Shirou brought Atalanta Alter back to the castle without incident.
The next few days were mostly calm, but all sorts of minor problems still cropped up, such as Leticia and Atalanta raising a fuss over who would get "the right to use Shirou" that day.
Normally, Leticia was not the type to argue with other people.
But Atalanta seemed to find her especially unpleasant and kept looking for excuses to pick a fight.
Even when Shirou went over to ask her about it, Atalanta only said impatiently, "It's not that I'm targeting her in particular. I just can't stand that woman."
Honestly, women's thoughts were impossible to understand.
A week passed in no time.
For the final six days, Shirou searched for the whereabouts of the last Servant in the Material World, Semiramis, the "Red" Assassin, but turned up nothing.
He found no trace of her own activity, and even the pigeons that served as the Empress's avatars showed no unusual movement.
"As for Assassin, she might have already disappeared, you know?"
Atalanta said.
"Her Master is gone, after all. A Magus like her would have to attack ordinary people just to maintain her existence, right?
But we can't find any trace of her. Her Noble Phantasm... 'Hanging Gardens of Babylon' is still there, but now that it's become an enemy stronghold, it doesn't prove she's still in the real world."
Assassin having disappeared was indeed the more reasonable guess, but Shirou felt she was not someone who would vanish that easily.
...
...
Today, Shirou came to drink with Sisigou and Mordred.
The place was, of course, the underground crypt the two of them were holed up in, and the liquor was top-shelf stuff he had snatched from Gordes' collection.
That man's Magecraft might only be second- or third-rate, but he had a deep understanding of fine food and wine, along with a distinctive sense of taste. Maybe he would be better off giving up Magecraft and doing something else.
"Cheers!!!"
The three of them raised their glasses in unison, savoring the last of the peace.
"Man, we still didn't get the Holy Grail in the end. What a lousy deal. I never should've taken this job in the first place."
After a few rounds of drinks, Kairi Sisigou began a long string of complaints like a middle-aged office worker, while Shirou and Mordred became his audience.
"Hmph. I didn't expect Master to be even more hung up on it than I thought."
"Of course I am. I seriously wanted the Holy Grail, you know?"
Mordred turned to Shirou. "Oh, right, Father! Do you know what this guy's wish is?"
"What is it?"
"I'll give you a hint. It's the same as that noble old man from Yggdmillennia."
Darnic, huh...
Shirou thought for a moment, then said, "Could it be prosperity of descendants?"
"Correct! That's Father for you!"
Mordred laughed. "Funny, right? He's got such a scary face, but that's the kind of wish he wants to make on the Holy Grail.
I'm telling you, if you want to be popular with women like Father, you should at least get rid of the sunglasses and that tacky leather jacket first!"
"Shut up! This is my pride as a Necromancer. What would a brat like you know?"
The two drunkards started messing around in front of Shirou.
After they had tired themselves out, Sisigou quietly took a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, drew in a deep breath, and exhaled the smoke into the air.
"My ancestors... the Sisigou family isn't actually pure Japanese."
"Are we going into a flashback now?"
Kairi Sisigou ignored Mordred's jab and continued talking.
The Sisigou family seemed to have been Magi who made their way from Europe to Japan several generations ago. Even the surname itself was something they took after arriving in Japan.
At the time, the family's Magic Crest had already disappeared, and the children did not have enough Magic Circuits. Under those circumstances, moving to Japan was undoubtedly a fatal blow.
For Magi, leaving the land where their "Thaumaturgical Foundation" was rooted was exactly that kind of fatal act.
Just like the Makiri family, Shirou thought.
As expected, before even one generation had passed, the magical aptitude of their descendants declined sharply, to the point that they could no longer continue as Magi.
They could not let things go on like that. The Sisigou family might not have been a prestigious magical lineage with a long history, but they were not willing to let their path of Magecraft die out there.
And so, they chose to sell their souls.
"Think about it. Plenty of stories have that kind of plot, right? Making a pact with the demon Mephistopheles... That's exactly what our ancestors did."
Only the head of the Sisigou family at the time knew what sort of contract had actually been made in Japan.
Had it turned back time, or simply resurrected them? Or had it granted them a new Magic Crest and body? Even that much was unclear.
What they did know was that it possessed a binding force as powerful as a Self Geass Scroll, and that it did not twist the wish at all. It fulfilled it in an extremely precise way.
In short, the Sisigou family miraculously regained their strength.
