The scythe rapidly absorbed the surrounding ambient Mana. Though it did not compare to the Age of Gods, the mana of this mutated world had already approached that of the fifth century, when the King of Knights lived, before Mystery and the present world became severed.
Once the blade had absorbed enough mana, Ade's connection was cut off. A mechanical female voice rang out from the Scythe of the Grim Reaper.
"Simulated personality halted. Mana collection rate has exceeded the designated value. Beginning removal of the second-stage restriction."
As though a key had unlocked a lock, the "Mystery" held in the Youth's hand revealed the form concealed within the first layer of its box.
Ade (Kay) was a Mage's Formal Wear that served as the first seal on this Holy Relic. The personality appearing within the box was a seal established to prevent the Holy Relic's Mystery from being needlessly lost in the present world.
The seals were divided into multiple stages. Even at the third stage, it was said that thirteen seals had to be released at once to unleash the Holy Relic's ultimate Divine Power. Even this body was probably one of the Holy Relic's seals.
At that moment, the Holy Relic in the Youth's hand unfolded its second stage.
The Scythe of the Grim Reaper expanded and changed shape, taking the form of a "spear" that should not exist in three dimensions. It was an aggregate overflowing with immensely powerful mana compressed to its limit, a crystallization of Mystery proving that countless myths and legends had truly occurred.
It was called a spear, but it had long surpassed the specifications of one. It was a pillar of light holding up the heavens. It was an erupting volcano.
Holy Lance, anchor away—Rhongomyniad!
The spear transformed into a pillar of light and spun like a meteor made of spiraling fragments of the sun. Shining with its brightest radiance, it vaporized the surrounding mana and charged straight at the Demon Wolf.
Within the flash, the Demon Wolf released its final howl. This time, it was no longer filled with despair and hatred, but sounded more like a long sigh after being granted release.
As he turned into fluorescent light, Wolf King Rob raised his head and gazed into the distance. Under the Holy Light, he remembered the plateau where he had been born, his wife with snow-white fur, and the joy of running freely through the forest with his companions...
"Thank you, Shirou." Jeanne d'Arc watched Wolf King Rob disappear and spoke softly. Perhaps because she had seen a reflection of herself in him, the straightforward girl became slightly sentimental.
"I think that because Jeanne d'Arc could care about him like that, Wolf King Rob would surely change too." Shirou stepped forward and patted the silver-haired girl's head in comfort.
Servants were beings who had ascended to the "Throne" after death, no longer affected by time and dwelling beyond the world.
Their endings in myths and legends had already been fixed. Life and death no longer mattered to them.
But if Servants, like humans, had memories and emotions, if they could experience and feel things, then surely they could grow and change as well.
At least, Shirou did not believe that the silver-haired girl before him was merely, as she claimed, a dream of bubbles, a shadow destined to vanish sooner or later.
"Even if there is no past or future, even if you only existed for an instant, you truly existed. I met you here, Jeanne d'Arc. To me, you are the real Jeanne d'Arc—not a Saintess, but Jeanne d'Arc, my companion who fights at my side. I promise I will never forget you for the rest of my life," Shirou said sincerely.
"Is that so..." Hearing the Youth's words, Jeanne d'Arc showed a smile unlike before, more natural and beautiful. Like a proud plum blossom in winter, she would never bloom easily before others, revealing her true smile only to those willing to wait through the cold season.
But soon, the silver-haired girl smacked away the Youth's hand from her head and snapped, "Don't touch my head, Shirou! Say disgusting things like that again, and I really will burn you to death!"
"Shirou, don't mind that Assault Girl who doesn't know how to repay kindness. Her body is as tough as an iron wall. There is no need to worry about her at all," Artoria said.
"Oh my, Shirou, you are incredibly popular even in this world. As expected of the person I chose. If I were not in this state, I would definitely teach you my ultimate technique of diving for nine days and nine nights. The last person I was willing to teach personally was Bedivere, though he only had one hand. Ahahaha!"
"We really came to the right place! I ate to my heart's content too, hahahaha! But my younger sister will not be handed over to just anyone!" Kay, now back in the box within the cage, burst out laughing before issuing a stern warning.
"Shut up! My affairs are none of your business! As a king, only I command others. No one has any right to interfere with me!" Artoria grabbed the Youth's wrist and vigorously shook the little cage hanging beneath his right hand, subjecting Kay to the torture of a swinging ride.
"Waaah! Stop shaking me! Stop! Artoria...!"
