This mark would grant Seiji Fujiwara an absolute "ownership" that overrode the "Command Spell," that mere "temporary administrator privilege."
He would become the "hidden, true, sole master" of every Heroic Spirit that descended from this place.
He hadn't merely stolen the victory of this one Holy Grail War; he'd turned the entire "Holy Grail War" system into a fully automated factory that would endlessly produce, screen, and manufacture "premium collectibles" for him!
[Conceptual brand implanted successfully!]
[Throne of Heroes backdoor installed successfully!]
[From this moment, this world's summoning system has become the Host's private property.]
"Hah..."
Seiji slowly opened his eyes and let out a breath of stale air, a sharp glint of triumph in his eyes.
This was a long-term investment, one that returned ten thousandfold on a single outlay.
He might leave this world soon enough, but as long as this "backdoor" remained, this world would forever be his "source of troops" and his "back garden."
In the future, no matter where he was, if he wished, he could use this port to "order" any "product" he wanted.
"Let's go."
He stood and issued a new command to the three female Servants at his side.
"It's time to go take possession of our new home."
"And to deal with... the eyesore trash that's been left lying around."
...
...
Einzbern Castle, the ancient structure deep in the forest on the outskirts of Fuyuki City, which had borne the centuries-old sorrowful wishes of the Three Founding Families and the tragic history of homunculi, now had a new master.
Inside the castle, the old gloom and deathly stillness were swept away, replaced by bright windows, clean surfaces, and perfect order.
Every corner had been cleansed spotless by the magecraft of the Age of Gods, and the air even carried a faint fragrance Medea had concocted with her alchemical arts, one that helped relax the mind.
Of course, this "order" was an absolute order steeped in oppression. Here, the only will was Seiji's will.
In the castle's great hall, Seiji lounged in that enormous armchair belonging to the head of the Einzbern family, its backrest carved with ornate patterns, holding a cup of "Fairy's Tears" black tea brewed by Medea's own hand, said to slow the dispersal of one's spiritrons.
At his side stood the three greatest "spoils" of this venture, like a perfect set of statues displaying the glory of the conqueror.
Saber Alter, clad in that pitch-black armor, stood motionless in the shadow of the throne like the most loyal of royal guards.
She needed no rest, no words, not even thought.
Her very existence was a proclamation, a proclamation of the "king's" majesty and that unquestionable, absolute power.
Medea had changed into an elegant purple gown, shedding the witch's aura of battle, looking more like a learned and nobly bred lady.
She was fervently organizing, off to one side with her magecraft, the vast trove of magical materials plundered from the Einzbern family's underground library, and the research on "Third Magic soul materialization" in particular left her enraptured.
To her, to follow a "king" who far surpassed the gods and was himself the incarnation of "truth," and to conduct scholarly research at his side, was the greatest fortune of her life, something she would never have dared even to dream of before.
Rider, Medusa, however, seemed somewhat out of place.
She didn't attend at his side at all times like the other two.
Seiji had given her the largest, best-lit study in the castle, along with a single command: "Read anything you want, do anything you want, so long as you don't leave this castle."
This snake-haired demon, regarded as a "monster" in myth, surrounded all her life by fear, hatred, and betrayal, now sat quietly by the study window, a thick volume of poetry in her hands, warm sunlight spilling through the glass onto her long purple hair, lending her an unreal illusion of peaceful, untroubled days.
It was a twisted "Redemption." Seiji had given her a "home" where she was no longer seen as a monster, and the price was her loyalty and her freedom.
And to Medusa, who had long since despaired, this was perhaps already the best ending she could imagine.
"Master."
A timid voice broke the stillness of the great hall.
Sakura Matou, wearing a fitted black dress tailored just for her, walked in with slow steps.
Her complexion was still somewhat pale, but in those purple eyes that had once brimmed with fear and numbness, there was now a kind of absolute calm... something like a "program."
She walked up to Seiji, bowed respectfully, and handed over a detailed asset report.
