, dusting off his hands. His gaze turned to Kiritsugu. With the Greater Grail secured, the Lesser Grail was next.
He looked at Kiritsugu because the Lesser Grail was with him—formed from Irisviel’s body. Kirei wasn’t about to refine it directly; there were other ways to handle the Lesser Grail.
“Let’s go meet those homunculi.”
Kirei and Kiritsugu struck a deal: Kiritsugu would take him to the Einzbern family, and Kirei would help rescue Illya.
Kiritsugu had a sinking feeling that saving Illya would be tough. He’d failed to fulfill his agreement with the Einzberns, but with Kirei’s help, things would be much easier. Raw power could change a lot.
“Alright,” Kiritsugu agreed without hesitation. Illya was the only light left in his heart, and he had to save her.
The Einzbern family was in Germany. Kirei and Kiritsugu flew there, while Kariya and Tokiomi stayed behind. Tokiomi had to deal with Fuyuki’s affairs, as the Church had already contacted him.
Led by Kiritsugu, the two arrived in a forested, mountainous area in Germany. But they couldn’t find the Einzbern castle.
They were shut out. The Einzbern estate was protected by a barrier that hid the path, leaving outsiders wandering outside.
Clearly, Kiritsugu’s failure had angered the Einzberns. They refused him entry and certainly wouldn’t hand over Illya, prepared for the next Grail War. Not killing Kiritsugu was already generous—mostly because the homunculi weren’t great fighters, while Kiritsugu was a master.
The Einzbern homunculi weren’t overly vengeful. Though Kiritsugu’s failure cost them this Grail War, they didn’t want to waste resources hunting down the Magus Killer.
“Now what?” Kiritsugu asked Kirei. They were stuck in the forest barrier. Kiritsugu’s body was still in decent shape, and he could locate the barrier’s starting point, but his magecraft wasn’t enough to break through.
The Einzberns weren’t some minor family. Their estate, established for nearly two millennia, was at its peak for the first thousand years under the Third Magic’s disciples. The barrier, crafted by those magi, could fend off most magi in the world.
“Follow me,” Kirei said with a smile. Kiritsugu had led them correctly so far, but his skills ended here, leaving him stuck.
Kiritsugu didn’t hesitate, following Kirei. He was out of options and had to rely on him.
Kirei moved confidently, breezing through the forest barrier as if it didn’t exist. And it didn’t—for him. The [Limit System] ensured he was immune to mental or perceptual controls like this maze-like barrier. It was as good as nothing.
“There’s the Einzbern castle.”
Emerging from the barrier, Kiritsugu grew excited seeing the distant castle. Illya was so close—he had to save her from this pit!
But before they could act, a group of homunculi surrounded them. Dressed in maid outfits and wielding various weapons, they were clearly the Einzbern’s combat maids.
“They really all look the same,” Kirei remarked, scanning them. The homunculi shared one distinct trait: they all resembled Irisviel—or rather, “Justeaze,” the Winter Saint they were modeled after. The only differences were minor, like hairstyles, probably randomized at creation.
“Emiya Kiritsugu, you shouldn’t have come!” a maid wielding a long sword said coldly.
“But I had to,” Kiritsugu replied, taking a deep breath and readying for battle. With Kirei by his side, he was confident they could tear through the Einzbern family today.
Chapter 248: The Least Likely Thing to Succeed
The homunculus warriors of the Einzbern family were true death soldiers—or rather, they had no concept of fearing death at all. Homunculi, in a sense, were essentially “AI.” Most lacked the capacity for independent thought, operating purely as “puppets” following pre-programmed directives.
They had no heart, only repeating the same words, tirelessly carrying out their assigned tasks. Their sole purpose was to fulfill the intent of their creation, acting with pure, unwavering dedication.
The combat maid homunculi before them were created with one mission: to protect the safety of the Einzbern castle.
“Kill!”
The expressionless combat maids charged forward. Emiya Kiritsugu drew his gun, while Riku waved his hand, summoning rows of shadowy guards in front of him. These shadow guards were pitch-black, blocky, and somewhat bizarre in appearance, wielding large-caliber rifles.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
The shadow guards opened fire, unleashing a barrage on the combat maids. The dark bullets easily pierced through their bodies.
“Defend!”
