[Kenji Sato (MC) POV]
I left Jeanne at the apartment and headed out alone. Shopping district wasn't far—figured I'd grab her something simple and be back in twenty minutes.
It did not take twenty minutes.
Every store I hit either had nothing, prices that made me wince, or stuff that screamed "look at me." I wandered through racks of dresses, blazers, seasonal garbage—none of it felt right.
Just as I was about to call it quits, I spotted a cardboard box outside a secondhand shop with a handwritten sign taped to it.
"FREE — Take what you want."
I looked inside. Women's clothes. Clean. Folded.
I grabbed the whole box.
On the walk back, I passed a woman with long golden hair and red eyes. Didn't think much of it. Plenty of weird fashion choices in this city. I kept walking.
When I got home, Jeanne was standing exactly where I'd left her. I dropped the box on the sofa.
"Try these on. See what fits."
She gathered the box without a word and disappeared into the bathroom.
I sat down, scrolling through my phone while I waited. A few minutes later, the door opened.
"Master."
I glanced up—and paused.
Ripped black jeans. White tank top. Faded jean jacket over it, unbuttoned. The heavy armor was gone, and without it, she looked dazzling.
She tugged at the hem of the jacket. "Does this work?"
"Yeah," I said, nodding. "You look good. That fits you perfectly."
Her expression softened, and a faint smile touched her lips. "Thank you."
I stood up, grabbing my wallet and keys. "Alright. Let's head out."
She nodded and followed me to the door.
We walked through the shopping district with no real destination in mind. Mostly because I'd completely forgotten to ask Arthur for money before he left, and my own wallet was lighter than I'd like to admit. So we were just... walking. Window shopping without the shopping part.
Jeanne stayed close, her presence quiet but solid. People passed by without giving her a second glance—the outfit worked. She blended in perfectly, just another girl out for a stroll.
Then she stopped.
Her hand shot out, gripping my wrist. Her pale eyes scanned the crowd, sharp and alert.
"Master," she said quietly. "Someone is watching us."
I tensed, following her gaze. My mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario.
Gilles de Rais.
That twisted, delusional piece of garbage. I'd seen enough of his Caster form in Fate/Zero and Grand Order to know exactly what kind of monster he was. His Saber form? That version was fine. A knight. Tragic, even. But his Caster self? That thing was a walking atrocity that deserved to be put down like the vermin he was.
If he was here, stalking Jeanne because of his obsession—
I turned to her, keeping my voice low. "It could be someone you know. Someone from your past. If it comes down to it... will you still fight them?"
Jeanne didn't hesitate. Her grip on my wrist tightened, and her eyes locked onto mine with absolute certainty.
"Of course, Master," she said firmly. "I've devoted myself to you as your Servant. Whoever they are, if they threaten you, I will end them."
I froze.
Something about the way she said it—the conviction, the unwavering loyalty—it hit me harder than I expected. Back in my old life, I wasn't exactly popular with girls.
Hell, I wasn't popular with anyone. I was the guy people tolerated at best, ignored at worst. Having someone treat me like this—
Before I could think too hard about it, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her in a quick hug.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "Seriously. Thank you."
Jeanne stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard. Then, slowly, she relaxed, her hands hovering uncertainly before resting lightly against my back.
"...You're welcome, Master."
I pulled back, clearing my throat awkwardly. The moment lingered for a second too long, and I needed to move before it got weird.
I reached out and took her hand. "Come on. Even if we can't buy anything, we can still enjoy the daytime, right?"
Jeanne blinked, her pale cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. A soft, genuine smile tugged at her lips.
"Of course," she said.
——
We spent the rest of the afternoon just walking. No money, no set destination, just killing time as the sun began to dip, painting the sky in bruised shades of violet and orange. The feeling of being watched lingered for a while, but whoever it was eventually backed off.
By the time we reached the residential district, the streetlights were just starting to flicker on. We approached the corner Arthur had designated, and I spotted him immediately.
