Tokiomi Tohsaka had already been pacing outside the door for a while.
Although he was Japanese by blood, his lineage pure and unbroken, he was also the very model of a Western-trained magus. By such standards, casually stepping into another's "domain" was by no means a wise decision.
Yet, after hearing from his student, Kotomine Kirei, about the sudden movements of the "Night Raid" faction, and after learning of that strange title, the "Lord," he could no longer resist the urge to come and see for himself.
As one who understood the secrets and history of Japan's mystic side, that title carried with it a gravity that could not be ignored.
For it was tied to none other than the most influential figure of Japan's magical history—the "Peacock Lord," Sugawara no Haneaki, of the Heian era. Knowing this, how could Tokiomi possibly sit still?
And yet, even as he stood frozen outside the door, hesitation took hold of him.
As the head of the ancient Tohsaka family, long established in Fuyuki, Tokiomi always upheld strict aristocratic standards. Whether in conduct, manners, or even when visiting others, he maintained his elegance without fail.
But today, something in him was… different.
Not solely because of Sugawara's legacy. No matter how mighty the "Peacock Lord" had once been, a thousand years had passed. Unless the man himself were to walk the earth again, the shock of that name had long been blunted by time.
No, what gave Tokiomi pause were the words he overheard drifting from beyond the door.
Words he suspected were spoken deliberately for him to hear, as if the people inside had already noticed his presence.
He heard the voice of a boy.
A conversation with a girl referred to as "Lorelei"—the one destined to inherit the Barthomeloi name.
And their plan.
The so-called coronation ceremony of Barthomeloi—
And the intent to make the Holy Grail War public knowledge!
In that instant, Tokiomi almost turned to leave.
Of course he knew Barthomeloi. They were no mere family name, but the true rulers of the Mage's Association's Execution Department, administrators of the Clock Tower, sovereigns among the Twelve Lords.
The kings of magi—the monsters above monsters.
Fortunately, Tokiomi's ingrained elegance restrained him from making a rash exit.
And then came another name—"Luviaest."
That single word froze Tokiomi in place. After a moment's struggle, he finally gathered himself and knocked on the door.
Inside, Rukang merely gestured, already expecting it.
The door opened silently. Light spilled out into the hallway, revealing the dignified figure waiting outside.
Rukang rose to his feet.
"Head of the Tohsaka family. Forgive me for not greeting you sooner," he said.
…So young?
Tokiomi blinked in surprise at the handsome youth standing within. He had already guessed from the voice that the one inside was not very old, yet the reality still exceeded his expectations.
His expression of astonishment flickered and vanished. Composure restored, he remained courteous.
He opened his mouth, about to speak.
But Rukang cut him off. "I believe you misspoke, Head of the Tohsaka family."
Misspoke? Tokiomi faltered.
"Your self-introduction is incomplete," Rukang smiled. "You are not merely the head of the Tohsaka household.
"You are also the descendant of the 'abandoned disciples' of the Sugawara school.
"The inheritor of the Far East's earliest esoteric faith.
"And one of Luviaest's unacknowledged pupils."
Tokiomi froze.
He stared at the boy, whose smile carried an uncanny familiarity, and in his mind flashed a thunderous revelation.
"You are…"
"I am the descendant of the 'Peacock Lord,' the current 'Lord' of the Sugawara school.
"The heir of 'Victor the Hierophant,' the 'Sacred Saint'—the founder of the mystic faith.
"The scion of Luviaest.
"And the present Headmaster of Academy City."
A radiance of spirit erupted, divine flesh blazing with true ether, thoughts blooming into reality with but a breath.
Threefold cycle, quintuple linkage.
Multiple marks of the arcane revealed themselves at once.
Nothing could rival the overwhelming spectacle before Tokiomi's eyes.
The buffs were stacked to their limit.
Rukang smiled faintly. Indeed, had his painstaking lineage and countless lifetimes of legacy not all been for this very moment? To expand his influence upon the present age—whether in mystery or in the mundane, as an individual or as a power—this was the apex.
This was the true meaning of a "family simulation."
