[Bonus Chapter 1]
Even though it was only a soul, there was no doubt, the Holy Lord was terrifyingly powerful.
As a villain who dominated from beginning to end, the level of might he possessed was on a whole different plane from anything Roland had ever encountered.
"What a shame. If it had been the complete Holy Lord…"
The thought crept up uninvited, but Roland quickly dismissed it with a scoff. People who believed themselves invincible usually met the dumbest ends.
Besides, if the Holy Lord were whole, his impact wouldn't just end with a flashy soul contract. The world itself would probably be kneeling by now. In contrast, the current state, where cost and ability are almost one-to-one, is far more manageable.
"But this digestion requirement…"
Roland's expression turned thoughtful.
This was the first time he'd contracted a red-level, high-risk spirit. Compared to Kira Yoshikage, whose contract terms were clear, the Holy Lord's condition "resurrection" was vague and cryptic.
Resurrection?
What did that even mean? His own soul had already been sublimated into a demonic soul, and his physical body was intact. How exactly was he supposed to just "resurrect"? What was he, Jackie Chan? Should he start collecting twelve talismans?
But that was impossible. The Holy Lord had already lost his body and talismans when he became a contracted spirit. So how would any of that help now?
As Roland wracked his brain, a thought struck him.
"Since I can't figure it out... why not just ask the one who knows?"
Among the many powers granted by the Soul of the Holy Lord, the one that fascinated Roland the most was undoubtedly 'Worn A Thousand Wisdoms'
While most people were mesmerized by the idea of wielding the twelve talismans, they overlooked one truth: the Holy Lord had never been a simple brute. He was a terrifyingly powerful demonic sorcerer.
He knew the secrets of the Book of Time. He could break the seals used to bind him. He knew how to open the gates of hell and had personally compiled spellbooks harnessing the power of the Shadow Kingdom. In terms of magical mastery and cosmic understanding, he was near the top.
Sadly, millennia of imprisonment in the corrupted dimensions of hell had worn his mind to tatters. While the wisdom remained immense, it was dulled, leaving only fragmented memories and instincts.
But 'Worn A Thousand Wisdoms' did not simply insert memories into Roland's mind. It merged with his subconscious, quietly injecting ancient knowledge into his thoughts, instincts, and deductions.
When confronted with unknowns, this wisdom could gently guide him to the answer.
When facing unfamiliar magic, it could break it down, analyze its components, and reconstruct its structure for him.
In a sense, Roland had become the natural enemy of all magi.
So, who better to understand the concept of "resurrection" than the Holy Lord himself?
He didn't need to search long. The answer surfaced immediately:
—To have a true body.
It wasn't as simple as just being alive. The Holy Lord's soul could not be housed in a mere mortal shell. It needed a vessel befitting its nature, a divine draconic form, like the one Daolong possessed.
That feeling in the mirror earlier… that wasn't just a trick of the mind. It was the soul rejecting the body that failed to match its nature.
If the discrepancy had grown any further, Roland suspected his soul might've slipped from his body entirely.
"This time… I really am not human anymore," he muttered.
And as for obtaining a fitting body? He didn't even need the Thousand Wisdoms to point the way.
In the Holy Grail War, Servants relied on magi to exist. But if they acquired a real body, they could remain in the world indefinitely. That was what "resurrection" truly meant.
Becoming flesh again, independent of the Grail, unbound by the system.
And if that wasn't enough, the third method of materializing a soul also known as the 'Third Magic' the one used by the Greater Grail itself, was far more tempting.
No wonder the Holy Lord's soul had once created massive fluctuations in the worldline during the last war. Even in a weakened state, the spirit instinctively yearned for incarnation.
"The perfect vessel is one molded directly from the soul," Roland murmured. "Looks like I really do have a reason to win this war."
With that, he turned to Sakura.
"Sakura, begin preparations for the summoning ritual."
Although Roland had never performed a ritual like this before, with the Holy Lord's wisdom guiding him, setting up the summoning circle in the adjacent storage room was surprisingly easy.
Sakura stood in position, nervous but obedient. Her role was simple, serve as the mana battery.
Now came the matter of the catalyst.
Opening the box Matou Zouken had given him, Roland discovered an ornate dagger. A round jade was embedded in the end of the hilt, making the weapon look more like a ceremonial staff than a practical blade.
But it was exquisite.
"Magic Sword of the Element User?" Roland raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Among magical relics, this one was unforgettable, also known as the sword that stabs its own master. A little poetic, perhaps.
Was Matou Zouken trying to send him a message?
Roland thought for a moment, then shook his head. Tōsaka Tokiomi isn't dead yet, so it can't be that.
Besides, coming from Matou Zouken, this probably was the real deal.
In fact, the blade had been crafted by the Heroic Spirit himself
Paracelsus von Hohenheim, the father of modern alchemy.
As a Caster-class servant, the man's abilities were no joke. He had created the Philosopher's Stone and brought alchemy to a new height.
But he had... quirks. And with the Holy Grail's connection to the Root, Roland wasn't about to let anyone else get that wish.
"I'm not handing that chance to anyone," he muttered, his smile fading.
He did have another holy relic, Avalon, but it would likely summon the Flower Magus, and Roland wasn't interested in that.
His own power had already surpassed most Heroic Spirits. What he needed wasn't strength, it was loyalty and versatility.
He couldn't afford a rogue element.
"Too much hassle," Roland muttered, glancing at the completed summoning circle. "Isn't there a faster way to find a suitable relic?"
Then, a spark of inspiration.
He remembered the scene in the original story, when Xiao Yu, as the queen of the Shadow khans, made absurd demands, and her dark ninjas fulfilled them without question.
Snapping his fingers, Roland issued the command to two ninjas rising from his shadow.
"Find a suitable relic."
There was no hesitation. They vanished, melting into the darkness.
In the next instant, they returned, so fast that it was as if they'd never left.
But this time, they held something in their hands.
A sheepskin, thick, golden, and glowing like sunlight. Even in the pitch-dark room, it radiated a dazzling brilliance.
It was majestic. Flawless. Powerful.
Roland's eyes narrowed.
"…The Golden Fleece?"