[Point of View: Yuji Itadori]
Four hundred and twenty-three years.
That was the exact time my heart beat in the world of the living before I decided that was enough. I didn't die in battle, nor succumb to illness, nor was I killed by a special grade curse. I simply... lived too long.
I had outlived everyone. Megumi, Nobara, Maki, Yuta. Everyone I ever called friends, teachers, or companions. I even outlived their children and grandchildren. I was left behind, like a lonely monument in a cemetery the world had forgotten. I became the "strongest" of all time, "a prodigy" far stronger than Ryomen Sukuna and Satoru Gojo, and with that, I inherited the same curse of absolute solitude.
I did my job. And how I did it. After Maru achieved his goal—changing the colors of the Cursed Spirits, Rumelians, and Kalyans so they could be distinguished from one another, and ensuring that the Cursed Spirits would not be mistaken for Kalyans by the Rumelians—as well as reducing the Cursed Energy of all humans and Rumelians to non-Japanese levels for new births to ensure a future free of curses for future generations, and "exorcised" all the cursed spirits on the planet that were still alive—though, of course, that didn't prevent the birth of new cursed spirits.
So after I had my honest talk with Nobara and, as an extra, Panda.
I dedicated myself to hunting the remaining trash that hadn't died from Maru's CT and any curse that was born. I began again to eradicate almost all the cursed spirits left on the planet, or at least all the ones I found.
And while hunting, I became a myth, a hooded shadow that solved problems ordinary humanity didn't even know they had.
But after a couple of centuries, the work became boring. Exasperating, even. Watching humanity make the same mistakes, seeing new world wars flourish, seeing how human evil generated so much fear and hatred, which caused more curses (though at least none of special grade).
Fortunately, peace between the aliens and humanity held while I served as a neutral mediator. But putting that aside…
One day, I got tired of it all and decided to take a vacation. A long vacation lasting a couple of decades, living in the mountains, tilling the soil, trying to find some peace of mind (only being called upon for diplomatic meetings between the aliens and humans).
So during my travels around the world and even on my vacation, I kept learning and making myself stronger if I could. I practiced techniques that took me some decades to perfect, to turn my very being, my soul, and my aged body, into a Cursed Object.
The plan was simple: "sleep." Wait for some young sorcerer in the distant future to find me, consume me, and inherit my power to protect his era, while I remain in the depths of his consciousness, offering occasional advice and finally resting. Since I couldn't trust anyone with the parts of my body that would become cursed objects—or at least, I had no one I could trust in my final moments.
That was the plan. It was a good plan.
Until an omnipotent force decided my retirement had been canceled.
It wasn't a young sorcerer who found me. It was something called "Alaya," humanity's Deterrent Force, the planet's own instinct for survival. From what I understand, when human history somehow vanished, Alaya panicked. It searched the world's records for anything—any weapon, any soul—capable of resisting the end of the world. And it found me, an indestructible Cursed Object pulsing with such immense and powerful energy that only a few people can grasp the magnitude of what that meant.
And apparently, I was summoned to another world—or at least a timeline completely different from ours (I never in my life thought isekai was possible, but life is always full of surprises)—where humanity had been wiped out. Despite the vast differences between our universes, "Alaya" (whatever this thing that defends humanity is) was only able to find me because, apparently, our universes were close. Another headache was added to the list of problems I didn't even want.
From what I gathered from the flood of information that Alaya forced into my brain when it woke me up, the planet mistook me for someone else. Because of my story—the story of a man who absorbed evil, who bore the sins and curses of others, and who swore not to rest until suffering was eradicated (I was actually surprised by how similar it was)— Alaya believed that my Cursed Object was conceptually linked to the Bodhisattva Kshitigarbha, the Buddhist deity who swore not to attain Buddhahood until he had emptied all the hells.
They summoned me. They gave me a physical form, and I wasn't summoned as a "Servant" per se; I was more like a pseudo-Servant, but not quite. Like a combination that shouldn't exist. So I didn't mind them experimenting on me again during my "creation." This wasn't any different from what Kenjaku did.
If you wanted a term for it, he was half-Human and half-Cursed spirit/Servant.