Even dressed in modern clothes, he stood out. He had that effortless, princely aura—standing tall and dignified under the glow of a streetlamp, his emerald eyes scanning the darkening streets. When he saw us, his sharp, vigilant expression melted into a warm, genuinely relieved smile.
"Kenji," Arthur greeted, stepping forward. His eyes drifted down to where my hand was still holding Jeanne's. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. "I see you and Lancer managed to find some common ground while I was away. I'm glad."
Jeanne didn't pull away, though she did avert her eyes slightly. I just cleared my throat. "It was a good afternoon. Though... someone was tailing us earlier. Jeanne sensed them, but they never made a move."
Arthur's smile vanished. The warm older brother was instantly replaced by the King of Knights, his presence hardening into something sharp and heavy. "A Servant?"
"Could be. Or a mage."
Arthur nodded, his jaw setting. "I'll keep my senses sharp. If they followed you here, they are walking into a vile place." He turned his gaze down the street, his expression darkening with disgust. "The Matou estate is just ahead. I scouted the perimeter earlier. The magical energy radiating from that property... it reeks."
Zouken.
"If there's a clue to the Grail's corruption, it's in there," Arthur continued, his voice low and firm. He looked at Jeanne. "Lancer. I leave his back to you. I will take the front."
Jeanne gave a single, resolute nod. "He will not be harmed."
"Good." Arthur turned toward the creeping shadows of the street. "Let's go."
The Matou manor loomed at the end of the road, a traditional Japanese compound that felt less like a home and more like a mausoleum. The very air around the heavy wooden gates felt suffocating.
Arthur didn't hesitate. With a silent breath, he pushed the heavy iron-wrought side gate open, the hinges groaning in the quiet night.
Together, the three of us stepped into Zouken's domain.
The moment we crossed the threshold of the manor, the oppressive air grew suffocating. Arthur didn't hesitate. In a flash of brilliant azure light, his casual clothes dissolved, replaced instantly by the gleaming silver and blue of his heavy armor. He summoned his blade, the holy sword draped in rushing winds, and kicked the main doors open.
Jeanne and I rushed in right behind him, only to be met with a horrifying sight.
The foyer was already a battlefield. A massive, churning cloud of grotesque, blade-winged insects swarmed the room, and at the center of it all stood Zouken Matou, his ancient, shriveled face twisted into a mocking sneer.
Arthur didn't give the old monster a second to breathe. He lunged forward, his blade tearing through the swarm with a burst of immense magical energy.
"Kenji!" Arthur roared over the screeching of the insects, parrying a wave of hardened worms. "The source of the corruption is in the basement! Go!"
Jeanne grabbed my arm, shielding me with her body as we bypassed the chaotic clash and sprinted down the dark, rotting hallways until we found the stone steps leading underground. The stench of decay and raw, malicious magic grew stronger with every step.
We burst into the basement, coming to a dead halt at the edge of a massive, stone-carved pit.
I looked down, my stomach twisting. It wasn't just worms down there. The bottom of the pit was flooded with a thick, bubbling black sludge.
But why was it here? Why was the All the World's Evil pooling in the Matou basement?
"Master, step back," Jeanne warned, her lance materializing in her hand as she stared at the sludge with sheer disgust. "It is not worth going down there. It is nothing but corrupted liquid and filth."
"Hold on," I muttered, creeping closer to the edge. My heart was pounding. Something felt wrong. I scanned the dark, shifting surface of the mud, desperately looking for—
There.
A small, pale hand barely sticking upward from the black sludge, trembling weakly.
"Sakura..." I breathed out.
Without a second thought, I threw myself over the edge.
"Master!" Jeanne screamed, terror cracking her calm facade.
I hit the sludge with a heavy splash. I braced myself for the burning agony of All the World's Evil, the mind-breaking curses I knew were packed into this mud. But... nothing happened. The liquid clung to my clothes and skin, cold and foul, but the only pain I felt was a sharp, pulsing migraine—the exact same headache I had felt when I first arrived in this world.
I ignored it and waded violently through the thick mud, reaching the tiny, sinking hand. I grabbed her wrist and pulled hard.
