Bzzzt
The sound of a broken system crackled in his head.
Arthur opened his eyes after what felt like centuries. His gaze swept the chamber around him, vast, suffocating, Dark. A throne room, he sat upon its throne.
The system's voice sounded.
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(Main Quest) [Past the Wall of Fog to the Lands Beyond the Veil] (Completed)
"A bounded field has been found. By the unrelenting efforts of Sir Hohenheim and Sir Avicebron, they tore open a small rift. The decision of how to proceed now falls to you, leader."
Rewards: Two new B-rank Skills + Two chosen Skill Upgrades + One chosen Relic
New Skills unlocked:
[Charisma] (B)
[Mana Burst (Void/Purification)] (B)
Do you wish to use the skill upgrades on these skills?
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Arthur studied the panel. The only skills available for upgrade were his Type-Moon ones, none of his blessings, or his Primordiality, all of them grayed out. And for this trial it was combat skills or nothing.
He weighed his choices:
Charisma: a timeless cornerstone. At rank B, it's a great support type skill but in combat not so much. By association any other support skill
Mana Burst: raw power, though his magic circuits were pitiful. Yet even a trickle amplified by mana burst was terrifying.
And so, he made his choice.
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[Charisma B]
The natural talent to command an army, Increases the ability of allies on the battlefield. At this rank, it is sufficient to lead a nation.
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Skill upgraded…!
[Mana Burst (Void/Purification)] (A):
"The inversion of dawn…light hollowed into silence."
Effect:
Greatly augments Strength, Endurance, and Agility. Each movement leaves dim afterimages, fragments of light and shadow fading like erased memory.
Attacks inflict purification damage, unraveling curses, enchantments, and malignant essences into nothing, stripped of the right to exist.
Provides strong resistance to corruption, possession, and external madness.
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Arthur dismissed the menu and rose from the throne.
The chamber was immense, a cathedral of stone. Pale arches curved like the ribs of some colossal leviathan, marble polished to a cold sheen. Their weight pressed down in silent grandeur. The floor was black stone, so smooth it mirrored the cold lanterns lining the hall, each flame steady and pale. Shadows clung to the edges, thick and unmoving, as though even darkness itself feared trespass.
At the center, a throne of white marble sat upon a raised platform. Regal, Severe, and Unyielding, Not a seat of kingship but a monument, a grave marker, a single shaft of light fell from above, isolating the throne in harsh brilliance while the rest drowned in twilight.
The air pressed heavy, Reverent. Not a sanctuary, but a tomb.
Arthur frowned. "What is this place? This… this can't be mine. I'd never choose a throne like this. It feels more like a mausoleum than a hall. Hey, system! Where the hell am I?!"
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Current Location: Throne of Heroes (Valhalla)
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"The Throne…?"
Shouldn't he be facing the next trial? Why here? And this throne, was it his place among the heroes?
His hands trembled. His body here was that of a boy, barely fifteen, yet his soul felt eroded, millenniums heavy. Was this the end? The Throne existed outside time; perhaps this was him, aged beyond reckoning. Yet something was wrong, deeply wrong.
Questions piled in his mind, but then…
A voice.
Distant, rising, unmistakable. a summoning chant.
Arthur followed. The sound drew him toward the doors. The closer he came, the louder the invocation, resonating with his very core. He pushed the doors open…
A blinding white light consumed him.
Ding~
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Trial Exclusive Skill gained!
[Madness Enhancement: EX]
Summoned in servant Class: Berserker
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"Wait…WHAT?!" Arthur's voice cracked in sheer disbelief.
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"I assume you've memorized the summoning spell correctly?"
Zouken Matou's voice came like a scratching at the edges of the dark. Kariya nodded, swallowed, and let the silence answer for him.
The chamber smelled of rot and cold damp, green darkness like the sea's deep. It was the warm storage beneath the Matou estate, hidden in the hill that cradled the small mountain town. Lantern-light here bent away as if to turn away from what was happening.
"Very well. But I'm going to add two extra lines to the basic chant."
"What do you mean?"
Zouken's smile was a slow, disgusting thing that made something uncomfortable in Ka\zriya's chest.