I don't know how I managed to restore my body without a vessel; despite all my knowledge, I was unaware of this, but it seems I forced and altered every part of my body—transformed into a cursed object—to serve as a false "vessel." So I was "alive" once more, and my body returned to its physical prime, the time when my fists and techniques were at their deadliest. I felt the cursed energy flowing through my veins, my muscles taut and perfect, my vision sharp. Physically, I was the monster who was both feared and worshipped in my day. Mentally, I was still a four-hundred-year-old "old man" who just wanted to go back to sleep.
Alaya's information gave me the context of this era. Singularity F. The city of Fuyuki. A corrupted Holy Grail War. Mages, Servants, and the organization Chaldea. Curiously, the names sounded vaguely familiar. In my youth, before the sorcery world went to hell, I remembered playing a game on my phone about something similar. It was blurry, a memory from four centuries ago, but the basic concepts fit.
When I materialized in this burning city, the first thing I felt wasn't awe or fear. It was an annoyance.
"Seriously... at least give me some idea of what I'm supposed to do," he had muttered, annoyed and resigned, pulling the hood of my white jacket over my head.
But then I felt the presence. Three fragile life signatures, human, surrounded by overwhelming hostility. Instinct doesn't die, even after centuries. The duty to protect the weak was as engraved on my soul as my own name. So I moved.
I arrived just in time to see a muscular giant with gray skin trying to crush a silver-haired girl, while another orange-haired girl watched in terror, and a Demi-Servant was sent flying moments before.
I saved the silver-haired girl by stopping the stone axe. My arm was shattered. It hurt, of course, but I've felt worse pain countless times. I regenerated using Reverse Cursed Technique, not before first sending the beast flying with a Black Flash to gain space, and then I eliminated a sniper archer spying on us from atop a distant building using Blood Manipulation.
Then, the gray-skinned beast returned like a raging beast, roaring its intent to kill. So annoyed by my interruption with the girls I had helped, I used a standard "Slash" from Dismantle, but when I saw that I had not only split the bloodthirsty beast in half, but also damaged a large part of the city, I couldn't help but feel that I'd gone too far by using too much force in my slash.
Just when I thought it was over, I could sense the beast trying to heal itself after being split in half. Apparently, it has some kind of magical connection to something, so I quickly moved closer and placed my arm on its abdomen just as it finished healing itself. Then I quickly "cut" its connection. I felt its connection trying to reestablish itself, but it was too late—I used Hachi and completely destroyed its body from the inside.
It was the perfect attack for someone of his caliber. Because the more resistance you had and the tougher you were, the better Hachi adapted to it—in other words, more resistance meant more damage from Hachi. It wasn't hard to understand.
Now, a shower of blood was falling onto the asphalt. The giant—who, based on my vague memories of the game, which had been somewhat "clarified" from their haziness (due to the passage of time) by "Alaya," and after giving it some thought, I was able to recognize as the Berserker-class Servant Heracles—had ceased to exist.
I lowered my hand and turned towards the three girls.
The orange-haired girl was on the ground, staring at me with a mix of terror and absolute awe.
Ritsuka resonated in my mind, although I thought it was a man, or maybe I had misinterpreted it. I honestly didn't remember, and "Alaya" didn't completely restore those memories, just made them less fuzzy.
She reminded me of the young first-year students I had tried to teach many years ago, after the moment of experiencing the terror of jujitsu. Scared, thrown into a world of violence they didn't ask for.
The shield girl, the Demi-Servant, kept her guard up, but her hands were trembling.
I think it was called Mash, if I remember correctly?
And the silver-haired girl, who seemed to be the leader, was in shock, not knowing what to say, trying to process the immense power she had just witnessed.
I didn't remember anything about her. Leaving that aside, people's reactions to seeing my power are always amusing.
I sighed, putting my hands in the pockets of my jacket.
"Well... I guess that was something," I said ironically. Given the gravity of the situation I found myself in, so far the enemies had been extremely weak, or maybe it was that I was absurdly strong. Well, you know what...
It doesn't matter.
No one responded immediately. I saw the shield girl lower her weapon a couple of centimeters and breathe a sigh of relief, and she was about to speak, but before she could, the silver-haired girl, who had stood up, spoke.
"I deeply appreciate you saving us, but despite that, we can't fully trust you, so I have to ask... who are you?"
