Chapter 177: Episode 4: The Hollow Shrine (Part 7)
"Jeez, you scared the hell out of me. What are you, a cat?"
Aozaki Touko rushed onto the scene, only to find Shiki Ryougi standing tall—having just leapt out of a second-story window like it was nothing.
As a magus, Touko had sensed that something unusual would happen tonight. That's why she'd stayed at the hospital, even setting up a boundary field around the place. And yet, despite all her precautions, the spirit fragments had forced their way in—using a real, physical body to bypass her spells entirely. Her barriers were rendered useless.
Now, with no choice left, she decided to take matters into her own hands and incinerate the ghost with her magic.
Flames roared from her fingertips—
—but they didn't work.
The corpse didn't even flinch.
"Tch. This is a pain... If it were still human, all I'd need to do is burn its heart. But this thing's already dead—rip off an arm, crack the skull, it makes no difference. Unless I've got a crematorium-level inferno, or a monk who's reached enlightenment, it's not going down."
"So basically… you're useless," Shiki said flatly.
Touko opened her mouth to snap back—then thought better of it.
She couldn't argue.
This thing was beyond her.
Then Shiki suddenly muttered:
"Dead or not, it's still a walking corpse, right? In that case—whatever it is, I'll kill it."
Without hesitation, she unwrapped the bandages around her eyes—and with one swift cut, sliced off the long hair that had grown during her two-year coma.
Her Mystic Eyes of Death Perception gleamed vividly in the darkness.
Boom!
In the very next second, she lunged at the ghost.
What followed was an intense hand-to-hand brawl. Shiki—unarmed and alone—relentlessly attacked the creature, overwhelming it with sheer ferocity. Despite the disparity in their natures—living vs dead—her blows tore through the corpse like thunder.
But her fingers… couldn't handle the strain. A few bones cracked from the force.
"Shiki!"
Touko tossed her a short blade from the sidelines.
Without missing a beat, Shiki caught it and slashed across the corpse's body—
—but then—
"No good! That wasn't the real target!"
Touko's voice rang out just as a burst of white mist exploded from the corpse—rushing into Shiki's body with a violent surge.
"—!"
In an instant, Shiki's body crumpled to the ground.
"Too soft at the end, huh? Idiot," Touko muttered, sighing.
She stepped forward, ready to help.
But Shiki stopped her with a single glance.
Then, gripping the dagger with both hands, she turned the blade inward—aiming it at her own heart.
"You're not getting away this time."
She whispered those words not to Touko—but to the thing inside her.
"I'm going to kill the weak part of me. I won't let you take Ryougi Shiki. Not now. Not ever."
And with that—
She plunged the dagger into her own chest.
The cursed wraith inside her was annihilated—gone in a flash of death.
The battle was over.
And the audience? Riveted.
Compared to Fate/Zero's grand, operatic showdowns, The Garden of Sinners didn't flaunt flashiness. Its fights were grounded, suffused with raw tension—filled with eerie, breathless clashes between humans and the ghost. It had its own flavor, and people loved it.
Especially the heroine—Ryougi Shiki.
With every scene, more viewers found themselves captivated by her cold grace and fearless intensity.
"She's so cool! Like, unbelievably cool—even though she's a woman!"
"Exactly! Her design leans toward androgyny, but it never feels forced. It's like she blends the best traits of both masculinity and femininity. Totally charismatic. Gender doesn't even matter—everyone falls for her."
"She's got that strong, noble aura. You just feel it."
"Even as a woman myself… I think I'm falling for her."
"Back off—Ryougi Shiki is my wife!"
"Didn't you just scream 'Saber is my wife!' back at the theater?"
"Tch, you'll never understand the bliss of having multiple wives!"
"..."
Laughter and chatter echoed through taverns and TV lounges all over the city. Now that the climax of the episode had passed, most viewers were visibly relaxed, their tension eased.
Even His Majesty the Emperor, along with his many knights, were seated in a corner of one such tavern, sipping their drinks as the conversation turned casual.
"So, have any of you ever fought against the ghost before?" Emperor Hubbard asked suddenly, cutting through the murmurs.
At that, most of the knights exchanged glances and slowly shook their heads.
After all, dealing with incorporeal spirits was typically the work of church priests or trained mage. A knight's blade, no matter how sharp, couldn't do much against a being with no flesh to cut.
Only one person nodded.
It was General Wilhelm, the Empire's famed Sword Saint.
"I once ventured into the chaos land," he said calmly. "During that mission, I encountered several ghosts… and to be frank, they were a nightmare. My sword strikes, even my aura blades—nothing landed. Nothing worked."
"So? What did you do?" someone asked, leaning in.
Everyone around turned silent, ears pricked. Even the Beastkin Oracle—who'd been brooding in the back corner, lost in philosophical interpretations of the film—lifted his head to listen.
Whether knight or beastkin, most warriors were near-helpless against ghosts without magic. The question of how Wilhelm had handled such a foe was no small matter.
The general just gave a wry smile.
"Truth is… I didn't deal with them, per se. I was young, brash—and convinced I could muscle through anything. So I just charged headfirst into their deathly auras, tanked the debuffs, and ran past them until they lost track of me."
"..."
The knights stared, stunned. Who would've thought the famously composed general had once been that reckless?
The Beastkin Oracle, meanwhile, was outright floored. He knew all too well: even the strongest beastkin soldiers would wither and die within minutes if exposed to the aura of multiple ghosts.
That meant only one thing.
Wilhelm's sheer stamina, even in his youth, was beyond monstrous.
And now? After decades of experience and growth? He might very well be approaching the fabled Sixth Rank—a realm so powerful, even legendary heroes tread lightly.
Meanwhile, in stark contrast to the casual admiration of Shiki's beauty and the excitement of the battle scenes among average viewers, the mages at the Imperial Mage Academy were laser-focused on entirely different things.
"That was reckless. Absolutely reckless. First rule of combat against ghosts is to keep your distance, probe the spirit's weakness, and then blast it with Holy Purification or a Psionic Storm!"
"You're talking like she's a trained mage. She's not. Shiki doesn't use magic, remember?"
"Which is exactly why she shouldn't have approached a spiritual entity so carelessly! Getting possessed is the best case scenario. Worst case? Her soul gets devoured and converted into part of the ghost."
"Seriously. Before the Mage Towers were founded, tons of promising mages died because they didn't understand how to handle incorporeal threats. They got taken over—and their souls got eaten clean."
"Yeah, this scene could really send the wrong message to newbies..."
"You're all forgetting something: she's got the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception. She's not exactly your average girl next door. No normal person's gonna try to copy her."
"True. Plus, this kind of anti-ghost protocol is basic knowledge for anyone with proper magical education."
And so, the mages discussed—not the beauty of the scene, but its realism, tactical implications, and potential misinformation risks.
In the world of magic, "common sense" was a term with vastly different meaning.
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