The Fourth Holy Grail War.
It ended with the annihilation of all seven Heroic Spirits, the destruction of the Holy Grail, and the disappearance of the ninth Heroic Spirit, the "Returner."
Ten years later.
Night.
Moonlight shone brightly over a city wrapped in colorful lights.
The bustling cityscape and lively crowds were clear signs of the city's vitality. Not the slightest trace remained of the hellish scene from ten years ago.
Yet in a street away from the crowds, there was not a soul in sight. The place was eerily quiet.
Even stray dogs dared not wander there. It was said the street was filled with the ghosts of those who had burned to death in the fire ten years ago, unable to move on. Every day and every night, every moment, they endured the endless flames. The sensation of their very souls melting made even "ghosts" wish they were dead.
So whatever you did, don't go near it. The moment you dared to step inside, those unsaved ghosts would surely appear in the empty air, wailing in agony and contorting their faces in despair. They'd claw at you as if trying to drag you into their endless inferno.
Naturally, people who heard the warnings kept their distance. But every now and then, someone who refused to believe the stories would go and investigate.
Then, after entering on the first night, their bodies—looking as if they'd been roasted alive—would be found at the street's entrance the following morning.
This only made people even more frightened of the place. Even brazen magi couldn't help frowning whenever it was brought up.
The place was deeply uncanny, and terrifying.
The dark street entrance looked just like the open maw of a hellish demon, swallowing everyone who went inside.
But while everyone else avoided the street entrance,
a young black-haired boy was strolling leisurely out of the shadows, from the street people called "the Ghost's Mouth."
His neat, short black hair, slender willow-like brows, eyes like those of a delicate SD doll, lips neither too thin nor too full, and an adorable baby face—what a little charmer, cute enough to steal anyone's heart!
And yet, this little boy was not only pretty, but adorable, too. That would have been fine on its own, but the death curse clinging to him made him seem like a walking harbinger of doom. Anyone who came into contact with him was sure to die.
Many people had taken a fancy to his harmless-looking face and tried to adopt him.
But without exception, anyone who had come into contact with the boy, touched him, or even talked to him for too long had met an untimely and gruesome death.
Over time, everyone realized that this seemingly adorable child was actually a walking harbinger of doom. They began keeping their distance and called him "the Devil's Son" behind his back.
But the boy paid it all no mind. Every night, he still walked out of the street and casually picked out food from a fast-food restaurant or supermarket before leaving without paying.
Even when he did pay, the people there would immediately grab the money with tongs, toss it outside, and burn it at once, afraid of being contaminated by something terrible.
Click.
The wooden door opened onto a pitch-black room, where only a nearly spent candle cast a tiny circle of light.
The black-haired boy tossed the food and bottled water in his hands to one side. Then he curled up on a battered sofa, switched on the TV, and began his only entertainment of the day.
(No need to worry about the electricity and water bills. No one dared to cut them off, and no one dared to collect.)
His eyes, glinting with a cold light, stared unblinkingly at the old television in front of him.
He casually opened a bag of snacks, grabbed a handful, and tossed them into his mouth without checking whether they were ready to eat or needed heating.
The boy's name was Xia Er. Ten years ago, after the great fire, an elderly couple had found him among the ruins. Back then, he was only three years old, still unable to speak or walk.
Yet he had survived the fire that claimed nearly ten thousand lives without a scratch. The elderly couple had never stopped marveling at it. They named him "Xia Er," meaning a child protected by the heavenly flames.
Xia Er grew up healthy under the couple's care. Even as a child, he showed extraordinary talent.
At three, he already knew how to help his family with chores.
At four, he had taught himself the entire curriculum.
At six, he could glance at any electronic device and tell whether its components were good and what needed repairing.
At eight, he was kidnapped by people who wanted to take him away as a subject for secret experiments. The elderly couple were killed fighting the villains who tried to abduct Xia Er. At the same time, Xia Er's "special ability awakened"—the curse of the Evil Holy Grail.
After the elderly couple passed away, Xia Er began his solitary struggle to survive.
As he grew older, surrounded by the malice and insults of those around him, Xia Er's personality gradually became more extreme.
