The following morning dawned peacefully in the city of Kuoh.
The sky was clear, painted with shades of orange and light blue, with a few lazy clouds drifting above the city's trees. The damp rooftops gleamed under the morning sun, and the usual sounds began to fill the air—the distant hum of bicycles passing through the streets, the tinkling of wind chimes on porches, and the familiar aroma of fresh bread wafting from the downtown bakeries.
For most people, it was just another ordinary day. Nothing hinted that, the previous night, three goddesses had turned half of a tropical island into a battlefield over a single boy.
Far from there, surrounded by forests and protected by barriers as ancient as the world itself, Kazuya's mansion stood silent. The imposing manor, with its refined architecture blending Eastern and European elements, rested on the slope of a hill far from the city, bathed in the soft light of dawn.
Inside one of the rooms, the atmosphere was equally calm.
The gentle sound of the wind against the curtains was the only thing breaking the silence. The windows were slightly ajar, letting in the faint scent of leaves and flowers from the garden.
In the center of the room, on a spacious bed with light-colored sheets, Mitsuya Kanzaki lay.
The boy's face was peaceful, almost serene, as if he were merely sleeping deeply, without any trace of the injuries he had previously sustained. Even his leg, which had been torn off, had been perfectly reconstructed.
Beside the bed, seated on a cushioned wooden chair, was Kazuya.
Wearing only simple pajamas—cotton pants and a white t-shirt—his brow was furrowed, his eyes fixed on the boy. He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
"That was a close one…" he murmured.
Somehow, when Ishtar, Ereshkigal, and Skadi appeared carrying a boy missing a leg and gravely injured, it wasn't exactly a surprise to him. The three had a slight tendency to go overboard from time to time—or rather, almost always. Ishtar, in particular, was the most impulsive and prone to getting into trouble. Skadi wasn't far behind when it came to battles or challenges.
Ereshkigal, on the other hand, was the most balanced of the trio. Still, she almost invariably ended up being dragged into absurd and complicated situations by her sister, like this one. He had long lost count of how many times this had happened in his life as the last master of humanity in Chaldea.
Fortunately, he managed to handle the situation and heal the boy.
Of course, this was due to his [Magecraft] skill being of the highest possible level. This personal ability was so extraordinary that he possessed knowledge of all the magical crests from his former world.
At some point in a mage's life, they would forge their own Magical Circuits, storing many, if not all, of the spells they had learned in their lifetime, and then pass them on to their successor. As this process repeated with each new generation, the older a lineage, the greater the number of Magical Circuits forming the Magical Crest and the greater the amount of knowledge stored within it.
Implanting a [Magical Crest] carried a high risk of failure that could result in death; transplanting a Magical Crest was much like transplanting an internal organ and could only be done on someone compatible. It took several weeks to fully integrate, so it required time to learn all the magic contained within it.
The problem was that even among close relatives, the chances of rejection were high.
Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about that due to his personal ability.
He used the knowledge contained in the Magical Crest of the Zepter Family, which had been exterminated by the Mage's Association in his former world.
The Mage's Association had three official branches: the Clock Tower, the Atlas Academy, and the Wandering Sea.
He also learned about the Holy Church, an international religious organization seemingly inspired by the real Roman Catholic Church, and a group of individuals known as the Dead Apostle Ancestors.
While there were exceptions, many were malevolent entities that had achieved some form of immortality, making it difficult for the Mage's Association and the Holy Church to deal with them. They were associated with many clandestine organizations, with most of their members classified as Vampires, Ghouls, Necromancers, and other problematic existences.
The Zepter Family was a prime example of what happens when someone goes against these organizations. The heir of that family had shown signs of reckless behavior for several generations, stumbling from resurrection to monster creation; he truly drew attention when he used an entire city in northern Germany for his experiments decades ago.
One of those experiments was photographed in Bavaria. The Mage's Association couldn't remain silent after discovering it and tried to erase him from history, but he managed to escape alive.
He found his way to America to use its land and people to research to his heart's content. He settled in a small village with a population of two thousand, Present Mountain, and continued his work there.
He turned into a monster starting in 1978, leaving a video to tell the Association's hunters about himself. His whereabouts remained unknown until twenty years after his departure from Europe, when one of his creations appeared in the village, where the police quickly killed it. Upon analyzing the corpse, a mage confirmed he had been in that village.
When they discovered this, the Mage's Association hired Natalia Kaminski to kill him, which culminated in success.
