When Reality and Fantasy Intertwine (Please Add to Favorites!) / A Visit to the Tohsaka Household (Please Add to Favorites!)

Starting in Type-Moon, by Adopting Sakura

Author: Drunken Immortal

Synopsis:

Type-Moon bestseller

In twentieth-century London, Britain, an unlucky bastard transmigrated into the body of a young nobleman who had just died.

Realizing he had a car, a house, and dead parents—a perfect start—Rovey grinned so hard he laughed out loud.

With the generous family fortune he had started with, he could live quite comfortably in this world even if he did nothing.

An old British aristocrat, the Union Jack!! With a start like this, how could I lose?

"I'm so damn high!!"

Just as he raised a finger to rub his temple, a gemstone on the table transmitted a rather familiar, sharp-tongued male voice.

"Rovey, you bastard, how long are you planning to skip class? Do you really need me, Kenneth, to drag you back myself before you'll return?!"

"Huh? You said... Kenne... what?"

"Damn... I'm screwed now."

Current plan: Fourth Holy Grail War.

The synopsis is weak. Please proceed to the main text.

A Blood-Red Opening

When Reality and Fantasy Intertwined

When fantasy and reality intertwined, our story began—

Long ago, both magic and science were fields of study.

But as the times advanced, Mystery scattered across this planet gradually began to hide itself, becoming difficult to see. Magic too began fading from the public eye, gradually forgotten by the age.

Today, mentioning magic again would only make people regard it as a word that existed solely in fantasy. Yet in this age where Mystery had vanished, there were still those who possessed its legacy. Hidden on the other side of the world, they called themselves—

"Magus."

Now, as fantasy and reality intertwined once more, our story had already begun.

Time: A winter at the end of the twentieth century.

Location: Fuyuki City, Hyogo Prefecture, Japan.

The New Year had come much earlier than usual this year, and the weather was colder too.

Dusk was gradually settling in. Thick clouds covered the sky overhead, and the winter chill combined with the dim light to create a stifling atmosphere. After a while, several crystalline snowflakes drifted down from the heavy clouds. Then a north wind swept through, gently carrying those fallen ice crystals as it guided them northward.

The gleaming snow fell in scattered flakes, a layer of pure white gauze descending into the concrete jungle. It gradually draped the gray-black city in white, before slowly drifting through the channels and pipelines designed by people and into the depths beneath the city.

Because of the timing, the New Year in this country had only just passed. Students in the Far East had not yet returned to school, while office workers had not finished their holidays either. Many people were still away from home, enjoying this hard-won New Year break. Thus, the once prosperous and bustling streets seemed somewhat desolate. Aside from a few shops that had opened early, most remained closed, making the area appear even lonelier from afar.

Walking alone through this hazy silver-gray world, a traveler far from home would not feel the splendor of the snow-covered scenery around him. Instead, he would feel a trace of desolation and loneliness from the bottom of his heart.

Just like now...

"I hate snow."

A deep voice suddenly broke the silence of the empty street.

A gust of wind blew fiercely, sending the gauze-like snow drifting through the air. Scattered flakes fell upon the snow piled along the road, unknowingly adding several fresh streaks of white to the world.

A black-haired young man stepped through the snow beneath his feet, holding up a red umbrella. Wearing boots, he walked down the white street blanketed in snow, gazing at the scene before him as a faint sigh rose in his heart.

"I hate snow. I hate winter and the New Year even more..."

Such sentiments were somewhat out of place during a festival that brought joy to most Easterners.

But sometimes, the things most people liked did not mean everyone would like them. At least, that was true for a wanderer drifting far from home.

"Because... it makes me miss my hometown even more."

Rovey brushed the snow from his clothes and pulled his trench coat tighter around himself. He could not help raising his head, blankly staring at the gray sky above, where specks of snow still fluttered down.

Another year of festivals. Around this time, the plum blossoms in his hometown should have bloomed too.

—Rovey. His full name was Rovey Crowley. He was twenty-two years old, a Magus wandering everywhere, a person of some renown within the world of Mystery, someone people called a genius, and also a transmigrator who had taken over another's body several years ago.

The previous owner of this body had been an outstanding young Magus in the Mage's Association, active within the Clock Tower for many years. Thanks to his exceptional talent and the preferential treatment afforded by his noble bloodline, he had managed to secure his own place even in that gathering of geniuses. Aside from a minor accident involving his family, his life had already been a highly successful template.

However, the original owner had encountered an accident two or three years ago. To put it simply, he had secretly conducted some forbidden ritual that violated the Clock Tower's rules. He had messed it up, sacrificed his own soul, and lost all life, becoming a corpse sprawled on the carpet for two whole days and nights. Rovey had happened to transmigrate into this unlucky fellow's body during that period.

When he first opened his eyes and saw that the sight above him was not the underworld he had expected, but instead a magnificent noble estate, Rovey had found it unbelievable.

He clearly remembered that the final scene in his memories had been a huge truck roaring toward him. The violent impact that had struck every part of his body in that instant was something he would never forget for the rest of his life.

