The years are long. Since the destruction of Great Britain, Morgan had left that island that had broken her heart. In addition, her own physical condition was not that good. So before she left, she had not placed any powerful magic on her magic workshop. At the same time, after leaving, she had never set foot on this land again.
Therefore, her magic workshop was already in a state of disrepair, covered in dust. Those things related to her own little sister had also long since vanished without a trace. Come to think of it, at that time, in her confused state of mind, what she had left on her hands was actually only a portion of her sister's blood. That little bit of blood was what was left over from Mordred's time. It had long since turned into nothingness in the passage of time. Plus, she had not kept anything related to her sister on her. It was precisely because, after obtaining the qualification for the Holy Grail War, she had found that she had no catalyst, otherwise she would not have had to come here to take this so-called grave dirt.
Originally, she had wanted to take the sealed Holy Spear, but as a result, that village was basically already in ruins, and the enshrined Holy Spear was nowhere to be found. She hoped that this so-called "King Arthur's Grave" dirt would allow her to successfully summon Artoria.
Let's shift our gaze back to the Far East. After discovering that he had become a participant in the Holy Grail War, Sigma thought for a moment, and finally, still took out his mobile phone and made a call to the distant Antarctica. Of course, it was to his partner, Matou Shinji. His own strength was limited, so of course, he had to call in foreign aid.
Anyway, he didn't have any wish that he had to realize. At that time, it would be fine to give the wishing opportunity to his partner. Anyway, with that sister-complex's way of thinking, his wish would also be related to his sister. Maybe he would make some slightly absurd wish like "make everyone praise my sister." But that was much better than destroying the world or something. Even if he were to give the wishing opportunity to a "pervert," he would absolutely not give it to those who wanted to destroy the world.
And Shinji in Antarctica, looking at his own sister who had refused to travel with him, had a smile on his face. His own sister was going to the Far East with that blacksmith. Originally, he had been thinking about whether he should secretly follow them. But if he secretly followed, it was very likely that it would make his sister unhappy. This conflict was giving him a headache.
It was different now. He had a solid reason to go to the Far East and return to his hometown. He had been invited. He was going to help his partner fight a Holy Grail War. This reason was sufficient, right? At that time, he would also have enough reason to help his sister, who was preparing to enter this Holy Grail War.
As expected of my partner, helping me out so much!
At the same time, in a certain handmade cutlery shop in Fuyuki City, a young man with red-orange hair was cleaning up his own warehouse. They could be considered a family that had been passed down for many years. Therefore, there were really quite a few things in the warehouse. In fact, many of them were already covered in dust. From the things piled up in the warehouse, he was afraid that many of them could be traced back to several hundred years ago.
So my family has such a long history? Before, he had always been preoccupied with his own interests and had not so seriously explored his family's history. But then again, his family's blade-forging skills were so good that basically people from other cities would come to buy their handmade kitchen knives. With such forging skills, how could his family be ordinary?
The young man gently shook his head, and then his eyes lit up again. He had heard his cheap teacher say before that he had a talent for peeking into the other side of the world. This should be related to their family, right? He had heard his cheap teacher say that in that world, there were families that forged weapons. In that case, it was possible that this warehouse contained records of the family's forging techniques from the past. In that case, wouldn't he be able to complete his goal and become a great swordsmith?!
Although it was now an era of peace, and with the advent of firearms, his old man had often said that there was no need to forge cold weapons anymore. Just by forging kitchen knives, which people couldn't live without, the family could continue on. But the young man always felt that even if it was just treating samurai swords as works of art, they should still continue to be forged. What's more, weren't there still so many young people and collectors who liked swords? And the samurai sword competitions, as well as the competitions between samurai holding them, had not been banned. Only when one day no one in this world needed samurai swords, would it be time for them to change careers, right? What's more, they could do both. Who said they couldn't sell high-quality handmade kitchen knives at the same time as they were selling samurai sword works of art?
Although he had been discovered by his old man secretly using the long-sealed forge in the family's backyard to forge samurai swords, and had been scolded many times, he just didn't want to learn his lesson. A young man has to have a young man's passion. When he was a child, he had fantasized about holding a samurai sword, wearing new-era armor, and becoming an armored hero. Although he was often teased as a "hot-blooded madman" and "ally of justice," it didn't seem so bad to hear such nicknames. At least he himself didn't feel unhappy.
"You really are an optimist. But optimist heroes often don't live long. You should occasionally think a little, and not just rush in every time you encounter something."
His cheap teacher had already told him this many times. But every time he saw someone who needed help, he still couldn't help but rush in. Because of this behavior, he had also been injured many times. But because of his own physical fitness, he had never been seriously injured. That's right, no serious injuries. The most serious one was just having his limbs fractured and staying in the hospital for a full half a year. Compared to a fatal wound, this little injury was really not worth mentioning. Of course, if he really died on the road of helping others, then he would die with no regrets.
In any case, he should tidy up the warehouse first. He put on a mask and, with a childlike innocence, began to pull out some useless sundries. A few books fell from the top of the sundries onto the young man's head. He rubbed his own head, picked up the books that had fallen on the ground, only to find that what had fallen on the ground was not just modern books, but also an existence that looked like a scroll.
No wonder it hurt so much when it hit my head. So it was the wooden part in the middle of the scroll that hit me.
He wiped the dust from the scroll. The two words "Family Registry" were written on it.