What does it taste like to drink this black, muddy water?
Perhaps everyone's answer would be different. For Kirei, nothing filled the void in his hollow heart more completely than this tar-like sludge. The corrupted mud seeped into the cracks of his being, satisfying him more profoundly than the fleeting pleasures of any earthly indulgence.
Of course, as a priest, he had never experienced such worldly vices.
Meanwhile, guided by fragments of memory, Irisviel led the group toward the intersection below Ryūdō Temple. As an artificial being, the information accessible to her was limited; much of what she knew had been filtered and incomplete. All she could do was explore and piece together what remained.
If the underground cavern had been so easily discovered, Fuyuki City would long ago have turned it into a tourist attraction or summer retreat. But no—this was where the Greater Grail lay, where the Winter Saint slept. For that reason alone, the "old worm" would never allow ordinary people to trespass.
To him, that place was a wound too deep to expose.
Perhaps, in Zouken's mind, it would have been better had no one ever stumbled upon the cavern at all. By now, the ancient parasite had long forgotten why he wished to keep it hidden in the first place. Over centuries, the "old worm" had changed beyond recognition. Even if Hohenheim himself appeared in this age, he would never have associated the loathsome husk of Zouken with the ambitious man of noble spirit he had once known. That man had vanished long ago.
The entrance to the underground was not easy to locate. Ordinarily, it was sealed from discovery. But now, with torrents of magical energy spilling outward, the cavern was like a pocket with a hole torn open, its contents leaking into the world. To a magus, the disturbance was unmistakable. Though imprecise, it was enough to guide them.
"What foul magic," Kayneth muttered, frowning as he gazed at the entrance. "Even I, who have never studied holy sacraments, can feel it. Is this supposed to be the Holy Grail—a device that fulfills all wishes?"
The energy was so malignant, it seemed utterly at odds with the promise of universal wish-granting. Kayneth could not help but suspect that much of the Grail War's true nature was being concealed from its participants. He had underestimated the Far East once before; clearly, it was a mistake to do so again. As long as humans possess desire, darkness will follow.
Irisviel's eyes drifted to the file in her hand, her attention caught by a record of the Third Grail War—specifically, an erased name and missing class designation.
Far away, Kiritsugu was scouring the Einzbern castle archives, searching for anything left from sixty years prior.
Irisviel tightened her grip on the parchment. The Grail's corruption might be tied to that nameless Servant, yet without confirmation, it was impossible to know. "Everyone," she said firmly, "prepare yourselves. We're going down."
Merlin, for once serious, raised a hand and began a swift incantation. Soft light bloomed into a shield of petals, descending gently over each of them. "We may be allies only by circumstance," he murmured, "but I won't have my companions fall before the battle begins."
The passage beneath Ryūdō Temple widened the deeper they went, its air heavy with malevolence. The stench of evil grew thick enough to taste. Balin unsheathed the sacred spear, its radiance cutting through the shadows and driving back the oppressive atmosphere. They crossed beneath jagged stalactites, over a narrow stone bridge, and at last arrived before the Grail.
The pit beneath the bridge had been consumed by black sludge, endlessly bubbling. Each burst released a face—distorted, human, wailing. The sounds echoed like lamentations of the damned.
They had entered hell.
East or West, this scene belonged to every scripture's underworld.
Merlin frowned at the sight but did not intervene. The mud did not yet strike at them, and to purge it wholesale would demand a vast expenditure of prana. Even he could not squander his strength so recklessly.
Irisviel pressed a hand to her lips, horrified. If this corruption truly sprang from the Holy Grail, then the Grail itself had gone terribly wrong. The Einzbern design had intended for it to hold only the purest magical energy. And yet, sixty years ago during the Third War, something must have poisoned it.
The group pressed onward until, on a high platform above them, a young priest slowly turned. His expression was one of eerie delight. Spreading his arms wide, he proclaimed:
"Welcome… to the womb that bore the world's evil. I have been waiting for you."
Every Master's eyes widened in recognition.
"Kotomine Kirei?!"
Kayneth's gaze narrowed to a razor's edge. "If you've been here waiting for us… then that means Kotomine Risei, your father—he was killed by you, wasn't he?"
Kirei's smile did not falter. He lowered his arms and shook his head slowly, almost in pity.
"'Kill'? Such a crude word. No—I granted my father a return to the Lord's embrace. Filled with joy, sorrow, and devotion, I offered him mercy. He was too kind to endure the sight of what comes next. To spare him, I released him."
Merlin's eyes widened slightly. Never, in all his long life, had he witnessed such a twisted creed. To hold to faith so utterly, yet to let it fester into pure malice… Humanity, it seemed, was capable of birthing horrors even he could scarcely imagine.
-End Chapter-
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