Curled up on the sofa, fourteen-year-old Xia Er idly fiddled with his fingers.
A wisp of Pure Evil Power flowed over his pale, slender fingers—enough to make even a magus turn deathly white with terror.
Pure Evil Power was exactly what its name suggested: a malicious force that inflicted whatever torment would make you wish you were dead. It could instantly shatter any magus's mental and spiritual defenses, then devour their soul.
To ordinary people, Xia Er was a walking harbinger of doom. To magi, he was a devil straight out of hell, someone everyone wished they could kill. Xia Er's existence was far too dangerous for magi, but for that very reason, no magus or assassin was willing to approach him.
After all, no one knew how much damage and chaos this guy might cause if his fury erupted at the moment of his death. Besides, Xia Er stayed at home nearly twenty-four hours a day and never went anywhere, so the local magi simply turned a blind eye and pretended he didn't exist.
And so Xia Er lived alone in these conditions for four whole years. (From the awakening of his ability until now.)
Loneliness. Isolation. Weariness. Hardship. These negative influences constantly ate away at Xia Er's mind. Years without anyone to talk to, and with no one to confide in, had gradually left him irritable and disgusted with the world.
The small figure curled up on the sofa looked so lonely and helpless beneath the dim candlelight.
"This power... Is it a good thing or a bad thing for me?" His confused eyes watched the wisp of black light in his hand.
By now, Xia Er had learned to control his power well. He could keep it from hurting others indiscriminately.
"Because of you, I can't live a normal life. But you're also the reason I'm still alive. What a contradiction..."
The black arc seemed to understand Xia Er's words. Whenever Xia Er praised it, it suddenly grew larger; whenever he criticized it, it abruptly shrank. It was truly incomprehensible.
He shook his hand, flicking away the black arc, then went back to his mindless TV-watching routine!
The television played advertisements without pause, and the shows from the nineties were crude and dull. Xia Er only ever managed to perk up when it showed something like the conquests of knights or kings.
"Knights... kings..." Xia Er murmured absently. Watching the handsome knights on TV, he couldn't help feeling a little envious.
Noble, loyal, brave, kind, and dependable.
I want one... I want one so badly...
His arms tightened unconsciously as Xia Er pulled his small frame even closer.
He watched the knights' friendship, their battles, and their smiling faces...
Xia Er bit down hard on his lip, his whole body trembling faintly.
The candlelight flickered, almost going out, but it continued to shine on the lonely figure curled up in the dark room.
"Lonely..."
Curled up, he wrapped his arms around himself and buried his head deep against them.
"...Someone, please save me..." His choked voice was the cry from the depths of a child who had endured four years of torment.
But.
Would calling out bring salvation?!
Would begging earn redemption?!
Would crying change anything?!
Would you be rewarded for wanting something without giving anything in return?!
You want something?!
Then give something in return!
A light breeze slipped in through the broken window and blew out the last of the candlelight.
The only light was gone. The support he had once clung to vanished in that moment.
And the child, who had been trembling faintly in the candlelight,
was swallowed by the darkness the instant the flame went out...
The dazzling sun hung high in the sky. The fine weather, with its blue skies and white clouds, made everyone feel refreshed.
Clang...
Clang...
The clear school bell rang, and groups of students laughed as they streamed into their classrooms.
Yet even after the bell rang, one red-haired boy was still on the school grounds, setting his broom aside.
"Hm?" Just as the red-haired boy put down the broom and turned to leave, he noticed a black-haired boy standing outside the school gate.
"Excuse me, is this Homurahara Academy?"
The black-haired boy smiled at the red-haired one as he asked. His smile was as warm as sunlight.
"Ah... Yes! This is the place." The red-haired boy stared at that warm smile for a moment, then came back to himself and nodded quickly.
"I see... Thanks. My name is Xia. I'm a transfer student from Osaka. What about you?" The black-haired boy who introduced himself as Xia held out his hand with a smile.
The red-haired boy looked at the pale hand held out to him and hurriedly wiped his mud-covered right hand on his clothes.
Only then did he nervously shake the offered hand and say,
"N-no problem. My name is Emiya Shirou. It's nice to meet you."
Before you continue