"You must be joking. You've barely trained in magecraft for over a decade—there's no way someone like you has enough mana to command a Servant."
Zouken Matou sneered with his usual sinister grin. No one could tell what he found so amusing.
"You specialize in insect magecraft, don't you? Use the Crest Worms. Implant them in me. My body is of Matou blood—it should be more compatible than Sakura's."
Makiri Yaken (formerly Matou Kariya) frowned deeply.
"Kehehe… You do realize that's tantamount to suicide?"
Zouken's smile grew darker, his eyes gleaming with grotesque amusement.
"And you care whether I live or die?"
Yaken scoffed in return.
"Hmph… Perhaps, by using Crest Worms to expand your magical circuits, the Holy Grail might recognize you in time."
"So that means... you accept the deal?"
Yaken pressed.
"I'll accept—if you survive."
Zouken let out a chilling laugh.
Crest Worms could indeed simulate the function of magical circuits, effectively turning an ordinary person into a temporary magus. But the price was excruciating.
The process involved worms burrowing into the body, gnawing at the host's flesh, transforming their life force into mana. The pain alone was unimaginable.
Very few could endure it. Most collapsed under the agony, their bodies giving out before the transformation was complete.
Sakura had already been taken—by some unknown monster or force.
But as long as Yaken accepted the Crest Worms, Zouken would gain full control over him, turning him into a puppet. Every thought, every move—his to command.
If he survived the implantation.
—
In just a few days, Yaken's hair began turning white. His skin was covered in scars. The veins under his flesh bulged and twisted, black and thick like poison running through a corpse.
Even Zouken was shocked by the transformation.
"Hard to believe he's holding on… what kind of conviction is keeping him going?"
And this was only the beginning.
Yaken's body would soon begin to deteriorate—his nerves dying off, his muscles breaking down. Eventually, he would be unable to eat solid food, sustained only through glucose injections.
By all accounts, his body should no longer be functional. And yet, he lived—propped up solely by the mana now flowing through him.
The Crest Worms continued feeding on his body, growing stronger, gradually replacing his natural circuits.
The gears of fate were quietly beginning to turn.
Perhaps… this, too, was destiny.
---
Back at the villa…
Kushuri finally let out a sigh of relief when he saw his young mistress return.
"Lady Lisephyr!"
He called out to her.
He had many questions—why she had snuck out alone at night, where she had gone—but Lisephyr's face was streaked with tears.
She didn't even acknowledge him. Marching back into her room, she slammed the door shut behind her.
"Lady Lisephyr? What happened?"
Kushuri was shaken. He knocked gently on her door.
Had something happened to her?
"Kushuri, book a flight to London. I'm going back."
Lisephyr's voice came through the door.
Maybe she should never have come to Fuyuki in the first place. If she hadn't, none of this would have happened.
"Lady Lisephyr is finally going back to London…"
Kushuri was elated.
He didn't know what had caused the sudden decision, but to him, it was the best news in days.
—
That day, Shirou Emiya was in a training room, swinging his wooden sword again and again. His clothes were soaked with sweat.
It was hard to believe a seven-year-old could be so driven.
Lately, he'd been studying various books on swordsmanship.
He had to improve quickly—and swordsmanship was essential. It wasn't enough to simply wave a sword around. Against real fighters, he'd be easily defeated without proper technique.
Shirou understood clearly—since he'd decided to involve himself in the Fourth Holy Grail War, he would inevitably face mages, and even Heroic Spirits.
And Heroic Spirits were no joke.
Mages were already formidable, but Servants? They operated on a completely different level—beyond the limits of humanity.
Especially someone like Golden Boy—one-third human, two-thirds divine. Even the strongest magus was no match for him.
Shirou's enemies would not only be mages… but Servants themselves.
He needed a solid foundation.
After training, Shirou splashed cold water on his face.
It had been days. Lisephyr still hadn't sent him a single message or made a single call.
"Was it really that bad to her…?"
Shirou began to seriously reflect.
Maybe, from her perspective, he had lied to her.
He said he was busy… and then went to the food market with another girl.
"It was such a small thing. Is it really worth getting that angry over?"
Still, even he had to admit—Lisephyr, who used to send messages and call daily, hadn't contacted him at all. Not even once.
He sighed and pulled out his little phone, hesitating… and then decided to call her.
---
On the airplane…
Lisephyr sat by the window, staring out at the drifting clouds.
She had calmed down over the past few days, and now began to wonder—had she overreacted?
Should she have listened to Shirou's explanation? Or better yet, should she have simply trusted him?
Maybe she should have just calmly asked what had happened, instead of confronting him so harshly.
But now, it was too late.
Her father already knew she was coming back. She was already on the plane.
It was too late for regrets.
"I should have stayed in Fuyuki just a little longer… It really was such a wonderful place…"
Lisephyr murmured softly.
She truly did regret acting on impulse.
When she landed at London Airport, she sat quietly in the back of the car.
In her hands, she held her little blue phone.
These past few days, she'd picked it up countless times.
And every time… she just stared at it in silence.
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