With a sickening squelch, I yanked Sakura out of the sludge. She was limp, her breathing terribly shallow. I wiped the black mud from her face, my breath catching in my throat. Her hair, which should have been dark violet or black, was a sickly, pale purple... and the tips were stark white. The corruption was already eating away at her.
"No," I growled, holding her small body against my chest. "No come one, wake up ."
I didn't have a spell for this. I didn't know magecraft.
'But...what if i try to absorb Angra,' I began thinking 'if I have a tolerance for it when I first got her maybe I can...'
Pull.
"Come on!!!" I roared, gritting my teeth as the migraine spiked into blinding pain.
Suddenly, I felt it. A violent, pulling sensation deep in my chest. The black veins creeping up Sakura's neck stopped. The dark mud clinging to her skin, and the sludge filling the pit around us, began to tremble. Like water draining into a whirlpool, the dark energy of Angra Mainyu rushed out of her and straight into my palm, absorbing directly into my body.
[Ding!]
[Condition Met: Absorbing pure curses and malicious energy.]
[Skill Gained: Curse Absorption (Lv. 1)]
The system prompt flashed in my vision, but the torrent didn't stop. The sheer volume of Angra Mainyu's corruption hidden in the pit and inside the girl rushed into me like a broken dam.
[Curse Absorption has leveled up!]
[Curse Absorption has leveled up!]
[Curse Absorption has reached Lv. 12!]
The black mud around my waist dissolved into raw energy, vanishing into my pores. Sakura gasped, her small chest heaving as clean air finally filled her lungs, the unnatural white fading from the tips of her hair.
Sakura's chest rose and fell in a steady, albeit weak, rhythm. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, my shoulders slumping in sheer relief. My hands were actually shaking. The thought of her going still in my arms... I clamped down on the memory before it could surface. I didn't want to know what it felt like to hold someone who had died right in front of me a second time.
A heavy thud echoed behind me. Jeanne landed gracefully at the bottom of the drained pit, her lance a blur of silver as she mercilessly crushed and incinerated the few squirming crest worms that had survived the sudden absence of the black mud.
She rushed to my side, her eyes wide with frantic concern as she scanned my face, my chest, looking for any sign of corruption. "Master! Are you hurt? The curses—"
"I'm fine," I cut in gently, getting to my feet with Sakura cradled against my chest. "Honestly. But... I do feel a bit different."
My blood felt warmer, heavier. The migraine was gone, replaced by a strange, humming vitality.
Jeanne didn't look entirely convinced, but she nodded, keeping her lance ready as she escorted us out of the pit. We hurried back up the stone steps, leaving the rotting stench of the basement behind.
When we reached the foyer, the swarm of insects was gone. The room was a disaster zone of slashed walls and shattered wood. In the center of the wreckage, Arthur stood tall, his holy sword planted firmly into the floorboards, the golden light of his blade pinning a mangled, wheezing Zouken Matou to the ground by his robes.
Arthur looked over his shoulder as we emerged. "The magus is subdued," he reported, though his voice lacked its usual warmth. He glanced at the unconscious girl in my arms. "What was down there, Kenji?"
"Angra Mainyu," I said grimly. "The mud of the Grail. He was using it to corrupt this little girl."
Arthur's emerald eyes darkened. The temperature in the room seemed to drop as his gaze snapped back down to Zouken. The sheer, unadulterated disgust radiating from the King of Knights was palpable. To a king who championed justice and protected the weak, Zouken was the lowest form of filth.
"Arthur," I said, my voice eerily calm. "Take her. Get her outside where the air is clean."
Arthur didn't argue. He pulled his sword from the floorboards, effortlessly taking Sakura into his armored arms with surprising gentleness.
"And I need some alone time with him," I added, staring down at the old worm. "I swear I'll be fine."
Jeanne stiffened beside me. "Master, I cannot leave you alone with an enemy magus—"
"Jeanne. Please." I looked at her, my expression hard but pleading. "Just give me five minutes."
