Huff... Huff... Huff...
"I know this was a bad idea!" Jaune thought as he ran through the forest, hearing footsteps coming from behind him.
He turned around and saw a pack of Beowolves chasing after him. He had no idea how to fight them. He was so close to the next village, but then he stepped on a branch, causing the Beowolves to notice him and pursue him more fiercely.
Branches whipped across his face, thorns tore at his hoodie, and every breath burned in his chest. Crocea Mors, his family's treasured sword, was strapped tightly to his back, thudding against him with each panicked step. He hadn't even unsheathed it yet. What good would a sword do if you barely had any practice with it?
"I should've trained more… I should've listened!" Jaune gasped, running out of breath.
A loud snarl sounded far too close behind him.
Nope nope nope nope!
He dove behind a thick tree just as one of the Beowolves lunged. Its claws scraped the bark where his head had been seconds earlier. Jaune yelped and scrambled to his feet, gripping the hilt of Crocea Mors with shaking hands.
"Okay... okay, Jaune, think. What would a hero do? What would Dad do? What should I do?"
The Beowolves growled, their red eyes locked onto him like a predator savoring the final moment before the kill.
The rest of the Beowolf pack surrounded Jaune, making sure that he couldn't run anymore. Jaune was sweating heavily and shaking as he desperately searched for an escape, only to find none.
Jaune took a deep breath, forcing his trembling hands to draw Crocea Mors from its sheath. As the sword came free, the metal from the sword made a noise when it came out, a sound that should have brought him comfort, but instead echoed in his ears like a funeral bell.
His grip was wrong. His stance was off. His heart pounded in his throat.
"I'm not ready for this..." Jaune thought. He knew he wasn't ready, but it didn't matter; he was in a life-or-death situation.
The Beowolf lunged again.
Jaune swung wildly.
CLANG!
Somehow, by luck or sheer desperation, his sword met a claw. Sparks flew as steel deflected the strike, but the force sent Jaune stumbling backward into the dirt. His arms ached, and his legs screamed to run again.
But something inside him whispered: No. Stand.
Another beowolf pounced from the pack, then a third. Jaune backed up against the tree, his blade held out like a ward against the darkness.
"I'm gonna die," he whispered. "This is it…"
He was done for.
He was going to die here in the forest, torn apart by Grimm, without having accomplished anything he had set out to do. This was going to be his end. No, he refused to die like this!
Jaune remembered his father's words from the week he spent training with him back at home. Those words felt like the final blow to his hopes because, after all, he wanted to be a huntsman and a hero.
"I'm sorry, Jaune, but you're just not cut out for this. Just give up," his dad said, dropping the wooden sword to the floor before leaving the room. Jaune stared at the sword on the ground with dull eyes, feeling defeated.
He remembered Saphron's words when he spoke of his dream to be a huntsman like their dad.
You're sweet, Jaune… but you don't have to be a hero to make us proud. Please don't get yourself hurt chasing something that's not meant for you."
His mother's words echoed louder than all the rest, a gentle voice that once held his dreams like something precious, but even she had begun to lose hope.
"Jaune… you've always had such a kind heart. But being a hero isn't just about courage. It's about strength, skill… sacrifice. Maybe...maybe there's another path for you."
Even she had doubted him. And maybe… maybe she was right. Perhaps they were all right.
Jaune's arms trembled. His legs buckled. The sword in his grip started to lower to the ground.
The Beowolves crept closer, jaws snapping, eyes glowing red, ready to rip his body apart.
"I'm not a hero," he whispered, voice cracking with despair. "I never was."
He clenched his teeth and then gripped his sword tightly as he looked at the pack of beowolves with anger.
Not meant for him?
Then why did his heart burn every time he saw a huntsman standing tall, defending others? Why did he instinctively reach for Crocea Mors when others turned away? Why did the stories of their ancestor fill him with such pride?
"I'm not giving up!" he roared, more at himself than at the Grimm. His shout was shaky, but fierce. Raw.
He was done listening to other people's opinions on what his dream should be. Instead, he would forge his own path.
He forced himself to stand straighter, adjusting his grip on the hilt. If this was it...If this was the end, then he'd go out fighting.
The Beowolves lunged.
Jaune swung.
Steel met claw as Jaune sidestepped the first strike. He swung his sword again, but this time it was a sloppy and wild motion that only clipped the shoulder of the second Beowolf. It yelped and staggered back.
