Chapter 742: Fujimaru's Journey to the Underworld
It felt like suddenly falling asleep.
Upon waking, his entire body felt light and comfortable, as if freed from worldly shackles—so utterly unburdened.
But when he opened his eyes, the scenery before him had completely transformed.
...Where was this?
Fujimaru gazed at the city gates illuminated by eerie blue lanterns, his eyes widening in shock.
He distinctly remembered searching for the Tablet of Destinies in the city of Kutha. Yet when the mist gathered, bringing a brief moment of obscurity, he found himself transported to this utterly unfamiliar place!
The sky had darkened completely, the chill of night invading Fujimaru's body, making him shiver uncontrollably.
His fear stemmed not just from confusion about his location—what was truly terrifying was that he was now empty-handed!
Neither the communication bracelet linking him to Chaldea nor his Third Magic mystic code remained!
Long-dormant dread wrapped around Fujimaru once more. He took deep breaths, but even his exhales frosted in the air.
"When trouble comes, you can't just sit and wait..." Muttering to himself, the boy refocused on the path ahead, forcing himself to take a step forward.
Looming directly before him stood a towering gatehouse, inscribed with ancient Sumerian cuneiform that shimmered with cold light, radiating an otherworldly aura.
Without Chaldea's support, Fujimaru couldn't decipher the gate's inscriptions, but this didn't stop him from gathering his courage to step through.
Swoosh...
The River of Souls flowed silently. This underworld sky held no stars, yet countless spirit lights glittered in the river like a galaxy reflected on earth, carrying flecks of starlight toward the depths of the capital.
"Naihe... Bridge?"
Before crossing this mysterious moat, Fujimaru noticed a stone tablet erected at the bridgehead. Unlike the gate's script, these characters were bold Chinese calligraphy.
Naihe Bridge—Fujimaru clearly remembered this structure from Chinese mythology. When deceased spirits crossed it, they would lose all memories before reincarnation.
"But wasn't I in Mesopotamia?" Fujimaru stared at the bridge's inscription, utterly perplexed. "Why would there be traces of Chinese mythology here?"
If only he could contact Chaldea now.
Fujimaru sighed inwardly. His gaze moved past the tablet to rest on Naihe Bridge, his expression torn.
The question now—should he cross?
Without crossing, he couldn't enter the city. But if he did, according to legend... he would lose all his memories.
That was unacceptable. The incinerated Human Order still needed saving!
Fujimaru found himself in a dilemma, but soon his face paled further.
Woo woo...
A mournful wind howled like weeping voices.
Without warning, two translucent spirits had appeared on the bridge, floating directly toward him!
Were these the Gallu demons of Sumerian myth, or perhaps the ghost enforcers and Heibai Wuchang of Chinese folklore?
Without his kouhai Mash around, Fujimaru had spent countless hours buried in Chaldea's archives, voraciously absorbing knowledge about world mythologies.
Yet now he wished he'd never learned any of it!
Almost instinctively, he wanted to turn and flee, but reason told him he shouldn't act rashly.
Running was futile.
What chance did an ordinary person like him—stripped of his mystic codes and utterly defenseless—have of escaping in someone else's domain?
Rather than provoking the inhabitants of this place by darting around recklessly, it was better to go with the flow and wait for an opportunity.
Besides, he wasn't completely powerless...
As the two specters floated before him, Fujimaru remained tense, his hands resting on the two crimson Command Spells, composed and restrained.
Then, he saw the wooden signs they held up, the characters scrawled upon them as wild and untamed as the stone tablets of the Naihe Bridge.
"No time to explain..." Fujimaru's lips twitched as he read aloud, word by word. "Get in?"
Carved beams and painted rafters stretched before him, serene and distant.
Without crossing the Naihe Bridge, Fujimaru boarded the ferry of the River Styx under the guidance of the two Gallu spirits, gliding silently along the edges of the capital.
Inevitably, the sights of this mysterious city came into view, leaving Fujimaru unable to contain his awe.
It was hard to imagine that such breathtaking beauty lay hidden within the dreaded depths of the underworld. Though the figures traversing the streets weren't human, the translucent spirits moving in orderly lines presented a different kind of prosperity.
"So beautiful..." Fujimaru murmured.
But soon, a cold, authoritative voice countered him.
"This is no cause for celebration. The livelier the underworld, the more perilous the world above becomes."
At some point, another figure had appeared on the ferry.
Golden hair, pale and flawless skin, eyes so vivid they seemed to possess an uncanny allure—the longer one looked, the more they inspired both reverence and fondness.