"Oh, it's simple, Kariya. Your training was short. Your rank as a magus is lower than the other Masters the Grail called. That will lower the Servant's base parameters. We must boost the Servant's parameters; alter the summoning towards a class we can work with." He spoke in a fake kind tone like one reciting a script it was fake beyond all measure. They changed the servant's class by altering the words.
"Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill." Kariya said, with a pained voice. "Repeat five times. But when each is filled, destroy it."
"For the elements silver and iron, the foundation stone and the Archduke of Pacts, and for my Great Master, Schweinorg. Raise a wall against the wind and close the gates of four directions. Come forth from the crown and follow the forked road leading to the Kingdom."
"Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning!"
"I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world. That I shall defeat all evil in the world."
Kariya added the altering line, an alien ingredient that would strip a Heroic Spirit of reason and bend it to frenzy. "Then let thine eyes be clouded with the fog of turmoil and chaos, thou who art trapped in a cage of madness, and I, the summoner, who holds thine chains…"
He was different from other magi; his Magic Circuits were worms living inside him like parasites. Each word seared his body; each syllable was like a cut to his body, Muscles spasmed. Capillaries burst. Blood beaded and trickled; sanguine tears welled in his intact eye and slid down his cheek. He did not flinch. He breathed in steadying himself against the pain to continue chanting.
"Seventh heaven, clad in the great words of power, come forth from the circle of binding, Guardian of Scales!"
The circle flared, but not with the bright gold typical of heroic spirits. It flared with a void that devoured air. Light bent inward, as if recoiling from what was being born.
A figure stretched his hand out of the void tearing it apart as he moved forward: afterimages trailing like torn ghosts of shadow and dim silver. Battered armor hugged a broad frame; a worn white cape flowed behind him like the banner of a forgotten triumph. Frayed, weathered, it still carried the weight of regality. On his head sat a cracked crown, once a diadem, now fractured, whispering of a ruined kingdom and a monarch left to wither.
On His face was a porcelain mask: one half laughing, the other frowning. Even fractured, it wore authority, fool and king braided into something eternal and disquieting.
Kariya gasped, blood and pain in his throat, trying to swallow both surprise and dread. For the first time, Zouken's smile faltered; the worm-ridden husk drew back from a presence that felt like nothingness made flesh.
Then the silence broke. A voice, soft and cryptic, sounded like a soft breeze broken by a ringing bell.
"I ask you… are you worthy to be my Master? Oh fallen limerent, bound in chains of rot and regret. Will you crawl further into the pit of ruin, or do you seek a dawn that never was? No matter. The scales must tilt, and so I am here, yet something shall be done first. [Arcus Gaiae: disrumpere]."
He raised a cane whose golden head was cracked like the crown. A single speck of light fell and touched Zouken's shadow. In an instant the ancient magus's body seemed to be denied existence, disintegrated into nothingness.
"…Oh?" Arthur tilted his head, voice tilting between mockery and truth. The Laughing eye flickered.
"This insect clings harder than most. Still, this field woven by Arcus Gaiae shall banish him; no pest shall crawl into this den for ten years. A small mercy, Master. Consider it… my housewarming gift."
The cane tapped the stone. The mask's Weeping eye dimly burned as it regarded Kariya's writhing figure. Arthur reached out and touched him. Kariya inhaled sharply; the worms that had gnawed his flesh vanished on contact, leaving only circuits scarred and twisted but fixed enough to function beneath his skin.
"…A wreck of a Master," Arthur murmured, The Laughing eye glowed, voice light and sharp filled with mockery. "Yet broken tools sometimes strike truer. Now rise, or keep groveling in this worm-bin. I was once both king and fool now dragged into this farce of a war. At least stand, lest my crown be insulted by such company."
Kariya's voice cracked.
"I… I'll stand."
Arthur extended a hand, regal and oddly solicitous. The cape stirred; the Weeping eye softened its glow almost imperceptibly.
"Good. You answered without turning away. That means you meant it. Now walk, Kariya Matou. This farce requires fools and kings alike… and I am both."
