The moment Roy's eyes opened again, the crimson glow vanished from his pupils.
His gaze turned pitch black, as deep and endless as a void. Around his irises, chains of mysterious runes coiled and rotated without end, never ceasing, never slowing. From those eyes radiated a brilliance as dazzling as gemstones, an otherworldly light that pierced the dark.
The wards covering Mount Enzō were countless and varied. At a glance, Roy could see traces of European systems, Middle Eastern sigils, American runes, and even the traditional onmyōdō barriers of Japan itself.
Any other intruder, upon touching these layers, would have triggered a chorus of alarms, unleashing a tidal wave of unstoppable magical counterattacks. Even now, dim lantern lights flickered in the distance—proof that patrol magi were guarding the site, even at this hour.
The entire mountain was coiled in layer after layer of defense, more like a dragon's lair than a workshop. Truly, the Mage's Association had spared no effort to keep intruders away.
But Roy walked forward without the faintest hesitation.
He made no attempt to hide himself, no effort to sneak or dodge. He simply strode up to the barrier and touched it openly.
Normally, that would have triggered a barrage of warnings and violent countermeasures. But when Roy's hand pressed against it, the ward reacted with… nothing.
His body slipped inside as effortlessly as a raindrop falling into the sea.
The ward remained whole, undisturbed, functioning as though no intruder had passed through at all. It was as if Roy himself did not exist.
Not a single trap was triggered. Not a single alarm sounded. Layer after layer of wards proved meaningless before him.
Only after passing through thirteen layers of defense did Roy finally set foot upon Mount Enzō itself.
"…What a stench of curses."
The mountain was just like the outside world—reduced to scorched wasteland.
The soil was choked with curses, rooted deep into the ground like weeds. Without magi to cleanse and uproot them, no human could live here. Not even crops could grow.
But here, within the mountain, the density of curses was far beyond anything in the wilderness. It was suffocating.
Ordinary curses in the wild only made people feel unwell, causing mental instability if one lingered too long. Unless attacked by beasts, you wouldn't necessarily die.
But here, the curses had condensed to a level where ordinary humans could not even look. To gaze upon them was to invite disaster. The black malice would seep into the mind, crawling like maggots into the brain, tainting spirit and soul alike. A normal human would collapse instantly, fainting into madness.
Only a magus with powerful mental defenses could even step near this place.
"No wonder," Roy murmured with a sneer, "after all, the root of the Cataclysm ten years ago—the flood of curses that swallowed the world—lies here."
Instead of climbing the main staircase, he circled around to the rear of the mountain, weaving through the scorched ruins until he came to a cavern. The opening yawned wide, black and fathomless, exhaling waves of malice.
It felt as though something buried deep within was the very source of all evil in the world—the wellspring of every curse and every hateful thought.
The cavern's mouth, too, was covered by wards.
Roy's Mystic Eyes gleamed again, their brilliance gemstone-like, runes of black and white circling like yin and yang, uniting contradiction into one radiant harmony. With their power, he slipped inside as if no barrier existed at all.
Beyond the entrance stretched a subterranean cavern that tunneled beneath Mount Enzō. Jagged stalactites bristled from the ceiling, sharp and menacing. And the deeper Roy went, the thicker the curses became.
By the time he neared the lowest chamber, the curses had solidified. The intangible miasma condensed into black smog, stripping away all visibility and cloaking everything in suffocating darkness.
Malice saturated the air. It hammered the spirit relentlessly, bombarding him with hateful voices.
In the mist, shapes flickered. They promised him supreme power, dominion over all, the embrace of peerless beauty, or the ecstasy of unrestrained slaughter. At the same time, they cursed him with the voices of judgment, accusing him of murder, rape, theft—sins piled upon sins, pressing him toward despair and self-destruction.
For an instant, it felt real. His mind trembled with the weight of boundless desire and crushing guilt, threatening to drown him in a sea of madness.
"Boring."
Roy's voice cut through the fog like a blade. He strode forward, deaf to temptation, disdain in every step.
At last, he reached the heart of the cavern.
A vast hollow chamber opened before him.
Here, the miasma cleared, revealing everything in stark clarity.
At the center of the hollow, like the mouth of a volcano, sprawled an immense magic circle. Its surface blazed alternately with crimson light like fresh blood and abyssal blackness that devoured all radiance. The cycle repeated endlessly, an overwhelming spectacle of mystery and dread.
The array was impossibly intricate, engraved with endless geometric patterns and ancient runes. At its core stood a colossal statue of a woman, silent and unmoving.
Roy gazed up, momentarily awed despite himself.
Even with his knowledge of magecraft, the formation was beyond comprehension. Its craftsmanship surpassed anything humanity could achieve in the present era.
"…As expected of a remnant of the Third Magic," he said quietly. But his flat tone stripped the words of any reverence.
At that moment, his eyes shone once more, erupting with demonic brilliance.
Buzz.
The titanic array trembled faintly.
"Connection established. Empathic synchronization complete. Experience transfer stable. Configuration initializing. Flow adjustments confirmed…"
Behind his mask, Roy smiled, fearless as the process unfolded flawlessly.
He thrust out his hand.
"—I declare!"
Pain seared across the back of his hand, burning like fire. Scarlet sigils carved themselves into his skin, spreading like wings unfurling.
The Command Seals.
Three crimson strokes blazed upon his hand, radiant and undeniable.
"My body shall be under your command.My fate shall be bound to your blade.If you heed the call of the Holy Grail, obey this will, follow this truth, then answer me.
Here I vow:I am the one who embodies all good in the world.I am the one who bears all evil of the world.
You, clad in the three great words of power, come forth from the wheel of restraint—guardian of the Balance!"
Light burst from the magic circle, so blinding it threatened to consume his vision.
Roy narrowed his eyes, refusing to blink, forcing his will to seize control of the Great Grail's ritual.
The flood of prana surged, condensing into a shape, a figure emerging from the torrent of power.
A voice rang out.
"Servant Saber, answering your summons. Are you my Master?"