Beneath Ryuudou Temple, the vast cavern.
This was the center of Fuyuki City's Spiritual Veins, and the core location of the Greater Grail system.
The air was thick with magical energy so dense it had nearly taken on physical form, and... a pure malice potent enough to drive any normal creature mad.
At the center of the cavern was an enormous "pool," like the mouth of hell.
Within the pool churned a viscous "mud," black as ink.
It was not real mud.
It was "all the evils of this world," the purest aggregate of curses brought down by the polluted Grail sixty years ago, in the Third Holy Grail War.
Anything that touched it would be instantly devoured, assimilated, and twisted by the immense mass of information and malice it contained.
Yet Seiji Fujiwara stood at the edge of this "hell" with not the slightest tension or fear on his face.
Quite the opposite.
What flickered in his eyes was greed, excitement, and the fervor of seeing a top-grade material!
"What a marvelous creation..."
He stretched out his hand, as if he could feel the wails and curses of hundreds of millions of souls emanating from that black mud.
"Wrath, envy, greed, despair... gathering every negative thing together gave birth instead to this... wish-granting machine of a different kind, one that holds the power to realize anything."
"This world really is fascinating."
[Warning! High-concentration Concept Pollution source detected, Angra Mainyu!]
[Analyzing its composition... analysis progress: 1%... 5%... 15%...]
[Analysis complete! This pollution source is essentially a vast, masterless aggregate of magical energy, which can be guided and controlled through a specific protocol!]
Masterless, of course, Seiji sneered inwardly. Because its new master has only just arrived.
Behind him, the Age of Gods witch Medea was staring at the churning black mud with a look approaching reverence.
Even a great magus of the Age of Gods like her felt a tremble rise from her very soul in the face of this pure "evil."
But her master could regard it as a mere plaything.
"Medea." Seiji's voice broke into her thoughts.
"Yes, my Lord." Medea immediately bowed respectfully.
"Begin." Seiji commanded flatly. "Use your Age of Gods magecraft to analyze the control hub of this cauldron for me. I want its highest level of authority."
"...Yes!"
Medea drew a deep breath and began chanting an ancient incantation. Countless runes surfaced in the air, becoming streams of information that probed into that black mire.
Not far from them, a petite figure was bound in midair by invisible chains of magical energy.
It was Saber, Artoria.
This once-noble King of Knights now resembled a broken puppet.
Her eyes were hollow, lost of all focus. On that pretty face, which always carried resolve and glory, there remained only numbness and stupor.
Her Master's collapse, her comrades' betrayal, the ruin of her ideals... and finally, the cruel truth Seiji Fujiwara had revealed beside her ear, "Your arrival was part of my plan from the very beginning."
This chain of blows had utterly destroyed her heart, hard as steel, the heart that belonged to a "king."
Her spirit was already dead.
What remained was merely a perfect "base body" possessing a top-tier Saint Graph.
A vessel... awaiting being "reshaped" anew.
Seiji couldn't even be bothered to spare her another glance.
To him, the current Saber was only a half-finished product.
What he savored was the process of personally completing the final "step."
"My Lord, I found it!" Fine beads of sweat seeped from Medea's face, but her voice was full of excitement. "Its core is occupied by the will of Angra Mainyu. As long as we strip away that outer shell..."
"No need for all that trouble."
Seiji cut her off.
He slowly raised his hand, palm aimed at the churning black mud.
[System directive: Activating Absolute Authority (world rule resolution 35%), enforcing concept of ownership over the target Angra Mainyu!]
"From this moment on."
Seiji's voice was not loud, yet it seemed to carry a magic where words became law, resounding through the entire underground cavern.
"...you belong to me."
A low hum rang out.
That endlessly churning black mud, brimming with the will of violence and destruction, seemed to be seized by the throat by an invisible giant hand!
All the roaring, all the curses, all the grudges...
In that instant, came to an abrupt stop!
The entire pool of black mud went smooth and still as a mirror, silent as death.
Like a tyrannical sovereign who, upon seeing a higher, true "god," chose the most complete, most abject... submission.
Medea watched, dumbstruck.
This... what power was this?