At the command, several combat maids raised shields to block the front. Their weapons, clearly outdated, consisted of swords, spears, axes, and other cold weapons, unable to keep up with modern advancements. Facing the shadow guards’ gunfire, they could only rely on shields for defense before retaliating with bows and crossbows.
Swish, swish, swish!
Arrows and bolts flew toward the shadow guards but had little effect. The projectiles bounced harmlessly off the solidified shadow guards. Enhanced by Riku’s power, these guards, originally mechanical sentinels, were now far tougher than before, impervious to mere arrows.
Several shadow guards brandished greatswords and charged into the combat maids’ formation, sparking a brutal melee.
It was truly “AI” versus “AI”—one side a product of alchemy, the other a creation of Riku’s “new alchemy” from the 2070s. Calling his shadow mechanical guards “golems” crafted by this futuristic alchemy wasn’t far off. Science was the “new magecraft,” and robots were the “new golems.”
Clang, clang, clang!
Blades clashed as the combat maids fearlessly engaged the shadow guards, their weapons glowing with magical enhancements.
Splurch!
One combat maid was cleaved in two by a single strike, while the shadow guards took several hits. Their shadowy forms wavered but didn’t dissipate. Riku’s Blood Demon Art had grown increasingly potent, directly boosting the resilience of his transformed shadow guards.
Splurch!
A greatsword swept through, cutting down several more combat maids. The shadow guards rampaged through the homunculi, clearly dominating. The “new alchemy” of the 2070s, amplified by Riku’s Blood Demon Art, was simply superior.
The combat maids fought to the death without hesitation or emotion. Without awakening self-awareness, they would never flee or comprehend the value of their own “lives.” But achieving such awareness was incredibly difficult—not every homunculus could awaken like Siegfried.
Thud!
Under the onslaught, a shadow guard was hacked apart, its form dissolving into a pool of shadow that merged back into Riku’s own shadow. For these shadow guards, this was akin to returning to their “divine kingdom.” After a short time, they could reform and fight for Riku again.
Within the endless shadows at Riku’s feet, in the “Shadow Realm of the Divine Kingdom,” the shadow guards could endlessly reconstitute themselves. They knew no death; combat was their destiny.
“What… is this?” Emiya Kiritsugu, gripping his gun, swallowed hard. Just how many tricks did this Devil have up his sleeve?
Before long, the combat maid homunculi were completely slaughtered, while the shadow guards suffered minimal losses. The Einzbern homunculi, as expected, weren’t particularly adept at combat. This had always been the case—they weren’t created to hone fighting skills. Their purpose was to achieve the Third Magic and bring salvation to humanity, not to study warfare. That’s why they’d hired someone like Emiya Kiritsugu in the first place.
“Let’s go. Time to take a look inside,” Riku said, stepping forward through the scattered limbs and entering the Einzbern courtyard. The castle loomed nearby.
“Alright,” Emiya Kiritsugu replied without hesitation, following Riku as the shadow guards cleared the way.
They pushed open the gates and entered the courtyard, where more homunculi rushed out to defend the castle.
Inside the castle, in a room atop the high walls, Illya peered out from a window. The petite, doll-like girl was utterly adorable, with a delicate, cherubic face. She was the child of Emiya Kiritsugu and Irisviel, though she resembled Irisviel far more, showing little trace of Kiritsugu.
It couldn’t be helped—though born of Kiritsugu and Irisviel, Illya had undergone extensive magical modifications as an embryo. She was the pinnacle of Einzbern homunculus technology, both the “Lesser Holy Grail” and a human capable of serving as a Master in the Holy Grail War.
“Illya, don’t look,” said two maid guards, pulling her away from the window.
They weren’t shielding her from the bloodshed; they were loyally executing their orders to prevent Illya from meeting Kiritsugu, even in passing. As long as they could act, they would unwaveringly carry out this command—that was the nature of homunculi.
“But…” Illya pouted, hearing the commotion outside. It sounded lively, and she wondered if Kiritsugu and her mother had returned.
In a way, Illya was right—Kiritsugu and Irisviel had returned. But Irisviel had become the “Grail,” and Kiritsugu was now an intruder.
The courtyard battle ended quickly. The shadow guards lost a few more, but the homunculi’s fearless resolve was no match for their inferior capabilities.
Boom!
The castle’s main gate was blasted open, and Riku strode inside. The ancient fortress exuded a timeless aura, its contents clearly aged—a fitting workshop for a magecraft lineage spanning nearly two thousand years.