Quickly adjusting his stance, Jaune swung his sword to the left and severed the head of one Beowolf, and turned soon as he blocked another attack from a different Beowolf. With a strong push, he sent it back.
Jaune panted, his chest heaving with exhaustion, but something had changed.
That fear he had, cold and paralyzing still there, but it no longer owned him. In its place was something warmer, harder. A stubborn ember of defiance that refused to go out.
He could still barely hold his sword correctly. He was untrained, unready.
But for the first time, he wasn't backing down.
Another Beowolf charged from the right.
Jaune twisted around, raising his shield instinctively—CLANG! The impact reverberated through his entire arm, nearly tearing the shield from his grip. He gritted his teeth as he forced the Grimm down onto the floor, then slammed the edge of Crocea Mors into the creature's side. After that, he lifted his sword and brought it down on its unprotected neck.
The Grimm screeched, black mist bleeding from its wounds as it died, leaving only black mist.
Jaune didn't know where this strength was coming from. Every part of his body screamed in pain, his muscles burned, his breath came in ragged gasps, but his heart felt like a burning flame that didn't want to die out yet. Something inside him had ignited.
Another Beowolf lunged at his side.
"Move!" he barked to himself, twisting away just in time to avoid being skewered by its claws. He retaliated with a slash across its chest, forcing it to retreat with a wounded snarl. One step, one swing at a time, he wasn't fighting like a trained warrior, but like someone who refused to die.
Then...pain.
A claw raked across his left shoulder, tearing through fabric and flesh. Jaune screamed, falling to one knee. Blood soaked through his hoodie, and Crocea Mors slipped from his fingers.
Another Grimm charged in.
Jaune, this time turned too slowly.
THWACK!
Pain bloomed in his ribs as the creature's paw slammed into him, sending him crashing against the tree. His vision blurred. The breath was knocked from his lungs. He hit the ground hard, Crocea Mors slipping from his fingers and skidding across the dirt.
"No, no!" he gasped, crawling toward it as three beowolves lunged for the kill.
The Beowolf pack started closing in.
His vision was starting to get blurry.
And then... time stopped.
Or at least, it felt like it did.
A gust of wind erupted from Crocea Mors.
The sword and shield, now lying in the dirt, shimmered with a blinding silver light. The wind howled in a spiral around them, kicking up dust, leaves, and branches, blasting the Grimm off their feet and sending them skidding across the forest floor with snarls of surprise.
And then she appeared.
Jaune looked up to see his hero, who saved him.
Standing between him and the Grimm, like a divine figure descended from the heavens, was a woman clad in white and silver. Elegant, powerful, and radiant. Her long, golden hair rippled like silk that can't be tangled or ruined, and her light eyes gleamed with calm purpose.
Her armor resembled that of a knight, plated in silver across her arms, legs, and chest. On her head, she wore a hair ornament that had an armor-like appearance. Her flowing white outfit enhanced her beauty, making her radiate like a saint.
She wielded a polearm, its white flag tightly wrapped around the shaft of the spear, with the spearhead glinting like moonlight. The base of the polearm also ended in a point, and both ends intended for war. At her hip, she carried a sheathed sword.
She turned to face him, and for a moment, Jaune felt the warmth of the flame in his heart respond to her presence as if they were connected by blood and as if he knew her from somewhere.
She smiled gently; her voice was soft like his mother's when comforting him as a child.
"My name is Jeanne d'Arc... are you my descendant?" She asked, but her eyes already knew that answer.
Jaune blinked, blood trickling down his head and shoulder, barely able to comprehend what he was seeing. The pain, the Grimm, even the light that came from Crocea Mors, none of it made sense right now. And yet, her presence here was real.
"...What?" he rasped, coughing.
The woman named Jeanne knelt beside him and reached out, her gloved hand glowing faintly as it pressed gently to his shoulder. A wave of warmth spread through his body. Not enough to fully heal, but enough to dull the pain, to keep him conscious.
"You've awakened the will that lies dormant in your blood," she said, her voice gentle yet resolute. "And with it... my spirit, resting in Crocea Mors. Your courage has brought me forth. Now, allow me to take up the mantle and fight for our cause." Jeanne's smile radiated warmth and pride, delighted that her descendant had her will to battle.
Behind her, the four remaining Beowolves began to recover, but this time their snarls were tinged with hesitation and fear. The light surrounding Jeanne felt like their natural enemy, almost as if it was magic, and the very forest that had some light began to grow near her.
Jaune opened his mouth, still too dazed to form words.
