Beneath the rain, candles were lit inside the corridor rooms of the ancient manor courtyard. Illuminated by candlelight and the gleam of gold and silverware, the residence of the rising alchemist noble family of Britain—the Musik household—appeared especially regal and opulent.
Along the inner corridors of the courtyard, countless homunculi with unnaturally flawless features, dressed in uniforms and wielding standard long-handled battle axes, hurried past.
Tension saturated every corner of the manor, the air itself thick with an inexplicable suffocation.
Outside the Gothic structure at the center of the courtyard, the flickering candle flames faintly lit the servants' faces.
On the corridor floor, dozens of homunculi tasked with guarding the Musik family's storage vault lay in shredded heaps.
The overwhelming stench of blood assaulted the nose of every visitor. At the vault entrance, indescribable piles of flesh were heaped—so mangled that they no longer resembled anything human.
Any ordinary person who saw such a scene would likely vomit on the spot.
Bones, entrails, chunks of flesh, and a rancid mix of stomach acid and bile were splattered all over the ground. Aside from the scattered remnants of tattered clothing, there was no way to tell that these had once been people.
Yet the elegant-faced servants acted as if they were unaffected, meticulously organizing, separating, extracting, and wiping away the blood and remains.
Step step step—!
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed.
"What happened? What happened?! What the hell happened?!"
"You useless fools!"
"I leave for one moment, and now you're telling me the family estate has been attacked?!"
Surrounded by his family's attendants, a furious young man came running.
He was still relatively young, not very tall, and from his slightly plump frame and arrogant expression, it was clear he was an overconfident man.
His identity was unmistakable—the second-generation head of the Musik family after their departure from the Yggdmillennia clan and relocation to Britain: Goredolf Musik.
Aside from being younger, clean-shaven, and having a slightly different hairstyle with a smaller belly, he looked like he had been stamped out of the same mold as his father, Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia.
In one worldline of a certain universe, Goredolf would go on to purchase Chaldea and become the new Director of the Human Order Security Organization—achieving feats his father could never have dreamed of.
He imprisoned all of Chaldea's personnel, conducted interrogations, and had all of Ritsuka Fujimaru's summoned Heroic Spirits dismissed and returned to the Throne.
Surely, his father's spirit in heaven would feel "comforted" by such deeds.
After all, in the Romania Holy Grail War, his old man had been humiliated time and again—bullied by Heroic Spirits, even climbed over by his own homunculi. He had ended up more mascot than magus.
"My lord, the family vault has been robbed!"
"What?! Damn it!"
Dressed in a well-tailored noble outfit, Goredolf covered his nose with a handkerchief. Ignoring the stench, he rushed across the blood-soaked floor and through the shattered doors of the magical vault.
His expression was grim, as if frozen by ice.
The dark cloud between his brows couldn't be hidden.
The homunculi servants around him didn't even dare to breathe too loudly—no one wanted to provoke his wrath.
"Inventory the damage!" he growled through gritted teeth.
He stepped into a chamber cloaked in layers of complex magical barriers.
Inside the vault, several attendants were crouched next to the corpses of the homunculi guards. One of them dipped a finger in blood and brought it close to his nose.
"Time of death predates that of the guards outside the vault."
"No resistance, instant kill. Likely a sneak attack."
"The intruder's mastery of barrier magic is extremely advanced. All our defensive, retaliatory, and alarm barriers were silently bypassed."
One of the elite homunculi who had accompanied Goredolf into the vault also knelt by a corpse. Using his finger, he measured the cavity in two of the bodies' chests, then compared it to another corpse with a large chest wound. After a moment, his expression grew grave as he stood.
"Very strange. There are no signs of external breach..."
"The intruder attacked from inside the vault outward? How was that even possible? There's no way conventional magical means could bypass our detection so silently."
Judging by the traces at the scene, the thief had used highly advanced magical techniques to directly locate and infiltrate the vault. Initially, the intruder had acted with great caution, causing no disturbances—the guards noticed nothing.
But from the flow of events, it seemed that once the thief had secured their target, their demeanor changed completely. They abandoned stealth and stopped concealing their actions entirely...
Though no one wanted to admit it, the reality was clear: had the thief not revealed themselves, even if they had walked away with stolen goods, the Musik family's homunculi might never have noticed.
But why had the thief revealed themselves? It made no logical sense.
Was it a deliberate taunt aimed at the Musik family? Or perhaps the thief was overcome with emotion after obtaining the item and, in that moment of triumph, slipped up and chose to stop hiding, going on a rampage from within.
And for someone capable of this level of infiltration and magic?
"Could the intruder have been a Lord above the rank of 'Color'?"
"Impossible! Our family maintains stable ties with all twelve Lords. Moreover, we fall under the Barthomeloi family of the Department of Law and Politics. Anyone with a brain wouldn't dare..."
As he stormed deeper into the vault, Goredolf gritted his teeth and growled. Yet as he spoke, his voice began to falter.
Pushing past racks shrouded in magical wards, Goredolf trembled as he opened the door at the deepest part of the vault. Instantly, the world spun around him.
By the light of the magecraft lantern, he could see it clearly: the storage cabinets lined up neatly, untouched. No magical artifacts had been stolen.
But that was precisely what terrified him.
Had magical artifacts been stolen or damaged, he would have preferred it.
Because the fact that none of these finished magecraft items were taken meant the intruder had no interest in these "low-grade creations."
They had come for something more valuable.
Goredolf knew full well—within the Musik family, the only thing more precious than the contents of this entire vault was the greatest legacy his father, Gordes, had left behind:
A divine gift.
His vision darkened. Staggering, he clutched his chest and gasped, then roared, "What did the thief take?!"
