Amidst the ice-bound and snow-covered wilderness, she endured the ravaging winter bestowed by Kanjuro.
Piercing ice crystals merged with burning breath; a cutting pain intertwined with a certain suddenly ignited, raw sensation, making her consciousness gradually fade, until she could no longer distinguish whether this all-encompassing shuddering was the punishment of purgatory or the last moment of inverted satisfaction before falling.
After an unknown amount of time, all the turbulence finally settled.
Those cold restraints wrapping around her quietly receded like a tide.
The dancing shadows on Kanjuro also completely vanished; that Spear of Destiny had been fully withdrawn.
Irisviel fell weakly to the ground. With trembling hands, she pulled off the black blindfold.
The blinding light made her squint. She saw a strange, handsome man standing before her, radiating a chilling aura.
He was looking down at her with a cold and possessive gaze.
"Who... who are you?" Her voice was weak and hoarse.
Hearing this, a cruel arc curled at the corner of Kanjuro's mouth, and his cold voice was like the wind blowing through icicles: "What? We just spent such an 'unforgettable' night together, and you've already... forgotten your man?"
"Huh?" Irisviel opened her pure eyes wide, looking at Kanjuro in confusion.
She had always held beautiful illusions about this world, and now, those illusions were being torn apart by Kanjuro's own hands. "Why did you do this to me?" she asked, her face covered in tears, full of confusion and grievance.
"Are you crying?" Kanjuro reached out, his fingertip gently wiping away the tear tracks on her cheek. "This is one of the most authentic human emotions. Even though you're just a vessel for the Holy Grail, a mere homunculus, you possess such rich emotions... shouldn't you thank me?"
"I... I won't thank you!" Irisviel shook her head quickly, her long silver hair swaying with the movement.
"Go back and tell Emiya Kiritsugu," Kanjuro waved his hand nonchalantly, "tell him you were 'bullied' by a strange man today."
"You..." Irisviel bit her lip, then nodded as if she had found something to rely on. "Yes, I'll tell Kiritsugu and have him teach you a good lesson!" Her face flushed slightly. After speaking, she turned and ran away, her skirt leaving a hurried trail in the snow.
Kanjuro stood where he was, his eyes as deep as a demon's, watching her retreating back, with a near-joyful dark light swirling in the depths of his gaze.
He found himself increasingly addicted to this game of playing with people's hearts—twisting human nature, peering at the edge of others' collapse; this sense of control gave him immense satisfaction.
"Unconsciously, I'm becoming more and more like an Old God." He looked down at the looming, slightly wriggling dark shadows by his side, a malicious smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Irisviel ran all the way back to the castle.
Although her clothes were intact, her expression was clearly uneasy. She walked quickly toward the workshop. The moment she pushed open the door, she saw Emiya Kiritsugu looking down, adjusting a strangely shaped firearm. He had a cigarette in his mouth, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Kiritsugu, something happened." Irisviel panted, her cheeks flushed from running and emotion.
In her heart, Kiritsugu was the only person she could trust and rely on.
"What's wrong? Did you encounter something interesting again today?" Emiya Kiritsugu didn't even look up, his tone perfunctory.
"Someone bullied me." She raised her voice, trying to get his attention.
"Hmm?" Emiya Kiritsugu shook his head, still not looking at her. "That's impossible. Einzbern is protected by a barrier. Without Hayde's permission, outsiders can't get in at all."
Kanjuro's sinister face appeared before Irisviel's eyes, and her voice couldn't help but carry a sob: "But I really was bullied! Kiritsugu, please listen to me, okay?"
"I'm very busy and very tired." Emiya Kiritsugu rubbed his temples and finally glanced at her. He noticed the clothing on her shoulder was a bit disheveled, revealing a small patch of fair skin, and he couldn't help but sigh. "Hayde made you do this, didn't he? About... having a child with you, I need time to consider it."
"Kiritsugu!! I'm not talking about that!" Irisviel stomped her foot in frustration. "I'm saying... my body was defiled! Do you understand?"
"..." Emiya Kiritsugu was silent for a moment and then shook his head. "That joke isn't funny."
Tears instantly welled up in Irisviel's eyes.
She didn't understand why the person she trusted most wouldn't believe her. Heartbroken, she turned and ran away, leaving him with only a trembling back.
Dejected, she found her grandfather Hayde. The old man was buried in a thick tome of magecraft. Seeing her enter, he slowly looked up: "What's the matter?"
Irisviel sobbed as she recounted her encounter.
Hayde took her wrist and checked her pulse. There was no concern on his face, only a heavy thoughtfulness.
"It's a strange Black Magic aura..." he murmured, an undetectable hint of excitement flashing in his eyes. "I didn't expect someone who has mastered such Black Magic to come looking for you... this is wonderful."
"Wonderful?" Irisviel looked at her grandfather in disbelief.
"If he appears again, do not refuse him; interact with him more." Hayde's voice was almost gentle. "I can't imagine what kind of outstanding 'work' the offspring born from your union with him would be."
"No!" Irisviel cried out in despair.
Her mind might only be like that of a ten-year-old child, but that didn't mean she understood nothing. At this moment, her carefree world completely collapsed; adult darkness and exploitation submerged her like ice water. With no one to understand or listen, she could only drag her heavy steps back to her bedroom and curl up in endless despair.
In the dead of night, Irisviel lay alone in bed, tears soaking her pillow.
Suddenly, viscous black shadows seeped from the wall, and several tentacle-like shadows spread quietly. A figure condensed from the darkness—Kanjuro appeared again, overpowering her without a word. Her clothes turned to nothingness under the entanglement of the shadows.
She struggled with all her might, her eyes filled with terror and despair.
Just as Kanjuro was about to go further, a pure and intense holy aura suddenly erupted in the room, trying to disperse the pervading darkness like the first light of dawn.
Kanjuro snapped his head around to look at the source of the holy light—in the corner of the wall, a magnificent scabbard lay quietly, with a soft but firm light flowing around it. At this moment, as if awakened, it turned into a streak of light and attacked him, intending to protect Irisviel.
"Heh." Kanjuro sneered. With a wave of his hand, he channeled the power of the Gospel of Matthew. Shadows surged, quickly condensing into a replica scabbard of a similar shape but wrapped in ominous black mist.
One light and one dark, the two scabbards collided violently in the air!
Holy light and Black Magic clashed fiercely, erupting with intense energy fluctuations. Eventually, the two forces canceled each other out and dissipated simultaneously.
Kanjuro bent down and picked up the holy scabbard that had fallen to the ground. His fingertips felt the warm and powerful protective force contained within. He examined the exquisite patterns on the scabbard, a hint of realization and greed flashing in his eyes.
"avalon..." he whispered, the corners of his mouth curling into a confident arc. "King Arthur's legendary lost scabbard, the Ever-Distant Utopia. I didn't expect it to be here protecting a 'vessel' like you."
He turned to look at Irisviel, who was tightly bound to the wall by shadow tentacles, her eyes brimming with tears. The avalon in his hand seemed like a newly acquired trophy, and also like a key that was about to unlock a deeper fall.
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