Let us tell the story of a certain man.
This man experienced despair three times in his life.
He was born in the early Edo period, in the Shimabara region of Kyushu.
His family were farmers, and both his parents were alive—this was his environment before adulthood.
In the early Edo period, famine struck Shimabara. Crops failed completely, corpses littered the roads, and some starving peasants even resorted to cannibalism. The scenes were too horrific to bear.
Yet despite the people's suffering, the cruel and greedy lord, Matsukura Shigemasa, continued his oppressive taxation, squeezing every last coin from his subjects without regard for their lives. The region descended into chaos.
Bandits roamed the land, murderous thugs ran rampant, and ronin with bloodshot eyes cut down anyone in their path… Shimabara became a hellscape, pushing its people to the brink.
The man's village became a sacrifice to this era.
When he returned, all he saw were mutilated corpses and a raging inferno.
His father, his mother, the villagers he knew—all perished in those flames.
This was the man's first despair.
The despair of losing everyone he held dear.
He wept bitterly, but no matter how much he grieved, the dead would not return.
Lost in despair, he numbly left his homeland.
By then, Shimabara offered no place for farmers to survive. Heavy taxes and famine had literally robbed them of any means to live.
And just then, the shogunate issued the "Edict to Ban Christianity," ordering all citizens to renounce their "heretical" faith. Those who refused within two months would be executed.
Shimabara had long been a stronghold of Christianity since its introduction. Many—peasants, wealthy merchants, even wandering swordsmen—were devout believers.
Already suffering under famine and crushing taxes, the people of Shimabara were now stripped of the faith that had been their last solace. Their fury boiled over, and they rose in rebellion.
Leading the Shimabara rebels was a boy of just sixteen, yet renowned for his wisdom and said to possess the power to raise the dead and heal the mortally wounded—Amakusa Shirou Tokisada.
In that era, Amakusa seemed heaven-sent, a natural figure for the faithful to rally behind.
For this boy truly worked miracles—healing wounds, walking on water. Soon, he was revered as the "Child of God," a saint, and naturally became the rebellion's leader.
This peasant uprising would later be known as the Shimabara Rebellion.
The man joined the rebels, becoming one of Amakusa's close retainers. He witnessed the boy's miracles firsthand.
At the time, he was moved, believing them to be divine gifts. Only much later would he realize they were simply the result of an innate talent for magecraft.
The Shimabara rebels won victory after victory, their mere thirty thousand defeating armies of one hundred twenty thousand time and again.
But their fortune did not last.
After repeated defeats, the shogunate grew fearful. They dispatched seasoned generals to crush the rebellion. After two months of siege, cut off from food and water, the rebels were betrayed and utterly defeated.
All thirty thousand in Shimabara Castle perished in flames.
Among them were villagers suffering under famine and taxes, ronin who opposed the ban on Christianity, the rebellion's saintly leader Amakusa Shirou, and countless elders, women, and children—all people the man had known well.
They were guilty of nothing. They only wanted to live.
Yet a single fire reduced them all to ash.
Only the man survived.
"You must live on."
With those words, Amakusa helped him fake his death to escape the shogunate's slaughter, while Amakusa himself walked calmly into the flames, joining the masses in their fiery hell.
This was the man's second despair.
The despair of watching all his comrades—and the tens of thousands of civilians they swore to protect—burn to death before his eyes.
The man successfully faked his death and fled Shimabara in numbness.
In just twenty or thirty years, everyone who had loved him, everyone he had loved, had died in flames.
This time, the man lived on as an empty shell, drifting through nearly four hundred years.
He could not understand why Amakusa had spared him alone. He saw no value in his survival. A man like him only brought misfortune to those around him.
What right did someone like him have to live when all others had perished?
He pondered endlessly.
Without realizing it, he plunged into the world of magecraft.
He thought much, experienced much, and made many attempts along the way.
He wished to see his parents again—to recreate the world of the dead through magecraft. He failed.
He tried to summon the spirits of Amakusa and the rebels, to ask the questions that had festered in his heart for centuries. Again, he failed.
He tried… and failed, failed, failed, failed, failed.
By the time he noticed, nearly four hundred years had passed.
It was the late 20th century. The world had changed beyond recognition.
And not a single one of his goals had been achieved.
—Until that night.
A torrent of black mud erupted from Fuyuki City, spreading across Japan and, within a year, covering the globe. The earth burned for a year, the land was polluted, and humanity perished in droves, forced to retreat into fortified bases while monstrous beasts ruled the wilds.
The world had veered sharply onto a path no one could foresee.
Through his connections in the Mage's Association, the man came to Fuyuki and beheld the source of this calamity—the Greater Grail.
Alongside other magi, he conducted experiments on it, reaching a conclusion:
No one could use the Greater Grail as it was now.
Even the greatest magi would be corrupted and killed by its curses before achieving anything.
They were powerless to restore the world.
"No… But if it were Lord Amakusa—!"
At that moment, a trembling thought struck him.
Yes!
An ordinary magus could never use the Greater Grail now. Merely touching it was impossible, let alone wielding it.
But what of Amakusa Shirou's innate ability?
With Amakusa's talent, simply by touching a magical foundation, he could make it his own. In other words, if he touched the Greater Grail, he could claim it!
No—better not to touch it. He would need to use Amakusa's power from as far away as possible, with as minimal contact as he could manage.
And the best method for that was undoubtedly—Mystic Eyes.
If he could recreate Amakusa Shirou's ability in the form of Mystic Eyes, then with those eyes, he could harness the Greater Grail's power!
The man—Uemon Ji—felt his very soul tremble.
"Lord Amakusa… I have finally found my purpose!"
Tears streamed down Uemon's face.
For four hundred years, he had lived burdened by guilt. Now, at last, he had found his calling.
Yes.
He had discovered what he must do.
He had found the reason he had survived these four centuries.
Everyone else was dead.
His father, his mother, the villagers, the rebels, Lord Amakusa—all of them.
Then surely, as the one who lived in their stead, he had a duty to fulfill!
That was why he still walked this earth!
He would use the Greater Grail—to save the world!
***
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