She wanted to refuse. I could see the conflict warring in her pale eyes, the desperate need to stay between me and any potential threat. But Arthur placed a heavy, reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"Let him be, Lancer," Arthur said quietly. "The old man has no strength left."
Jeanne bit her lip, shooting a venomous glare at Zouken before finally bowing her head. She followed Arthur out the shattered front doors, leaving me completely alone with the head of the Matou family.
Zouken wheezed, a pathetic, wet sound as he tried to shift his broken body. "Foolish boy..." he rasped, his sunken eyes glaring up at me with malicious venom. "You think... you have won? The Matou... will not—"
I walked over, my boots crunching on the ruined floorboards, and stood directly over him. The dark, absorbed energy in my veins pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat.
I crouched down, staring into his hollow, decaying eyes.
"You know..." I whispered. "I always wanted to try this to someone."
I stared down into Zouken's sunken, rotting eyes.
"Hey, Zouken," I said, my voice deadpan. "What's one thousand minus seven?"
The ancient magus blinked, his grotesque face twisting in confusion and irritation. "What nonsense are you—"
I didn't let him finish. I grabbed his index finger, calling upon the energy I had been holding back.
[Lightning God form.]
A sharp, crackling spark of blue lightning flared from my hand. Zouken let out a horrific, gurgling shriek as the intense heat instantly cooked his finger, charring the flesh.
"I asked you a question," I said coldly, letting the residual electricity dance across my knuckles. "Here are the rules. You're going to count backwards from one thousand by sevens. Out loud. Every time you stop, every time you hesitate, I increase the voltage."
Zouken writhed, coughing up a black, bile-like substance. "You... arrogant little—!"
I pressed two electrified fingers against his shoulder. He screamed again as the smell of burnt rot filled the air.
"If you make it to zero," I leaned in close, whispering into his ear, "I'll let you walk out of here. I won't even tell Arthur or Jeanne. You have my word. Now... count."
Terror, genuine and primal, finally pierced through the old monster's arrogance. His jaw trembled. "N-Nine hundred... and ninety-three..."
"Good," I muttered, letting a constant, low current flow from my hand into his chest. Just enough to keep his nerves constantly firing in agonizing, inescapable pain. "Keep going."
"Nine hundred... eighty-six..." Zouken gasped, his body convulsing under the steady current. "Nine hundred... seventy-nine..."
Minutes dragged on. The great and terrifying Zouken Matou, the monster who had tortured countless people, was reduced to a weeping, pathetic mess on his own ruined floor, sobbing out numbers while I steadily fed lightning into his rotting veins.
"Fifty-five..." he wheezed, his voice barely a rasp now. "Forty-eight... forty-one..."
I kept the current steady, watching his life force wane with every number.
"Twenty... twenty... no, thirteen..." Zouken's eyes rolled back slightly. He was at the absolute limit. "Six... and..."
He stopped, his shattered mind trying to process the math through the haze of electrical agony. He looked up at me, a desperate, confused plea in his eyes.
"One...?" he rasped.
I stared at him for a second. Then, I let out a harsh, cold laugh.
"Duh," I smirked, looking down at the pathetic creature. "If you keep counting down from one thousand by seven, you don't hit zero. You're left with one."
'Well...negative one but still'
Zouken's eyes went wide as he realized the trap. "You... you promised—!"
"I lied."
I unleashed everything. I didn't hold back a single drop of mana. The Lightning God form skill erupted from my body in a blinding, roaring torrent of blue-white lightning. The sheer voltage exploded outward, filling the entire foyer with a deafening thunderclap that shattered the remaining windows and vaporized Zouken Matou on the spot, turning his main body and every hidden crest worm inside him into nothing but scorched shadows on the floor.
The light faded, leaving the room smoking and completely silent.
[Ding!]
[Skill: Lightning God form has leveled up!]
[Skill: Lightning God form has leveled up!]
[Skill: Lightning God form has reached Lv. 23!]
I let out a long breath, rolling my shoulders as the prompts vanished from my vision. I had to admit, I was glad the old bastard stuck around long enough to help me power level my skill.