“Emiya Kiritsugu, why did you abandon the Grail?” an aged voice echoed as they entered, its tone calm but probing.
“Because you lied to me. That thing isn’t an omnipotent wish-granting machine,” Kiritsugu shot back. The Einzberns had grievances with him, but he had plenty of his own. They’d deceived him from the start, playing him for a fool.
“Acht! Your dreams are nothing but delusions! Using the Third Magic to save all of humanity? Utter nonsense!” Kiritsugu’s face darkened. He didn’t buy into the Einzberns’ methods.
Granting eternal life to all humanity to end all conflict? What a joke! Setting aside the feasibility, such a plan ignored human nature and the world’s carrying capacity. It was nothing but wishful thinking!
If everyone became like that, would humans still be human? Without death, the world would surely collapse!
Even as a magic user—a “Mage Killer” who cared little for magecraft theory—Kiritsugu knew this plan, though noble-sounding, was utterly irrational and would only bring greater disaster.
“You have no right to question the Third Magic!” the voice, belonging to “Acht,” interrupted, its tone rising slightly as if expressing anger, though its underlying detachment was impossible to ignore.
“Don’t try to imitate humans so poorly,” Riku quipped. He knew exactly what was speaking.
The Einzbern castle was built by the disciples of the Third Magic’s magus, who established their workshop here, passing down their pursuit of the Third Magic through generations. To focus on their research, they created a homunculus to handle miscellaneous tasks and manage the castle—this was “Jubstacheit von Einzbern.”
To put it bluntly, “Jubstacheit” was an artificial intelligence created by the Third Magic’s disciples to control the castle’s core, overseeing all homunculi and serving as the successive heads of the Einzbern family. Each “Acht” was essentially a humanoid terminal for Jubstacheit, all sharing the same name, much like the Assassin Order’s “Hassan-i-Sabbah.” But while each Hassan was a different person, every “Acht” was controlled by Jubstacheit—a puppet with a simulated personality, driven by the mission to “manage the castle” and “recreate the Third Magic.”
Homunculus bodies, even with preservation methods, lasted only two or three centuries at most, requiring periodic replacement. The current “Acht” was the eighth, in place since the Holy Grail War’s establishment, and likely nearing the time for its next replacement.
Unmasked, Jubstacheit fell silent, and another wave of homunculi charged forward, their resolve unshaken. They still had Illya, their ultimate weapon crafted for the Holy Grail War. Only if she failed would their conviction waver, having exhausted all options.
The battle continued, but the outcome was predictable. The homunculi left behind a field of corpses. Over the thousand years since their creators’ departure, the Einzberns under Jubstacheit’s control had made no progress. Their alchemy was unparalleled, but that was the legacy of their creators, not the homunculi’s achievement. The Holy Grail War itself was only established with the help and planning of their human collaborator, Makiri Zolgen.
As an “eternal” entity, Jubstacheit had proven one thing: eternity without humanity was meaningless.
Boom!
A room’s door was flung open, and Kiritsugu rushed inside, his face filled with urgency.
“Illya!”
He spotted his daughter, the delicate, doll-like girl, but didn’t approach. Two combat maids blocked his path.
“Kiritsugu?! You’re really back?!” Illya cried out in delight, unaware of the chaos engulfing the castle.
“Leave, Emiya Kiritsugu,” the maids said, charging at him without hesitation. Kiritsugu, equally unyielding, activated his “Time Alter.”
Time seemed to slow before him. He sidestepped the maids and rushed toward the overjoyed Illya. He could’ve killed the homunculi, but he didn’t want to do so in front of her. She was the last softness in his heart, his final anchor amidst his life’s confusion. He couldn’t bear to taint her.
Meanwhile, Riku reached the heart of the Einzbern castle. His shadow guards had spread throughout, locating Jubstacheit’s core—the central hub controlling all homunculi and their creator.
“Pursuing the Third Magic to save the world? That’s just asking for trouble. Did you think the Counter Force was just sitting around eating rice?” Riku remarked, eyeing Jubstacheit’s core. In a parallel world, someone had nearly succeeded, with the Grail beginning to enact the Third Magic on humanity. But “nearly” meant it still failed.