Phantom Demon Alliance
At the top of a cylindrical skyscraper stood a Bearded Uncle who looked exactly like Shinjuku Archer, though his eyes and brows made him seem far more cunning and vicious.
A Black Shadow flashed past. Appearing there was a handsome man with black hair and dark skin, carrying a longbow wreathed in blue flames.
"I did not expect even the heaven-blessed hero to fail, allowing that Wolf King to be defeated so easily. The plan must now be changed." The Bearded Uncle spoke with a cold expression and an equally indifferent voice.
"Shut up, Moriarty! I'm not Arjuna. I'm the side he calls 'black.' I will complete the task I promised you, but I have only one goal: to kill Shirou Emiya." The black-haired man spoke coldly to the alliance.
"Indeed. Compared to that perfect hero, you are more suited to this world. Now that Wolf King Rob has been dealt with, Chaldea's Master will probably target Berserker next. I would like you to go there. Assassin, you should go as well," said the middle-aged man known as Moriarty.
Professor Moriarty was Holmes's archenemy: cold-blooded, ruthless, and without the slightest moral conscience. He had once established Europe's largest criminal empire in London and was known as the Napoleon of Crime. More than half of London's cases were connected to him.
Before meeting Holmes, he had never failed at a crime. He completely destroyed every piece of evidence and escaped flawlessly.
A mathematics professor and philosopher by profession, he wrote The Dynamics of an Asteroid and was a criminal genius whose intelligence rivaled Holmes's.
This body had fused with the German legend of The Freeshooter, which told of an officer who had to win a shooting contest in order to marry the woman he loved. In his anxiety, he was tempted into asking the devil for seven magic bullets. The first six would never miss, while the target struck by the seventh would become the devil's payment.
Under the devil's control, the seventh magic bullet would inevitably fly toward the person the shooter loved most.
At that moment, another handsome man appeared. His long black hair was tied into a braid, his eyes were green and gold, and his body was agile without being bulky. His skin was white as jade, dragon patterns were tattooed on his arms, and elaborate floral tattoos covered his front and back.
"By the way, brother black, if you want to kill that man so badly, I could help too. For someone like him, it feels like it would be easy if I just became a woman by his side."
"Assassin! You are not allowed to act! I must kill that man with my own hands alone, or I will never calm the rage in my heart." The man calling himself Black spoke excitedly, and the black mud on his body wriggled across his face.
"I know, I know. Then I will handle the Master's side. What a deeply sinful man. To be hated by a Great Hero to such an extent—compared to him, villains like us really amount to nothing." The handsome young man smiled. His true name was Yan Qing, the Heavenly Skill Star among the one hundred and eight Demon Stars.
The Prodigal Yan Qing was described in the book as a handsome man skilled in boxing and wrestling, with extensive connections and a talent for gathering information. He was known as the foremost figure in the world of pleasure. Since he was from the Song Dynasty, he also had the habit, popular among men of that era, of wearing flowers in his hair. There were also rumors that he had been Jade Qilin's male concubine and enjoyed dressing as a woman.
The Phantom Doppelganger he had fused with originated in a German legend. The German word "Doppelganger" referred to a ghost that looked exactly like a person. Everyone had another self hidden within their heart. One could not normally see it, and seeing it was an ominous sign.
It later evolved into the more famous legend that there existed another person in the world identical to oneself, and that upon seeing them, one would soon die.
After fusing with it, Yan Qing became a Servant proficient in both boxing and shapeshifting.
As for the black-haired, dark-skinned man, he was the Servant Archer who had willingly responded to the summoning into this world.
His entire body was stained with black mud. As he had said, Arjuna, the legendary hero of ancient India's Age of Gods, could not possibly appear in this world. He was Arjuna's Dark Side, rejected by the heaven-blessed hero and separated from him. He had once appeared under the identity of Black.
But this time, through the effects of the black mud, he had taken control of this body. As one of the seven Servants summoned and transformed by the black mud, unlike Arjuna, who revealed smiles he did not wish others to see at critical moments, he never concealed his evil and cunning nature.
Unlike Perseus, who had been denied the value of being a hero, became enraged and mad, and sought revenge against everything, Black was much calmer. However, all seven Servants chosen by the black mud shared the same goal: to kill Shirou Emiya.
After their discussion, the evil Servants left the tower and vanished into the night.
Meanwhile, the boys and girls had already returned to the hamburger shop's basement.
"Here, Second. You must be hungry. Come on, have some dog food in different flavors." Shirou was pouring lunch for the white dog.