I considered the question for a few moments. I thought about giving a fake name or simply saying I was a passing traveler, but I dismissed it; there was no point in lying or being vague. Besides, I didn't care if they knew my name. But before I could answer the question, my senses, honed over centuries of hunting invisible threats, caught a disturbance in the shadows.
It wasn't directed at me with murderous intent, but it was there. Someone watching. Hiding their presence expertly, using the environment and magic to camouflage themselves among the rubble of an alley about fifty meters to our right.
I slowly turned my head in that direction. The shadow under my hood must have looked intimidating under the red light of the burning city.
"You can stop hiding now," I said, my voice losing some of its warmth and adopting a flatter, more authoritative tone. "I don't like being watched. Come out now, or I'll assume you're hostile and treat you the same way I treated the giant and the archer."
The three Chaldea girls tensed, quickly turning to where I was looking. Mash raised her shield again, positioning herself in front of the orange-haired girl, whom I had heard her call "Senpai."
For a few seconds, only the crackling of the fire could be heard.
And then, a rough, carefree laugh resonated from the darkness of the alley.
"Well, well. Such sharp senses you have, my friend. And here I thought my runic concealment was top-notch."
From the shadows, a man walked into the light of the flames. He wore light, almost primitive armor, and carried a gnarled wooden staff resting on his shoulder. He had long, tied-back dark blue hair and red eyes that gleamed with the amusement and cunning of an experienced predator. He kept his free hand raised to shoulder height, palm open, in a clear universal gesture of peace.
"Easy, lower your weapons," said the blue-haired man, showing a confident smile that revealed white, sharp teeth. "I'm not looking for a fight. Especially not with you, hooded one. I saw what you did to Heracles."
Olga tensed briefly when the blue-haired man called the gray giant by name. Murmuring, "So it was Heracles."
"A Servant?" murmured the orange-haired girl, female Ritsuka, standing up clumsily.
"Indeed, little girl," the Servant replied, planting his staff on the ground. "I'm of the Caster class. And before you get hysterical, I'm what you might call a free Servant in this ruined war. I'm not on the side of those who burned this city."
Caster. That was Cu Chulainn, if my memories—clarified by Alaya—didn't fail me. A famous Celtic warrior, he was summoned as a Lancer before being forced to switch to the Caster class. But I couldn't remember why… if only I'd played the game again during my last break and hadn't let it slip my mind. Anyway, there's no use crying over spilled milk.
"I saw you from the moment the commotion started," Caster looked straight at me, his red eyes scanning me from head to toe. "I have to admit, you left me speechless. I'd been avoiding Berserker like the plague. That rabid dog of the Einzberns was practically invincible with his stupid multiple lives. And you go and blow him up like a water balloon without even seeming to try. I'm impressed."
I nodded slightly in acknowledgment but said nothing. I wasn't interested in flattery.
"And not only that," Caster continued, his grin widening. "I also felt what happened several blocks from here. That red bastard... Archer. He was stationed in a building, waiting to clean up the survivors, right? And you dispatched him without even looking. I won't lie to you, I couldn't stand that guy. Always so stiff and conceited. You did the world a favor by erasing him from the map."
"He was a nuisance," I replied simply. "He was aiming at us with lethal intent. I eliminated him before he became a problem."
"Y-you eliminated Archer too?" Director Olga Marie finally found her voice, realizing that was probably the one my blood had shot at. Steadying her trembling legs and dusting off her uniform, desperately tried to regain her dignity and her mask of authority. She walked forward, pointing a trembling finger at me. "Wait a moment! This doesn't make any sense! I don't sense any magic circuits in you! Your prana levels are absolute zero! How can you perform such feats if you don't use prana?"
Before I could say anything to her, a sharp beep interrupted the conversation.
From the communicator on Mash's wrist, the blue hologram projected again. It was the man in the medical coat, Romani Archaman, looking even more stressed than before, if that was physically possible.
"Girls! Are you okay?! The sensors went crazy! The energy signature of who I assume was Berserker completely disappeared suddenly! And then my data says another magical signature disappeared and... wait!"
Romani brought his face close to the camera in Chaldea, staring intently at the holographic projection connecting him to us. His eyes widened like saucers upon seeing Caster, and then stopped on my hooded figure.