He inclined his head, then added, as he moved towards the door,
"Yet it seems someone else needs aid in this fallen abode."
"Uhm… right, what is your name, Your Majesty?" Kariya asked as he followed him.
Arthur stilled. His hand brushed the cracks of his cane. For a heartbeat, both eyes ignited, the Laughing with cruel brightness, the Weeping with mournful weight. His voice fractured into a double echo: sarcasm and grief tearing together.
"My name… it once carried weight, a crown that pressed down until bone gave way. King, tyrant, savior, each word a chain, each letter carved into my flesh."
Then the Laughing eye burst alight, cruel and sing-song.
"ah, but what a comedy, Master! All those titles, and what did they buy me? A throne of rot! A kingdom of graves! Even the worms know the punchline better than I do!"
Both eyes flared, mask split wide by light. His voice fractured, two tones clawing over each other.
"I was the Fool who thought he could be King, no, the King who was only ever a Fool! Which joke was truer, I wonder? Which crown cut deeper? a crown of flowers, A crown of iron or a crown of thorns?"
The glow faltered. Only the Weeping eye lingered dim.
"…I am just a forgotten Fool with a good memory. No need for anyone to remember my name."
"…I understand."
The rest of the way was walked in silence.
When they reached the room, Kariya finally realized who Arthur meant.
"Wait…! What do you want to do to Sakura?"
"She is like you, infested with worms. She needs help before it becomes untreatable." His mask remained dark now, calm and steady.
As he entered the room, he saw a child sleeping on the bed. Arthur glanced back at Kariya.
"Bring me two long threads, Master," he said, calm, each word stretching the air.
Even though he did not understand why his body obeyed, Kariya left the room to fetch them.
Arthur knelt beside Sakura. His cane hovered just above her head, cracks in its golden tip catching the light. The Weeping eye flickered faintly, as if seeing her pain.
"Her body… it suffers beyond measure," he murmured. "Mana Burst… Arcus Gaiae… together, they shall sever what festers unseen."
He placed the tip of the cane lightly on her forehead. The air hummed, twisting slightly, as if reality bent towards the child. Streams of his Mana Burst flowed from him into Arcus Gaiae, converging on the worms.
Sakura stirred, slowly opening her empty eyes.
"Sleep, child," Arthur whispered. His mask dim. "All that gnaws and poisons shall vanish. You shall awaken to a dawn untainted, unclaimed by shadow or rot."
Pain fled from her body. Her muscles relaxed, her heartbeat steadied. She tried to stay awake, to remember the figure with the mask and the red eye. Most would feel fear in the dark but not her. She felt safe, safer than she had ever been. She felt it, he would not lie. He would save her. He was her savior, her hero, even if he did not look the part.
Yet in the end Sleep finally claimed her.
After the worms were gone, Arthur rose and stood by the door, silent, still as silence itself.
A minute or two later, Kariya returned, holding the two threads.
"Here, Your Majesty… may I ask, how is Sakura?"
Normally he would not have trusted anyone near her, yet Arthur's presence inspired faith he could not explain.
"She rests," Arthur said, calm, each syllable deliberate, measured. "The gnawing has been denied. Corruption expelled. She is tethered to waking unmarred. [Arcus Gaiae: disrumpere]."
He took the threads, breaking small shards from his cane, shaping them into necklaces with ritualistic movements.
"Two strands, yet one path. One shall guard the vessel… the other, the warden. The worms that gnaw the marrow shall be denied breath, denied shape, denied name."
"This one… is yours. The other… for the child when she awakens. Let it shield and protect, a bounded field against creeping infestation. It shall hold, years bending around it, even without arrangement like the other. Let it endure… even as shadows gnash beyond this house."
Kariya hesitated.
"Shouldn't your Noble Phantasm vanish when you go back…?"
Arthur said with his mask still dim
"No. It is a mystic code, bound to the pulse of your soul. Your Magic Circuits shall sustain it… eight years, perhaps more. I will step beyond this door for now."
He stepped out of the room, fading into spirit form.
Kariya remained, holding the necklaces, watching the child sleep. The room was quiet, yet heavy.
"..."