In such a scenario, not just Gaia but likely Alaya too would intervene to stop it. This wasn’t “salvation”—it was another form of destruction, for both Gaia and Alaya.
Chapter 249: The Luminary That Can Light Up a City
Buzz!
Riku swiftly converted the “Yggdmillennia Core” into the central control hub. This “Yggdmillennia Core” wasn’t particularly large in its physical form—think of it like a piece of magecraft equipment, resembling a stone tablet placed on a high platform.
As for the humanoid terminal “Ahad,” Riku had already taken care of it. Those kinds of “humanoid terminals” were a dime a dozen, and it was about time for a change anyway. With a new master in charge, it only made sense to give it a fresh look.
The entire Einzbern Castle could still be controlled by this “Yggdmillennia Core.” It could easily whip up a new “humanoid terminal” for itself whenever needed.
“Let’s call it She from now on. Make the new humanoid terminal look like a young girl.”
Riku made his decision, giving the “Yggdmillennia Core” a new name and setting the design for its future “humanoid terminal.” This thing didn’t really have a concept of gender, and the personality assigned to its “humanoid terminal” was entirely artificial. So, might as well make it something easy on the eyes. Riku wasn’t a fan of the old man vibe it had before.
The “Yggdmillennia Core” didn’t have its own independent personality—it was a pure management-type AI. After Riku converted it, its original purpose vanished. Now, “She” was a fully obedient AI under his command.
“Yes, Master.”
The “She Tablet” flickered a few times, acknowledging its new master’s request.
This “She Tablet” was completely bound to the Einzbern Castle and couldn’t leave it. Its entire existence was tied to this artificial magecraft workshop.
Of course, Riku had no intention of abandoning the Einzbern Castle. In fact, this magecraft workshop was the real prize.
The “SheTablet,” as a magecraft AI, wasn’t all that special. Riku had also snagged a “Lunar Cell Fluid,” which was essentially a computational device too. Turning it into a similar AI would be a piece of cake.
The “Lunar Cell Fluid” just didn’t come with the kind of infrastructure the Einzbern Castle had. At best, it could be used to make something like a maid, not a controller of homunculi like the “She Tablet.”
Under the “She Tablet’s” control, its new body was already in the works. The Einzberns had plenty of materials, and making homunculi was second nature to them. The castle was full of “scrap materials” that could be recycled and reused.
After taking control of the “She Tablet,” Riku left the central control room to find Emiya Kiritsugu. He also ran into Illya.
At the moment, Kiritsugu and Illya were in Illya’s room, with two maids standing by. When Riku walked in, the maids immediately bowed and greeted him as “Master.”
After Riku converted the “She Tablet,” all the homunculi got the memo. This caught him a bit off guard—he hadn’t realized the “She Tablet” had that much control and influence. If he’d known, he might not have bothered taking out those other homunculi. Oh well, their materials could still be melted down and remade.
The remaining homunculi were already busy gathering up materials around the castle, breaking them down to create something new.
The “She Tablet’s” control over the homunculi was impressive, mostly because these homunculi didn’t have much individuality to begin with.
Most of them were like “Ahad”—just vessels with an artificial personality plugged in. They wouldn’t disobey their controller’s orders, even if it meant being “scrapped.” Very few ever awakened their own will, and those that did were usually sent straight to the scrap heap.
To “Ahad,” homunculi that developed their own desires or selfishness were no longer pure. Their pristine hearts had been tainted, their artificial personalities glitched, and they had to be destroyed to avoid corrupting the others or jeoparding their grand plan to recreate the “Third Magic.”
“Devil, what’s this about?”
In Illya’s room, Kiritsugu looked utterly confused and asked Riku.
He was still reeling. Just moments ago, the maids were ready to cut him to pieces, swords drawn and all. Then, out of nowhere, they lowered their weapons, changed their tune, and stopped attacking him.
Now they were calling Riku “Master.” If Kiritsugu hadn’t pieced it together earlier, it was crystal clear now—this was all Riku’s doing.
“I’ve got this place completely under control. They’re all mine now.”
Riku smirked, and Kiritsugu’s eyes widened. He clearly didn’t fully grasp the situation, but he now understood why Riku was here: he’d set his sights on the Einzbern family’s assets.
After all, they were an ancient family with unparalleled expertise in homunculus creation and alchemy, skills no outsider could match. The Einzberns definitely had some serious value.
“Can I take Illya and leave?”