"Woof!" The white dog affectionately licked Shirou's hand, wagged its tail, and began eating.
"Shirou! Don't you have anything to say when you see me like this? You do, right? Look!" Jeanne d'Arc stood before the Youth, spread her arms halfway, and spun around as she proudly showed herself off.
The silver-haired girl had changed into a dark furry coat. A layer of black down covered her shoulders and wrapped around her neck. Beneath it, she wore a black dress, its low neckline revealing the slight curve of her collarbones, like the finest arc carved into white jade by a sculptor—sexy and alluring. A silver pendant hung perfectly there, making the surrounding skin appear snow-white.
"Mm, it suits you very well. Pretty and cool," Shirou said.
"Right... right? Mm... well, it is me, after all. That is only natural." Jeanne d'Arc looked away and awkwardly shifted her gaze back and forth.
"Mm, you are pretty cute like this too," Shirou said with amusement at the silver-haired girl's childish behavior.
"I know! I did not ask you, so stop staring at me!" Jeanne d'Arc cried, reaching out to push Shirou's face away.
"She is so easy to deal with, that stupid girl," Artoria muttered from the side.
"Artoria, your outfit is cool too," Shirou said.
"..." Artoria fell silent for a moment before replying coldly, "Hmph! That is only natural for a king. Be grateful and become my captive."
Although her answer was cold, the corners of the girl's lips curled up slightly.
"Shirou-senpai! What about me? Me?" Gudako stepped forward, unwilling to be left out, and struck what she believed was a seductive pose.
"Ah, cute, cute, devilishly cute..." Shirou casually waved a hand as he answered.
"Is that so? Is that so? I am cute?" Gudako walked over with a beaming smile, raised her foot and lightly kicked Shirou, then asked, "Why is my treatment so different?"
"No, even if you wear Mage's Formal Wear and strike a pose while asking me..." Shirou said helplessly to the girl who was a stranger he knew best in every possible way. He helped her change clothes in the game every day. There were only a few outfits. What was there to say by now?
"Damn it, I want cool clothes too!" Gudako shouted unhappily.
At that moment, the phone rang. Gudako stepped forward and answered it.
The caller was a man who called himself Edmond Dantès.
He told Gudako the truth about the raised platform built in central Shinjuku. The leader of the Phantom Demon Alliance was constructing a spear body, intending to use the device to destroy this world and shatter the Earth.
To stop them, they had to defeat the Servants one by one. Shinjuku Rider had already been defeated, and Shinjuku Berserker was next.
PS: Resource Group 606793406. There will be another chapter tonight!
For the Sinners, Salvation
In Kabukicho, Coloratura Dolls swayed everywhere. There were at least two hundred of them, with another hundred or so regularly patrolling around Shinjuku and capturing living people.
These were monsters created by the Berserker-class Servants, The Phantom of the Opera and Empress Christina. They looked like dolls, but humans were inside them. Within their cold, hard shells, muscles remained connected to blood vessels that still circulated, and internal organs still pulsed.
But their skin and bones had been stripped away, while their personalities and brains had long since collapsed. Only their bodies remained, controlled into motion.
They were things even more twisted than vengeful spirits. Even the soul that governed their minds and memories had been stripped away, leaving only the corporeal soul that governed physical movement. They were empty shells without thoughts, living dead who were half-dead yet unable to die completely.
If anyone asked whether they could still be saved, it was already too late. Yet half of their souls remained trapped within those shells. Perhaps only by destroying those bonds could they be freed.
The maddened Servant could no longer be reasoned with. He considered human appearances ugly and believed only dolls possessed artistic beauty. If he had wanted combat strength, there were countless other methods available. He did not need to go through so much trouble. He had created them solely out of personal interest.
Empress Christina, transformed into a doll, stood upon the platform and sang while The Phantom of the Opera listened in rapture at her side. Whenever her singing stopped, all the Coloratura Dolls began clapping. Then they waited for the Empress to sing again, and clapped again.
It repeated endlessly, twenty-four hours every day without interruption. Singing... offering applause. Singing... offering applause...
On a rooftop above a distant shop, the boys and girls stood watching the situation in Kabukicho.
"This is broken too." Shirou once again felt the distortion of this world. Alongside his anger, he felt sorrow for the people who had lost their lives.
"At this point, why even say that? This was a world meant to break in the first place. But these disgusting singing dolls—I really want to burn every last one of them to ashes." Jeanne d'Arc folded her arms and said with a frown.