"D-director? Who are they? Is that a Caster-class Servant? And the other...!" Romani began typing furiously out of the camera's view. "The scanners are erroring out! The subject in the white jacket... Emits no prana! Also doesn't have a unique signature to be cataloged as a Heroic Spirit! But for some reason, our systems detect a strange energy surrounding him that is also breaking our instruments with erroneous data due to the excessive amount of energy!"
I sighed deeply. I wasn't angry, just resigned. I brought my hands to my hood and, with a slow movement, pulled it back, exposing my face to the light of Fuyuki's flames.
The wind stirred my short, spiky hair. My eyes, which had seen centuries of death but still retained the tranquility of one who accepts their destiny, focused on the holographic projection and then on Olga Marie. The scar on my lip and the marks of my past were visible, giving me the appearance of someone who has walked through hell, but my expression was completely serene.
"Calm down, doctor," I said, my voice cutting through Romani's scientific ramblings with a soft but firm tone, almost like a professor calming a frightened student. "I know what you see on your screens doesn't make sense to you. But if my intentions were hostile, I wouldn't have stepped between the giant and your director. You can trust that I am not your enemy."
Romani blinked from the hologram, his panic diminishing a bit at my reasonable tone. Olga Marie, seeing my face for the first time, seemed to relax fractionally. Seeing a real human beneath that aura of destruction seemed to have calmed her, even if only a little.
"Alright," Olga said, crossing her arms, her tone authoritative but much more respectful than before. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt for the moment. Your actions speak for themselves. You saved my life and the lives of my subordinates, and for that, you have Chaldea's gratitude. But as the director of this organization, I need answers. Who are you?" She asked me again, looking at me nervously but with determination.
I smiled slightly. A genuine smile, small, devoid of any arrogance.
"My name is Yuji. Yuji Itadori," I introduced myself, giving a slight bow of my head. "I don't belong to your Mage's Association, nor am I a Heroic Spirit summoned by the Grail. I was brought here by... let's say, the will of humanity itself, to help stabilize this disaster."
"Itadori..." Olga murmured, resting her hand on her chin. "It's not a registered magus lineage. At least not one that the Clock Tower is aware of. Wait..."
"You won't find any information about me in your records," I added softly, offering the information without interrupting her at all.
"…by 'will,' don't you mean…?" Olga looked at me, puzzled, but before she could continue, Cu finished her sentence.
Caster moved, looking at me with curiosity, a serene smile on his face. "By the will of humanity itself, do you mean Alaya?"
"You know what it is?" I asked curiously.
"Oh, of course I know what it is," Caster let out a short laugh. "Any self-respecting Heroic Spirit knows who she is. Alaya is humanity's survival instinct. When the entire species is on the brink of going down the drain, Alaya steps in by sending the Counter-Guardians, the planet's hired killers. But you..." Caster pointed at me with his staff. "...you don't seem to be one of Alaya's dogs. And that's the strange part, I know, because you don't even seem to fully understand the meaning of Alaya, so that means she somehow tossed you in here as a wild card. That means things are more serious than I ever imagined, if you were sent as a Dissuasive Force."
"They've sent a Dissuasive Force..." Olga whispered, the little color she had regained draining from her face. If Alaya had been forced to send a Dissuasive Force to intervene so drastically, it meant that the F-Singularity of this anomaly they had detected... And that implies that the threat is far more serious than she or Chadea could have imagined—and that it was more serious than the extinction of all humanity itself? She didn't know, and she didn't want to find out.
"Itadori-san," Romani interjected from the screen, adjusting his glasses, scientific curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "Forgive the intrusion, but if you don't use prana or magic as we know it, what was that force you were using? I sense an energy, but I don't recognize it... Of course, only if you wish to mention it. I understand secrets."
I looked at my right hand, the same one that minutes before had been reduced to ground meat and was now perfect. Explaining Cursed Energy to mages who depended on Od and Mana was complicated, but I decided to give them the summarized version to facilitate cooperation.
"What I use doesn't come from the environment or nature," I began, looking at Romani and then at Olga. "It's called Cursed Energy. It's a force born from negative human emotions. Fear, anger, pain, regret, resentment... all the dark feelings that humans filter into the world. I absorb it, refine it, and use it as fuel for my attacks or, through a reverse process, to regenerate my physical body."