"You are not alone, Jaune Arc," she said, rising and gripping her battle flag with both hands. "And you are not weak. The fire that refuses to die in you is proof enough."
The banner unfurled in the wind, revealing a proud white flag with a symbol he didn't know but found oddly familiar, shimmering faintly with light. Jeanne's weapon gleamed with the promise of divine judgment.
"For now, rest. I will protect you."
And with that, she stepped forward into the heart of the Beowolf pack, ready to fight in her descendant's name that had awakened her for the first time.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Location: ???
From his seat, Kischur Zelretch Schweinrog watched as his chosen entertainment was finally summoned. The dead apostle smirked at the sight. Truly, the boy was the first spark to activate, which indicated that his other means of entertainment would soon be set in motion.
Using the Heroic Spirits' Saint Graph and tinkering with it was a wonderful yet terrifying experiment aimed at reincarnating a heroic spirit into a new world with the same yet different origin and death. However, multiple paths in Remnant presented a risk; one mishap could worsen the already precarious situation in that world. Despite the potential dangers, the experiment was progressing well.
The Saint Graphs have completed their purpose, and their bloodlines have scattered across the world. This is one of the remnant timelines in which this world was set to be pruned, as it lacked the means to progress. However, things changed when he had the experiment conducted on this dying world, preventing it from being pruned.
In the beginning, true magic ran rampant in this world, but it became scarce after the Brother Gods had their tantrum. Now, only scattered remnants of magic remain, and any magic wielder is considered a novice-level mage. The majority, known as Maidens, are only able to manipulate elements to their will, but in my opinion, they lack the imagination needed to harness their full potential.
Worlds like these were abandoned by the "World" or Alaya; no Counter-Guardian would ever set foot in them to offer assistance. The inhabitants were left to face whatever calamities befell them due to the foolishness and selfishness of the brother gods. That is why he chose to help this world and, with the Heroic Spirits awakened again, along with their descendants carrying the legacies left behind after their deaths, rather than through a normal Heroic Spirit summoning.
Zelretch may have abandoned his humanity long ago, but he still possessed a loose set of morals. While he often created problems, he felt compelled to help fix them, even if his methods were more about seeking entertainment than genuine concern.
The clear path forward was to advance humanity and its future, ensuring that we did not reach a dead end, as this world had eighty years ago when one of Mistral's kings died unexpectedly from an illness. This abrupt end to his reign occurred long before it was supposed to, especially during the Faunus-Human Revolution War, until Zelretch had to intervene in it a bit.
In theory, the Saint Graph reincarnates with families that have a strong connection to it. One such individual is Jaune Arc, who stands out because he has observed many other versions of himself throughout history, whether they were villains, psychopaths, heroes, saints, or revolutionaries. These different Jaune Arcs possess the ability to leave a significant mark on history.
"Ah, it appears that Jaune Arc is the first to awaken. How delightful! The age of heroes in Remnant has finally begun, and countless paths will unfold before us. But fear not; you are not alone in this endeavor. After all, where there exists good, evil is sure to follow. Heh, how wonderfully chaotic! I can hardly wait to see how this tale will twist and turn." Zelretch's smirk widened, relishing the unfolding drama of this world.
In Zelretch's opinion, this approach limited the amount of power one could harness from the Saint Graph of the Heroic Spirits. He didn't want the world to be destroyed or corrupted. Therefore, he ensured that the spirits could pass down their abilities, but they would also need to train their bodies, minds, and wills to maximize their potential.
Moreover, individuals like Jaune must be placed in serious situations to unlock their abilities from the Heroic Spirits. Nothing is given for free; it must be earned. This is why the reincarnated Heroic Spirits are born in one of the Four Kingdoms, where they can connect deeply and fall in love with their destined partners, thereby avoiding any problems for the world or its people. This union leads to the birth of their descendants, one of whom is Jaune Arc.
Which one of them has awakened from their slumber from the Ruler Class, using the weapon they left behind after their death? In Jaune's case, it was Jeanne d'Arc's weapon, which has since been reformed and detailed with additions representing the Arc family in the years that followed.
Jeanne D'Arc, the Ruler Class servant. She was a common farmer's daughter. She claims she had received the command of God to fight. She heard the Lord's lament that the world changed straight into hell. The Lord wept into sorrow as no one could stop it, and people were not even allowed to live, and were compelled to become either beasts or food. She responded by throwing away her life as a simple villager and the joy of loving someone and being loved back.