Kiritsugu asked, a hint of worry in his voice. He was concerned Riku might want to keep Illya. He knew the Einzberns had pinned their hopes on her as their ultimate creation.
When he’d been recruited and hired, he’d learned some of the inside scoop—how much the Einzberns were banking on Illya.
“Of course you can. I don’t need her for anything.”
Riku nodded. He had no use for Illya in some grand scheme to seize the Holy Grail. Heck, he’d already nabbed the Greater Grail and taken it home.
“Thanks.”
Kiritsugu let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to make an enemy of Riku—there was no need, and honestly, he couldn’t win. He couldn’t even handle Matou Kariya, let alone Riku, the new “Master.”
Sure, Riku wasn’t human, but there was no denying he’d saved a lot of people. Whatever his reasons, Riku’s actions had prevented a catastrophe in Fuyuki City caused by the Holy Grail—and stopped Kiritsugu from making a massive mistake.
Even though it hadn’t happened, Kiritsugu knew himself well enough. Without Riku’s heads-up, he might’ve actually gone through with destroying the Lesser Grail.
Of course, without his Command Spells, he’d need Saber’s cooperation to pull it off. But without Riku, he probably wouldn’t have burned through all three Command Spells in the first place.
“There’s probably something up with Illya’s body.”
Riku didn’t care what Kiritsugu was thinking. He glanced at Illya, who was staring at him with big, curious eyes.
As the pinnacle of Einzbern craftsmanship, Illya wasn’t under “She’s” control. Though she was a homunculus, she was also human, born with her own will. Her personality wasn’t something “She” had programmed into her.
“Is it serious?”
Kiritsugu tensed up immediately. He cared deeply for Illya. In fact, a big part of his current mindset was shaped by her. This little girl had brought him emotions he’d never felt before.
“Not too bad. She was made for the Holy Grail War and has a lot of modifications, but they haven’t completely messed her up yet.”
Riku nodded. Illya’s condition wasn’t as bad as it would be ten years down the line. No one could’ve predicted Kiritsugu pulling some wild stunt that’d kick off the next Holy Grail War in just a decade.
Illya’s major modifications would happen over the next ten years, pushing her to the point where, even if she didn’t become the Lesser Grail, she’d only have a year or two left to live.
“Why don’t you stick around and get her fixed up before you go?”
Riku suggested. The Einzberns were experts at extending homunculus lifespans—after all, “Ahad” had been kicking around for over two hundred years. Illya’s body was a bit unique, but the Einzberns could still patch her up.
“好, thanks.”
Kiritsugu nodded earnestly, grateful. He wanted to leave with Illya as soon as possible, but her health came first, so staying a bit longer was a no-brainer.
Riku nodded, already mulling over whether to keep the Einzbern Castle here or move the whole thing into his “Shadow Realm.” Carrying it with him would definitely be safer and more convenient.
The problem was, his Shadow Realm didn’t have any magical energy. Could homunculi even be made without mana? Homunculi, at the end of the day, were products of magecraft, and alchemy was a branch of magecraft.
After settling Kiritsugu and Illya, Riku went to find She and posed his question.
“No problem, Master. We can rely on a small mana source.”
She had an answer. The Einzberns didn’t need massive amounts of mana to create homunculi—no need to tap into the world’s Greater Mana Source.
“Alright, good.”
Riku nodded, relieved. As long as the Einzbern Castle could keep running in the Shadow Realm, he was set.
With that confirmed, Riku didn’t waste any time. He started the move. Compared to the Greater Grail, the Einzbern Castle was a breeze—it was just a fraction of the size, nowhere near the square kilometers of the Grail’s scale.
In no time, Riku had tucked the entire Einzbern Castle into the Shadow Realm.
He’d given Kiritsugu and Illya a heads-up so they wouldn’t resist being pulled in. Otherwise, they’d have been left behind. No exploiting glitches here, apparently.
Riku had briefly entertained the idea of sucking enemies into buildings and then yeeting the whole structure into the Shadow Realm, but that loophole didn’t seem to work.
After moving the Einzbern Castle, Riku headed back to Fuyuki City. The Einzberns had another castle there—a secondary base used mainly during the Holy Grail War, though it was maintained year-round by homunculus maids.
Riku didn’t hesitate. He scooped up that castle too, and now his Shadow Realm had two new additions.