Caster let out a long, low whistle of appreciation, leaning heavily on his wooden staff, looking at me with a mix of respect and caution.
"Energy born from negative emotions, huh? Magic fueled by human filth," Cu Chulainn commented, with a lopsided grin. "I've heard of similar concepts in ancient witchcraft curses, but nothing on the raw, refined scale you mention, boy. That perfectly explains why you hit like a freight train at full speed without emitting the glow of prana."
Caster paused, looking towards the center of the burning city, and his smile faded a bit. "Speaking of cursed energies and dark emotions, it reminds me a bit of the black crap that's flooding the core of this city right now."
I frowned slightly. "What do you mean, Caster?"
The Celtic warrior shrugged. "Well, where do I start... All of this," He gestured around him. "The burning city, the corrupted Servants, all the death and destruction, was Saber's fault. I wasn't present when it happened, but something affected her at the beginning of the Holy Grail War, and the strange, cursed mud, which resembles your energy, although it's very different, corrupted her. And not like the big guy you killed, boy. He's just what's left of them after she killed them and brought them back. Servant by Servant, if you will." Caster crossed his arms, looking at the reddened sky.
"Whatever happened, when it all went down, things went to hell very quickly. There's a crater in the western half of the city where she annihilated at least three Masters of the War and their Servants with a single blow, and dug a trench in the city that stretches to the sea."
"One blow? What kind of power..." Olga whispered, clenching her teeth, feeling the immensity of the threat.
"So the Saber class was responsible for the Singularity," Ritsuka concluded, stepping forward. She no longer seemed like the terrified girl from ten minutes ago. Her eyes reflected an iron determination, focused on the mission. "Caster, do you know Saber's identity?"
"It's King Arthur," Caster replied, his voice hardening; from the expression on Caster's face, it seemed Saber had caused him many problems. "The King of Britain. Before, she wore chivalrous armor, but now she wears armor black as coal and has a temper that would make the devil tremble. She's the one guarding the corrupted Great Grail on Mount Enzou, specifically at the Ryuudou Temple. She was one of the reasons the sky is tinged with blood and the city burns without being consumed. She keeps the corrupted Servants as her guard dogs to annihilate anyone who tries to get close."
"King Arthur?" the shield girl whispered. "But I thought..."
"Was it a man?" Caster confirmed. "Get used to it, kid. History, as it's written, sometimes only bears a passing resemblance to what actually happened." He licked his lips thoughtfully. "I only fought her once, right after she was summoned, and she was fast, strong, and skilled—everything a Saber is supposed to be. She also used to hide her sword in a wind sheath, but the only time I saw her use the wind was before she was corrupted. When I first saw her corrupted version, she seemed to no longer bother hiding it, so you won't have to guess its length like I did. Otherwise, well. Her Noble Phantasm must be what caused the huge crater I told you about, or I'll eat my own staff."
"King Arthur... if she's going to be a big problem," Olga said in a whisper, then she looked at me and seemed to relax. I tilted my head at that.
"Anyway. I've been surviving, hiding, organizing minor skirmishes when I could. The original plan of the ritual was for us to kill each other, but Saber killed and corrupted Lancer, Rider, Assassin, Berserker, and Archer. The class I'm best at is Lancer... but for some stupid reason, I ended up in the Caster class, which irritates me a bit, by the way. While you weren't here, I managed to take care of that slippery bastard Assassin. And recently, I set a runic trap and killed Rider. And since this nice man here just massacred Berserker and sniped Archer, the only nuisance left is this war's Lancer, who's still lurking around the city near her garden. To avoid interruptions in our final battle, it's best we take care of her. I've been looking for an opportunity against Saber, but attacking Saber head-on is suicide. Her destructive power is ridiculous thanks to the almost limitless prana supplied by the corrupted Grail, and her being resistant to magic doesn't help at all to defeat her."
Caster paused, his red eyes locking onto me with a renewed spark of hope.
"At least, it was before you showed up, boy. If you can do to the blonde in black half of what you did to Heracles, we might have a real chance to clean up this mess."