The Zepter Family was immersed in achieving the miracle of resurrecting the dead, initially focusing on reviving perfect bodies, then joining body parts, and finally attempting to create living beings by combining different body parts and giving the creature bodily functions.
While they succeeded in restoring the body to a perfect likeness of life, even allowing bodies with missing parts to accept foreign organs with ease, they never achieved the perfect recovery of the Soul. In their experiments for this, they strayed far from their original intent, moving from resurrection to "monster creation."
With this knowledge, he easily managed to reattach Kanzaki's leg, one he had recreated using alchemy and homunculus creation techniques. Then, he healed the rest of the injuries with some advanced restoration spells.
However, his work didn't stop there.
Using his [Third Magic], he altered the boy's soul, forcing him to revert to being an ordinary human, nullifying any trace of supernatural power. Soon after, he resorted to his Longinus to erase all of Kanzaki's memories related to the supernatural world, leaving him unable to recall anything connected to it.
And, of course…
He removed the two Longinus that were lodged in the boy's body and fused them directly into his own soul.
Now, he possessed two new Longinus: Telos Karma, also known as the History Breaker, and Innovate Clear, called the Miniature Garden of Blue Innovation.
Telos Karma was capable of distorting probability, creating outcomes that would otherwise be impossible.
Innovate Clear, on the other hand, allowed the creation of an ideal world in another dimension, similar to Dimension Lost. However, it went further: it could generate near-perfect imitations of living beings, reminiscent of the Annihilation Maker's ability. For this reason, it was also known as the Sacred Gear That Allows One to Pass as God. However, there was a limitation: everything that existed within the world created by Innovate Clear could only remain in that space.
Additionally, Innovate Clear had the extra utility of taking control of dimensional barriers or isolated spaces, making it a versatile tool for both offense and territorial dominance.
Although he needed to train both to reach their highest levels, he could already use their basic abilities, even having just transplanted them into himself. Innovate Clear granted him a miniature world he could access at any time. This gave him the idea of, in the near future, transferring his entire organization into this safe and isolated space. It was something that would require careful planning, and he would need to think through every detail calmly.
As for Telos Karma, it immediately elevated his luck to an entirely new level. Without him realizing, the Longinus eliminated the [Chaotic Luck: B] trait he previously possessed.
He ran a hand over his face and propped his elbow on his knee.
"The idiot was a lot of work…" he murmured again, staring at the unconscious boy.
He wasn't a heartless monster. Although he had the ambition to steal the boy's Longinus, as he had just done, he had no intention of killing him. His plan was quite different: he wanted to give Kanzaki a normal life, far from all the chaos of the supernatural world.
To that end, he prepared everything. He arranged a family for the boy, a couple who had lost their son in an accident. When his servants confirmed the mission was complete, he teleported there and, using hypnosis, made the couple see Kanzaki as their own son. Before that, by altering the boy's memories, he also implanted the image of those two as his true parents.
Additionally, he organized Kanzaki's enrollment in a reputable school, ensured he could make friends, and live a peaceful, danger-free life.
It was the least he could do… considering he had stolen two Longinus from him.
Speaking of which, he also needed to resolve another pending issue: sending money to cover the repairs for part of the city on the island of Crete, which had been partially destroyed by his servants during the hunt to capture the boy. Fortunately, no one had been injured in the incident, something almost miraculous considering who was involved.
Sighing, he made a quick mental note to transfer the necessary funds and, if possible, erase the memories of some particularly inconvenient witnesses.
Kazuya looked at the sleeping boy once more.
For a moment, his supernatural blue eyes gleamed with something… not guilt, but a certain melancholy he always tried to ignore.
"Time to send you home, kid," he said in a calm, almost paternal tone.
Kazuya raised his right hand, and with a simple gesture of his fingers, a teleportation circle formed instantly beneath the bed, with intricate lines and symbols glowing in pale blue, radiating a soft aura.
The marks spun slowly, releasing ethereal particles into the air, and within seconds, Mitsuya Kanzaki's figure began to dematerialize amidst the light, his body being transported without pain or disturbance.
The destination: the isolated village of Shirakawa-go, Japan. A place of ancient thatched-roof houses, surrounded by mountains and dense forests.
A quiet, discreet place where the supernatural would hardly reach.
When the circle completed its function and the room was empty again, Kazuya let out a long sigh and stretched in the chair, murmuring to himself quietly…
"Sorry, kid. I won't be a hypocrite and say it was for your own good, but at least you won't be hunted by anyone anymore, and you'll have a happier life."