It was a sensation that anyone who had never been hit by a truck could never understand. In short, though he had remained conscious only briefly at the time, he could clearly feel his life slipping away.

Yet when he opened his eyes again, what he saw was neither the dark underworld of myth nor the white ceiling of a hospital. Instead, it was an ancient crimson ceiling inlaid with all sorts of strange patterns. The air was filled with smells like mercury, lapis lazuli, blood, and countless other scents he could not describe with words.

That day, an unlucky soul from another world, just like many of his predecessors, was delivered here on a bright, pleasant morning by an interdimensional human trafficking organization that used a semi-truck as its weapon.

As the victim kidnapped by that criminal gang, Rovey—a fine young man of the twenty-first century—was utterly speechless.

He had been using a crosswalk at the time and had strictly obeyed traffic rules. Not to mention it had been near the city center. How could an out-of-control semi-truck possibly spawn in a place like that? He had vaguely heard the piercing roar beside his ears, but it was obviously already too late. By the time he had endured the agony of death and regained awareness, he had been forcibly trafficked into another world.

Thus, when Rovey awoke in a room filled with all sorts of experimental materials and blood, his mind had been completely blank.

Many bizarre bottles and jars around him had long since shattered, while the strange smell assaulting his nose left him confused and helpless.

But he was not given much time to wonder. Immediately afterward, a sense of discomfort—or rather, memories belonging to the original owner of this body—began pouring into his mind in waves. This gave him a rough understanding of the world and situation he was in.

It was very strange. The original owner of this body was also named Rovey, but his Rovey was not an Eastern-style surname-and-given-name arrangement. It was merely a single given name, while his surname was Crowley.

—Rovey Crowley.

His family was a Magus family that had been passed down for five generations. No, it should already have counted as six generations. The Magic Crest of this generation had been handed over to him, and he had been forced into the position.

The entire family estate stood near the outskirts of London, with a fairly substantial Ley Line as its foundation. Though it could not compare to the great Magus houses passed down for more than nine generations, having their own territory in London—the holy land of magecraft where the Clock Tower stood—already put them ahead of the vast majority of Mage Families in the world.

Yet that stability, which should have belonged to them, had been completely shattered. Many years ago, his parents had somehow heard rumors of a Phantasmal Species nearly from the Age of Gods appearing somewhere. As Magi who pursued Mystery, they naturally headed without hesitation to the border between Poland and Belarus in search of that mysterious Phantasmal Species rumored to be a treasure from the Age of Gods. Unfortunately, after setting out, they never returned.

Fortunately, when they left, they had considered the possibility that pursuing a Phantasmal Species might get them killed. But for Magi—those magical creatures devoted to pursuing Mystery and truth, otherwise known as people who would die if they did not court death—losing their lives on the path toward Mystery and truth was entirely worthwhile.

However, reaching the Swirl of the Root was also the long-cherished wish of their family inheritance. Thus, before departing, they handed the Magic Crest to their blood heir, Rovey Crowley, hoping he would continue the bloodline and family legacy, walking the path of pursuing truth until he reached The Root.

Rovey had already thought these parents were outrageous when he saw this. Because of mere rumors about a Phantasmal Species, they had forcibly handed their family and Crest to a teenager and placed the immense responsibility of continuing the family inheritance upon him. But he had not expected there to be someone even worse...

After the Magus couple of the Crowley Family vanished into the primeval forest and specialized personnel from the Clock Tower brought back news of their deaths, the original owner of this body had not grieved for his parents. Instead, he had been ecstatic over inheriting the position of patriarch he had long coveted, putting on a perfectly filial display.

To the original owner, news of their deaths was not terrible news at all. It was the best news he had ever received. Since the previous Crowley Patriarch had died, he could naturally become the new ruler of the entire Crowley Mage Family. That meant he could mobilize most of the family's resources to serve himself and gain early access to the forbidden knowledge sealed within the family library.

So after his parents disappeared, the brat not only failed to mourn, but became increasingly unrestrained.

Under the pretense of mourning, he hid at home and conducted all the experiments he had previously been unable to perform. In the end, he became so arrogantly overconfident that he touched upon truly forbidden experiments. Within only two months, he went mad from delving too deeply into forbidden knowledge and ultimately sacrificed his own soul, giving Rovey his chance.

After reading those memories, Rovey gritted his teeth and could only use two words to describe this family.

"...Absolutely insane."

Then he looked at his somewhat haggard reflection in the mirror and could not help pointing at it as he cursed, "You're absolutely insane too."

He had wanted to say all of this to that insane family in person, but the dead were gone. No matter what he said now, they could not hear him. On the contrary, it was precisely because that guy had been so suicidal that Rovey had been given the chance to revive in his body. After all, if this body had belonged to a living person whom he forcibly displaced, Rovey would have felt guilty. But since the other party had gotten himself killed, that was another matter entirely. Even his psychological burden had naturally vanished without a trace.

In any case, after initially accepting this identity and reality, Rovey had not remained idle, nor had he simply begun enjoying his new life.

