For an ordinary human to use magecraft, they must possess magical circuits. Otherwise, the only way is through magical tools or mana crystals—there's no other method. But the contents of this book were entirely different.
It recorded another way to practice magecraft and nurture mana: human emotion was a form of mana. Human flesh and blood also contained magical essence.
By using the blood and flesh of one's closest kin as offerings, one could obtain unimaginable power.
The closer the relationship, the greater the magical energy within that flesh. The book listed countless methods of torturing one's loved ones to extract vast mana from them.
Evil? No, "evil" wasn't sufficient to describe it. This was the way of demons—the true demonic path. Even a child who had witnessed countless deaths across many lifetimes was shocked by what was written there.
But if what was written were true… maybe, just maybe... Why had he never heard of it before? Still, even if it was true, what of it? His only "kin" was that disgusting old thing, after all.
Not to mention torture—he couldn't even touch him.
The boy slumped, about to put the book back. But the corner of his eye caught a title on one page, and he immediately drew the book close again.
If the sacrifice was the caster's own flesh—it could produce even greater mana.
"Maybe…" The boy looked at the book in his hands, then at the giant magic circle on the floor. "I want to protect Sakura. Even just once… Let this be redemption—for all the sins my other selves in other worlds have committed."
His eyes grew steadily firmer.
That boy's name was Shinji Matou, his hair falling like dark seaweed.
In an old mansion in the suburbs of Fuyuki City—an ancient building so eerie that even ordinary people felt sick approaching—it was the home of the Matou family, one of the legendary three founding magus families.
And directly beneath that building, in a basement, a bald old man wearing a kimono and holding a cane looked down below with a twisted, ecstatic smile.
A little girl with dark hair, blank eyes, and only a thin pink nightdress lay there. From the shadows on the walls came a strange, rustling sound—like insects writhing and crawling. It was nauseating.
"The Tohsaka family's talent—what a waste to let it go. Such an enticing aptitude. But it will all belong to me." The elder, radiating a foul stench of decay, stared greedily at Sakura. This old man was Zouken Matou, head of the Matou family—and truly filthy.
The rustling grew louder. In the dim light, countless disgusting worms could be seen, their heads grotesquely shaped like male organs. When their heads split open, rows of sharp teeth were visible, dripping slug-like slime.
Even a grown man would feel his scalp crawl at the sight.
"Heheheh… Once your body is remodeled, I wonder what kind of offspring you'll produce for the Matou line." Zouken drooled as he spoke.
This centuries-old monster maintained the Matou family's lineage directly through his own endless corruption.
"Papa… Mama… help me." Sakura began to stir, fully waking. But her tiny body seemed helpless before the swarming horde of insects.
She trembled in terrified despair, staring up at Zouken on the high platform, clinging to the hope that it was only a nightmare.
But what she saw was nothing but his deformed, lustful smile.
"I'll be good, I promise! Please don't abandon me! Please—save me!" The desperation on her childish face was unbearable to describe.
And yet, it was the second time that day such a look had appeared on a child's face in the Matou household.
"Sakura, no one will come to save you. You've been abandoned—by your parents and by the world. Accept it, heheheh." Seeing her despair only excited him further.
Is it true… that I've been abandoned? Because I wasn't good? Young Sakura couldn't understand any of it.
"Rin… Shinji-nii…" With the worms just meters away, Sakura struggled to call two names.
Rin Tohsaka—her sister. And Shinji Matou, the only one in the Matou house who had shown her even a shred of warmth.
"Shinji?" Zouken sneered, disgusted, "You're calling that useless failure's name?" Not a trace of family affection existed in him.
"Ahhh!" Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Matou mansion, Shinji carried out the ritual described in his book.
In his right hand was a blood-dripping dagger; where his left arm should have been, there was only emptiness.
Blood poured freely, but Shinji didn't care. His face was twisted in agony, but he clenched his teeth and carried on.
A faint red rune appeared on his neck, but he didn't even notice.
"Relics? Who needs them. Even without one, I can summon a Servant!" His lips were turning pale from blood loss.
"Silver and iron to the origin. The foundation to the archduke of contracts.
Let the winds that blow be the walls that restrain. Let the gates of the four directions be closed.
From the crown, arriving at the fork of the kingdom—let it be released.
Close. Close. Close. Close. Close."
As Shinji chanted, the circle began to shine red. For once, he smiled with hope—only for his face to soon twist again.
By the fifth repetition, his left arm was gone entirely, and the light of the circle was fading. The summoning was failing.
"But that means my body can serve as the sacrifice! Then take it! Take it! Take everything!"
Lost in madness, Shinji collapsed onto the circle as an offering, continuing to chant.
"Only—to shatter overflowing crests—
—Declaration.
Your body shall be under my command; my fate shall rest upon your sword."
His right leg vanished, pain driving him nearly unconscious.
"If you obey the call of the Grail, if your will and law are just, then answer me—by this vow!" His left leg disappeared.
"I am he who embodies all good in the world," his left eye vanished.
"I am he who conveys all evil of the world." Then his right eye followed, leaving only two black hollows.
"Let the three great words be bound to you for seven days. From the wheel of restraint, from the scales of protection—!" His last remaining hand faded away.
A searing white light erupted from the circle.
A tall figure emerged before Shinji.
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