"All of the Matou family's assets in Fuyuki City, including land, company shares, and underground channels, have completed the transfer procedures into your name. Also, as you instructed, the Tohsaka family's holdings have been fully annexed through certain legal commercial means, such as manufacturing a debt crisis and hostile takeover."
"Mm, well done." Seiji nodded with satisfaction.
He had no interest in this worldly money, but controlling the economic lifeline of an entire city was a pleasure in itself.
The Crest Worms inside Sakura's body had long since been completely replaced and controlled by his own power. The Sakura of now was more like an extension of Seiji's will, an efficient and precise "humanoid terminal" tasked with handling all the mundane affairs of this world for him, carrying his will into the world of mortals.
"As for that woman..." A trace of amusement flashed in Seiji's eyes. "Did you bring her?"
"Yes, Master. She kept resisting, so I had Lady Medea seal her vocal cords for the time being." Sakura turned slightly to the side, her tone as flat as if she were reporting some trivial matter.
Two invisible puppets woven from magecraft dragged in a petite figure.
It was Rin Tohsaka.
The once-proud genius magus, dazzling as flame and forever brimming with confidence, now looked like a phoenix stripped of its feathers and with its wings broken, utterly wretched.
Her wrists and ankles bore specially made shackles that suppressed magic, and her signature red coat was long gone, leaving only a thin white shirt stained with dust and the marks of a struggle.
Her Magic Circuits had already been completely crippled by Seiji in the crudest manner possible.
The Rin of now was only a "mortal," frailer than an ordinary person, possessing magical knowledge yet unable to wield it.
"Mm! Mm-mm!" Rin was still struggling, those blue eyes filled with unyielding rage, glaring fixedly at the man on the throne.
"Kill you?" As if he'd understood the look in her eyes, Seiji gave a soft laugh, rose from the throne, walked slowly up to her, reached out, and pinched her small, stubborn chin between two fingers with a flippant air.
"No, no, no, Miss Tohsaka. Death, for you, would be far too merciful, far too cheap an escape. That would be too boring."
His voice, like the whisper of a devil, sounded clearly beside Rin's ear.
"You see, I haven't had my fill of appreciating you yet. I still haven't seen enough of how beautiful it'll be when those proud, unyielding eyes of yours are stained with the color of despair and absolute obedience. It will surely be the most brilliant sapphire among all my collectibles."
"You... never!" Rin mouthed soundlessly in reply.
"Is that so?" Seiji released his grip and drew something from his pocket.
It was a small, faintly glimmering ruby containing immense magic. One of the gems Rin had lost during the battle.
He raised the gem before her eyes, right in front of her, and then, with two fingers, gently took that hard gem...
A sharp crack.
And crushed it into glittering red powder, devoid of any magical reaction.
"You see, the thing you take the most pride in, everything you've fought for, in my hands it's this fragile, this utterly insignificant."
He slowly blew the powder in his hand onto Rin's face.
"From today on, you are no longer a magus, nor the heir of the Tohsaka family."
"You are merely one of my collectibles. A disobedient doll-maid... who needs to be properly trained."
He did not hand her over just yet. First he wanted what was his.
He came down off the throne, crouched in front of the bound girl, and took her chin in his hand. Rin glared up at him, blue eyes still burning, the only weapon she had left. He remembered the night she had taken the poisoned Avalon from his hands and promised, so earnestly, to repay his kindness twice over.
"You said you would pay me back double," he reminded her. "Time to start."
The threads turned her, bent her over the arm of the throne. He took his time first. Ran his hands down her bared back and the curve of her ass, pulled the thin shirt off her, palmed her tits from behind and pinched the nipples till she hissed. Worked his fingers between her thighs, slow, until the proud magus was wet against her will and shaking with how much she hated it.
