"That sound is bizarre... incomprehensible yet instantly understood in my mind. Whatever. More importantly," his eyes narrowed at the cursed spirits, "if you're both here, then Mahito must be nearby too?"
He secretly expanded his Realm of Perception, maximizing his spatial perception.
Being ambushed immediately upon arrival meant these two had long marked this location as strategic, anticipating enemy appearances.
Though hard to believe, the root coordinates might have been too precise.
It's likely that when Mahito was revived by this world at death's door, this was his reentry point.
The root coordinates followed Mahito's trail, dumping Roy at this same location.
This shared landing spot with Mahito.
Thus, he walked straight into Jogo and Hanami's ambush.
Otherwise, the odds of randomly encountering two roaming special-grade curses upon arrival would be lottery-winning levels of improbable.
Their ambush here? Almost certainly orchestrated by Mahito's influence.
"HAHAHAHA!"
At that moment, a piercing laughter that seemed capable of rupturing eardrums echoed from the sky.
Roy's gaze flickered, his expression remaining unchanged, yet his feet retreated three steps backward.
Boom!
Immediately after, a figure brushed past his retreating form as it descended from the heavens like a colossal hammer, smashing into the asphalt ground. The impact shattered the earth in a radial pattern spanning several meters around the point of impact.
"You remember me! That makes me so happy!"
The figure stood about three meters tall, looming over Roy like a miniature giant.
Though its shape was vaguely humanoid, its entire body was covered in festering purple boils, its skin a sickly bluish-purple hue resembling a corpse that had been hanged alive. The stench of decay clung heavily to it.
In comparison, the faint stitching marks on its body were hardly noticeable features.
This monster, though slightly altered from the form Roy had seen in Tokyo days earlier, was unmistakably the same cursed spirit—Mahito!
As Mahito landed before him, Roy instantly adjusted his stance, which had been momentarily disrupted by the quaking earth. Pivoting like a spinning top, he launched a devastating roundhouse kick at Mahito!
Boom!
The force of the kick vibrated through the atmosphere, the air itself seeming to explode with a deafening roar.
Yet Mahito reacted swiftly, crossing his arms defensively before his torso.
Crash!
A mountainous force slammed into him, sending Mahito flying backward.
But as he was hurled away, the boils on his arms burst like overripe fruit, spraying purple venomous blood in a wide arc toward Roy.
Roy's expression remained impassive as he ignored the toxic spray.
In the next instant, a radiant white barrier materialized around his body without warning, deflecting every drop of the venom without allowing even his clothes to be stained.
"Such speed! Such power!"
Jogo, watching from the sidelines, widened his eyes unblinkingly, as if trying to pierce through the combatants with his gaze, his mind reeling with disbelief.
"There's no trace of cursed energy flow! They're not reinforcing their bodies with cursed energy—they're fighting with pure physical strength alone!"
Though Mahito had changed considerably, cursed spirits weren't particularly concerned with appearances. As long as their power grew, there was nothing to complain about.
In contrast, that human was the real monster!
In a contest of pure physicality, he seemed to have overpowered Mahito with superior strength?
"Ever the flawless one, leaving no openings as usual!"
Mahito skidded over ten meters before stopping, crouching on all fours like a beast. His limbs scraped against the asphalt, leaving trails of toxic blood in his wake.
His boil-covered face now wore an expression of manic excitement, resembling a drug addict in the throes of withdrawal, his eyes nearly devoid of intelligence.
"Even in that dreamlike place—whether it was the black-haired one or the red-haired one, they all had vulnerable points they cared about. Only you... maintained that merciless facade!"
"That's great, so it wasn't just a dream—it really happened somewhere. Otherwise, I could never accept looking like this ghostly mess!"
The tone in Mahito's voice suddenly darkened, like a restless beast growling in anger.
A dreamlike place?
Hearing this, Roy couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, lost in thought.
Did Mahito not have full confidence in his memories of the Type-Moon world? Did he think those were just events from a dream?
Despite the drastic changes that had occurred to him—from barely resembling a human to becoming so hideous even ghosts would bow in defeat—he still wasn't entirely confident in his own memories.
Had the Root tampered with them?
That made sense.
Even if a human couldn't bring any benefits back from the world of Type-Moon, the Root likely wouldn't want knowledge about itself spreading across other worlds.
When it allowed the human to leave, it had probably also altered his memories, making them far more indistinct.
The evidence was clear—he had once been fully aware of crossing over into the Type-Moon world, yet now he treated it as "a dreamlike place." Most likely, he had lost all awareness of "world-crossing."
But if the Root had the means to do this, why not simply wipe his memories entirely? Perhaps such a drastic measure would be too conspicuous, revealing its own interference? This was likely a matter of contention between worlds, far beyond his current ability to intervene.
As for why the Root hadn't bothered informing Roy about this, it probably didn't even consider such trivialities worth mentioning.
"That appearance of yours really is too hideous to show in public."
Roy withdrew his thoughts and gave the human a once-over, his gaze filled with undisguised disdain.
"Not only has your appearance turned grotesque, but it seems your brain's gone missing too. Are those poison sores growing inside your skull as well?"
The toxic blood he had smeared across the ground when kicked away was now corroding the asphalt, emitting a thick, acrid stench.
It was the poison of a curse.
"And whose fault is that?!"
Like a beast provoked by the scent of blood, the human glared at Roy and roared in fury.
"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have had to become like this! This ugly, detestable form—every second, I'm being corroded by the curse, every moment wracked with agony! Without you, I wouldn't be like this! I could've grown stronger slowly, steadily, without ever suffering these side effects!"