Both castles were parked next to the “Skyward Tower,” keeping company with Kibutsuji Muzan and the Greater Grail.
The Shadow Realm was finally starting to feel a bit livelier, though it was mostly homunculi. Kiritsugu was a full-blown human, and Illya was half-human, so it was more like one-and-a-half people.
The father-daughter duo didn’t seem too bothered by the Shadow Realm. Riku had tweaked its settings to mimic the normal world pretty closely. The only issue? No sun. The Shadow Realm was pitch-black, so they had to keep the lights on all the time.
Riku figured he needed to do something about that. For ghosts like him, a sunless place was paradise, but he was already at the “low-light” stage, not far from “facing the sun and tossing the veil aside.” Even if he didn’t make a full-on sun, he’d at least need a light source that could cycle on and off to give a sense of day and night.
“A luminary that could light up a small-to-medium city… that’s gonna be tough to find.”
Riku frowned, stumped. He was currently at Tohsaka Tokiomi’s place. Tokiomi, the “Root of All Error,” was a proper magus, so he was bound to be knowledgeable. Riku figured he’d ask if Tokiomi knew of anything like that.
“No clue. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Lighting up a city that size would take an insane amount of energy, wouldn’t it?”
Tokiomi didn’t know of anything like that, and making one would probably be a nightmare. The scale was just too big—Fuyuki City itself wasn’t even that large.
“Fine, I’ll figure it out myself.”
Riku shook his head, not pressing Tokiomi further. The guy was a hard worker and a solid magus, but he was still within the scope of modern mages. He could handle small stuff, but big projects? Not so much.
“What’s the deal with the Holy Church?”
Riku shifted to another concern. He’d only just learned that the Holy Church had sent a bunch of people to Fuyuki, some even gunning for him. Even Executors from the “Burial Agency” had shown up, but they’d missed him since he’d been out of town.
“They didn’t say much to me, just asked about the situation. I told them the truth—that they were after you.”
Tokiomi explained, still a bit on edge thinking about the Burial Agency Executors showing up at his door. He wasn’t exactly human anymore, after all!
He hadn’t expected the Burial Agency to come knocking. He’d assumed it’d be regular priests or someone from the “Eighth Sacrament Assembly.”
The Holy Grail War involved the Grail, so it was supposed to be overseen by the Eighth Sacrament Assembly, who handled “Holy Relics.” The church in Fuyuki had always been their turf.
Luckily, they hadn’t noticed anything off about Tokiomi. As the manager of Fuyuki’s leylines and the Mage’s Association’s rep in the city, the Holy Church had to give him some respect. They couldn’t just treat him like a suspect.
“You did good. Don’t blow your cover.”
Riku nodded. Tokiomi hadn’t dropped the ball this time. Riku wasn’t scared of the Holy Church’s Executors, but it was best if Tokiomi and Matou Kariya stayed out of their crosshairs. If they got taken out while he was away, that’d be a problem.
Chapter 250: The Power of Hundred Rats Slayer
Simply being “undead” wouldn’t catch the attention of the “Burial Agency.” After all, the agency itself harbors “undead” beings, even “Dead Apostles” among its ranks. So, even if Tohsaka Tokiomi or Matou Kariya revealed their immortality, as long as they weren’t preying on humans like Dead Apostles, the Burial Agency wouldn’t bother them.
The reason they came to investigate Riku was that he was too high-profile. Participating in the Holy Grail War and causing significant destruction, Riku was an unfamiliar face. As an organization dedicated to hunting Dead Apostles, the Burial Agency naturally had to look into him.
Upon arriving in Fuyuki City, they learned that the city’s church had been destroyed, and the Holy Church’s influence was completely wiped out. Naturally, they linked these events to Riku. After all, it was the Kotomine father and son who reported the incident, and now both were dead, making it hard not to connect the dots.
Now, Riku had been noted within the Burial Agency, temporarily dubbed the “Fuyuki Ancestor.” Based on the information they had, they judged that Riku likely possessed strength on par with the “Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors,” marking him as a high-threat target.
“What did the guy who came look like?” Riku asked. If they rated his threat level so high, the Burial Agency wouldn’t send some nobody, right?
“He was a male priest in ornate vestments, looked kind, older, wore glasses, and had a refined air about him,” Tohsaka Tokiomi replied. He had a strong impression of the Burial Agency member—a priest who seemed utterly unlike someone working for such an organization. He looked frail, more like a kindly old grandpa next door.