Then he pushed his cock into her cunt. Rin made a broken sound she would have given anything to take back. He filled her slow, all the way, one hand fisted in her black twin-tails, and fucked the Tohsaka heir over the throne of the king whose Servant he had stolen and whose war he had won. Tight and hot and furious and wet, her cunt gripping him while her mouth cursed him.
"This is what double looks like," he told her, driving deep. "You'll be paying it the rest of your life."
He used her cunt until she came on his cock with tears of rage on her face. Then he pulled out, slick, and pressed the head against her asshole instead.
Her eyes went wide. "No, not there, I've never..."
He could. He pushed into her ass slow and relentless while she screamed into the throne, taking the last place the proud Tohsaka had left, the threads holding her open and still for it. By the time he was buried to the root in her ass she had stopped making words, just broken sounds, and the fight in her had finally gone quiet. He used both her holes until he was good and finished, and when the threads dropped her to the stone, spent and gaping and hollow-eyed, he straightened his clothes and looked down at his newest collectible.
"Medea, take her away. Teach her the most basic rules, in your way."
"As you command, Master." A cruel and delighted smile spread across Medea's face.
She would be glad to personally "instruct" this Clock Tower genius in the meaning of true "despair" and "obedience."
As for Shirou Emiya...
Seiji couldn't even be bothered to deal with him.
After witnessing Saber's fall with his own eyes, and after his own ideal of being an "ally of justice" was torn to shreds by Seiji with the cruelest reality, that boy's spirit had completely collapsed.
Seiji merely had Medea quietly repair his body, which had been on the verge of breaking down from excessive projection, and then tossed him into that empty, deserted Emiya residence.
Seiji sat back down on the throne, lifted the black tea, and took a light sip.
Outside the window the sun was bright, the days peaceful and serene.
And within this castle, the most profound daily life, one that belonged to demons alone, was unfolding.
Down in the lower workshops, the training went on.
Seiji had taken his fill and handed her down, and now it was the witch's turn. Medea had waited generations for a Tohsaka to break, and she was in no hurry.
She started slow, with her hands and her mouth. She palmed Rin's tits, sucked the nipples hard, then got down between her bound thighs and ate her out, tongue on her clit and fingers fucking into her, patient and relentless. She brought the proud magus right to the edge and stopped. Watched her cunt clench on nothing. Did it again. And again, over and over, until Rin was sobbing and grinding shamelessly at empty air.
"Beg," Medea said.
"...please." It tore out of her, wrecked. The last of the ever-victorious genius. "Please, let me, I need to..."
"Good girl."
Then she let the familiars in. All of them. Coils of conjured flesh that pushed into her cunt and her ass and her mouth at once, filling every hole the Tohsaka heir had, fucking her at all three ends while Medea sat back with her wine and watched the Clock Tower genius get used like a toy on her own workshop floor, cumming over and over now that she was finally allowed to, screaming around the thing in her throat, every shred of pride wrung out of her one hole at a time.
By the time they were done with her, Rin Tohsaka knelt obedient in a thin maid's collar. Sticky, used in every hole, eyes down, the fire all gone out. When Seiji came to check on her later, she crawled to him without being told.
...
...
A week later, London, Heathrow International Airport.
A man with a haggard face, sunken eyes, and an air of indescribable exhaustion and grief radiating from his whole body, dragged a heavy silver suitcase forged by alchemy and walked with leaden steps out of the arrivals hall.
It was Lord El-Melloi II, Waver Velvet, returned from Fuyuki City.
Behind him followed Gray, her expression equally dispirited, her face buried deep in the shadow of her hood.
That "Holy Grail War" in Fuyuki City had been, for them, like some bizarre and grotesque nightmare.
No, more absurd than a nightmare, and more... heartbreaking.
The latter half of that war had completely exceeded the bounds of what they could comprehend, turning into a slaughter between gods and monsters.
"Sensei, are you all right?" Gray looked at her teacher's profile, which seemed to have aged ten years in an instant, and asked with concern.
She could feel that a part of her teacher's heart had been left forever on that burning ground.