A house, built from one man alone.
Gazing at Tokiomi, Rukang could not help but think: the Tohsaka line, one of his primary targets, had indeed always existed under his shadow.
And the reason was simple.
The Holy Grail War was established by three founding families.
The Einzberns, heirs to the Third Magic, provided the principle of soul materialization.
The Matou family devised the method to summon and bind Heroic Spirits as Servants.
And the Tohsakas, managers of Fuyuki's leyline, provided the mana to sustain the ritual.
Together, their aim was to use the Greater Grail to reach the Root—the ultimate pursuit of all modern magi.
But the Einzbern family was elusive, hard to track.
The Matous were relatively recent, their history shallow.
It was the Tohsakas—long-established, rooted in Fuyuki—who were the ideal key to influence the Grail War.
Even if their lineage was not truly ancient, their role as native Japanese and their ties to the Church made them highly susceptible to manipulation.
From Luviaest, to Victor, to the Peacock Lord Sugawara—
Every connection had been placed by design.
Some achieved in life, others only fulfilled after death. But all had been part of the same plan.
Indeed, had Rukang—when living as Luviaest—not failed to acquire the Tohsaka leyline land from Tokiomi's grandfather, all this might not have been necessary.
But since the land was indispensable for the Grail War, of course the Tohsakas never sold it.
Now, Tokiomi's shock only deepened.
At first, he had assumed this youth's ties extended only to the Peacock Lord. Adding Luviaest had been a shock, but still barely acceptable.
But Victor the Sacred Saint?
The convergence of all three? That was beyond comprehension.
The Tohsaka line had lived forever under this shadow.
Rukang looked calmly upon the stunned magus. "Well then… what say you?"
Tokiomi fell silent.
Then let out a slow breath.
Bowing low, he spoke.
"You are correct. The Tohsaka family shall forever act in accordance with your will."
If it were only the Peacock Lord, Tokiomi would have paid respects, offered courtesy, even voiced earnest caution. But no more.
Add Luviaest and Victor the Saint into the mix, and there was nothing left to deliberate.
There was only one path.
To bow. And to obey.
For the Tohsakas, only the Jewel Waver surpassed this youth in weight of legacy.
…
"Hey, Aoko—look at this doll! Doesn't it look just like you?"
On Fuyuki's bustling streets, Aoko pulled at her sister, her voice loud and lively.
But the Black Witch, Kuonji Alice, was lost in thought.
"Oi, Aoko!" Aoko frowned.
"…What is it?" Alice blinked back to reality, her tone flat.
"What is it?! You don't realize you've been spacing out more and more lately?" Aoko huffed.
"Especially when that Rukang guy isn't around—"
"…Mm."
"'Mm'?! That's all you've got?!" Aoko nearly tore her hair out, but then curiosity struck.
"So… what exactly is your relationship with him?"
Relationship? Of course—"best friends."
Alice opened her mouth to answer. Yet she failed to notice how her every thought lately was filled with that boy's image, hardly the mark of simple friendship.
Ever since experiencing the hollow silence of his absence, she found his presence lingering in her mind whenever he was away.
That was why she followed along this time.
Even now, after only a short parting, the thought of him would not leave.
But the Witch of Fairy Tales did not understand these feelings.
She thought: is this what "best friends" are supposed to be?
She didn't dislike it.
In fact, she found herself clinging to his words, ready to answer accordingly—
Until she suddenly froze.
Her deep eyes sharpened, sensing something unseen.
"…What is it?" Aoko asked, startled.
"The stench of filth," Alice replied.
"…Disgusting."
"Like insects."
"Insects? Where—?" Aoko sniffed around but caught nothing.
Alice shook her head silently, but her frown said it all.
She hated it.
Hated it with every fiber of her being.
…
"So, I've been discovered?"
A voice echoed in the darkness of an underground nest.
A withered old man, more corpse than human, opened glowing green eyes, his tone chilling.
He was Zouken Matou, head of the third of the Three Families.
Master of insects, standing amidst his swarm, he muttered in the depths of the Matou worm pit.