Step by step, they ascended the stone stairway until they reached the top of the city wall.
The moment her gaze fell upon the world outside, Kasumigaoka Utaha instinctively held her breath.
When she had been escorted into the city earlier, her mind had been too clouded with fear and confusion to notice her surroundings. Only now, standing upon the walls, did this world reveal even a fragment of its true face.
But even that fragment was horrifying beyond words.
Beyond the walls of Fuyuki stretched an endless wasteland of charred earth.
Everything within sight looked as if it had been seared by an all-consuming fire. The land was nothing but scorched black soil—no trace of grass, no hint of trees, no speck of green. Even the sky itself was a murky, polluted canvas, stripped of all color, leaving behind only a monotone bleakness.
This land was dead.
Barren. Forsaken.
It radiated despair.
As she gazed at that ruinous expanse, Utaha felt her chest tighten, as though a boulder had been dropped onto her lungs. Each breath carried the taste of ash and fire, burning her throat and making her heart pound uncomfortably.
"Don't keep staring."
Roy noticed the uneven rhythm of her breathing. Raising a hand, he gently shielded her eyes with his palm.
"This land has been cursed. Even looking at it too long can make the body falter. Spend too much time exposed out there, and the risk isn't just physical—you could suffer mental collapse. To put it simply: madness."
Utaha shivered uncontrollably.
If that was true, then when the patrols had dragged the refugees back into the city, they really had saved their lives.
"But that isn't even the greatest danger," Roy continued.
Once she steadied herself, he lowered his hand and gestured outward, pointing toward the horizon.
"Look there."
Utaha followed his finger.
From the distant skyline, a series of guttural roars rose up. Enormous, twisted beasts emerged, their warped bodies thundering across the blackened earth as they barreled toward the walls. Each pounding step made the very ground tremble in protest.
"Is the wall… safe?"
The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
Those beasts weren't as large as elephants, but they dwarfed lions and tigers in both mass and ferocity. If several struck the wall at once, could mere stone truly hold them back?
"It's fine," Roy replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, utterly calm. "This wall has stood for nearly a decade. Beasts of that level can't breach it."
His composure soothed her panic somewhat. The steady confidence in his tone lent her a fragile but precious sense of safety.
Her eyes flicked back to the charging creatures.
So these were the monsters?
Before long, they reached the base of the wall. But just as they prepared to hurl themselves forward, the entire structure rumbled. Cannon fire roared to life, and blasts of light streaked outward. In an instant, the beasts were thrown to the ground in a spray of dirt and blood.
"The wilderness is forbidden to humans," Roy said evenly. "Few dare to live beyond the walls. Beasts like these are bad enough, but if you encounter demons, cursed spirits… or worse, corrupted Servants—that's when the real trouble begins."
As he spoke, he raised his hand. His fingertip traced luminous symbols through the air—strange characters that shimmered with unnatural radiance.
Buzz.
Suddenly, fire erupted from the glowing script, swelling into a wave of searing flames that swept down upon the beasts below. Their roars turned shrill, agonized, before the inferno consumed them entirely and left them thrashing in death.
"That's why, Utaha, someone like you must never set foot outside these walls without a magus like me by your side. No matter what anyone tells you, do not go out there alone."
"Yes… I understand."
Utaha stared at the blaze devouring the monsters, transfixed.
That was real.
Real magic.
Not science, not technology—just words carved into the air, and suddenly there was fire, more powerful than any weapon she could imagine.
"Magus-sama?"
"Was that… magic just now?"
The commotion had drawn the attention of the patrol stationed atop the wall. The squad leader himself rushed over, bowing deeply before Roy, his face filled with reverent awe.
"Forgive me, sir. That display just now—it was magnificent."
"I was only observing," Roy said lightly. "Carry on with your duties."
"Yes, at once!"
The commander's voice boomed, brimming with respect.
Even so, the soldiers' eyes lingered on Roy. The presence of a magus had stolen their focus completely, their discipline weakened by fascination.
Roy, noticing this, simply led Utaha away from the wall so as not to disrupt their work further.
"Roy-sama," Utaha said cautiously as they descended the steps, "earlier… you mentioned the wall has stood for nearly ten years?"
Her voice wavered with both hesitation and growing courage. After their brief exchange, she felt she was beginning to understand him better—he seemed approachable, not the type to lash out over small questions.
"What about before that? Ten years ago… was there no wall? Were there other defenses instead?"
"You're perceptive."
Roy's lips curved faintly, his tone carrying a note of approval.
"Ten years ago, there were no walls. Because ten years ago, the world wasn't like this at all."
Utaha blinked in surprise, hanging on his words.
"In 1994, the world was ordinary. Likely much the same as the one you came from. Whatever differences existed, they fell within the bounds of parallel possibility. Everything changed that year."
He paused, his eyes reflecting the burnt horizon.
"That year, without warning, a massive curse erupted. It swept across the globe in a matter of days. For an entire year, the world burned. When the fires finally died… the earth looked like this."
"Ashes where cities once stood. A population cut down to less than one percent of what it had been. Governments collapsed, the wilds became uninhabitable. The survivors built a handful of base cities, raised towering walls, and cloaked them with the mystery of magic. Since then, humanity has cowered inside, clinging to survival."
"For Japan—what you call 'Nihon'—the population now is under a million. They are scattered across four surviving base cities. And Fuyuki… Fuyuki is one of them."
As they stepped into the main district, the stone-paved streets stretched out beneath the ashen sky. Roy gazed at the blackened earth, the poisoned sea, and the suffocating horizon with quiet heaviness in his chest.
He knew the Nasuverse. He had studied its worlds, its laws.
But this… this was no Nasuverse he had ever known.
What kind of warped, corrupted world was this supposed to be?
This isn't the Type-Moon I know at all.
Following Roy's lead, the two of them eventually arrived at his home.
It was a traditional Japanese-style estate, sprawling and elegant. The courtyard was spacious, with a main hall, master's quarters, and several side rooms—more than enough to house a dozen people. A warehouse stood in the corner of the front garden, completing the picture of wealth.
Even in the old days, when Fuyuki was still a normal city, this would have been the residence of a landowner, a man of stature and privilege. Now, in the ruined present, it was almost palatial.
As they passed through the front gate, Utaha's eyes flicked toward the nameplate.
White wood, clean and unadorned.
Upon it, two neatly painted kanji: Aozaki.