Starting from Adopting Sakura in the Type-Moon World Chapter 17

A world of endless darkness, a battlefield of ceaseless strife.

Death and slaughter had long become the main melody of this shadowy land.

Killing, killing, killing, killing...

Death, death, death, death...

Time slipped through my fingers unnoticed, and lives withered away beneath my hands.

Even the twin Crimson Magic Spears in my grip seemed to have deepened in hue, drunk on the blood they had spilled.

Turning back suddenly, in a daze, I realized how many lives I had truly taken.

Whether my foes were men, beasts, the undead, or even... gods.

In the eternal, unchanging flow of time, what had I done?

Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight... an endless cycle of battle. Slay every enemy, drench this immortal body in their blood.

No aging.

No death.

By now, I was no longer human, but something between... a god and a man.

How to describe that complex term?

A monster?

Heh, that's a fitting word indeed. I am a monster, a beast wandering through slaughter.

How long has it been since I was born?

How many years have passed since I first took up arms and began to fight?

And why did I fight in the first place?

I can't remember. I can't remember any of it at all.

When I look back, I find the path behind me swallowed in pitch-black darkness, and ahead, nothing but an endless abyss awaits.

Do I regret it?

I don't know.

Do I have regrets?

Perhaps a few.

In this endless erosion, I seem to have lost the meaning of existence itself.

Now, all I crave is death—to die as a human, to meet my end in battle.

That would be enough.

Anyone will do, as long as they can kill me.

But where is the one who can slay me honorably, right now?

I have wandered the shadowy realm for I know not how many years, sought death countless times only to fail. Even the disciples I carefully chose, the warriors I placed my hopes in, brought nothing but repeated disappointment.

Loneliness, confusion...

God, I will make no demands of you, nor beg for your mercy.

Because I know that gods do not help those who plead, do not forgive, and do not extend a hand to those who beg.

That is not prayer—it is merely a petition laid before a god.

If that's the case, then let me die!

Then let me fight! Fight on and on!!

Fighting itself is my prayer—only by battling until the very last moment.

At the end of that road, my wish can finally be fulfilled.

In the long passage of years, a wretched Nightmare once came to my realm in a peculiar way and told me something that weighed heavily on my mind.

"Someone can put an end to your suffering."

To end this endless life and pain—yes, that was exactly what I sought.

Following that creature's guidance, I looked further into the distance.

At the edge of solitude, I glimpsed an end... and a figure at its center.

Was he the so-called opportunity? Could he truly grant me a satisfying death? Would he be the one to end my life...

For that chance, I waited in quiet anticipation, filled with hope.

As the years passed, until one day, by a stroke of chance, a call echoed in my mind.

That was—

The Holy Grail War?

Such an intriguing and fierce event existed, and that peculiar soul within it held a power I could not comprehend.

Interesting, truly interesting...

With a hint of anticipation and excitement, I borrowed Cú Chulainn's connection to answer his call.

'Your fate rests upon my spear. In this war, I will do everything in my power to help you obtain all that you desire.'

'As the price, I hope that once everything is in order, you will engage me in a true battle—to bring this long life of mine to a perfect and final close.'

—This is my, the Queen of the Land of Shadows, Scáthach's, ultimate wish.

Before him stood the beautiful, enchanting figure emerging from the summoning circle.

"You..."

Rovey's expression froze. He couldn't understand why he had summoned her of all people.

"The Queen of the Shadow Realm, the Land of Shadows... Scathach?"

By all logic, she shouldn't be dead yet—just like Merlin, imprisoned in his tower by Vivian, she should exist only somewhere on the far side of this world.

The Holy Grail War couldn't summon the living, so what exactly was she...?

"From your expression, I can tell you're surprised to see me—and that you clearly know who I am."

"Then, Servant, Caster. My name is Scáthach, warrior and queen of the Land of Shadows. I have come in place of my unworthy disciple to answer the call. A pleasure to meet you, my... Master."

The queen named Scáthach looked at him and spoke with a smile.

"Hey, Crowley-senpai, this... this is the Servant you summoned?"

Unlike Rovey, whose expression was complicated as he stood aside pondering the reasons, Aozaki Touko, who had witnessed everything that just happened, could barely contain her excitement.

She quietly stubbed out the cigarette that had burned down to its end, then gently shook Rovey's shoulder, speaking in disbelief.

