The night was deep, and the Matou Mansion was like a crouching giant beast, permeated with stale magical power and a gloomy atmosphere.
Kanjuro and Jeanne d'Arc, like two incorporeal ghosts, silently slipped into this ancient building.
Kanjuro's goal was clear; he first arrived at the guest room where Sakura was resting like a specter.
Pushing open the door, by the faint moonlight filtering through the window, he saw the small figure curled up on the bed, tightly clutching the quilt, her jet-black hair scattered on the pillow, her sleeping face tranquil.
Her pink lips moved slightly, as if murmuring in her sleep; one could faintly hear the blurred syllables of "...Uncle Kanjuro..." That defenseless, completely trusting appearance was indeed pitiable.
However, Kanjuro's eyes remained a cold abyss, without the slightest emotion, only a scrutiny as if looking at a possession.
He watched silently for a few seconds, then turned without hesitation, leading Jeanne d'Arc like a shadow toward the depths of the Mansion—Matou Zouken's room.
That old Magician who had lived for several centuries, relying on Crest Worms to prolong his life, was currently lying on his worm-eaten bed like a shriveled corpse. The erosion of time and the distortion of the magical path had long since caused him to lose a normal human form and sleep.
Suddenly, his sunken eye sockets snapped open, and his cloudy eyeballs rolled violently! An extreme fear, originating from the instinct of the soul as if facing a natural enemy, instantly seized him!
He felt it! Two incredibly powerful, incredibly evil auras, completely different from any magical power he knew, were like cold blades already pressed against his neck!
He wanted to scream, he wanted to struggle, he wanted to activate all the defensive magecraft in the room—
But it was all too late.
Time, at this moment, seemed to be forcibly paused by an invisible giant hand. Floating dust froze in the air, the swaying branches outside the window were fixed into silhouettes, and even the exclamation about to escape Matou Zouken's mouth was frozen in his shriveled throat.
A familiar pressure, carrying the aura of the endless abyss, descended.
The figure of the Demon Sister Chiyo, accompanied by a faint, seemingly soul-beguiling chuckle, was elegantly outlined in the frozen air.
She still maintained that perfect posture with inhuman beauty, looking at Kanjuro with appreciation, her eyes filled with undisguised approval and... an almost pathological infatuation.
"Mr. Kanjuro~" Her voice echoed directly in the stagnant space, with a sweetness that made one's bones go soft.
"You're performing better and better~ To actually complete another...'splendid' work. Using that woman to personally bury her beloved, and then completely twisting her heart into a shape that belongs only to you... This pure malice, this precise toying with human nature, it really makes... one's heart race."
Kanjuro looked at her expressionlessly, his tone impatient: "I'm not here to listen to your nonsense."
Chiyo didn't mind his coldness; instead, she walked forward gracefully like a poisonous vine winding around a tree, stretching out her arms to hug Kanjuro tightly, pressing her perfect cheek against his cold chest.
"Lord Ye Xiao" Her voice carried an infatuated tremor, "I really... like your bone-deep perversion more and more Please, you must accept this gift~"
She tilted her head up and, undeniably, pressed her red lips onto Kanjuro's.
There was no warmth, no desire, only a cold and massive stream of information containing some kind of extreme "twisted" rules, like a bursting flood, forcibly poured into the depths of Kanjuro's soul through this demon's kiss!
In an instant, Kanjuro felt as if his consciousness was torn apart and reorganized; a brand-new authority, sufficient to subvert common sense and cognition, was engraved into his essence like a brand!
[Constitution Alteration Authority]—It wasn't simple healing or enhancement, but a power that could fundamentally "define" life forms!
It could arbitrarily twist, combine, and reshape the physical and energy composition of any creature (including himself)!
It could transform humans into monsters, give monsters human forms, and even forcibly fuse different life traits to create twisted creations that violated the laws of nature and only existed in nightmares!
Once the kiss ended, Chiyo's figure quietly dissipated just as it had appeared, and time resumed its flow.
Kanjuro stood in place, closing his eyes slightly, feeling the surging new power in his mind, the corners of his mouth uncontrollably curling into an extremely excited and cruel arc.
He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze falling upon Matou Zouken, who had just recovered from the time stop and was still in a state of extreme horror.
The moment time resumed flowing, Matou Zouken's shriveled body trembled violently due to extreme fear. He didn't even have time to think about where that eerie sense of stagnation had come from; survival instinct made him like a crawling insect facing a natural enemy, falling from the bed with a thud and prostrating himself before Kanjuro, his voice distorted by fright:
"Lord... Lord Ye Xiao! You... Why have you graced us with your presence..."
Kanjuro looked down at this puddle of crawling, decayed life, a smile appearing on his face that seemed gentle but was actually bone-chilling: "I've come to see my Sakura.
How is she doing here?"
Matou Zouken didn't dare look up, his voice carrying a humble flattery: "Kariya... Kariya has been protecting her all along. Rest assured, we haven't mistreated her in the slightest. She is very safe here..."
"Safe?"
Kanjuro seemed to have heard something interesting and laughed softly, then changed his tone to a conversational one, yet containing an undeniable pressure: "Matou Zouken, we come to make a deal, how about it?"
A deal? Matou Zouken was stunned, his cloudy eyes rolling with difficulty, trying to understand this demon's intention.
On the side, although Jeanne d'Arc seemed to have been isolated from some perceptions during the time freeze just now and failed to clearly capture Chiyo's presence, the sudden increase in the deep, eerie energy fluctuations from Kanjuro, as well as the "deal" he proposed now, made alarm bells ring in her heart.