Under the overwhelming pressure of Roy's terrifying power, he had been forced to absorb an excessive amount of curses in one go.
What happened afterward was already a blur.
He had no memory of losing control—only that when he awoke, he found himself in an alley, his recollections as hazy as a dream.
Since then, every inch of his body had been in excruciating pain, tormented endlessly by the curse, with no relief in sight.
The curse of All the World's Evil had inflicted irreversible damage upon him.
Even as a cursed spirit, facing such a horrifying curse, he had been utterly overwhelmed—like a lake shattered by the force of the sea.
Though slightly better than when he had first absorbed the curse, his rationality hadn't fully returned. He had completely lost his greatest weapons—cunning and deceit—reduced to nothing but a volatile, rage-filled wreck.
And worse, All the World's Evil was a curse that could corrupt the soul.
He was doomed to remain in this grotesque form for the rest of his life. He had tried using Idle Transfiguration on himself, attempting to reshape his soul back to its original state to restore his body—but it was useless. The curse clinging to his soul was like a festering parasite, impossible to remove no matter how he altered himself.
"You really have no brains left. The words coming out of your mouth are as disgusting as the festering sores on your body—utterly unbearable to witness."
Roy nodded with a smile as he spoke.
"...I've got a brilliant idea."
The cursed spirit fell silent for a second before its facial features abruptly twisted in rage.
"I'll turn you into this very same wretched state! Make you suffer the torment of curses every waking moment! Let's see if you can still run that sharp mouth of yours then!"
Roy's taunts had completely ignited its murderous intent.
With a shudder of its arms, the cursed spirit sprouted countless razor-sharp spikes across its limbs—like a porcupine—before roaring and charging at Roy!
"Seems you've learned absolutely nothing from our last encounter."
Roy let out an unconcerned chuckle.
His right hand swept across his waist, producing a pure white Orga Lux.
Before the Sword of the Black Furnace's power to sever and incinerate all things, neither organic nor inorganic matter could escape being cleaved in two!
Roy channeled magical energy into the Orga Lux.
The demonic blade sparked with a sizzling sound.
Then... nothing happened.
"...?"
Roy blinked, slowly forming a silent question mark in his mind.
The Sword of the Black Furnace in his hand now radiated waves of confusion—as if even it didn't understand what had gone wrong.
Damn.
Equipment malfunction!
And I'm not even a Tohsaka!
Swish!
In that instant, the cursed spirit closed the distance at terrifying speed, its spiked fist hurtling toward Roy with crushing force.
The punch distorted the very air around it, visible shockwaves forcing the atmosphere to recoil from the impact.
"Tch!"
Roy clicked his tongue in annoyance.
He took a measured step back, evading the initial strike while simultaneously opening an imaginary space pocket. From its depths, he drew a gleaming steel katana.
Its blade was engraved with runes—one of his hobby projects during downtime.
He'd never intended to use this piece in combat, having planned to sell it off. Yet here it was, proving unexpectedly useful.
The cursed spirit, undeterred by its missed strike, immediately swung its other fist forward.
But the spiked arm proved heavier than anticipated—its momentum carrying it off-balance into an unsteady stagger.
In that opening—
A flash of cold steel split the air like shattered mercury.
Runes flaring along its length, the indomitable blade arced toward the cursed spirit's neck.
"Ha!"
The creature's lips twisted in a sneering laugh.
It deliberately abandoned attempts to regain balance, instead throwing itself sideways—directly into the path of Roy's slash.
CRACK!
The blade severed its neck cleanly.
Yet the cursed spirit's decapitated head and body continued their trajectory, both halves crashing toward Roy's torso with identical mocking grins.
It knew.
Roy possessed techniques to harm souls.
But those required specialized weapons and preparatory rituals—impossible to deploy mid-combat unless the opponent was thoroughly subdued. Only during such openings could soul-targeting attacks be executed.
Therefore—by denying him preparation time, Roy would remain powerless against its true form!
As for that special weapon capable of piercing souls, its physical attack power was extremely weak. As long as he spared a fraction of his attention to reinforce his physical defense with cursed energy the moment it was drawn, his current constitution could completely prevent his soul from being impaled!
Facing Mahito who had split into two, Roy slightly furrowed his brows.
But he reacted swiftly, blocking the spiked fist attacks from Mahito's body with his blade while simultaneously throwing a punch aimed at Mahito's head.
For a magus, multitasking was merely basic-level mental manipulation.
"#%&@ (Help Mahito)!"
At that moment, Hanami, who had been observing from the sidelines, suddenly extended a hand.
Roy suddenly felt the ground beneath him become unstable, creating an opening in his assault.
Seizing the opportunity, Mahito dodged his attack with a swift movement, retreating several steps as his head and body recombined, revealing a face full of malice.
Taking advantage of the moment, Roy glanced at the ground beneath his feet.
The earth had somehow turned an ashen brown like tree bark and was undulating like jelly.
The instant Mahito retreated, the tree-like ground suddenly surged upward. A massive root sprouted beneath Roy, propelling him violently into the sky.
Whoosh!
A figure abruptly appeared midair.
Jogo launched himself upward with a spring-like motion, arriving at the same height as Roy, a vicious grin spreading across his face as the two volcanic craters in his palms aligned directly with the airborne Roy.
"Let's see how you block this now! Die!"
This rapid series of combined attacks caught Roy completely off guard.
His expression turned icy in an instant, a trace of ferocity flashing in his eyes.
"Don't overestimate yourselves, you small fry!"