Their Magic Crest was restored, even surpassing its former peak.
The quality and number of Magic Circuits that had nearly vanished increased as well, and the Sisigou family was revived as a major lineage of Magi in the Far East.
They lost their former magical theories and learned Necromancy in their place, but survival still required sacrifice.
Of course, for such a miracle to be achieved, an equivalent price had to be paid.
"That price was me."
In the end, that contract was actually a Curse.
Sacrificing the future to prioritize the present... For humans, that would be fatally foolish, but if Magi did it, there was no helping it.
Magecraft is something passed down from parents to children, generation after generation. A family's inheritance exists only to reach that one final destination, The Root.
So abandoning the "future" for the sake of the "present" might sound completely unreasonable.
But if Magecraft ended with "this generation," then there would be no "next generation" at all.
Perhaps Sisigou's ancestors had once imagined there was a chance the Curse would never arrive... Unfortunately, that hope did not come true.
Kairi Sisigou became the sacrifice. He was struck with the worst Curse imaginable for a Magus.
Kairi Sisigou cannot have descendants. "Absolutely" cannot.
Even though he had finally obtained an excellent Magic Crest, his lineage was destined to die out with his generation.
Thinking about it that way, perhaps his ancestors really had made a pact with a malicious demon back then.
"What the hell? Just adopt a kid and call it done."
"...Yeah. My family looked at it that optimistically too.
But after the adopted daughter we took in through my old man's connections died because my Magic Crest was transplanted into her, there was nothing left we could do."
She had been a distant relative who carried a small amount of Sisigou blood. The pre-transplant examination had also shown that she had extremely high compatibility, and there had been no rejection during the operation.
After they dissected the body, they only learned that the cause lay with Kairi Sisigou's Magic Crest.
The Magic Crest released a lethal toxin, and that Crest was perfectly compatible only with Kairi Sisigou's body. Once transplanted into another body, the toxin would take effect immediately.
Upon learning this, Kairi Sisigou stopped his father, who was still trying to find a way to carry out the transplant, and gave up on the idea of continuing the family legacy.
He then ran away from home and fell into life as a bounty hunter who used Magecraft to earn bounties.
In truth, from his perspective, it was a release from the responsibility that had bound him since birth.
Dying a miserable, unknown death on some job would have been fine.
The Sisigou family had enjoyed the wealth and glory of being Magi for a brief hundred years. What more could they ask for?
But then Kairi Sisigou encountered the Great Holy Grail War.
With the miracle of the Holy Grail, the poison in his Magic Crest might be erased, and he might even be able to have a child who would inherit his bloodline.
And so, Kairi Sisigou came to Romania.
"...Oh."
After Kairi Sisigou finished speaking, Mordred only muttered something vague, while Shirou said nothing.
"What's with that reaction? I just laid out a past shameful enough to be called a disgrace to my clan. Got any complaints?"
"...No. In the end, you want the Holy Grail for prosperity of descendants after all, don't you?"
Kairi Sisigou scratched his head. "If you were expecting some unbelievably moving backstory, that'd be a problem for me too."
At that moment, Shirou suddenly spoke.
"If the problem is with the Magic Crest, couldn't you just remove it?"
"..."
Mordred and Kairi Sisigou stared at Shirou in shock, but the boy continued.
"That's what Fiore did. She already transferred her Magic Crest to her younger brother.
You can't transplant the Crest to anyone else, but simply removing it should be possible, right?
You can't have children now, but even that might be caused by the poison from the Magic Crest.
Why not try?"
"That little girl from Yggdmillennia actually did something like that...? What the hell, she's got more guts than I thought..."
Kairi Sisigou muttered to himself.
He truly had never considered it.
Born as a Magus, shaped into a Magus, his very sense of self had never allowed him to imagine losing Magecraft, his means of survival.
"So what are you going to do? Keep fighting as a Magus until you die? Or live on like an ordinary person?"
Kairi Sisigou remained silent.
"Well, if you're still around to see the sun the day after tomorrow, you can give me your answer then."
Kairi Sisigou was Manaka Sajyou's savior, and Shirou still owed him a favor.
So if he could face what he truly wanted, Shirou was willing to help him.
"Oh? Are you heading back already, Father?"
Shirou stood up as he said, "Mordred, come practice swordsmanship with me. It'll help you sober up."
"Yeah! Even if my opponent is Father, I'm not going easy on you!"
"Big words. I wonder who cried after losing last time."