Not magecraft, not True Magic, not even any Mystery she could comprehend.
This was a power of... "definition"!
It was the authority belonging to a creator god, "what I say you are, you become"!
"Good."
Seiji nodded with satisfaction.
He turned and walked step by step toward the blonde King of Knights suspended in the air.
"Now then, Artoria."
A "merciful," saint-like smile appeared on his face.
"Your illness has become terminal."
"But don't worry."
"I will... cure you personally."
"I will tear that mistaken, laughable ideal of yours out of your soul by the roots."
"And then, I will pour into you a brand-new, correct world."
With that, he waved his hand.
The chains of magical energy binding Saber snapped at once.
That petite body, stripped of all will to resist, plunged straight down like a kite with its string cut, toward the death-still black mire below.
A soft splash.
The black "evil" instantly and utterly devoured that trace of sacred "gold."
Consciousness rose slowly from endless darkness.
Artoria opened her eyes.
There was none of the pain and filth she had anticipated.
What met her eyes was a deep blue, boundless sky, with warm sunlight pouring over her, carrying the fragrance of fresh grass.
In her ears came the earth-shaking cheers and hymns of the people.
"O King! Our great King!"
"Praise you, King Arthur! It was you who brought us peace and bountiful harvests!"
"Long live Britain! Long live King Artoria!"
Where... was she?
Artoria looked around in a daze.
She found herself standing on the highest balcony of Camelot Castle, clad in that familiar silver-white armor that symbolized her kingship.
In her hand she gripped that brilliant golden holy sword representing "ideal," Excalibur.
Below the castle was the prosperous royal capital.
The streets were clean, lined with shops, the people dressed in fine clothes, every face beaming with smiles of happiness and contentment.
In the fields, golden waves of wheat rolled, and the granaries overflowed.
At the borders, there was no longer any harassment from barbarians.
The knights no longer needed to bleed for war, but had become symbols guarding order and maintaining peace.
This place...
This was the prosperous Britain she had longed for in her dreams, the one of her ideals.
She... had succeeded?
She had saved her country?
An immense, indescribable joy and relief surged into her heart.
So the Grail... had truly granted her wish.
"Well done, my King."
A gentle, magnetic voice rang out behind her.
Artoria spun around sharply.
There stood Seiji Fujiwara, dressed in an ornate, dignified black formal suit she had never seen before, an approving smile on his face, standing behind her.
"You..."
Artoria's pupils contracted sharply, and she instinctively gripped the holy sword tighter, taking a defensive stance.
This man!
This devil who had destroyed everything of hers! Why was he here?!
But the hostility she anticipated did not appear.
The moment the people and knights around her saw Seiji Fujiwara, their faces showed a reverence and adoration a hundred times more fervent than what they had shown her!
They knelt one after another, crying out in the most devout posture.
"Praise you! Great Envoy of God!"
"It was you who brought us the gospel of God!"
"It was you who guided our King onto the correct path!"
"Praise Lord Seiji Fujiwara!"
Artoria was completely stunned.
Envoy of God?
Guided her?
What on earth was going on?
"It seems you're still a little confused, Artoria."
Seiji walked slowly to her side and stood shoulder to shoulder with her, looking down together at this prosperous land.
"Have you forgotten?"
"In your most despairing, most helpless moment, it was I who descended before you."
"It was I who granted you a divine revelation enough to rewrite history."
"It was I who taught you how to use iron and blood to purge those nobles who paid you lip service while betraying you behind your back."
"It was I who brought you a divine method of agriculture that could increase crop yields a hundredfold, so that famine vanished completely from the land of Britain."
"It was I who drew up the most perfect blueprint of governance for you, turning this country, in the span of just a few years, into the utopia it is now."
His voice was full of bewitchment.
As if recounting a stretch of "correct" history that should have been this way all along.
In Artoria's mind, countless unfamiliar fragments of "memory" began to surface beyond her control.
In those "memories," it was indeed under Seiji Fujiwara's "help" that she had, step by step, solved every difficulty and finally led Britain to an unprecedented prosperity.
She... seemed... to have truly... succeeded by relying on this man?