“Hm? Could it be Merem Solomon?” Riku immediately thought of Merem Solomon, the fifth-ranking member of the Burial Agency and the twentieth of the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors, known as “Crown” Merem Solomon. That priestly appearance was likely his “Stand,” a shapeshifting demon arm that often acted as his proxy.
“Now that I think about it, it makes sense. Sending one of the Twenty-Seven Ancestors to investigate an unknown Dead Apostle with Ancestor-level strength,” Riku mused, growing more convinced it was Merem Solomon. He was one of the more active members, often dispatched for missions.
“It’s 1994, though. This timeline’s a bit early, so it’s hard to say who else it could be besides Merem Solomon,” Riku pondered. The Type-Moon world was a chaotic mess of parallel worlds, world splits, and remakes. The presence of the “Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors” suggested this wasn’t a timeline cut off from Tsukihime, but Tsukihime had two versions with a timeline gap of over a decade. If this was the Remake version Riku knew, then another familiar Burial Agency member, Ciel, would only be a few years old and definitely wouldn’t show up.
“Whatever. I won’t be sticking around long anyway. If they can’t find me, they won’t linger here forever,” Riku decided, brushing it off. The Burial Agency was a respectable organization, more or less on the side of protecting humanity. Even though Merem Solomon was one of the Twenty-Seven Ancestors, he worked diligently for the agency. Riku saw no reason to pick a fight.
“I agree. The Burial Agency is a tough bunch. If we can avoid them, it’s best not to clash,” Tohsaka Tokiomi nodded. The agency’s reputation preceded it—they were hardline, with formidable combat strength, having taken down several of the Twenty-Seven Ancestors. No need to stir trouble without a grudge.
Riku nodded and left the underground magecraft workshop at the Tohsaka residence, heading to the residential area above. He sensed three human presences upstairs: two children and an adult—Tohsaka Aoi, Tohsaka Rin, and Matou Sakura.
With the Holy Grail War over, the family had returned to Fuyuki. Tohsaka Tokiomi had sent Aoi and Rin away to keep them out of the conflict.
“Devil-san, Tokiomi, want to join us for dinner?” Tohsaka Aoi asked as Riku and Tokiomi emerged. She was a gentle-looking woman, the picture of a devoted wife and mother, with dinner already prepared, waiting for the head of the household. Clearly, Tokiomi hadn’t told her he could no longer eat normal food.
“No, thanks. Call the kids to eat,” Tokiomi waved it off. He’d lost the ability to eat normally and needed to figure out how to cover that up.
“Alright,” Aoi replied without pressing further. She was always discreet, fully supportive of her husband’s work and never prying into things she shouldn’t. She perfectly embodied the role of a “magus’s wife” and embraced it willingly.
At Aoi’s call, two girls scampered downstairs. First was a twin-tailed girl with black hair ribbons, her blue eyes brimming with energy. She wore a red dress typical of the Tohsaka family’s love for red-toned clothing—Rin, no doubt. Matou Sakura followed, her expression calmer, lacking Rin’s vibrant energy, even showing a hint of reluctance. Though she’d only been away from home for a year, she’d endured far too much. Returning home, everything seemed unchanged yet entirely different. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened.
“Sakura, come sit!” Rin tugged Sakura toward the dining table, plopping into a chair and patting the one beside her. They used to sit side by side like this for meals.
Sakura pressed her lips together but sat down, her expression complex. She was just a child, unable to hide her emotions. She didn’t feel warmth—only pain. She didn’t belong to this family anymore. She was the one sent away, the one not needed.
“Sakura…” Aoi’s face clouded with sorrow. Her heart ached for what Sakura had suffered, but she didn’t blame Tokiomi. He’d done it for Sakura’s sake, and as a mother and wife, Aoi had understood and supported him. The outcome wasn’t his fault.
Tokiomi sighed, glancing at Riku, who was watching the family drama with an amused expression.
“Lord Riku, should we call Matou Kariya in?” Tokiomi asked, prompting a strange look from Riku. Kariya was waiting outside the Tohsaka residence, having brought Sakura but showing no intention of coming in.
“Your family drama, not my problem. I’m not getting involved,” Riku rolled his eyes. He wasn’t about to meddle in matters of emotions or family ties—those were for the people involved to sort out.