"Ah! That was ages ago. We agreed you wouldn't bring it up again!"
Shirou and Mordred left the underground tomb while bickering noisily.
"Father and son, huh..."
Kairi Sisigou silently watched their backs as they left.
Why had neither he nor the Sisigou clan thought to remove the Magic Crest?
It was not that they had never thought of it. It was that they "absolutely could not do that."
For Magi, having children was nothing more than a means to pass down Magecraft and the family name.
Abandoning the Crest for the sake of having a child would be putting the cart before the horse.
Did he long for a child because of a Magus's basic need to continue the family line, or was it...
Kairi Sisigou shook his heavy head and crawled into his sleeping bag.
With the sound of clashing blades coming from outside, he sank into a deep sleep.
That night, the Necromancer dreamed of his dead adopted daughter.
...
...
"Tch. He really doesn't hold back at all..."
Completely exhausted, Mordred flopped down on the grass and stared blankly at the night sky.
Even though Father had been knocking her around like a rag until just moments ago, she was still happy.
"Hey, Mordred."
"Hm?"
"Want to try?"
Shirou's words pulled Mordred out of the lingering afterglow.
Try...?
Try what?
She wanted to ask, but somewhere in her heart, the girl already seemed to know the answer.
She got up and saw Shirou thrust a golden longsword into the ground, so beautiful that it still shone even in the dead of night.
"..."
Mordred's eyes widened.
The Sword of Selection she had dreamed of stood right before her.
It was not driven deeply into the earth. All the girl had to do was walk over and pull it free.
In front of the Father she adored, she could loudly declare herself King Arthur's one true heir.
That was all she had to do.
Mordred stared fixedly at The Sword of Selection and slowly walked toward it.
One step, two steps, three steps...
She swallowed and reached for the hilt.
Just as she was about to grasp it, her hand suddenly stopped, and she drove her elbow into Shirou's chest beside her.
"Ugh... You little brat, what was that for?"
"That's my line! What are you doing, Father? Tempting me with something like this!"
Mordred planted her hands on her hips and shouted angrily.
"Guh... You hit hard. Are you getting more and more like your mother?"
Shirou rubbed his chest and sat down on the grass.
Mordred looked at The Sword of Selection right in front of her, but the longing in her eyes had vanished completely.
"Father, I don't dream of drawing The Sword of Selection anymore."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah."
Mordred nodded firmly.
After letting go of her dream, the look on her face was unexpectedly clear, and Shirou knew she truly no longer had any attachment to the dream she once held.
"Rather than saying I gave up on my dream, after seeing Father again, I finally realized...
My dream wasn't really to challenge The Sword of Selection.
I'd already be happy just picking up whatever falls from Father's hands."
Mordred narrowed her eyes and smiled faintly.
"It sounds kind of weird coming from me, but... I might actually be the happiest child in the world.
Father, I think I understand now why that woman didn't like me."
Shirou frowned. "Don't call your own mother 'that woman'... So why?"
"A woman's jealousy. A woman's jealousy."
As she said that, Mordred sat straight down in Shirou's lap and used his shoulder as a pillow.
"See? Acting spoiled with Father openly like this is something that woman could never do, no matter what."
"True," Shirou nodded.
"Father! Since we have the chance, let's badmouth Mother together," Mordred said with a cheerful grin.
"If you want to die, don't drag me into it."
The girl grumbled, "What the heck? It's been so many years, and you're still as afraid of Mother as ever.
Sigh, Britannia only fell because the King was like this."
"Wrong. Britannia fell entirely because of you, brat."
"Hehehe..."
"That wasn't praise! Reflect properly and apologize to Artoria!"
"...Fine~"
And so, in the dead of night in a foreign land, Shirou and Mordred shared a father-son exchange for the first time in ages.
The starry sky was no longer the same one from 1,500 years ago.
Even so, some things still remained unchanged across a thousand years.
...
...
It was already three in the morning when Shirou left the cemetery.
He walked through the empty streets of Sighișoara.
Just then, several pigeons suddenly flew in front of him and began circling over his head.
Of course, birds would not be active in the middle of the night for no reason. Shirou understood at once and followed them.
The pigeons' destination appeared to be the church on the mountain.
Ever since the "Red" faction had moved its base to the Sky Garden, this church had kept its doors shut and had never opened to the public again.
Shirou climbed the long flight of stairs and arrived at the church entrance.
"..."
The moment he pushed the door open, he saw Assassin lying motionless on the floor.