I listened to the explanation in silence. Mud composed of malice and curses. Corrupted Servants. A King guarding the central point. Mentally, it was the exact equivalent of an immensely powerful Special Grade Curse using a city-wide Domain Expansion.
Although the mechanisms of magic and cursed energy weren't exactly the same, the root of the problem was the same: a powerful being spreading misery and mass death.
And for me, after four hundred years of massacring unspeakable atrocities, this wasn't an insurmountable problem. It was, ironically, something familiar. A routine I knew like the back of my hand.
Whatever the threat of the Altered King Arthur and her damn dark Grail, I would take care of it. After all, despite my complaints and my selfish desire to sleep eternally, this was by no means a situation I could ignore. I glanced sideways at the fragile girls: the inexperienced Master trembling with courage, the Demi-Servant who barely understood her own power, and the Director overwhelmed by the situation.
I looked at the only human beings present who theoretically had the duty to fix this apocalypse, and mentally confirmed the obvious: leaving them alone in this hell against a corrupted King Arthur and a bloodthirsty Lancer was a terrible, terrible idea. Even if I saw them somehow overcoming Lancer, from what they said about Saber, there's a high chance they would die against her if I didn't intervene, and with them, possibly the rest of humanity's history in their universe. And that, even if it wasn't my world, didn't sit well in my stomach. Grandfather wouldn't approve.
I closed my eyes, exhaling a long sigh that carried away the last vestiges of my longed-for retirement.
I looked at Olga Marie, straightening up to my full height. The aura of apathy disappeared, replaced by the dense and dominant presence of the most powerful Jujutsu Sorcerer in history, ready to go to war once more.
I looked at Olga Marie. "Well, Director? It seems the goal is clear. If we destroy that Saber and along with that Grail, the anomaly in this city should be resolved, correct?"
Olga nodded, her posture firm. "That's right. By eliminating the convergence point, we will restore the correct flow of history at this point in time, and you will have an anchor point to return to Chaldea." She looked me directly in the eyes. "Itadori Yuji. I understand you are not one of ours, but I formally request your collaboration on this mission. As Director of Chaldea, I promise we will compensate you in some way if you help us save humanity's future."
I looked at her for a few moments. I saw the weight of the world crushing the shoulders of a young woman who couldn't have been more than twenty years old. I saw the echo of the desperation I had seen in Megumi when he had to make impossible decisions.
The tension in the group was palpable. Ritsuka was holding her breath. Mash tightened her grip on her shield. Even Caster seemed to await my response with interest.
Slowly, the corners of my mouth curved into a smile. A kind, warm smile, the same smile that Yuji Itadori, the high school boy who loved his friends and wanted to give them a dignified death, used to show before the world hardened him. I didn't need any compensation from the Mage's Association. I wasn't interested in their relics, their money, or their magic.
Although, come to think of it, some real uninterrupted vacation without cosmic interruptions, maybe a nice soft bed, hot food, and a week of sleeping without end-of-the-world alarms, wouldn't be bad at all after crushing this King.
I deeply respected Olga Marie's desperate formality and the girls' courage.
"I accept cooperating with your team, Director," I replied, my voice clear and resonant, sealing the pact of blood and gunpowder on that burning street. I raised a clenched fist and tapped it softly against the palm of my other hand, the crack of my knuckles echoing. "I'll clear the path for you to the top of that mountain. And if there's a corrupt King waiting for us up there, thinking he's untouchable... I'll take care of bringing him down from his throne. By force, if necessary. It's the right thing to do."
Destiny, it seemed, always had a battlefield prepared for me. And tonight in Fuyuki, the King of Knights was about to discover, in the most painful way possible, why the universe had crowned me as the pinnacle of jujutsu.
With me on board, any problems they brought to humanity, this Singularity F, would be resolved in the blink of an eye. After all, I...
Would not lose.
.
.
.
By the way, did you like the chapter? If you want to support my writing and get early access to chapters of my story, you can support me at Patreon com/c/Paxkun12. You have to put it in your search bar for it to work altogether.
Any support is incredibly valuable to me and will help me a lot. It's not an obligation; all my chapters and stories will always be free to read. But your support would motivate me a lot. Of course, if you want me to update a particular story, I'll do my best to do so. Everyone is welcome to enjoy it.