"Heroic Spirit Summoning... the Holy Grail War. Even though I had some expectations beforehand, to think it could reach this level? Even she can be summoned..."

Facing Scáthach, who had appeared in response to the call, Aozaki Touko rubbed her hands together excitedly.

Although Rovey had explained to her before they started just how extraordinary this Holy Grail War would be—that it could truly summon past Heroic Spirits to the modern era to fight alongside them—hearing it was one thing. Some things could only truly be understood when witnessed firsthand.

If Rovey had summoned some ordinary Servant, that would have been fine. But the one answering his call was the Queen of the Land of Shadows, the warrior who had slain gods, the teacher of the Hound of Ulster—the legendary Scáthach herself.

And that wasn't all. For Aozaki Touko, she held an even deeper significance.

After all, her two greatest achievements to date—aside from perfecting and innovating puppet magic—were reviving part of the Norse Rune Magic foundation in the modern era using Northern European runestones. These accomplishments were practically miracles by modern magical standards. Yet now, she was standing before the Queen of the Land of Shadows herself.

Beyond being a warrior, Scáthach was also a legend in the world of magecraft, said to possess the wisdom of the Shadow Realm and to command all the Primordial Runes.

That level was something the incomplete version in Aozaki Touko's hands could never compare to. So, facing Scáthach, the master of the Primordial Runes, Aozaki Touko looked like an admirer meeting her idol—her eyes unable to hide her excitement.

She had even started fantasizing about learning all the Runes from this queen, then finding a chance to turn around and teach someone a lesson.

"We've won! Rovey-senpai, we've definitely won this time! This Holy Grail War is ours!"

Aozaki Touko clenched her fists and cheered excitedly.

Even though she didn't know what Servants the other Magi had summoned, she was absolutely certain that with the Queen of the Land of Shadows's help, Rovey had already secured victory in this Holy Grail War.

"..."

Looking at Aozaki Touko, who was acting just like Tokiomi Tohsaka beside him, Rovey covered his forehead and let out a helpless sigh.

We?

Since when are you part of 'we'...

This is my Holy Grail War, isn't it?

But there was no time to dwell on the fact that Aozaki Touko was about to meddle. Rovey shifted his gaze back to the smiling queen before him and spoke solemnly.

"Even though I still don't understand what's going on—why you're here—from now on, my fate is in your hands, Queen Scáthach."

"Naturally, my Master."

"From this moment on, until your true goal is achieved, feel free to entrust your fate to my spear."

She replied, still wearing that smile.

Chapter 23: Invitation and Encounter

—I wish to go to that dream world. For me, the dream is reality.

One day.

In a newly established Magic Workshop, a young Magus leaned back in his chair and gently closed his eyes.

Flowers...

This place was a paradise on earth that could only exist in fairy tales.

The air was sweet, the sunlight warm, and pink petals drifted everywhere, surrounding the lost intruder.

The dream he had arrived in was tangled and complex—half illusion, half truth.

Like a flower reflected in a mirror or the moon's image on water—hazy, yet the touch it gave was incomparably real, enough to make one's thoughts nearly grind to a halt.

Amid this dreamlike haze, Rovey's mind grew slightly dazed. Then he took a step and began climbing the smooth marble stairs, ascending the massive tower before him, step by step.

"Come closer, come now, come..."

A voice flickered in and out of the dream, drifting through layers of petals. Rovey felt himself drawing nearer and nearer to its source.

He pressed on, onward...

Until only a single step remained.

"Brave youth, you'll soon touch the legendary miracle."

"I, the great sage of beauty and wisdom, await you at the end."

Who?

Who's speaking to me?

That voice, those petals—they felt familiar somehow, but he couldn't recall, couldn't remember.

In the depths of the dream, his head felt heavy and muddled, unable to focus his thoughts. He could only follow instinct and guidance, moving forward.

As the voice grew closer and closer, so did his distance to the tower's peak shrink.

Finally, just as he was about to brush aside the curtain and cross through the illusion, what he saw was a blurry, white silhouette—

Crack!!

And at that moment, in reality, the two gems on his body shattered with a crisp sound.

In a daze, Rovey, still trapped in the dream, opened his eyes. Relying on the adjustments and precautions he had made in advance, he roused his spirit back to wakefulness, and his thoughts instantly became clear.

"Get lost."