"The former patriarch's relic..."
It's over...
That was the only thought running through Goredolf's mind.
According to his father, the divine relic bestowed during the Romania Holy Grail War had a unique restriction: it could only be accessed by a single individual. The knowledge within, tied to alchemy, was non-transferable.
"Gordes... at the end of the Romania Holy Grail War, Her Majesty self-destructed and exited the stage. With the strongest contender gone and no common enemy left, the Yggdmillennia clan broke into civil war to fight over the sole Greater Grail wish slot..."
"That bastard Darnic never had good intentions! From the start, every Master from the Yggdmillennia clan who participated—including myself—had been tampered with!"
"But… hmph! That Darnic had no honor or integrity. He even ordered Lancer Vlad III to use his reviled, corrupted power."
"Taking advantage of the internal chaos, I managed to escape. As for Saber Siegfried, I used up the remaining Command Spells and let him pursue his ideals."
"Want to know who won in the end? Haha... I don't even know. I just remember the all-consuming flames that rose into the sky."
"The Greater Grail, the Root... Let them fight over it. Because I already obtained what I wanted."
...
"Gordes, my abilities are limited. My magical aptitude only allowed me to read the surface-level alchemy knowledge granted by the divine."
"But you, Gordes, you're my son. Your magical talent exceeds mine. I believe you will accomplish far more than I ever could."
"You think you're something special, but you're just a copy of me. Honestly, not good enough. Gordes, stay humble and reverent!"
"The student surpasses the master. I believe, one day, our Musik family will fully grasp the knowledge gifted by the divine. When that time comes, even among the Twelve Lords and the Three Great Noble Families, the Musik name will stand proud."
...
His father's teachings, advice, and hopes flashed vividly in Goredolf's mind.
But with the artifact now missing, the foundation for all future plans had crumbled to dust.
It had been hidden away in the heavily guarded family vault to prevent assassination and theft. And yet, it had still been taken.
If only he'd carried it with him!
"Quick! Prepare a carriage..." Goredolf turned sharply and commanded, "Contact Lord Barthomeloi! The Musik family is facing an emergency!"
Goredolf wasn't too worried about being abandoned by the Barthomeloi. After all, losing the vessel of divine knowledge didn't mean the Musik family had lost their alchemical capabilities.
Even without the vessel, the magic tools they could currently produce relied on knowledge already internalized. Future production was still possible.
However, without the complete, structured, higher-level alchemy knowledge accessible via the divine relic, the Musik family could no longer progress at their previous pace.
So Goredolf planned to blow this matter wide open.
If he couldn't have it, no one could! Even if it meant destruction!
He was well aware of his limitations—the thief's magical prowess far exceeded his own. That's why he decided to invoke the authority of the Barthomeloi.
"Yes, my lord..."
...
"How vexing, that someone so talentless should receive the favor of a god..."
Far from the Musik estate, on the banks of the Thames, on a tall building, the air twisted.
High above, the wind and rain hissed sharply through the sky.
As the camera panned in, it was as if a lotus bud had bloomed through the gray clouds. The falling rain, backlit by the soft red-gold glow, appeared even more vivid.
Clack clack clack!
As the metallic lotus device shifted, a single point of golden light rose from its center. From within the blooming lotus-shaped artifact container, a brilliant burst of light shot upward—
A small double-headed eagle emblem, dazzling and radiant, launched into the air.
It looked like the emblem was trying to escape—but a swiftly clenched hand caught it tight.
Standing on the skyscraper, a man wore a green overcoat and a tall green top hat. His black, slim boots struck the floor as he stood with unkempt hair ruffling in the wind.
But his condition didn't seem good. Several fingers on his right hand were missing, and there was a gaping wound in his abdomen.
Yet he appeared completely unfazed. The exposed flesh on his body squirmed as if alive. Under the golden-purple glow, his muscles and bones visibly regenerated, blood vessels reappeared, and soon, even his skin and clothing restored themselves.
"Hmph! A counterattack ritual? Musik family... such a crude implementation!" The man opened his cold, inhuman eyes.
A mad grin twisted his face as he turned to look in the direction of the Musik estate. Red-black magical energy burst from his palm with a crack as he slowly crushed the lotus-shaped protective artifact.
Once done, he gazed ecstatically at the glowing golden double-headed eagle emblem, which radiated a beautiful violet light.
"Ah, divinity... Yes, this sculpture is indeed the work of a god."
"A mere scavenger's war managed to lure a true deity to descend and even leave a blessing."
"Who would've thought such a lucky observation would yield this unexpected treasure. Hahahaha—!"
Beneath his absurd green hat, the man revealed a savage, beast-like expression. Even the most oblivious onlooker would realize—this man was not sane.
"An anomalous domain ruled by an outer god! Chaldea, come and try to stop me!"
"Chaldea, you cannot prevent the return of the King!"
"The Age of Gods will return! It will—hahahahaha!"
...
Elsewhere, Selene tore open the fabric of reality. Using Mine as a conduit and the stabilized network pathway she had established, she easily located the Type-Moon world's version of a "factory recruitment flyer."
"Tch. Getting pretty skilled at this, huh?"
It was probably due to Mine, Selene herself, and later, Selene's efforts to lower suspicion by periodically sending over epic tales of Imperial war heroes. The Type-Moon side must've thought they were making a killing off the deal.
They were practically falling over themselves with enthusiasm.
Well, no need to hold back then. Selene, now very well-practiced, began to send over another fresh "batch" of heroic epics in the most natural way possible.
To put it simply, in one sentence:
Hey, you there? Got new, reliable heroes (read: tools). Want some?
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