"Let's play a game." Kanjuro's voice carried a hint of excited trembling as he whispered his "proposal"—that plan full of endless malice and distortion—to Matou Zouken.
After hearing Kanjuro's words, Matou Zouken suddenly raised his head. His old face, which looked like dried orange peel, was filled with unbelievable horror, and his voice changed pitch: "This... you want Kariya to die?! And you want to use Sakura?! She... she's just a child! And she's still a member of my Matou Family in name!"
Kanjuro seemed very satisfied with his reaction. He nodded, his smile unchanging: "What? You're unwilling?"
Matou Zouken panted heavily, his withered hand tightly clutching his chest, as if that heart, which relied on Crest Worms to keep beating, would explode at any moment.
He shook his head with difficulty, his voice carrying a trace of the remaining struggle of an elder: "No... absolutely not! Our Matou Family bloodline is already in jeopardy, and Kariya is one of the last hopes! And Sakura... although we didn't give her true affection, Kariya sincerely protected her and never let her be harmed by the Crest Worms! You... you actually want to use her like this and push her into hell?! I cannot agree to this!"
"Oh?" Kanjuro sighed with some regret. He leaned over slightly, his eyes deep as an abyss staring intently at Matou Zouken, as if they could suck away his last bit of soul,
"Matou Zouken, you've lived for so long, crawling upon the path of magecraft, struggling to survive like a maggot... In this life, what is it that you truly desire, that you've dreamed of... all along?"
His quiet words were like the sharpest needle, accurately piercing the deepest part of Matou Zouken's heart, a corner even he had almost forgotten.
Matou Zouken's body jerked violently, as if struck by lightning!
In those murky eyes, a complex light suddenly erupted, like terminal lucidity—there was shock, reminiscence, unspeakable pain, and... a faint yet stubborn desire that had been stirred up.
He raised his head, staring blankly at Kanjuro, his voice dry and trembling: "You... what did you say?"
The dark aura around Kanjuro surged slightly, and several slippery black tentacles loomed behind him, dancing like living things, emitting an aura of profanity and absolute power.
-- 0 Requesting Flowers 0 -- "I said... I can help you achieve it. Using the Holy Grail, or... my own power that approaches 'The Root'. Tell me, your original dream... buried by time and filth."
"Dream..." Matou Zouken murmured the word repeatedly, as if it were a strange and distant term.
His shriveled eye sockets actually became slightly moist, and murky tears slid down his deep wrinkles.
He lowered his head deeply again, almost prostrating himself, using all his strength to shout hoarsely with a sobbing tone:
"I want... I want to resurrect... Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern! The Saint of Winter... she is... the only love of my life!!"
This obsession, buried for hundreds of years and regarded as impossible to achieve, was roared out by him with all his might.
Hearing this, Kanjuro was stunned for a moment, and then, as if he had heard the most ridiculous story that perfectly suited his taste, he couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh wildly: "Haha... Hahaha! Good! Good! What a devoted old monster! For a woman who has long since become the foundation of the Holy Grail, you've lingered on for hundreds of years?! Too interesting!!"
His laughter echoed in the gloomy room, full of irony and the pleasure of controlling everything... "Fine! I promise you!" Kanjuro stopped laughing, his tone decisive,
"When I get the Holy Grail, or find another way, I will definitely help you resurrect your Saint of Winter! So now..."
His voice suddenly turned cold, "The things I've asked you to do, you must cooperate with me fully and play this scene well."
Matou Zouken knelt on the ground, his body trembling violently from excitement, fear, and the newly rekindled illusory hope.
He bit his almost non-existent lips tightly, his withered fingers digging deep into the floor, and finally, a submissive, broken voice squeezed out of his throat:
"...I... I understand."
Kanjuro nodded with satisfaction, not giving the old Magician another look, and turned to walk out.
Jeanne followed silently, and Matou Zouken also struggled to get up, stumbling behind like a controlled puppet.
They arrived at the guest room where Sakura was sleeping again.
Kanjuro walked to the bedside and, with movements that could even be called "gentle," picked up the sleeping Sakura along with her blanket.
The little girl seemed to feel a familiar embrace in her dream (perhaps an aura Kanjuro deliberately simulated), unconsciously snuggling into his arms and muttering "Uncle," falling into a deeper sleep.
Seeing this "heartwarming" scene like a father and daughter, Matou Zouken's body shook even harder. His voice trembled, almost pleading: "Lord Ye Xiao... she... she is your daughter after all..."
"Daughter?" Kanjuro looked down at the innocent Sakura in his arms, a twisted and extremely excited smile appearing on his face. There was no warmth in that smile, only the anticipation of some ultimate "entertainment."
"She is my daughter, that's true, but..." His voice rose slightly with excitement,
"Someone 'cares' about her more than I do, 'loves' her more! Just thinking about the expression that person is about to make, thinking about this carefully planned drama about to be staged... Hahahaha!! Too fun! I feel... so excited!!!"
Holding Sakura like a bomb about to explode, he let out a spine-chilling wild laugh.
Jeanne and Matou Zouken stood aside, looking at the manic Kanjuro and the unconscious Sakura in his arms. A chill went straight from their spines to the tops of their heads.
Kanjuro's behavior at this moment had completely surpassed the scope of human understanding. It was a pure, abyssal demonic pleasure that fed on the extreme pain of others (even his own bloodline).
They seemed to have already seen an irreversible tragedy, destined to end in blood and madness, slowly raising its curtain amidst Kanjuro's excited laughter.
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