"If these buildings were not in the way, I could use my Noble Phantasm and wipe them out in one strike!" Artoria said.
The mana in this space was incredibly dense. Even the steel-and-concrete buildings had been infused with mana, making them as hard as the floor tiles of some temple connected to a spiritual vein and constructed as a large-scale Magic Circle. Even the holy sword would struggle to damage them.
"I have an idea. First, capture a Coloratura Doll," Shinjuku Archer spoke up.
"What are you going to do?" Mash asked.
"I will modify the doll slightly and turn it into a bomb. The dolls return to Kabukicho at fixed times every day. When the bomb goes off, it will surely cause chaos. Then we can take the opportunity to eliminate the Empress and the Phantom, the two Berserkers. But... Master, do you have the resolve to press the detonator and kill these people?" Shinjuku Archer asked as he looked at the red-haired girl solemnly.
"I... can do it." Gudako bit her lip and answered stubbornly. She hated this method and did not want to see anyone harmed, but her past experiences had already made her clearly understand that saving the world could not be done without sacrifices.
Shirou stepped forward and said, "Uncle, even you, as the good side, can come up with a plan like that. The original must really be a hopeless scumbag supervillain. What an awful plan."
"No! Shirou-senpai, I can do it!" Gudako clenched her fists.
"Relax. It has not reached the point where you have to do that. Maybe you will have to face even crueler choices in the future. But right now, while I'm here, I will never let you do something that makes you sad!" Shirou gently patted the girl's head, his voice warm yet firm.
"Oh ho, then do you have a better plan, Youth?" The Bearded Uncle looked over with great interest.
Shirou nodded. "Mm. Leave the Coloratura Dolls to me. I will leave Berserker to all of you."
"Shirou, do not overestimate yourself. Even with the Holy Lance, you cannot defeat that many dolls alone." Artoria stared at the Youth.
"Yeah, why not just blow them up? You are dithering around so much. Honestly, I cannot do anything with you. I will stay and help you!" Jeanne d'Arc said with an irritated expression.
"There is no need to defeat them. It will be enough to send their souls back where they belong," Shirou said calmly.
"Yeah, yeah, with me helping Shirou, that is enough! We are experts at dealing with things like these!" The box in the cage beneath his right hand spoke.
There were countless versions of King Arthur's legend. In different places, the king traveled with different knights, facing adventures and challenges together, before finally dying because of a vassal's rebellion.
For example, in the legend of the Eternal King, the king was taken to Avalon by four Witches, or by the Lady of the Lake. The king had not died, but merely fallen asleep. One day, he would return and save the people.
There were also several legends regarding the king's burial places.
Ancient kings often built several tombs to prevent their enemies from taking revenge after their deaths. Such cases were not uncommon.
As Britain's most legendary king, King Arthur's supposed burial sites were scattered across many locations throughout the country. This body of the Youth's was the gravekeeper of one such cemetery.
Gravekeepers were not Magecraft users, but they were experts in combating "spirits." Though they also possessed a Catalyst Crest, their purpose differed from that of Magecraft families. Their abilities were also far more singular, so their successors were not held to such high standards.
Relying on the crest passed down through generations of gravekeepers within his body, the Youth controlled the Mage's Formal Wear called Ade in battle.
"If they were evil spirits, perhaps a fierce battle would be necessary. But for these pitiful remnants of souls, trapped in their shells and already stripped of consciousness, it is only a matter of time." Shirou calmly watched the dense mass of Coloratura Dolls below.
"Hehehehahaha!! This is such a wonderful place! Vengeful spirits are everywhere! I am going to eat my fill this time!" The box carved with eyes and a mouth opened and closed as Ade (Kay), the simulated personality within, laughed wildly.
The Coloratura Dolls were half-dead lives, ruined flesh containing incomplete spirits. The gravekeeper would bring release to every spirit suffering in torment.
"Let's go, Ade!" Shirou's amber Magic Eyes shone with rainbow-colored light at that moment. Even though he countered them, facing the combined assault of three hundred dolls approaching the level of phantasmal beasts was still beyond him.
Therefore, he had to strengthen his weapon as necessary.
The black mud Servant Appears
Rainbow light revolved within his Magic Eyes, crossing time and space to connect with this Mage's Formal Wear's past. He understood its creation process and analyzed the nature of its core. (Monthly Fee Group 694936135)
The weapon in his hand was normally a cubic box composed of multiple components, housed within a small cage like a birdcage. Its core component was a replica of logos-Re-Act, one of the Seven Great Weapons of Atlas.
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