Furthermore, Zelrect believes that Jeanne's death played a pivotal role in helping the Faunus win the war. In this timeline, they were initially destined to lose, which was not meant to happen. Her sacrifice, however, paved the way for a new legacy, one that belongs to a Faunus.
Her death in Remnant was similar; she was burned on the cross by humans for being accused of being a witch. This was particularly harsh after she had joined the Faunus to support them during the Faunus-Human Revolution. Despite her significant contributions to Mistral's side during the Great War, the humans did not care about her achievements and still labeled her a witch.
During her execution, scorned by words of damnation as she was led to the pyre and feeling only slightly pained as she endured it, she had already abandoned emotions such as fear, disappointment, and regret from the outset of her battles, so she was able to walk towards her death without faltering in her steps. Her death in this world angered the Faunus and even the King of Mistral before his death.
Zelrect would like to say that Jeanne's death helped the Faunus win the war, as in this timeline, they were destined to lose, which wasn't supposed to happen. This also brought in the next legacy, which is a Faunus in Jaune's timeline.
Atalanta, the Archer Class Servant, Abandoned by her father for being born a girl rather then a male heir to his throne, rescued by the Moon Goddess, making a name for herself as one of the greatest hunters in all the lands, forced to marry by her father, tricked into marriage by a suitor and a cruel goddess of love despite her bow of charity to the Moon Goddess that saved her.
In Remnant, Atalanta faced a challenging situation in her early life when her father abandoned her because she was a female and a faunus. She was later rescued by a group of faunus relocating. In Atalanta's mind, she was not only saved by them but also by a goddess who helped her survive until the group found her. All she knew was that the goddess was Artemis, the goddess of the moon.
Later in life, during the Faunus-Human Revolution, she became one of the leaders and commanders who instilled fear in humans. However, to the Faunus and children, she was a savior and a sister. When a human named Jeanne D'Arc joined their cause, her death drove Atalanta to the brink of madness toward humans. Yet, her sacrifice was not in vain, as they ultimately won their rights. In this timeline, Atalanta would later marry and have children with the person she loved.
Constantine XI, the Rider Class Servant, was the last emperor of the Byzantine Empire, also known as the Eastern Roman Empire. His death and the fall of the capital city, Constantinople, marked the ultimate end of the great empire of Rome. In the final moments of his reign, he fought valiantly until his last breath. The Byzantine Empire, once a flourishing capital of trade, saw decline even before the religious conflicts between East and West, and even before the fierce attacks of the Ottoman Empire.
By the time Constantine ascended to the throne as emperor, his dominion had already stooped to consist solely of Constantinople and its environs.
In Remnant, Constantine XI served as the crown prince of the Kingdom of Mistral and later became its last emperor before his death. His reign marked the transition to an era of kingdoms without kings, governed instead no longer needing a king or queen. During his time, he transformed Mistral into one of the most prosperous kingdoms, excelling in trade, finance, and agriculture. However, this period of prosperity ended with the Great War and the Faunus-Human Revolution.
He witnessed the death of Jeanne d'Arc, which filled him with anger and sadness. It was a distressing sight to see, and he held accountable those responsible for her death. He made sure they suffered for burning a saint who was never a witch, but simply a woman who wanted to help her kingdom and the faunus. With his power as king, he declared her a Saint of Mistral, despite opposition from others.
In his tragic final year, due to an illness, he was able to father children with a woman he loved. Unfortunately, Constantine passed away before the birth of his children. Thus, a new era began—an era of kingdoms without kings, governed instead by Kings or Queens.
Fuuma Kotarou is a Servant of the Assassin Class and was the fifth person to hold this title. They served as a successor to Houjou Souun, specifically Ujitsuna. Their original name comes from their village, Kazama. Typically, they earned their living through hunting, lumberjacking, and cultivating small fields. However, when undertaking missions, they would refer to themselves as "Fuuma," and their fearsome reputation spread throughout the land.
Unlike Japan's more well-known ninja clans, such as the Iga and Koga, there is limited documentation on the Fuuma. One major reason for this lack of information may be the dissolution of the Houjou family, which they served, during the Warring States period. As a result, details about the specific ninja tools used by the Fuuma remain uncertain.
The origins of the Fuuma are also unclear; the circumstances that led them to settle in the Kazama Valley are largely unknown. One theory suggests that they were an equestrian tribe that immigrated from the continent. The Fuuma themselves were secretive about their origins. Regardless, they were widely feared due to their remarkable group tactics, with Fuuma Koutarou serving as their chief.