With that, Riku vanished, leaving Tokiomi to wrestle with the awkwardness. It wasn’t that Kariya and Aoi were childhood friends—that didn’t faze Tokiomi, who was confident in his marriage. The issue was that Sakura was now part of the Matou family, and leaving Kariya outside felt wrong.
After some hesitation, Tokiomi said to his wife, “Aoi, go call Kariya in.”
He didn’t go himself, knowing Kariya’s attitude toward him. They’d probably end up arguing at the door. Tokiomi genuinely wanted to reconcile—since they were both working for Riku, they should cooperate. But Kariya clearly wasn’t on the same page.
“Alright,” Aoi agreed without hesitation, heading outside. She returned shortly, a wry smile on her face. “Kariya won’t come in. He said to call him when Sakura’s ready to leave.”
She glanced at her younger daughter, who looked tense, clearly worried about something.
“Let him be,” Tokiomi shook his head, saying no more. Some conflicts couldn’t be resolved with one side giving in.
Riku, uninterested in the family drama, had returned to the great cavern beneath Ryudou Temple on Mount Enzo. The Greater Grail had been moved, but the magical array remained. Activating scan mode, he recorded the array completely. Recreating it wouldn’t be hard—his familiar “Shou-yu” could handle it, having been involved in its original construction. However, the array wasn’t solely the Einzberns’ work; it included contributions from the Matou family, which Shou-yu wouldn’t know.
Makiri Zolgen, the Matou family’s founder, was undeniably brilliant—a close friend of “Paracelsus” von Hohenheim. Hohenheim’s achievements spoke for themselves, and his close friends, like Zolgen and Leonardo da Vinci, were no less remarkable. It wasn’t far-fetched to think Zolgen could have become a Heroic Spirit had he died normally.
As Riku marveled, he sensed an odd presence.
“Sneaky rats spying in the shadows, come out,” he called, his eyes locking onto the source. Actual rats—but no ordinary ones.
Switching to his long-unused [Hundred Rats Slayer] title, the rats squealed and fled in panic.
“Merem Solomon. He’s been here, alright,” Riku muttered, ignoring the fleeing rats. The real deal was coming soon.
Since he was in Fuyuki, Merem Solomon would naturally check out the Holy Grail, the root of the commotion. The Fuyuki Grail was registered with the Holy Church—not a true “holy relic” like others, so while they monitored the Grail War, they hadn’t taken it. They knew exactly where the Greater Grail was, so Merem’s visit here was no surprise.
Sure enough, someone arrived—a figure matching Tokiomi’s description. But his expression wasn’t kindly; it was stern, his body trembling as if under mental pressure as he faced Riku.
“Ha, an actual rat!” Riku chuckled. He hadn’t expected [Hundred Rats Slayer] to affect even this “rat”—a Phantasmal Species, a demonic entity manifested as a rat.
With a hum, the priest’s form shimmered, transforming into a boy of about twelve or thirteen. A black-haired shota with rings on all ten fingers—Merem Solomon’s true form, rarely seen. His shapeshifting came from his demonic left arm, which clearly didn’t want to face Riku.
“Seriously, are you a cat or something? Scaring rats like that?” Merem Solomon quipped.
“Not quite. Just killed a lot of rats,” Riku replied, sizing up the Twenty-Seven Ancestor. This was his first encounter with a Dead Apostle—a completely different kind of being. No wonder Merem hadn’t noticed anything off about Tokiomi.
“You the Dead Apostle causing havoc in Fuyuki? Wait, no—you’re not a Dead Apostle at all. What are you?” Merem asked, studying Riku. Having lived and been a Dead Apostle for over a millennium, he knew Dead Apostles well. Riku wasn’t one, but that didn’t rule out Ancestor-level strength—some non-Dead Apostles ranked among the Twenty-Seven.
“I’m probably the guy you’re talking about, but sorry, I didn’t cause havoc. On the contrary, I saved Fuyuki,” Riku said, raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t taking the blame.
As the one who altered the outcome, he could confidently claim he saved Fuyuki. True, he caused some casualties and destruction, but he saved far more lives—an undeniable fact.
“Oh? That’s not what we heard,” Merem Solomon said with a smile, clearly intrigued by Riku’s claim.
(End of Chapter)