Though being hit by a truck had not killed him outright, nor had it left him bedridden as a permanently disabled vegetable, and though he had instead gained a new life in another world, that did not mean he could secretly breathe a sigh of relief and relax.

The world of Magi was far crueler than ordinary society. There was no sympathy or mercy.

Not to mention, he was now a sixth-generation Magus who had just lost the support of his parents, a genius Magus trained under the director of the Clock Tower's Spiritual Evocation Department.

Without top-tier Magi backing him, how capable could a teenage fraud really be, even if he was called a sixth-generation genius Magus? Mage Families devoured and annexed one another like big fish eating little fish. If not for his close relationship with a certain Lord, the Crowley Family would likely have been carved up by other covetous forces long ago.

Therefore, to conceal the fact that he was a fake, he not only had to pretend to be a genius and desperately curry favor with his nominal teacher, but also frantically absorb the original owner's memories in secret. He crammed magecraft knowledge and the Crowley Family's inherited magecraft, strengthening himself as much as possible and gaining the power to protect himself.

Time flew, and several years quickly passed.

Many things happened around Rovey during that time, and he made quite a few choices. In order to preserve his foundation, he agreed to many of his teacher's conditions. He also claimed publicly that, due to his parents' deaths, he could not focus on studying magecraft and was taking a period of leave. He hid in his workshop, keeping a low profile while cramming magecraft knowledge for a long time, barely managing to preserve his identity without being exposed.

And now...

Sometimes, one truly had to admit that habit was a terrifying thing. After such a long period of forced cramming, even he could feel that quite a few changes had occurred within him.

At least in magecraft, he genuinely had to praise the original owner. Though that guy had been suicidal, he really was talented. No wonder that somewhat caustic teacher had taken a liking to him.

At first, he had studied magecraft only to preserve his reputation as a genius, avoid revealing flaws, demonstrate his value, and gain his teacher's protection. But now...

Even Rovey had to admit that magecraft truly, truly was incredibly wondrous and beautiful...

Every improvement he gained, every increase in strength brought by overcoming a difficult problem, was visible to the naked eye. During this time, the sense of fulfillment he gained was something he had never experienced in his previous life. It genuinely made him feel satisfied and accomplished.

Without realizing it, he seemed to have begun moving closer to becoming a Magus himself.

However, unlike those true Magi who had discarded their emotions and completely stopped being human, his emotions were still quite rich.

He could be happy and satisfied. He could also feel... sad because he was alone in another world.

Well, sadness was exaggerating it. At most, it was a little melancholy stirred by the scene before him.

Ever since coming to this world, he had spent every day in a state of complete mental tension. He had to constantly play a role, use drugs to keep himself alert, and force himself to learn those obscure and difficult magecraft theories. Every day, he wished he could split himself apart and use every piece. Other than studying, there was only studying. It was even more exhausting than the hundred-day sprint before his college entrance exams. There had not been a moment of ease or warmth.

Now that he had finally escaped the inhuman hellhole that was the Clock Tower and set foot in the East once more, seeing a festival so familiar from his memories naturally stirred some feelings within Rovey, even if the region was different.

Still, that was enough melancholy. He had spent a great deal of money making thorough preparations for this trip and had even deceived his teacher. This was not the time to stand around feeling sentimental.

Forget it. Before everything began, he should make as many preparations as possible. This opportunity was too rare to miss. Whether he could succeed depended on what came next.

With that thought, Rovey pulled up his hood and turned to look toward a direction far from here. That was where the Tohsaka Family, managers of this city's Ley Line, resided.

First things first. Since he had come to someone else's territory, it was only proper to greet the owner of the place. He would first meet the infamous disaster of this age, then consider how to fool him completely and trick the Purple-Haired Girl into his hands. To prepare for this day, he had begun making arrangements over a year ago...

So, was he ready?

Are you ready?

"Yes. I was ready long ago. Hurry up and begin... I can't wait to personally join this thrilling Holy Grail War..."

Whether it was a murmur within his heart or an ordinary question and answer to himself, the man who had once again set foot in a foreign land finally smiled faintly. Holding the red umbrella in his hand, he gradually walked away through the vast white snow. His figure silently vanished, like a streak of ink spreading through water, until it disappeared at the end of the street.

—A brand-new story had already begun.

Visiting the Tohsaka Family

—Snow was always cold, just like the human heart. It always felt chilly.

The heavy snow was still falling...

Not long afterward, a yellow sedan with sleek lines tore through the curtain of snow as it sped over from afar, then stopped not far from the suburbs.

Around six o'clock in the evening, before the main gate of the Tohsaka Family estate.

"I never expected you to know such an important figure from the Tohsaka Family, young man..."

The veteran taxi driver stopped by the roadside and looked toward the grand gates of the luxurious estate ahead. He sighed softly, then, driven by curiosity, could not help asking, "A distant relative?"

"No. I've merely met the Tohsaka Patriarch a few times."

Rovey shook his head as he searched for his wallet and answered the driver's question.

"That's still impressive. After all, being able to associate with someone that important..."

"In that case... young man, do you need me to drive you through the side gate and into the estate?"