Countless forgotten secret arts resurfaced in his memory. Matou Zouken discovered that he was incredibly powerful; even a Servant stepped out of legend was not beyond his ability to fight.
"Matou Zouken, how much have you remembered?" Li Zihan's gaze turned hostile, and the spear in his hand grew increasingly solid.
"Of course I remembered." Matou Zouken laughed. "After my soul was repaired, wasn't it only natural for my memories to return?"
Although retrieving the memories within his soul was troublesome, handing the knowledge of the Command Spell system over to Li Zihan was part of their contract. He could not violate it.
Knowledge as precious as the Command Spell system had to be hidden in the deepest reaches of his soul. Matou Zouken voluntarily sank his consciousness into the depths of his soul, searching for information related to Command Spells.
Something that puzzled Matou Zouken happened. At the deepest part of his soul was neither knowledge of secret arts nor his family's inheritance, but a white-haired woman.
Who was she? Matou Zouken tried desperately to remember. Clearly, the urgent matter was recalling the knowledge of Command Spells, yet he instinctively pursued that "her."
Did I forget something? Matou Zouken felt as though a thousand needles had pierced his skull and were stirring inside it. Clutching his head, he howled with all his strength, utterly devoid of dignity.
Amid the agony, Matou Zouken recalled his first encounter with that woman.
It was the year 1800 AD.
A mage who had devoted his life to eliminating All the World's Evil—the evil of humanity—and cutting it out entirely, traveled to Winter City, where homunculi were endlessly created.
His dream had already been shattered, but unwilling to give up and accept that fact, he still paid a visit to his final hope, Einzbern. There, he met that woman. Hope arose from the wish that had never been fulfilled, and he envied her for the possibility that she might achieve the Third Magic, so he took the initiative to approach her.
Like every hero's tale, the two quickly became the closest of friends and worked toward that nearly impossible dream. Heaven did not disappoint those who worked hard, and in the end, they discovered a glimmer of hope that could eradicate all evil from the world.
The Northern European named Makiri Zolgen and the Winter Saintess, Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern, were both exceptionally talented Grand Mages. Together, they created the ritual of the Heavenly Holy Grail, a direct path to the Third Magic that even the disciple of the Third Magician had failed to complete.
To prevent anyone from forcibly seizing that ray of hope, they left Europe, where magecraft flourished, crossed the Asian continent rich in Mystery, and headed for the backwater of the magecraft world—the Far East—where they put down roots.
His closest friend sacrificed herself for the world, thus creating the foundation of the Holy Grail War—the Holy Grail. Though overwhelmed by grief, Makiri Zolgen continued pressing forward for their shared wish.
But a problem still arose. That man was only human, and human lifespans had limits. He was nearing death from old age.
The path to eliminating all sin from the world lay right before him. How could he collapse at the very end?! The mage, discovering that his hair had turned white, was terrified. He could not die—not before the ritual was complete.
All I need is to win one Holy Grail War. I only hope I can live until the ritual is finished. That man prayed to the heavens, but it was useless. Failure remained failure. Later, he discovered that the Holy Grail ritual had been constructed in haste and contained numerous problems. Sixty years passed; the ritual had not succeeded, while he himself was already nearing the end of his life.
I will live by any means necessary. I cannot die!
The Grand Mage named Makiri Zolgen did something that disgusted even himself. He devoured the life of a sinner to prolong his own.
He consoled himself that the man had merely been scum, a malignant tumor, and that he had only received what he deserved. Wasn't using the lives of a few pieces of scum to save all humanity the obvious choice?
But the Second Holy Grail War still ended in failure. Sixty years of effort went to waste once more. Moreover, the effects of his magecraft weakened; he had to consume more lives to sustain himself.
There were not enough utterly wicked people, so left with no choice, the mage could only hunt down those whose crimes were less severe, allowing himself to continue clinging to life.
Over those sixty years, his soul deteriorated somewhat, and he lost part of his memories.
Then came the Third Holy Grail War, which also ended in failure.
To stay alive, he had to consume many people. With his memories already somewhat blurred, he could no longer clearly remember his original ideal.
Never forget why you started, and you can see things through to the end. Yet many people forgot their original aspirations along the road of their journey.
The Grand Mage named Makiri Zolgen had pursued immortality in order to save the world, to save humanity. But that purpose became unbearably blurred after countless turns.
Thus, he exhausted every method to extend his lifespan. In the end, he forgot his original dream and became a monster that abandoned his flesh in pursuit of eternal life, a disgusting existence on the verge of decay.
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