"...I'm fine." Waver's voice was hoarse and dry, as though scoured with sandpaper.
He raised his head and looked at London's familiar, eternally gray sky, and the figure of that young man who always wore a faintly cynical smile surfaced in his mind.
The young man who, in his classroom, could always pose the most cutting, most incisive questions, who often left even a Lord like himself astonished.
The young man with a talent in magical theory that far surpassed his era, a talent one might even call monstrous, as if he could see through to the very essence of magecraft.
The young man who, before departing, had told him with an excited face, "Sensei, I'll perfectly record the entire process of the Holy Grail War, that ultimate magical ritual, and present you with the most perfect report."
Seiji Fujiwara.
He was dead.
Dead in that chaotic Holy Grail War that had degenerated, in the end, into a brawl among monsters.
Based on the fragmentary intelligence he'd gotten at the last from Kirei Kotomine, and the magical residue surveyed at the scene, terrifying enough to make even a Cause-tier magus tremble, it seemed that Seiji Fujiwara, in order to protect his "teacher," after covering Waver's retreat with Gray, had alone, with nothing but a mortal's body, challenged the polluted Grail, and in the end perished together with a rampaging, unidentified, powerful Heroic Spirit.
How... foolish.
How... regrettable!
Waver's heart felt as if it were gripped tight by an invisible hand, aching so badly he couldn't breathe.
He would rather it had been himself who died!
All his life he'd chased after that unreachable kingly figure, and he'd long been prepared to lay down his life at any moment. But that boy was different. His life had only just begun, and his future should have been more brilliant than anyone's!
If that boy were still alive, with his talent, he would surely have ascended to the summit of the magical world one day, become a "pioneer" whose name went down in history, and even truly touched that unreachable "Root"!
And now, it had all turned to nothing.
"Lord El-Melloi II."
An arrogant and ostentatious voice cut through Waver's grief.
A fair-haired, slightly plump man in exquisite attire, accompanied by several Policies Department attendants, stood haughtily blocking their path.
It was the Clock Tower's Cause-tier-designated Lord of the Policies Department, Gordolf Musik.
"Lord Musik." Waver gathered his thoughts, forced himself to rally, and gave a slight nod.
"I've heard about what happened in Fuyuki City." A formulaic regret showed on Gordolf's face, but there was more of an eagerness to it. "And I've heard about that genius from your classroom. Truly a pity. The Mage's Association has lost a pillar of talent."
His words said as much, but deep in his eyes there seemed to linger a trace of poorly concealed gloating.
After all, the El-Melloi Classroom had been riding far too high of late, enough to leave the other Lords feeling a little smothered.
"By order of the Clock Tower's Twelve Lords council, I've come to take possession of that Seiji Fujiwara's effects." Gordolf got straight to the point, making no effort to hide his purpose. "His research materials regarding this Holy Grail War in particular. To the Association, these are extremely precious and irreplaceable assets."
Waver's expression darkened.
He badly wanted to refuse, badly wanted to keep these effects, bought with his student's life, treasured in his classroom forever.
But he knew he couldn't refuse. This was the Clock Tower's decision.
In silence, he handed over the heavy suitcase in his grip, the one laid with multiple layers of protective magecraft.
"...It's all here."
Inside it were all the "research notes" Seiji Fujiwara had left behind.
They were what Seiji had personally handed him before departing, under the pretext of "in case of an accident, please keep a backup copy for me, Sensei."
Thinking back on it now, that boy had perhaps, from the very beginning, resolved himself to die.
Inside, recorded in detail, was his entirely new analysis of the "essence of Heroic Spirit Summoning," his bold conjectures on the "bugs in the Grail system and the principles of its pollution," and even... a groundbreaking theoretical model for how to "optimize" the efficiency of magic supply between Servant and Master!
Every page shone with the brilliance of genius!
Every page was enough to set off a century-long academic earthquake in the Clock Tower!