Clad in a black-and-gold robe and crowned with a strangely familiar diadem, the sight made Fujimaru's eyes widen involuntarily.
He stood up instinctively, a chill running down his spine.
"Finally noticed me, have you?"
The beautiful goddess gave a slight nod. "Hello, Fujimaru Ritsuka."
"You are..."
Fujimaru stared blankly. "Ishtar?"
For a brief moment, the boy thought he saw the goddess stumble, her head bowing as flames of humiliation and fury flickered in her eyes... But when she looked up again, her expression was as composed as ever.
"I am not that wanton, shameless goddess."
"R-right." Fujimaru forced a dry laugh. "Then... how do you know me?"
"You have seen me, so I have seen you."
Like a true, enigmatic deity worthy of worship, the goddess spoke calmly. "The moment you set foot in Kutha—no, the moment you arrived in Mesopotamia, or perhaps even earlier—word of you flowed along the River Styx and into my hands."
"..." The sheer weight of her words left Fujimaru at a loss. He glanced around, changing the subject. "Where am I?"
"Haven't you already guessed?" the goddess replied. "This is the Mesopotamian underworld."
"Then, you must be—"
"Who I am is unimportant." The mistress of the underworld turned, leaving Fujimaru with only the elegant curve of her back. "But what you seek is in my possession."
"The Tablet of Destinies?" Fujimaru startled, then quickly steadied himself. "May I ask... what must I give in return?"
He didn't believe that under such tense circumstances, a goddess would freely bestow such a precious treasure upon humans.
Hearing this, the goddess turned her face slightly, casting an approving glance at him. "A wise choice. My demands are few—just several questions to ask."
"Questions?"
"Indeed. Once you've answered them, I'll also give you some small gifts." The goddess turned away as the luminous River of Souls flowed before her, her beauty growing more radiant in the gentle glow.
"Alright..." Fujimaru took a deep breath. "Ask away."
To his surprise, the goddess didn't make things difficult for him. She merely asked casually about his experiences and thoughts along his journey, and Fujimaru answered each one earnestly.
"Now, the final question." Just as Fujimaru began to relax, the words of the Underworld goddess made him tense up again.
"Please go ahead."
"How did your Third Magic Mystic Code end up like this?"
"...You even know about that." Fujimaru chuckled helplessly. "Truly worthy of the supreme goddess of the Underworld."
"Of course." Though the goddess appeared composed, there was a hint of pride as she slightly lifted her chin, noble yet with a touch of playfulness.
"Fine, it's not something worth keeping secret." Fujimaru gathered his thoughts and began recounting the story of the Third Magic Mystic Code.
What Sakatsuki had given Fujimaru wasn't just the Mystic Code—there were also several blank Class Cards.
His intention was for the people of Chaldea to inscribe some magecraft onto them, giving Fujimaru basic self-defense capabilities.
But the problem was—what kind of place was Chaldea?
A facility capable of designing two pieces of black technology like Sheba and Spiritron Transfer, with the 'Universal Genius' Da Vinci at its helm. When it came to Fujimaru's safety, all the technicians fully exercised their initiative, proposing one blood pressure-spiking idea after another for the doctor.
In the end, these tech geeks set their sights on the poor, helpless Servants.
Since the Third Magic shared the same origin as Heroic Spirit summoning, why not have the Class Cards directly absorb the power of Servants?
The proposal from the Universal Genius received unanimous approval from Chaldea's technical department.
And so, by sheer coincidence, the Class Cards once again came to bear the power of Heroic Spirits from different classes, becoming a crucial aid in Fujimaru's journey.
"I see..." After listening to Fujimaru's account, the goddess rubbed her chin and murmured, "Just as he suspected."
"Him?"
"Mmm, it's nothing." The goddess shook her head, regaining her dignified demeanor. "Now, take this, Fujimaru. This is what you came for."
With that, the goddess reached into her wide sleeves and retrieved a clay tablet, handing it to Fujimaru.
"So this is the Tablet of Destinies..." Fujimaru accepted the treasure with both hands, not daring to be careless, when suddenly his expression froze—from beneath the tablet, he pulled out a card.
A dazzling light illuminated his eyes.
"This... this is...!"
"A trivial gift." The goddess chuckled lightly at Fujimaru's stunned expression. "Consider it thanks for telling me your story."
Splash...
The sound of flowing water beside them suddenly grew louder. Fujimaru snapped out of his daze, only to be plunged into even greater astonishment!