Fuuma Koutarou is descended from foreigners and, at the same time, also has the blood of the Oni kind mixed in his veins. For the sake of surviving that turbulent war period, the clan performed a thorough match manipulation and gave birth to him as the greatest masterpiece of "shinobi" - the leader of the Fuuma. An inborn chief and shinobi, the Fuuma party would thus welcome one summit
in Remnant's timeline. Fuuma Koutarou was born in the village of Kuroyuri, which was typical of most villages, earning its living through hunting, lumberjacking, and farming. However, Koutarou's clan was also made up of shinobi. He was raised as the fifth Fuuma by Katou Danzo during his childhood in the village.
During the ten years following the Faunus-Human Revolution, Fuuma Koutarou played a significant role in assisting the Faunus and combating bandits, which helped solidify their clan's place in the world with his impressive and feared techniques. Among his peers, he is recognized as a legendary figure, gaining notoriety as a thief even after the establishment of the Faunus Rights Era.
In the years that followed, Fuuma Koutarou had children and depended on Katou Danzo and his wife to help care for them while he was away on missions. He later passed down his techniques to his sons and daughters, ensuring they could contribute to the world as shinobi. In the future, however, Fuuma Koutarou's descendant would witness the destruction of his village, as well as the broken body of his caretaker and the deaths of his family.
Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova, The Caster Servant, Anastasia was the fourth daughter of Tsar Nicholas II and Alexandra of the Imperial House of Romanov in Russia. Nicholas II ruled for around 300 years and was the last Romanov to hold the title of tsar, making Anastasia the last imperial princess of the dynasty. Although Nicholas was a moderate ruler who raised his children with love, he was often unaware of the harsh realities of Russia due to his upbringing steeped in the traditions of the Tsars. Alexandra lived a life typical of a noblewoman, characterized by idealism.
Anastasia was known to be a lively girl who often caused mischief, such as climbing trees. Despite her playful nature, she was also caring and looked after her sickly younger brother, Alexei. From a young age, she believed she could hear the voice of Viy, suggesting that she was the rightful heir to her family's magecraft instead of her father.
In April of 1918, the new administration feared that the Tsar might be reinstated to power by the Czechoslovak Legion or the White Army. Consequently, they decided to execute the Imperial family. The day before their death, Alexei revealed to the Imperial household the existence of a fairy named Viy and her role and history. However, Anastasia chose not to make a contract with the fairy. Although the administration wished to hold an official trial, they felt compelled to act quickly due to the perceived threat posed by the Tsar. As a result, they executed the Imperial family and their servants in secret at the Ipatiev House.
As Anastasia was dying, she contracted with Viy, not as a means to save her life, but as a means of killing those who wronged her. The soldiers stripped the clothes from her body, chopped her body into pieces, burned her to ash with gasoline, poured sulfuric acid over the bones, and buried the ashes in the ground. Retaining some sense of consciousness through Viy throughout the event, she cursed the soldiers such that they would never know peace
In Remnant's timeline, Anastasia was born a noble and was still a lively girl living in the Kingdom of Atlas. She belonged to one of the higher-ranked noble families in this timeline. Her family was known for mining and selling dust, which established their reputation across all kingdoms. Throughout her life, Anastasia could hear the voice of Viy, which was unusual. She made a contract with Viy to support her family and their descendants if they ever faced adversity in the future.
In the future, Anastasia would be pleased to see that her family line had continued and was doing fairly well. However, there was one small detail that annoyed her—a pesky little ant married into the family that made her want to freeze its body and get rid of it.
Ibaraki-douji, the Berserker Class Servant, is one of the oni who appeared in the Imperial Capital during the Heian period. She was known for carrying out numerous atrocities. Ibaraki-douji is often regarded as a subordinate of Shuten-douji, who resided in Mount Ooe. During the "Oni Extermination of Mount Ooe," led by Minamoto-no-Raikou and her Four Heavenly Kings, Ibaraki had a fierce battle with Watanabe-no-Tsuna, one of the Four Heavenly Kings. Due to her stories and historical significance, she is classified as an "Anti-Hero."
In Remnant's timeline, her story is the same but way long before the Great War and Human Faunus Revolution, after all, it was said that Oni's were a legend and weren't real until they appeared during the time where there was no Kingdoms only villages and towns Ibaraki-douji was born from a Great God that was named by the oni's Great God Ibuki of Mount Ibuki (Which the mountain would later be called Mount Glenn), that is, Yamata no Orochi, and a human.