Her conviction began to waver once more.
"Everything you have done is utterly correct, my King." Seiji's face carried a near-perfect, encouraging smile. "But you must remember."
His voice suddenly turned immensely majestic, like the edict of a god.
"Everything you possess, everything you have created... all of it was bestowed upon you by me."
"This country is my work."
"And you, Artoria, are my most satisfactory... Executor."
With that, he reached out and gently stroked the girl's golden hair.
The gesture carried not a trace of lust.
It was more like a creator admiring his most outstanding creation.
Artoria's body stiffened.
She felt that the joy named "success" that she had only just managed to raise in her heart was being replaced by a colder emotion named "falsehood."
She had saved her country.
But the price was turning the entire country, along with herself, into this man's private property.
Was this... truly the "salvation" she had wanted?
She looked at the people below, at those uniform, perfect smiles of happiness, as if stamped out from the same mold.
An inexplicable chill rose slowly from her spine.
Artoria began to doubt.
She began to observe this "perfect" world.
She walked out into the streets, and the people prostrated themselves before her, an endless stream of praise filling her ears. But deep in their eyes, something seemed to be missing.
Something... called a "self."
She walked into the fields, where the ears of wheat were unnaturally plump, every stalk growing exactly alike. The farmers labored tirelessly, happy smiles on their faces, yet like a swarm of machines set to a program.
She came to the Round Table council.
Lancelot, Gawain, Bedivere... her knights, who had once each had their own distinct character and would often argue with her, now all looked at her with the same immensely respectful gaze, free of the slightest stray thought.
"My King, every decision you make is absolutely correct."
"We will follow you forever, and the Envoy of God who stands behind you."
The entire world was like a perfect play set to a script.
And she was the nominal protagonist.
But the true director was that man, named Seiji Fujiwara, who was everywhere.
His portrait hung in every temple, worshipped by the masses.
His sayings had been compiled into the Book of Divine Revelation, becoming the highest standard of all law and morality.
This Britain was not hers.
It was his.
That night, Artoria came alone to the courtyard where the Sword in the Stone was lodged.
She reached out and gently stroked the cold hilt.
This sword was the starting point of her becoming a "king."
It had also become the curse that bound her entire life.
"Still lost?"
Seiji Fujiwara's figure appeared behind her like a phantom.
In this world, he could appear anywhere he wished.
Artoria did not turn around.
She only asked in an immensely weary, hoarse voice:
"This... is the cure you spoke of?"
"Turning me into a marionette, turning my country into your pasture?"
"Isn't this what you wanted?" Seiji's voice carried a hint of innocent amusement. "Look, no one goes hungry, no one dies, no war, no chaos. Everyone lives happily."
"Isn't this the ideal you spent your whole life trying to realize?"
"I merely helped you realize it, in a more efficient, more correct way."
"This is not an ideal!"
Artoria spun around, and in those emerald-green eyes, for the first time, the flames of rage reignited.
"This is falsehood! This is slavery!"
"They've lost their freedom, lost their thoughts. They're no longer human, just a herd of laughing livestock!"
"Freedom? Thoughts?"
Seiji acted as if he'd heard some enormous joke.
"Artoria, oh Artoria, you really are still so naive."
He closed in on the girl step by step, those deep eyes full of undisguised, condescending pity.
"Your so-called freedom only brings strife and war."
"Your so-called thought only breeds greed and betrayal."
"It is precisely because you gave them too much freedom and thought that your Britain perished! That your Camelot was burned to ashes in a single fire!"
"You failed!"
"And I succeeded!"
His voice fell like a heavy hammer, word by word, striking at Artoria's most fragile wound.
"That wish of yours to save Britain was, from the very beginning, never for this country, nor for these people."
"You only wanted to set your own conscience at ease!"
"You only wanted to make up for that pitiful, insignificant sense of guilt over your failure as a king!"
"Admit it, Artoria!"
His face was almost pressed against the girl's, his voice like a devil's whisper, full of an irresistible magic.
"Your wish was salvation."
"No... it was arrogance!"
"It was the ugly, selfish arrogance of a failure unwilling to admit her own failure!"
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