At some unknown moment, the River Styx bent at a ninety-degree angle as if twisted by a giant, flowing upward against its current. Gazing into the distance, it seemed to pierce through the pitch-black dome of the underworld!
The small boat they were riding in also seemed to defy gravity, ascending along the inverted river!
"Time is limited, so I won't keep you for milk tea," the goddess said, covering her mouth with a ladylike laugh, clearly pleased with Fujimaru's current expression. "The card I gave you possesses unimaginable power upon first use, but once that power is exhausted, it will return to normal. So use it wisely. And one more thing..."
The roar of the Styx grew louder, and amidst the chaos, Fujimaru faintly heard the goddess's final words.
"And... they are pitiable souls too. Be kind to them..."
They? Who?
Fujimaru hazily pondered this, feeling as though he was floating once more, drawn toward the call of return.
By the time he regained his senses, he was already back in the city of Kutha, clutching the most precious treasure in his hand.
In the distance, thunderous booms rolled like war drums, deafening and overwhelming.
What's happening?!
Fujimaru turned toward the source of the noise. Countless bursts of violent light flared and faded, accompanied by faint roars filled with boundless agony and fury.
But clearer still was the maniacal laughter—a sound he would never forget!
"Hahahaha... Is this all you've got?!" the voice taunted mercilessly. "If it's already broken beyond repair, then just replace it! Whether it's from the underworld or the sun, they all make fine vessels!"
"You... bastards!" The furious roar carried a deeply familiar tone, making Fujimaru frown as he turned back.
"Miss Gogh, you..."
His words cut off abruptly.
The female Servant who had been following him in his memories was now gone. Fujimaru looked down and saw that his torch had been trampled into splinters!
Like some ominous omen.
The mysterious woman who called herself Gogh, the bone-chilling laughter in the distance, and the goddess's meaningful warning...
"You scared me to death, Fujimaru! What happened?!" The doctor's warm yet frantic voice crackled back to life. "Chaldea's communications were completely cut off, and your vital signs disappeared for a moment!"
"I'm fine, Doctor," Fujimaru replied, carefully stowing the Tablet of Destinies before pausing to pull out a radiant, shimmering card from his pocket.
"A new Class Card?" A curious voice joined the comms—undoubtedly Chaldea's technical expert, Da Vinci. "Fujimaru, I don't recall any spare blank Class Cards lying around."
"The goddess of the underworld gave it to me," Fujimaru admitted without hesitation.
"What—?!" The doctor and the crafty merchant exclaimed in unison. No wonder they were shocked—this was supposed to be Chaldea's proprietary technology!
How did an underworld goddess in a Singularity get her hands on such a thing?!
"Fujimaru, what's going on?"
"I'm just as curious, but now's not the time to dwell on it," the boy said, tucking away the mysterious Class Card and skillfully manifesting his mechanical armor and Round Table Shield before breaking into a sprint. "Miss Gogh might be in danger."
"So what are you planning to do?" The doctor watched Fujimaru's movements through the feed, his lips twisting with a sense of foreboding.
Sure enough, he heard Fujimaru's resolute declaration:
"Save her!"
————
BOOM!
Countless black beams descended like inverted claws, most of them deflected by the golden, molten wings before exploding violently upon hitting the ground, sending up dazzling crimson clouds.
Under such devastating force, the defensive golden wings fared little better—countless feathers snapped and fell, their divine glow extinguished midair before being swallowed by the flames. Yet in the next instant, more black streaks tore through the sky, raining down like a storm.
High above the night sky, the Baal Lahmus crossed their clawed limbs, sneering as they relentlessly drove their energy attacks, their cruelty and savagery on full display.
This was how they intended to grind down this disobedient tool—slowly, mercilessly.
An enemy of divine rank was terrifying enough, let alone two such monstrous beings driven by madness. Even Gorgon, the Beast Goddess of the Three Goddess Alliance, could do nothing but endure under this relentless bombardment.
Her divine power was nearly exhausted... Gorgon gritted her teeth, blood trickling from her lips as she endured the searing pain of her wings nearing collapse.
She knew she was marching toward a slow death, yet there was nothing she could do. The gap in strength was an insurmountable chasm, crushing any hope of survival.
Was this the end?
Gorgon's eyes dimmed as she let out a bitter, involuntary laugh.
"In the end, I'm going to be killed by these filthy mongrels."
What a disgrace—this fate-bound tragedy.
Just as she closed her eyes, resigned to her unwilling and lonely demise, the endless bombardment suddenly ceased.
Then, she heard a young man's clear voice:
"Miss Gorgon, I'm here to save you!"