Despite her formidable power, the strong and pleasure-seeking Shuten-douji had no interest in commanding the swarm of Oni herself. To Shuten, the only one worthy of leading the Oni drawn to her as the "master who controls the mountain" was her equal, Ibaraki-douji, and no one else.
Ibaraki-douji, who had established a grand palace at Mount Ooe, cherished Shuten-douji as her "sworn sibling," raised alongside her. Ibaraki was the one who commanded a group of Oni, each capable of matching a thousand warriors, and who had ruled ancient Kyoto with an iron fist. She was known as a "raging Oni" who instilled deep terror in the hearts of the people.
Ibaraki-douji's status as an Oni is highly ranked; a sharp-witted and fierce commander whose strong point is guerilla warfare. If one thinks about it, together with her army of Oni, she should have crushed any kind of strength from the humans. (That's what she thought)
The one thing that tore down Ibaraki-douji's stronghold is none other than the pleasure of Shuten-douji, her sworn sibling whom she should love more than anything. For the sake of speaking with a strong human with a cane, Shuten had guided the human into her stronghold, and even while knowing it was poison, she had drank the Providential Oni Poison. It was the height of pleasure for Shuten-douji. And Ibaraki-douji failed to stop her, which caused Shuten Doji's death by getting beheaded.
Ibaraki-douji, the sole survivor of Mount Ooe's Onis, attacked the human with a cane in a village and ended up having her arm cut off. Though her severed arm was temporarily taken as a spoil of war, Ibaraki-douji later managed to retrieve it before disappearing to an unknown location.
Later in life, Ibaraki-douji was said to be the last remaining Oni in Remnant and was believed to have died from old age. But is that really true?
Finally, Zeltrect's favorite Heroic Spirit from the Saber class was one he had to acquire. He had interacted with this man's vessel several times, sending him and the Tohsaka girl to various places for his entertainment.
Senji Muramasa, the Saber Class Servant, A swordsmith from Kuwana in Ise Province, is famed within the region. By the time of the Bunki era, he held the title of Uemon-no-jō. He is believed to be the founder of a swordsmith school known for producing the sharpest katana during the Sengoku era. Although there are documents from the Edo period that attribute the founding of the Muramasa school to a figure from the Jōji era, with claims of three generations continuing until the Ōei era, the oldest confirmed sword from the Muramasa school dates back to the first year of the Bunki era. For this reason, the Muramasa from that period is considered the founder in the original accounts.
Legend has it that he forged a demon sword that opposed the Tokugawa clan. Stories circulate about his katana, including one that allegedly killed Tokugawa Ieyasu's grandfather, another that Nobuyasu used to commit suicide, and one that reportedly cut Ieyasu himself.
In Remnant's timeline Senji Muramasa was born into a bladesmith family In the Kingdom of Vale and was held to be a prodegiy in making swords and was a stingy guy with swords as if one was even dented or even no 100% hard work he would toss it away as a failure which made many bladesmith's hate him thinking it was his pride.
Later in life, Senji traveled from kingdom to kingdom to learn from various bladesmiths and their techniques. His goal was to create the ultimate sword, a katana capable of purging hate. This extraordinary weapon would cleave through fate, destiny, and karma, eliminating the very causes of one's problems.
Even after marrying a woman with silver eyes—one of the happiest moments of his life—Senji experienced joy with the birth of his children and the opening of a school. However, everything began to unravel later on as he realized he was running out of time. His dream of creating the ultimate sword began to fade along with his life, which strained his marriage and led to a complete disconnect from his wife, children, and grandchildren.
Although he tried to convince himself that he didn't mind their absence, that was a lie. He was determined to create the ultimate sword, and just before his death, he finally completed it—only to pass away before he could fully finish his vision.
Zelretch observed the world with a sly grin, fully aware that these Servants could cultivate growth beyond what was deemed natural. This world was intended for pruning, yet his insatiable curiosity pushed him to engage in yet another audacious experiment. After all, with Heroic Spirits venturing into this realm—some having enjoyed triumphant lives, while others bore the weight of tragedy—he couldn't help but muse over the chaos that would ensue. How would the world react to the descendants of legendary heroes from ages past? How magnificently would they rise and thrive for the sake of humanity?
With anticipatory delight, he leaned back to witness the unfolding narrative. Jaune Arc—ah, yes—he was the spark igniting the flame for others to awaken, and a question danced in his mind: Who else would join this intriguing tapestry of destiny?