Shaking his head, he cracked his shoulders and stood up, running a hand through his messy hair. He walked to the open window, watching the clear sky, the morning breeze further tousling his hair.
His blue eyes surveyed his property.
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The oldest memory I have is like a scar that time doesn't erase. I remember the cold floor of our apartment, the silent walls, and the smell—a heavy mix of cheap beer, stale cigarettes, and sweat. That smell still visits me in nightmares.
My father was in the living room. A big, bearded, disheveled man, with a bottle in hand and sunken, red eyes. The drink made him different, as if a beast had taken his place. He stumbled, spoke loudly, and every word felt like a thunderstorm about to crash down on me.
I tried to cross the room without being seen. I slunk along the walls, aiming for the front door. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. Each step was a silent plea to disappear. The door seemed so close… but never close enough.
I was almost touching the handle when I felt it. His hand. Big. Heavy. It grabbed my ankle. In a second, I was yanked back, hard. I hit the floor with everything, the air rushed out of my lungs, and fear exploded inside me like a siren.
I tried to break free, kick, crawl. But it was no use. His hand was like iron.
"Where do you think you're going, kid?" he growled, his voice slurred, laced with anger.
All I could do was cry. A loud, broken cry that came from deep in my stomach. Then came the slap. A sharp, direct snap that made my head spin. I tasted fear in my mouth. I fell to the side, dazed, the whole world spinning, and kept crying, unable to stop.
He came closer, his heavy steps on the wooden floor. He pulled me again, hard. I thrashed, begged without being able to form sentences. The sobs came in waves, and every attempt to speak was swallowed by the crying.
"Men don't cry!" he shouted, each word like a blow. "Shut your mouth!"
The slaps came on my back, my legs, painful and uncontrolled. And I just cried more. Because I was too small to understand. Too small to fight back. And at that moment, the world seemed like a place where no one could hear me.
Then I heard it. A crash. The front door burst open violently, as if the outside world had, for a second, decided enough was enough.
A voice shouted:
"Let him go! NOW!"
My father turned toward the door, panting, still stumbling, but with clenched fists as if he were about to attack whoever dared to enter. Me, on the floor, I could barely lift my head. My vision was blurry, the sound muffled, but I recognized that voice.
It was Mr. Natsuki, the neighbor from 402. A quiet man who lived alone and, until that day, I only knew as the man with sad eyes and slow steps in the hallway.
But there, in that moment, he was anything but quiet. He stormed into the room like lightning, arm extended, and in his hand… something I'd never seen in real life, only in movies. A revolver.
My father took a step, muttering something I didn't understand, maybe a curse, maybe just another empty grunt of rage.
Then, the sound.
A single shot. Sharp. Dull. Hot.
My whole body flinched with the noise, as if the air had been sliced. For a second, everything stopped. The house fell silent.
I saw my father fall. Like a wardrobe collapsing, heavy, slow, without balance. The bottle fell from his hand and shattered on the floor, scattering shards and a strong smell.
I didn't understand. Not at the time. I just saw the lights flickering on the ceiling and Mr. Natsuki's shoes approaching me.
He crouched down, wrapped his arms around me.
"It's okay now, son. It's okay. It's over."
I stayed there, trembling in his arms.
After that day, everything changed, but nothing was easy. The police arrived quickly, with sirens cutting through the street's silence and firm voices that no longer scared me, because, for the first time, I wasn't alone.
They asked questions, looked at my dirty and swollen face, and told me I was safe now. But the truth is, at that moment, I just wanted my mother. I didn't know where she was or when she would come for me.
She arrived a few hours later. She came running, her eyes red from crying, her voice trembling. I clung to her as if she were the last piece of the world I knew. She hugged me tightly, whispering that she was there, that everything would be okay.
The days that followed were a blur of adults speaking in serious tones, of doctors, social workers, and a house full of strangers. After a lot of complicated things—meetings, decisions, paperwork—my mother decided it was time to start over.
She told me we were going to live in another city, a place where no one knew who I was, where the past couldn't reach us so easily.
I didn't understand everything at the time, but I felt it was a fresh start. A place where I could, perhaps, grow up without fear.
But that was just the beginning of my personal hell…
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Kazuya shook his head and let out a sigh.
"I still can't forget that, huh…?"
Setting that aside, he shifted his focus to using his three daily chances in the [Fate Gacha], eager to see what his rewards would be now that he had a cheat that boosted his luck to absurd levels…
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